Title: You're Here

Rating: R for language and sexual situations

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any characters from the fantastic creation of Rob Thomas.

The party was in full swing when Wallace and Veronica arrived. The beach was packed with scantily clad teenaged girls and shirtless, drunk high school guys. A bonfire burned bright at their center and someone's car stereo blared The Killers on Sirius.

"Hey. There's Reggie. I'm gonna say 'hi'," Wallace said as he pointed behind his head in the direction he'd just been gawking. "You'll be okay?" His tone was one of imitation concern, his expression was all mocking, and his mouth twisted up in a smirk.

A laugh burst forth before she could even stop it. "Oh, yeah," Veronica replied. "I fit right in." She struck a pose, one hand on jean clad hip and the other on the strap of her messenger bag. Wallace chuckled and she pulled her hoodie tighter around herself.

"I'll see you later, girl. Try to have some fun," he said as he turned to walk towards his friend. He turned back. "You know what 'fun' is right?" His hand hung in the air between them. She brushed it away with her own smirk. He jogged backwards for a moment with a true smile, then he turned and called out to some guys from the team.

Veronica's eyes scanned the crowd. She noticed Madison and Dick playing tonsil hockey by the keg. Beaver stood nearby looking embarrassed and slightly disgusted. Veronica pulled her earphones and her dad's digital recorder out of her bag. She pushed 'play'. Her recordings from the night before in the teacher's lounge began to play when she made eye contact with Meg. She heard Clemmons announce the start of the meeting as the girl approached. Meg smiled.

Veronica paused the recording and forced a smile, tried to make it go all the way up to her eyes.

"Veronica," Meg began, her own smile on her lips. "I think when you show up at these things, it's customary to mingle."

"Yeah," Veronica drew out the word. "I'm kinda just Wallace's ride."

"Oh, come on." Meg's hand swept out over the scene. She broke eye contact for a moment. "We used to have fun at these things. You, me, and Lily. Ogling the 'man meat'." Meg put air quotes around Lily's words.

Veronica smiled tighter. Her eyes flitted to Duncan who stood by the bonfire with Meg's younger sister, Lizzie, and Kelly Kuziak. She'd had no idea then that she and Meg had been ogling the same "meat".

Meg caught the direction of her gaze. "Look—

"I'm sorry," Veronica cut off whatever the girl thought she was going to say. "I don't mean to be a party pooper, I've just got this case…

Meg nodded, her lips thin. "Yeah, you always do." She stayed in Veronica's orbit, though, and it became more than a little awkward. "There's always something you have to do and somewhere you have to be." Meg's voice turned a bit hard; her arms crossed over her chest.

Veronica took that as her cue. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is somewhere I have to be." She pointed to a log on the outskirts of the celebration.

Meg slumped. "I'm trying, Veronica. I know I broke the girl code or whatever, but I'm still trying to be your friend." Her eyes were soft and pleading. Veronica wanted no part of it, but she supposed now was not the time.

"Look, Meg, it's all good. This isn't really my scene anymore. I'm really just here for Wallace, I promise."

Meg brightened up. "Well, what about making lemonade out of lemons? Come on. Split a beer with me?" She tugged at Veronica's sleeve.

"I'm driving," Veronica answered flatly. She brought her hood up over her head. Maybe then no one would notice her or at least that she was otherwise occupied.

Meg put her hands up. "Have it your way, Veronica, but I'm not giving up."

"Good to know," Veronica said as Meg moved away. "You're a saint, Meg Manning," she mumbled to herself.

She started the recording just as she caught the megawatt smile Duncan gave Meg upon her return. She rolled her eyes. It wasn't the broken girl code that pissed her off, it was the lack of closure. She had no interest in Duncan Kane other than to know how he could suddenly stop talking to her out of the blue.

Mr. Clemmons droned on and on in her ear about budget concerns as Veronica once again scanned the crowd. She smiled as she watched Wallace mimic, probably for the hundredth time since last weekend, his game-winning three-pointer for a pretty sophomore. He caught her eye and shook his head. She looked away.

It was then she noticed Logan on the other side of the bonfire. He was also engaging in a little crowd gazing. The colors from the blaze tinted him with a glow and danced almost mesmerizingly over his features. He looked distracted, bored, and definitely not interested in the small group of bimbos desperately vying for his attention nearby.

He'd been worse lately. His insults were a little wittier, but a little harsher, too. The pranks, if she could call them "pranks", were dirtier. It wasn't anything she couldn't handle- nothing she hadn't taught herself to handle in the last year, but it left her wondering how far they were going to take this little war.

Suddenly, he sprang up and seemed to look through her. Veronica felt the ground shake a little beneath her feet. Logan ran past, not close but not out of her sightline. Dick followed at his heels as did a few of the other '09er guys.

Veronica removed her earphones as the motorcycles pulled almost onto the beach.

"PCH in the hou-ouse," Veronica sing-songed softly as Weevil and his boys parked and climbed off their bikes.

The party stilled. Veronica looked for Wallace, but he was already making his way to her side.

"What's this?" He asked.

"You wanted it. You got it. The full '09er party experience," she all but whispered her reply.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Logan asked loudly; he gestured wildly and some spittle flew in Weevil's direction.

"I could ask you the same. I thought we settled this the last time? This is PCH territory."

"Oh, fuck that!" Logan exclaimed and flung his half empty Solo cup.

Weevil was in Logan's face then and only the two of them could hear each other, but Veronica noted the look on Weevil's face. He wouldn't back down, not in front of the stuck-up white kids and not in front of his boys. Logan would want to save face, too.

A moment passed. Two. Veronica wished she could hear them. She stood. Wallace put a halting hand on her shoulder.

Weevil stepped back only to throw a punch to Logan's abdomen. Logan bent in half for a few seconds but came back up swinging. He caught Weevil in the jaw. Weevil's neck pitched and, when he righted himself, he wiped blood from his mouth. He swung harder. Logan went down.

All hell broke loose. Dick took a flying leap at Weevil and the rest of the guys on both sides of the argument followed suit. Soon there was an all-out brawl, but Veronica hadn't taken her eyes off Logan. He wasn't getting up.

Veronica pulled her phone out and handed it to Wallace. "Call 911. We need an ambulance and the police," she said as she ran towards her old friend.

Logan had hit his head on a parking pylon. There was blood and he didn't respond when Veronica called his name.

She tried not to move him due to the head injury, however, she removed her jacket and pressed it as close to where he seemed to be bleeding as she could.

"Logan? Wake up, Logan," she said by his ear. She felt his pulse. It was steady.

Soon enough, she could hear the sirens. Dick was staring down at her as she held the jacket. She made hard eye contact with Weevil.

"You won't get away with this," she said. He started his bike at the same time, revved the engine, and the PCHers took off in quick succession.

"What did you do to him?" Dick asked quietly.

"I'm helping him," she replied.

"Dick, get me out of here," Madison commanded, but it was too late. Two cruisers pulled onto the beach and an ambulance followed.

The EMTs politely asked Veronica to move away from Logan as they proceeded to inspect him. They gingerly maneuvered him onto a stretcher and returned her jacket as they dressed the wound with something more sterile. For too brief a moment, Veronica eyed bone and her eyes teared. She could have sworn Logan opened his eyes for a second, but, by then, everything was moving too quickly.

His hand laid still at his side. She brushed her knuckles across his.

"Miss, we're taking your boyfriend to Neptune Memorial. Can you notify his next-of-kin?" Veronica nodded even as she let their mistake stand.

Logan moaned in pain and Veronica let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

'Alive,' she thought. It surprised her how relieved she was.

Three deputies rounded up what was left of the partygoers while a fourth commandeered the keg.

Veronica caught Duncan's eye. He'd been watching the scene, but cast his eyes down just then and made no move to offer assistance.

"Do you have Logan's numbers?" Wallace asked from somewhere off to her left. Veronica shook her head.

'Not since the new phone.'

"Veronica?"

She spun to face her favorite of the new recruits at the Sheriff's Department. "Hey, Leo. Can you phone the Echolls's? There's been an accident. Logan's been taken to Neptune Memorial."

"Right away, but don't go anywhere. I need to get your statement." In the next moment, he was on the phone with the station and being put through to Logan's parents.

Veronica turned away.

"You okay?" Wallace asked. He returned her phone and rubbed a hand up and down her back.

She took a deep breath, released it. "Yeah." She held the bloodstained hoodie dumbly, not wanting to be rid of it, but not wanting to look at it, either.

Wallace pulled her into a side hug. She saw Madison gesticulating wildly in her peripheral while Dick stared ahead mutely. Beaver stood next to him. The deputy must've asked Dick something because Beaver elbowed Dick and he finally focused in on the conversation.

Leo came back. He announced that the Echollses were on their way to the hospital and asked Veronica what happened. They went over it four different times and each time Leo made a new note or underlined an old one. Wallace corroborated the events.

"You'll have to come in and sign your official statement, Veronica," Leo explained. "Especially if the Echolls kid presses charges."

Veronica nodded. "Understood. Are we okay here? I'd better call my dad."

Leo smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Veronica. And take care." He rubbed her shoulder. She gave a half smile in return.

Wallace corralled her to the car. "Want me to drive?"

Veronica nodded. "To the hospital?"

She called her dad from the car. He was on a stakeout and warned her not to stay all night. "Okay, Dad. Love you."

Wallace and Veronica had spent two bleary-eyed hours at the hospital by the time they heard Lynn Echolls's heels coming down the hallway. Veronica stood and intercepted her.

"Oh, Veronica dear," Mrs. Echolls said as she reached out and gently framed Veronica's face. Her eyes slid to Wallace then back. "I hear we have you two to thank."

"How is he?" Veronica asked.

Mrs. Echolls pulled her in for a hug. "Oh, Veronica. They've just taken him in for surgery. They're worried about fluid. They said once he's out, they'll keep him in a coma to recuperate and that he may have some memory loss…

She squeezed Veronica tighter before letting her go. Her eyes were watery and her voice wavered when she next spoke. "I'll put you on the list, but, for now, you should go home and get some rest."

"Thank you, Mrs. Echolls."

"Nonsense. He'll be so happy to have you around." Lynn smiled big.

Veronica smiled back even as she doubted the woman's words. Mrs. Echolls patted her arm.

"Get home to your dad. He's probably worried."

"He knows where I am."

Mrs. Echolls's face fell and her eyes teared. It was clear she didn't know how to act or she didn't know how to act. Perhaps the thought of a parent keeping tabs on their child was foreign to her or perhaps a child checking in with her parent was even more strange. But maybe Lynn Echolls learned tonight that ignorance was rarely, truly bliss and that it would always be better to keep the lines of communication open rather than to turn a blind eye. Sure, every kid thought it'd be awesome to have a "cool" parent who let them throw parties or who abstained from setting a curfew until those same kids were thirty years old, still working nights at the Sac 'N' Pac and still living at home. They needed someone dedicated to helping them learn how to make good choices not a kegger buddy.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Veronica assured. She smiled grimly.

"Good night, Veronica."

When she got home, Veronica's dad was there to greet her.

"How is he, honey?" Her dad asked as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He's in surgery. His mom put me on the list. Told me to check in tomorrow."

"Good." Her father nodded and rubbed her back in soothing circles. "What happened?"

Veronica sighed heavy. "Ugh. The PCHers showed up. Logan and Weevil go into it. It was an accident… And not."

Another nod. "Get some sleep, honey."

The next morning, Sunday morning, Veronica took her coffee to go and drove in to Neptune Memorial. The elevator crawled up to the ICU which only made Veronica's nerves—already on end from thinking about what she might find once she got up there—spike to just about eleven. Not surprisingly, the coffee wasn't helping.

Lynn was in the room when Veronica arrived. She sat holding Logan's hand. The room was quiet, still.

"Oh. Good Morning. I could come back later?" Veronica spoke hesitantly to Mrs. Echolls, her thumb pointed behind her and out the door.

"Nonsense, Veronica." Logan's mother gently let go his hand and stood. She indicated that Veronica should take her place. "Aaron stepped out for coffee. I'll join him. Give you a few moments." She rubbed Veronica's bicep as she passed. Veronica gave a small smile and nodded.

Once the door closed behind her, Veronica completely forgot about Mrs. Echolls. She moved heavily towards the vacant seat at her old friend's bedside. The quiet was… so loud. There were bleeps and whirs of machinery and the hiss of air support beneath him to be sure, but no snark, no bitter chuckling, and no vitriol spewed from the boy in the bed.

He was still. Veronica had never seen Logan this still. As long as she'd known him, he'd been unable to fully relax. His knee would bounce or he'd pull at his sleeves. He'd run his hands through his hair or tangle and untangle his fingers with Lily's.

Her vision brightened for a moment and she saw Lily seated on a low wall next to Logan. Her smile glowed as she looked over at her boyfriend. She pushed her shoulder into his and, if her smile glowed, Logan's dazzled. The memory was vivid and piercing. Veronica shook with it. When Logan raised their joined hands—his and Lily's—to his lips, the precious wink of a remembrance ended.

'Not now.' Veronica wiped away the start of tears. She eyed Logan's hand, longed to reach out just to be sure. She sat instead.

"Hey," she said. Her messenger bag fell with a thud onto the floor. "I know. I know. Am I sure I should take so much time away from the swim team?" She rolled her eyes, tried to keep the moment light—if only for herself. "Well, I couldn't—

Suddenly, everything went rough and sharp-edged. She rolled forward to bent in half, her head only inches from the bed, from him. A sob bubbled up and out. She nearly choked on it. She straightened to breathe, but her body refused, chose to close in on itself as if there was no other choice, as if she were no longer in control.

Her hand covered her mouth to stifle her sounds, to keep her disturbance to the solemnity of the room and the building which encompassed it to a minimum. Her eyes were drawn to his face. She was half afraid he'd woken and she'd see that vicious smirk.

'More ammo,' her mind supplied, but her brow furrowed in response and she shook her head.

He wasn't watching. His eyes were closed. He was resting, healing.

But that was wrong—all of it. Logan Echolls was always watching. In fact, as intelligent and resourceful as she knew herself to be, it was difficult to put one over on him for the sheer fact that his eyes were always on her, always followed her. And the rest? Well, he shouldn't have to heal.

She thought of Weevil, of his fists as he swung at Logan. She shook her head again, shook her whole body as she finally sat up in her seat.

"I couldn't let this go. We're friends. I mean, we used to be… before Lily…" She rushed and rambled and faded in the span of a few seconds.

Veronica reached out and slid her fingers beneath his palm. No movement from him, but the warmth of his hand lit a spark that tingled all the way up her arm. She let loose a tiny gasp and pulled back. She missed the contact instantly.

Veronica sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm gonna visit you, Logan, so you're just gonna have to… I don't know… deal." She aimed for matter-of-fact and forced herself to smile. She was foolish, she knew, but she was unsure in her decision to start over with him and she needed to force herself with a brave face.

Could they get back to how things used to be? She didn't know. Maybe not. But perhaps they could be… civil. At least.

Veronica watched Logan's chest rise and fall, watched his breath enter and escape. Her eyes roved the expanse of bandage around his head. His hair looked matted underneath and her face crumpled again.

She stood and jammed her hands against her thighs. She shook herself again and pushed towards the bed. Her arm reached out, seemingly of its own accord. Her fingers gently brushed a few locks of Logan's hair—smashed down almost to an eyebrow by the dressing—to the side. It made no difference whatsoever. To him. To his look. But the warmth of his skin melted her and jolted her and reminded her he was still there, inside.

"You're gonna need a lot of product when you get out of here." Her mind jumped to another time, another golden smile—Logan's in the Kanes' hallway mirror. She and Lily had tousled his coif mercilessly as they gave him a hard time about it. He was combing with his fingers, restyling. Just a flash and the image was gone.

She studied the boy in the bed, checked his face for any sign of a reaction to her joke. Nothing. Maybe a fluttering of eyelashes, but that only meant his sleep was deep. It was only evidence of the coma.

There was a knock at the door and she bolted back away from him. She stumbled a bit over her messenger bag and as she struggled untangling the strap from between her feet and legs, the door opened. Lynn Echolls stuck her head inside.

"Veronica? Honey?"

They were both there then—Logan's parents—peering at her in that way parents did when they weren't sure about things.

"Yeah? Yes?" She finally got the damned bag up to her shoulder even as her heart still fluttered too fast. The knock had been soft, but in the empty air of the room it had been a canon.

And she'd been at the bed. Touching his face. Like a… like…

'Like a friend, Veronica. You can say it. You have to if you want another chance.'

"Is this okay? Would you like to stay?" Mrs. Echolls asked. Aaron leaned against the sink in the corner and looked down at his shoes. It made Veronica think of… It made Veronica think.

"No, I should go. Dad and I are going to lunch and I have a paper…

"Of course," Lynn replied and smiled softly. Veronica could see now how drawn Lynn looked, how she was make up free—still gorgeous, but more… "normal mom". She watched said normal mom gravitate towards her son and lay her hand on his calf. The hand rubbed back and forth slowly, comfortingly. For Veronica, it was hypnotizing. "It was so nice to see you, Veronica," she said. "Wasn't it, Logan?" Her voice was caressing on his name and Veronica could finally tear her eyes away from Lynn's hand. "Come back anytime," she invited and turned to smile at Veronica.

"Thanks," Veronica croaked out and with a small wave at Logan's father, she turned and left.

For Logan's part, there was Weevil and then darkness—a flutter of blonde and darkness. Then for a long time a searing pain pushed through his skull and skittered throughout. Then nothing. Or more darkness, depending on your perspective.

He felt heavy- heavy-lidded and heavy limbed and not quite ready for primetime.

Then suddenly his surroundings became bright and clear. Well, not clear exactly. More like gauzy, but that was good because something had to tamp down the painfully bright light.

Logan was on a path beside a house. There was a girl—no, girls—he could hear them talking. "He'll be so glad you're here."

He nearly skipped towards the voices. The word "frolic" passed through his consciousness. He floated on whimsical feet and legs around and around and around that house. He passed the garage window, the spouting. He passed it again. And again. The girls were still talking, murmuring in his ear, but too far away. "Come back anytime." He pressed on, pushed himself, but the loop only seemed to dwindle and his speed within it made him dizzy.

'Come back?' He wondered. He slowed and slumped against the house. He felt he should be out of breath or at least slightly taxed with the exertion, but instead he felt… nothing.

He noticed another path. He heard water.

At lunch, her father asked if she'd seen the paper. He slapped it down and pushed it across the table at Mama Leone's.

"Mm mm," she shook her head and mumbled around a mouthful of carbohydrates. She flattened the paper out and took in Weevil's mugshot.

'Thank you, Leo,' she thought. She looked up at her dad. He smiled.

"Local Gang Member Awaits Arraignment Over Beating"

The headline was satisfying if a little upsetting. Weevil was her… not friend, but more of a… cohort or a crony—muscle when she needed it. They had exchanged favors a few times by now and she'd seen a different side of him.

"What?" Her dad asked.

She pushed away from the table. "Weevil did throw the first punch, but it wasn't one-sided. They goaded one another and …" She threw her hands up. "It was an accident." One hand lay heavy on her lap, the other still on the table. Her fingers began to curl the edge of the newspaper.

"Honey, he left the scene," her dad reminded.

"Yeah," she agreed. "He did."

Her dad pulled his plate towards himself and unfolded his napkin. "How's Logan doing?" He asked as he picked up his knife and fork. He took a bite.

"He looked okay for someone in a coma," Veronica answered.

"Medically induced, though, right?" He asked around a mouthful of lasagna.

"Yeah, but Dad, I saw his skull."

He nodded. "It's gonna take time, but he's strong." He tapped the newspaper. "He's a fighter."

"Not funny." But she wore the faintest of smiles.

'Yeah, he is.'

By Sunday evening, Veronica had decided on a course of action. She'd visit, keep him abreast of his schoolwork—or at least read him their AP Lit novel—anything to reset them. And if he woke up and wanted her gone? At least she'd tried and someday, when she met Lily again, she could claim that.

Her head sunk when she thought of her dead best friend. She wasn't getting any more chances. The idea of Logan being gone, too? Well, that only cemented her plan, only made her more determined.

They were friends once and they could be again.

She hoped.

Days passed. She visited Logan on each and every one of them. After running into Lynn Echolls twice in the morning before school and Dick, Beaver, and the '09er gang in the evening—an uncomfortable encounter in which Dick screamed vile obscenities at her until a nurse kicked them both out—Veronica settled on the two hours just after school.

She'd rush out of her last class to beat traffic and maximize her time with him. Her dad didn't mind her missing work and she made it up on the weekend when she visited Logan just before the end of visiting hours. Weekends were still for partying after all—even if your king was indisposed.

After the first week, she'd gotten pretty comfortable at Logan's bedside. She kicked her shoes off when she arrived and she fluffed his pillows occasionally. She read to him from The Great Gatsby, their AP Lit assignment. Sometimes she sat curled up in the chair, sometimes she pulled the chair close and leant over him.

Weevil was out of jail and back in school. He wasted no time in making his presence known around Neptune High. He and his goons seemed to be everywhere these days.

He approached her at lunch. "Rumor has it you been down at the hospital playing Florence Nightingale to a spoiled jackass gringo," he said.

Veronica glared at him. "And rumor has it you're only here because the Echolls are waiting for Logan to wake up."

"Yeah? My guess is they'll be really impressed with the story of how he went down like a bitch." Weevil quirked an eyebrow and one side of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

Veronica stood. "And if he doesn't wake up?" Her insides recoiled at the thought. She surprised herself by swallowing down the bile that suddenly crawled up her esophagus. She blinked twice. "You think they're gonna just let this thing go? You think I will?" Her pointer finger rested against her sternum.

"Why do you care so much about that asshole?" Weevil scowled. "I mean, aren't we talking about the guy who told everyone you take it up the ass for—

"Stop." She practically spat. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was well aware of the rumors Logan started and his other faults. She didn't need a recap.

"Oh, so it's bygones for the rich '09er, but let's throw away the key to Weevil's cell, huh?"

Veronica found herself slack-jawed. "Are you kidding right now?!" She asked, incredulously. "You were there! You got in a fight with him!" She crisscrossed her arms and hands abruptly in a wild flourish between them and shook her head. "No! You threw the first punch and you left him on the ground in a pool of his own blood!" She pointed at him angrily. "What were you doing there?" She yelled.

Weevil tilted his head. "What were you doing there? I thought parties stopped being your scene after Lily died and you grew a pair." He asked with an admiring gaze. "And I thought parties with idiots the likes of Log—

"What. Were you. Doing there." She bit out.

Weevil straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. "One of my boys heard about an infestation of pale faced losers on our beach. Something about watered down brewskis and platinum cards—

"And what was the lug head leader of the local gang of thugs supposed to do, right?" Veronica stopped him with her own cutting question. She rolled her eyes. "That beach is public property, Weevil."

"It's in my neighborhood, Ver-on-ic-a," he sniped. "And it wasn't the first time."

"And you can't have that," she stated, dryly. "The rich kids playing in your sandbox."

"Hey!" Weevil pointed at her then. "I don't set up shop in the sand trap on the ninth at the country club!"

If It was possible, she glared harder and with more bitterness. "Oh, okay." She raised a hand. "You're right. Death was the only option."

"No one's dead, Vee," Weevil said in a softer but no less impatient tone.

She stared him down, held him to his spot for a beat and more. She waited him out, coiled and readied herself for the strike.

He blinked and looked down solemnly.

"Someone's already dead," she spoke low and steady. "And even though Logan's a jackass, he's my friend, too. I'm not losing another one and certainly not to some stupid turf war."

"Man, whatever," Weevil mumbled and spun away, but not before she caught the look of contrition that crossed his features.

She held Logan's hand. She held his hand a lot.

His palm was warm and smooth against hers. She loved to rub her thumb over his knuckles. It soothed her as she hoped he was soothed. Sometimes she hardly noticed she was doing it. She'd finish a sentence and glance up at his face and she'd catch movement in her peripheral. Sometimes it would cause her to smile and sometimes she'd remove herself from him entirely.

Today she didn't bother pretending. She wanted comfort.

After the confrontation with Weevil, Dick had caught her in Logan's locker looking for the rest of his folders and assignments. Not that Logan could do anything about the schoolwork, but supposing today was the day…?

But then Dick was there.

"What are your thieving, gold-digging, tramp hands doing in Logan's locker?" He shouted down at her as she kneeled in front of the space.

"I'm taking him his classwork," she mumbled and prayed no one paid them any mind. She'd already had one public dispute, she certainly didn't need to fight with another Neanderthal. And over Logan's welfare to boot.

"What? 'Cause Logan suddenly woke up and needs white trash like you for a tutor? I got his back. Get the fuck out of here, you skank!"

"You 'got his back'?" She stood. Up. Again. For Logan. "Like at the beach when you let him just lie there?" Sarcasm was her friend.

He raised his hand. She tilted her chin.

"Everybody came," he rationalized and smashed his fist into the lockers.

"Because I called them!" She barked.

'Unbelievable!' She held Logan's history book close to her chest.

"Pfft! You were too busy skanking up on him! You probably gave him brain damage! Now you'll worm your way in while he's feeble-minded and Ka-ching! Pay dirt!" Dick's hand was still fisted. He brought his elbow down to his side in false celebration.

"You're sick!" She slammed Logan's locker shut and headed to her next class. The bell rang. "Shit!"

"You sure can pick 'em," Veronica said out loud to her oldest friend.

A moment later, Logan's nurse entered the room. "Good afternoon, Veronica!" She greeted.

"Hello, Louise." Veronica had gotten to know many of the nurses on Logan's unit. She liked Louise best. She was a heavy-set brunette in her late thirties. She had kind eyes and was quick to smile.

"Hey, Logan. How about we change your dressing a little earlier today?" She rubbed his shoulder.

"Should I wait outside?" Veronica asked. She stood.

"No. He likes when you're here."

Veronica raised an eyebrow. Louise's hands worked at the bandage even as she looked over at Veronica.

"He's best in the afternoons. Blood pressure, temperature, breathing—everything," she said and smiled.

Veronica parked herself once again into the chair. She didn't know what to say or think except—if this woman only knew. As Veronica dedicated herself to their friendship there was every chance the boy in the bed would wake up and reject that dedication and that friendship. But it made her feel good nonetheless to hear that maybe her spending this time helped.

"That's why I'm doing this now. A little bargaining. A little pain for all the pleasure," Louise explained further. She still smiled. She still unwrapped. "Right, Logan?"

At the word "pain", Veronica slid her palm back beneath Logan's. She gave a worried glance at his features even as she blushed at his nurse's logic.

The bandage was antiseptically white all the way down to the last layer. Veronica supposed that was a bit of a comfort. He was healing. She longed for the day when there'd be nothing, not one more drop of his precious life wasted on the dressing. Her eyes blurred and a tear fell. She wiped it away. Louise caught her.

"It's nice you have this gorgeous young lady to get better for, isn't it, Logan?"

"You'd better hurry up, though," Veronica said, playing along. "I'm getting awfully tired of hanging out in this place." She smiled and reached her other hand out to his thigh. Her fingers settled over his knee.

"Don't let her kid you, honey," Louise went on, swiftly removing the old bandage. Logan's heartrate went up a smidge, the bleeps confirmed it. "She can't keep away." She brought out fresh dressings. "How could she? Look at you! And such a charmer with the ladies!"

Veronica chuckled. "That's you, all right." The flush that crawled up her neck made her hot and dizzy and she was glad she was on her ass. She wasn't sure she would have stayed upright otherwise.

"There we go," Louise announced. "Much better today, don't you think, Logan? If Veronica doesn't mind, this'll be our routine."

"I don't mind," she answered softly. She pulled her hand from his and placed it against the slight bristle of his jaw. Logan's heartrate slowed and there was a flutter of eyelashes, but nothing more significant.

When Louise left, Veronica went back to the book:

"We haven't met for many years," said Daisy, her voice as matter-of fact as it could ever be.

"Five years next November."

The automatic quality of Gatsby's answer set us all back at least another minute. I had them both on their feet with the desperate suggestion that they help me make tea in the kitchen when the demoniac Finn brought it in on a tray. Amid the welcome confusion of cups and cakes a certain physical decency established itself. Gatsby got himself into a shadow and, while Daisy and I talked, looked conscientiously from one to the other of us with tense, unhappy eyes.

However, as calmness wasn't an end in itself, I made an excuse at the first possible moment, and got to my feet.

"Where are you going?" demanded Gatsby in immediate alarm.

"I'll be back."

"I've got to speak to you about something before you go."

He followed me wildly into the kitchen, closed the door, and whispered: "Oh, God!" in a miserable way.

"What's the matter?"

"This is a mistake," he said, shaking his head from side to side, "a terrible, terrible mistake."

"You're just embarrassed, that's all," and luckily I added: "Daisy's embarrassed, too."

"She's embarrassed?" he repeated incredulously.

"Just as much as you are."

"Don't talk so loud."

"You're acting like a little boy," I broke out impatiently. "Not only that, but you're rude. Daisy's sitting in there all alone."

He raised his hands to stop my words, looked at me with unforgettable reproach, and, opening the door cautiously, went back into the other room.

Veronica eyed Logan through lowered lashes. She wondered just how much was getting through to her one-time friend.

Logan, who wouldn't know he was Logan except for the voice, felt as if he were on a cloud. He felt safe, loved—even, perhaps, cherished. He was enveloped in a golden beam, a gleaming light emitting from "the voice". It caressed and beckoned and soothed.

He was alternately wearied by and worried about time as a concept. Shouldn't he have someplace to be? Other than the disembodied voice, he met no one though he seemed to travel extensively, almost restlessly. At times, he became anxious, but then "the voice" was in his ear again, in his brain and he calmed immediately. He'd feel a pull towards her lilt—because it was a girl. 'A blond girl,' his mind supplied. 'Tiny.' His own personal sprite. His guide.

His guide through what, though? He couldn't make heads or tails of anything by this point. If he was dreaming, could he please just wake up now? If this place was something more…? Was his mind playing tricks?

The voice went on instead of answering any of his queries. "Logan, Logan, Logan." At times, the sound of his name—an assumption after hearing it over and over in her timbre—was a question or a plea. Other times it was a statement as if fact. But at his favorite times, it was a sweet kiss or a welcoming cocoon. It slipped and slid and wrapped itself around his brain, his soul. He was swaddled by it, by her.

But so far, the source had been elusive. Her. She. "The voice".

Sometimes, like now, he ran and ran and ran along the shoreline. The ocean waves rose and broke and lapped at the sand on his right and the trees on his left passed by in twisted green blur.

But there was nothing.

Nothing on the beach but the beach and him—the sand, the waves, the sun, and him.

He tripped. One knee hit the sand then the other and he toppled. He rolled to his back and splayed—limbs spread wide, jutted from his torso.

"So, something happened today, Logan," Veronica spoke as she picked at a fuzz on his blanket. "I inched past Angie Dahl. I mean, it's early days, but it felt good." She swatted in front of her own face. "The universe will reset by next marking period, I'm sure, but for today…

Veronica slid her hand into her favorite pocket, the one between his palm and his bed. The by-now-familiar trill of electricity, the jolt to her system he offered was old hat. Old hat insofar as she didn't jump anymore or gasp. She merely welcomed the flutter in her stomach and the warmth that spread to places nice girls ignored.

"Four point two GPA, Logan. Four point two." She closed her eyes. She squeezed his hand and imagined herself at Stanford. The sidewalks were tree-lined and her bag was a heavy but manageable weight she felt thrilled to bear. Like a complete dork, she imagined spinning in place as she raised her eyes and arms to the sky.

She giggled.

Just then, Louise entered. "Good afternoon, Veronica."

"Hi!" Veronica was buoyant today. It had been a good one. She had no idea, she realized, once Louise next spoke.

"I don't suppose anyone mentioned we've begun weaning Logan," she said.

Veronica smiled. "Really?"

"Yes. He's healing up nicely, but now we need him to wake up and eat some solid food with real nutrients and we need to check his motor functions and his memory."

Veronica sobered with the realization that nothing was going to be as simple as Logan just "waking up". She nodded in response to Louise. Her smile remained pasted to her face.

"So, we expect him to come out of this in the next day or so." Her hands worked swiftly at the bandages, which came off looking better than ever.

"Okay. Good," Veronica said. She nodded once more. Louise went on talking, but Veronica was in her own head. 'He might not remember… anything, any of it. Lily…' She swallowed the lump in her throat. She smiled because Louise was smiling. 'He might remember and he might… not like it. All over again.'

…finally reunite you two love birds."

Veronica tuned back in quickly at the comment. A laugh bubbled up and out before she could stop it. She rolled her eyes.

"Right, Logan?" Louise asked the unmoving figure in the bed. "You wanna get back to Miss Veronica here, don't you?" She questioned him as she took a turn at Veronica's usual job of fluffing his pillow.

The nomenclature, the "Miss Veronica" nearly pulled another laugh from her. She choked it back; thought of actual Logan's smirk and the cutting comment he'd have made about bondage and cat-o'-nine-tails at her expense.

In that instant, Veronica stopped caring about what would happen when Logan woke up. The important thing was that he woke up—period. She squeezed his hand again.

The nurse brought a cloth and a pan filled with cool water to the opposite side of the bed.

"He feels a little warm today," she explained as she pulled the wetted cloth across his forehead.

Veronica frowned.

"It's natural," she continued. "Sort-of like the body coming back to itself." The cloth rubbed down the side of his face, along the stubble on his jaw and down his throat. A slight trickle of excess water escaped the cloth and rolled underneath and was absorbed by Logan's hospital gown. Veronica's eyes followed it hungrily.

The hair on his face had been a surprise after a few days. It wasn't much—it still wasn't—but it gave her pause. For so long, Logan had been categorized. He'd been sorted and filed under "Property of Lily Kane" and she'd thought little to nothing of his sex appeal. But the stubble on his chin and the water droplet now a wet spot on his gown caused her to wonder. He was a lanky boy when they'd first met and, somehow, without her noticing, he'd become a man. Or man-like, anyway. Lily had often referred to him as "sex on a stick" and Veronica had always covered half her face with her hands and giggled like the blushing virgin she is… was. Lily had loved that, which had cemented the phrase as merely a tool for embarrassing mind games. Veronica hadn't ever really taken it seriously. But the stubble…

Did he…? Was there hair… on his chest? She couldn't remember. She hadn't had much occasion to see Logan shirtless in recent memory. When he surfed, he usually wore a wet suit and, although many guys at the bonfire had gone shirtless, Logan had worn long sleeves.

How had they grown so distant in so little time? How, when they should have supported and protected each other during the most miserable of times, had they lost track of each other? How had she only just noticed his crash into manhood? Had he noticed they weren't twelve anymore?

"Veronica?"

She blinked. "Yeah?"

"Would you like us to call you if he wakes up before tomorrow afternoon?" Louise repeated, a slight smile on her face.

Veronica nodded. "Sure."

"Okay then, dear. See you later."

When Logan's nurse left, Veronica scooted closer to the bed and stood. She leaned over him. A hand fell to his chest and she kissed his forehead. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

No one called the next day and Veronica was a little later than her usual time. She blamed school and traffic, but, if she was being honest with herself, she knew it was nerves.

What would happen if Logan remembered? If he kicked her out? Would she be able to make a case for their renewed friendship? Would there be time if his parents were there?

Or, what if he didn't know who any of them were? Or… about Lily? Or…?

'One foot in front of the other, Veronica. Keep your promise.'

She expected the Echollses to be there, but Logan was alone resting peacefully. The rise and fall of his chest comforted and beckoned. She grabbed his blanketed toes on her way to her favorite perch.

"Hey, Logan." It was almost sing-song. Another stab of anxiety coursed through her gut. She took a deep breath and blew it out. She slid her palm into his.

A twitch. She felt it, the slightest squeeze of fingers. Her eyes flew to his face. Nothing. Not a hitch in breath. Not a flutter of an eyelash.

The door flew open and Veronica immediately pushed back from the bed.

"Logan! Man! You—

The scrape of the chair across the linoleum was deafening and timed to Dick's bellowing entrance, but the moment he saw her he stopped speaking. His eyes formed slits and at least one fist clenched.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The door had blown back on him and was caught on his foot. Dick stepped further into the room and it slid closed. His hands went to his head then his arms raised up and spread out in exasperation. "I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from him?" He blinked. Twice.

Veronica had the sudden impression he was trying to recall having done so.

He stepped closer. He was nearly to the bed on the opposite side.

Dick was Logan's friend—like, chosen friend. Like, the one Logan would side with right now if he was awake and if he remembered how things stood. So, even though she wanted to tell him to get lost she knew she shouldn't.

"I've been visiting. You know that," she growled and crossed her arms over her chest.

"No. I didn't know that," he spat. "They kicked you out."

"They kicked you out, too," she retaliated, her hip cocked.

Dick moved to her side of Logan and dragged the chair to the foot of the bed. He flung himself into the chair. His legs extended beneath the bed, crossed at the ankles, and his arms bent around to support the back of his head and neck. "Yeah, but I've got charm and good looks." His smarmy smile disgusted her. "How'd you pull it off? Threaten the staff with some sort-of trailer park voodoo?"

Veronica glared. Hard. Maybe if they both believed it, she really could exorcise him from the room with only the power of her mind. "It's Santeria, Dick, and I just used that lock of your hair I cut off last week to triple your Sunday morning hangover. Sorry it's so noticeable, by the way."

Dick's smile fell. He did an admirable job of pretending the comment didn't bother him, but when her eyes flitted to Logan then back, Dick was covertly checking the back of his scalp. "Whatever." He rolled his eyes.

"They like me here," Veronica said with the most saccharine smile she could muster. "Plus, I'm helping Logan."

Veronica moved towards the bed again. She bent slightly and reached out to fluff Logan's pillow.

The sand slid through his fingers and, when he turned over his palms, it got under his fingernails. The tide hadn't seemed to be anywhere near him, but it licked his toes nonetheless.

"Logan."

He rolled to the left, towards the sound and … she was there! The husk of her voice was alluring and beseeching, but it had nothing on her smile. It unfurled slowly until she grinned big—a little gummy and a lot bright. His breath, which had heretofore gone unnoticed as he ran and ran and ran and felt nothing but need—nothing, not tired or breathless, nothing—left him.

She touched him first. He didn't know how. His own surprise or stunned disbelief must have stalled him. Then her fingers brushed gently across his brow.

This couldn't be. She was… an angel.

"Logan."

He watched her lips split and her tongue form his two syllables. His dick twitched.

He grasped her wrist and brought her fingers to his lips. They were soft and they wiggled against his mouth. She giggled.

"Logan."

His eyes raked her form. His fingers caressed up her arm and fell to her side. They came to rest at her hip. His thumb circled the bone there through her cover-up. She had on a bikini—red with tiny bows holding the bits of fabric together under her sheer not-really-a cover-up-cover-up.

Her palm laid flat against his cheek then her fingers pulled and beckoned ever-so-slightly and they were closer. His thumb maintained no kind of pace at her hip and her smile and her eyes somehow became incredibly soft. He kissed the tip of her nose.

She sighed and closed her eyes. He stared. Her eyelashes fluttered, delicate dark curls against her pink-tinged alabaster skin. His heart melted and stuttered back up instantaneously.

He kissed her, slow and chaste, until her fingers crawled up his jaw and around the back of his neck. He felt the pull—not just from her hand on him, but the figurative pull of… what?

Familiarity?

Love?

Home?

His breath hitched. There it was again—his breath.

He slanted his mouth over hers and smashed their pelvises together and there was so much breath panting between them it made him dizzy. He slid a leg between hers and his palm pressed lightly at the small of her back. She was warm and soft and sweet-smelling and… nice. A comfort. The banality of his mind language frustrated him because the words didn't do the feelings—what coursed between them in that moment—justice. He craved her immediately, wanted and needed more of her. If this vacation out of time was his ending, as he was beginning to suspect, then he'd truly found heaven.

"Logan. Wake up, sleepyhead."

Their mouths broke apart and the flush creeping up from her chest and her swollen mouth and her general disheveled state made him want never to leave her alone. All of it was captivating and exciting. He buried his face in her neck to escape the overwhelming desire her felt for her.

"Wow." His own voice. Out loud.

Veronica gasped and pulled back. He'd spoken. Logan had spoken and his eyes were fluttering open.

"Get the nurse, Dick," Veronica instructed in a hushed command.

"What?" Dick reeled himself in and sat up straight.

"Get the nurse! He's awake!"

Logan's dudebro rushed out of the room and Logan himself finally coaxed open his eyes.

"You're here," he said with a smile and that seemed good, she thought. His hand pawed at the bed until he found hers and he held it gently. "You're really here."

She bent over him; her free hand caressed his forehead. "Oh, Logan, of course. How do you feel?" Veronica asked softly.

He smiled a hazy, dreamy smile and Veronica couldn't help but return it shyly after the initial surprise of his wakefulness. She was still close; the backs of her fingers laid against his forehead as if checking for fever. His eyes fell shut simultaneously. He sighed.

'He's okay,' she thought.

He reached up for her fingers and brought them to his mouth. The kiss was slight, soft, but it might as well have been forty thousand volts. She pulled in two consecutive breaths.

'Maybe not.'

The doctor and two nurses arrived and there was enough time for Dick to scowl at her position at the bedside and their entangled fingers before Veronica was asked to step aside.

Logan frowned.

Veronica backed to the edge of the room—near Dick, but emotionally miles away. She shivered violently once. Her skin goose pimpled and she rubbed up and down each arm in turn absent-mindedly.

"Blood pressure's a bit high, but probably normal for the state of affairs. How do you feel, Mr. Echolls?" The doctor examined his patient with gentle hands and an easy smile.

Logan's brow furrowed. He didn't verbally respond, but he looked right at her. His hand lifted from the bed and reached out.

For her?

"Get some water," the physician instructed a nurse. He turned. "Perhaps it would be best if the two of you waited outside." He nodded at Veronica and Dick, who gave her the stink-eye as she turned her head to catch his reaction.

Veronica suddenly felt intimidated in a way she hadn't for a long time. The physician's request, Dick's anger, Logan's strange actions and return to silence, and what he would and wouldn't remember weighed like a ton of bricks she hoped she'd be able to lug back to the waiting room. She nodded in reply to the physician. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll be outside." She'd intended to make eye contact with the patient, but the nurse rushed back in with the water and the doctor ushered her out into the hall.

Dick gave her a fake smile, bowed, and rolled his outstretched hand in a sarcastic "tip of the hat" to her. "Thanks again, skank. I think I can take it from here."

Veronica turned away from the asshole and towards the nurses' station, but not before she heard Logan.

…girlfriend!"

The door closed.

'Great. He remembers Lily.' Nobody should have to go through that twice.

She'd intended to call the Echollses until she heard the nurses at the desk.

"The Echollses are on their way."

"Seriously, Veronica," Dick nattered on and she realized she couldn't just ignore the tone and the volume of his voice. "You can go. He's awake and he's not gonna want you here."

She looked at him. Really looked because she couldn't even think about what was going on behind Logan's door. Veronica was baffled by what she saw.

Dick appeared… nervous, harried, and she couldn't believe it. He was scared. Now. Logan was alive and awake and Dick was scared now.

"You can't stay."

"I'm staying," she said quietly. Her fingers balled into fists at her side and she couldn't understand why she was fighting so hard to be somewhere maybe no one wanted her to be.

"Wow."

"You're really here."

"You can't," Dick repeated.

"He's my friend, too, Dick!"

"Really? He's your friend? That's why you turned your back on him after…?" Dick blinked. He looked away and swallowed hard. "That's why you got him arrested for possession? And why you skank up on that PCHer to threaten him?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Dick," she hissed. She crossed her arms over her chest. She walked around him, put her back to the hallway, and seethed. "I didn't—

Dick cut her off before she could get any satisfaction. "He's obsessed with you and this feud… or whatever." He waved a hand. "One minute he's moping through lunch and the next," he spoke in a lowered voice, almost a whisper. Veronica heard footsteps behind her.

Mr. and Mrs. Echolls.

"The next minute," Dick continued. His eyes moved between her and Logan's parents' progress. "You're there and he's practically frothing at the mouth. He spits in your face and you give it right back and it's, like, the most alive he gets anymore. It ain't right, Ronnie." He moved closer and maintained hard eye contact. "It ain't right. And, if he's in there with a fresh start, you fucking give it to him." His finger ended up in her face.

It was Veronica's turn to blink.

"Veronica, dear, isn't this wonderful news?" Lynn Echolls asked at her side. Veronica turned and smiled and nodded. The woman patted her arm and Logan's parents proceeded to knock and enter his room.

"That's all I remember!" Dick and Veronica heard Logan exclaim. Lynn's look of concern before the door closed again terrified Veronica.

Dick looked at Veronica pointedly.

'Oh God.'

They'd asked his name three times and he'd answered "Logan" all three times. It's what she'd called him. His last name was Echolls, he supposed, from the physician's greeting.

Beyond that and the girl there was nothing.

But if he had the girl—which he didn't because they'd shuffled her out even as her soft, intriguing smell lingered in his nostrils. If he had the girl, he was certain they could work out the rest.

She was—must've been before whatever it was spouting from them—sunshine. The warmth he'd felt at her closeness when he awoke was… comforting and… real.

And he couldn't understand why there was nothing else. He had memories of her. He knew because her hair was different. Maybe he'd been out awhile. They'd said "coma" so that could mean awhile. People cut their hair after a while.

But that wasn't right, either, because he remembered kissing her, touching her, feathering his fingers through shorter locks. God, he remembered! Frantic kisses, hot and fevered touching, make-outs that didn't go far enough and then… more. He was certain these were not the memories they were looking for. He flushed and his breathing sped up a bit.

The machine noticed.

'Thank God.' He seemed to have mastered at least a private sarcasm.

"I know all of this is probably confusing and upsetting even," his doctor commented on the uptick. "But I need you to stay calm."

Logan rolled his eyes.

So, they'd explained there'd been an accident and now the doctor went on to identify for Logan his place in the world. He was in high school and his parents were on their way.

That checked out, he supposed, since his body seemed like that of a young person and the girl was young. He decided then that it was feasible that parents were in the picture somewhere.

As he spoke, the doctor kept looking to his patient expectantly. "Is there…? Do you know any of this to be true?"

Logan shook his head. "Can my girlfriend come back now?"

"Well, we have some tests to run and I'd like to ask you a few more questions."

Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. He understood gestures, terminology, and mood. He understood life—its value and its assumption, but his mind and the shadow within which it cloaked his own memories of his own life were a puzzle. He understood that, too—the mystery and the greatness of the master organ. The basics were all there.

The doctor was already back to the questions. "How do you remember… Veronica?"

"Veronica?" Logan asked.

"Your girlfriend?" This time a nurse asked. She pushed a cup of ice water into his face.

"Veronica," he repeated. He ignored the water. A smile, slow but sure, took over his lips. His head fell back against the pillow. "Veronica," he whispered. Her name rolled off his tongue and felt marvelous in his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to see her again.

"Yes. Veronica. You remember her."

It was technically a statement, but Logan nodded anyway.

"But you didn't remember her name?" The doctor queried with a raised brow.

Logan shook his head and his smile faltered. Did that matter? "I remembered her face," he said sadly.

"What about the young man who was here?"

"No." Logan shook his head again, suddenly glad for the pillow and the bed. He needed comfort and support. He needed Veronica. "Can my girlfriend come back? Please?" He croaked out his question and closed his eyes with impatience.

"Logan—

"I remember her face!"

There was a knock and the door opened.

"That's all I remember!"

An elegant, refined woman entered with a worry filled look and the click of her heels against the drab linoleum was a welcome distraction. A man followed and Logan recognized a resemblance from the start of this whole thing.

They'd brought him a mirror right away. It hadn't helped.

Until now.

She didn't want to. She really didn't. But the silence from behind the door after the outburst was unnerving. The silence made her need to leave.

Besides, his parents were there now and the doctor said there were tests to be done…

"Okay, I'm leaving. For now." She turned to walk away. She stopped and turned back to face Dick. "But I'll be back." She pointed at the doofus, got in his face. "And maybe he doesn't remember right now, but he will because I'll help him. I'll help my friend and then he'll decide—not you. He'll decide whether I stay or not!"

Dick jerked away at her vehemence, but he still gave her no cause to believe her own hoped upon version of events. "You're nothing to him now, Ronnie," he said in what was nearly a low growl. The sound, the anger rumbled out of him; his disgust and anger more evident than ever.

She guffawed. They'd all been friends. Ages ago, sure, but they had. She'd been part of their circle. Dick's circle. Logan's. Lily's. She had to hope Logan would remember and that it would count for something.

She had to. What else did she have besides hope? He was her oldest friend besides Duncan. They'd been in some kind-of holding pattern from hell for the last year, but they could get back.

"You're here."

She slumped a bit as she stood there in front of him, but she found a small smile for Dick with just the thought of Logan's eyes on her in that room. "Not nothing, Dick. You said so yourself." Her smile grew and it was probably a little feral-looking, too. "You'll see, Dick. You'll see. He and I—we're stronger than this." Her pointer finger flew out and down. "Lily loved both of us and we loved Lily. And we're friends, Dick."

Veronica turned and began the walk to the elevators. She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket.

"Were friends!" Dick yelled. "Were!"

She gave a wave over her head without looking back and began a text to her dad.

==He's awake.==

When she reached her car, she sunk into the driver's seat and fell back against the head rest. She put a hand over her eyes. Veronica took two deep breaths and blew them out between pursed lips.

'Logan's awake.'

The thought was so comforting. And not.

Not that she could wish it any other way. She'd always want him to be here. On this plane of existence. No matter how big a jackass he was. It was just…

A lot.

She now regretted her lack of cases. She'd lately cut back. She'd been approached by at least two students to investigate a petty theft and a cheating boyfriend, respectively,. but she'd turned them away. She'd finished up a case for a friend just before Logan's accident and after? Well, between visiting hours at the hospital and homework each day, one or two stakeouts for her dad on a few evenings, and filing and some light bookkeeping for M.I. on weekends, she was exhausted.

Now? She needed something to take her mind off Logan. She needed space and identity. She needed time to think, time to process their situation—hers and Logan's.

She considered that she might actually need a few other things more immediately.

Like her father. A cup of coffee.

'Or maybe tea,' she thought when she noticed her knee bouncing slightly.

And she needed her favorite snuggly socks and a blanket.

She needed home.

Veronica started the car. She took another deep breath and blew it out. Her phone bleeped. She could see the incoming message as her phone lit up in the passenger seat.

==Good news.==

They ate like always, huddled over dinner at their little island countertop table. Italian because her father knew what she'd needed. Conversation was in question and answer format: Keith's questions about Logan's welfare and Veronica's answers. It could only go on so long because Veronica only knew so much. So much was… not enough and so much was… unknown.

The landline rang. Her father answered.

"Keith? It's Lynn Echolls."

Veronica could hear the woman's voice over the line even though it was her dad on the call.

"Lynn, is everything okay?" Her dad asked. He made eye contact with her. She smashed her spoon into the ice cream and turned infinitesimally into the conversation.

"I think… I need to speak with Veronica if… if that's okay?"

"Of course, she's right here," Keith replied reassuringly. He handed Veronica the phone with an encouraging smile.

She grabbed it and stood. She backed away from the table. "Mrs. Echolls? Is Logan alright?" She asked as her feet carried her back the hallway and into her bedroom.

"Veronica, honey? I know it's getting late, but do you think…?"

Veronica did a loop around her room and then sat on her bed.

"Would you be able to come back in? Just for a little while?" Lynn's voice trembled. "He's… he's… He's just…

Veronica couldn't take the pauses. 'What's going on?' She wondered and she stood again, too anxious to sit still. She paced once around her room again then walked back out and down the hallway.

"He's just so… agitated. And, and he's worried…" Logan's mother began sobbing.

"Oh my gosh! Mrs. Echolls, it's okay. I'll be right there. Tell him I'll be right there." She hung up on the crying woman.

"Dad?"

"I heard, honey. It's okay. Go." He cleared the dessert dishes and started the dishwasher.

Veronica slid on her Keds and a jacket. She grabbed her bag. She took a water bottle from the fridge and kissed her dad on the cheek.

"I won't be long. Visiting hours are over soon."

Her dad's gaze swept over her in acknowledgement and he did a double take. He chuckled. "You sure you wanna go out like that?"

She looked down at herself. She wore her favorite comfy boy pajamas. They were the softest fleece and sky blue decorated with little fluffy cloud animals.

Veronica shrugged. The urgency of Lynn's phone call took precedence.

"Alright, honey. Go take care of your friend," her dad said. "See you later."

"Bye, Dad."

When she arrived on Logan's unit, his father paced between his son's door and the waiting area down the hall. He waved at her as she approached. He gave a slight smile.

"I'll get Lynn. Would you wait?"

She nodded.

He disappeared behind Logan's door and Lynn came out a moment later.

"Oh thank goodness!" She exclaimed and pulled Veronica into a hug. "He thought we were keeping you from him. He's so worried about seeing you," spoke quickly in Veronica's ear.

Veronica could feel the tension in Lynn Echolls's shoulders. She squeezed the woman tighter, rubbed her hands up and down the woman's back.

She couldn't fathom why Logan would be so upset over her. He had his parents and Dick. Plus, she'd heard the nurses at the station whispering something about the Kanes having stopped by to see him. So, yeah, it was a puzzle, but it gave her hope.

"He's refusing to eat," Lynn stated as she pulled back to look Veronica in the eye.

Veronica gave her a soft, but overly exasperated look. "He always was a drama queen," she said drily. "Lead the way." She nodded towards the door.

Mrs. Echolls sniffled and giggled. She brushed a finger under each eye. She smiled. "Oh, thank you, Veronica." They linked arms and stepped through the doorway.

"Logan, honey?"

The boy in the bed continued to stare out the window even as his mother beckoned. He sighed heavily.

Veronica rolled her eyes. The tension in the room was ridiculous.

"So, what's this I hear about you not eating?" She asked and his head spun so fast she worried he might have whiplash. "I was told," she said and opened her eyes to feign innocence and sweetness, "that you'd share your dessert…

Her smart mouth shut right up as soon as she got a load of the look in Logan's eyes.

'Did the room just get hotter?'

"Veronica."

Her name sounded the same and not when he spoke it. And when his eyes raked over her she needed a mental shake right there in front of his parents.

'Get a grip, Mars. He's an invalid and he barely knows his own name.'

She dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes. She moved towards him. He smiled big.

"Whaddya say? Wanna order up a burger from the caff? She asked brightly as she flopped into the chair by his bed.

"I can go or we can. Aaron?" Lynn looked to her husband. He went to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She smiled. "Would you like anything, Veronica?"

"Yes! Ice cream, please. Chocolate, if they have it." She bounced in her seat, put on a little show for her friend's sake.

"You got it, Veronica," Aaron replied and ushered Lynn out of the room.

Logan thought he'd never seen anything as wildly adorable as Veronica in her pajamas. He extended his hand out palm up and she put her tiny one in it and squeezed. "You're real," he amazed. "I—you…

"One hundred percent real, baby!" She exclaimed with a prideful tilt of her chin. Her lips curled exquisitely, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I missed you," he said softly.

She rolled her eyes. "It's only been a couple of hours, Logan." She spoke his name with slight exaggeration. A tear cascaded and she wiped it away fast and smiled.

Logan squeezed her hand back, let her know everything was alright—now. Her fingers wrapped around his were so small in comparison. Small and soft and… nice.

"Wh-where'd you go?" He asked. He brushed his thumb across her soft, small fingers. He noticed her lips part and her eyes darken slightly in response, but before he could get too excited she looked away.

"Home," she explained flatly and then a little more quietly, "to dinner with my dad."

She stared off at a spot beyond the foot of the bed and her sudden aloofness after the crying and the smiles was jarring.

"Okay." He shook their joined hands to get her attention. "That's goo-good." He stuttered over his words too much for his liking. Perhaps it was the girl. Or his lost breath finally caught up to him.

"Yeah, it was." She smiled again—shyly and his heart sped up. "Lasagna."

"Your favorite?" He asked and his thumb circled her knuckle, pressed into the tiny delicate bones of her hand. She still smiled, but her eyebrows came together in confusion.

"Yeah," she answered and maybe he should have already known that answer.

Veronica seemed to shake herself out of her thoughts quickly enough. "Now it's your turn. A growing, healing boy like you's gotta eat, too!" Her brightness returned and it was glorious.

"You're so pretty." He spoke the thought before thinking, but it was sort-of okay because she blushed at the compliment and the pink in her cheeks only enticed him more.

"Okay, mister. Where is that food?" She was playful in her deflection. "You're obviously starving. Or do you have a fever?" She leaned towards the bed and placed her free hand on his forehead.

But, if she thought all the hand-holding and feel-good compliments were a lot to take, her palm held to his forehead, his eyes closing and cheek practically nuzzling into her arm, was just… beyond.

They'd been… enemies.

She curled around him instinctively. The move felt protective. And maybe that was right. Maybe she was protective of this new feeling with him and of this new "them".

"You do feel hot," she said playfully.

He opened his eyes and they were soclose then. She saw everything in his eyes in that moment. Warmth, adoration, attraction.

"Hot for you, maybe," he joked. He waggled his eyebrows.

She nudged him. "Stop." She wondered at their situation, but he was intrinsically Logan after all. He was the flirtatious scallywag he'd always been. Even with the potential brain damage or amnesia, he was charming and daring and altogether too tempting.

The knock on the door had her skittering back and away—physically and emotionally. He kept a firm grip on her fingers, however, and she had to pull the chair slightly back towards him to accommodate.

"Dinner is served," Aaron announced upon entry and Lynn placed a cafeteria tray on Logan's lap.

"This is mine," Veronica said as she wrangled her hand out of his and grabbed for the ice cream at the corner of the tray.

Logan just watched her at first, but then finally dug into his burger. After a bite, "Yech! This is what you've all been going on about!?" He said in disgust with a mouthful. He winked at Veronica.

She tried to hide a smile as she scraped her spoon across the top of her ice cream and created her next bite.

Lynn stood at Logan's opposite side. She reached out and petted down a bit of hair. Her fingers curled around his ear for a moment. She beamed at her son.

"Thank you so much for coming back this evening, Veronica," Lynn said, but her eyes never left Logan's face.

"Mom, stop," Logan said as his mother's hovering and hopeful gaze became too much.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Echolls," Veronica said between bites of her dessert. "It was no problem. I'm glad you called. I know this one can be a real handful." She indicated the boy in the bed with a nod in his direction.

Lynn giggled and Logan's head swung quickly to his mother. He smiled up at her and stuffed a bunch of wilting shoestring fries into his mouth.

"Sometimes," Lynn agreed and gave Logan's hair a quick tousle before moving to Aaron's side at the window.

After some talk of the weather and Lynn's new play and, after several questions about Logan and Veronica's school work, most of Logan's meal was eaten and visiting hours were officially over.

"Well," Veronica began. She dropped her spoon into her now empty dessert cup and returned it to Logan's dinner tray. "My work here is done and I've got class in the morning."

She met Logan's eyes then and wished she hadn't. He looked positively gutted by her announcement. He reached out for her.

"Do you have to go already?" He asked softly.

She clasped his hand gamely and stood. "Don't worry. I'll be back after school tomorrow." She wrapped both hands around one of his. "They couldn't keep me away. And, now that it's not just one-sided conversation, it might actually be fun!" More cheerful brightness and she wondered when she'd gotten so showy.

Logan chuckled. He pulled her a bit closer by their joined hands and placed a quick kiss on the back of hers.

"Goodnight, Logan. Get some rest," she ordered. "I'll bring the rest of your class work tomorrow and help you start getting caught up."

"Okay." Logan nodded. He looked nervous, but there was no getting around hospital rules or her father's. She had to get home.

She stepped away and slid back on her shoes.

"Thanks again, Veronica," Lynn said. "Have a good night."

"Goodnight!"

Aaron waved and Veronica retrieved her bag from the floor and left.

The halls were filled with whispers and murmurs when Veronica arrived at Neptune High the next morning. When she stopped at her locker, she heard Madison Sinclair declare loudly to Shelly Pomroy, "Logan just needs a few of his real friends to stop by and jog his memory."

Veronica grabbed her notebook without even a glance in the other girl's direction, but she felt the glare nonetheless.

"He's still Logan Echolls to me," the bitch continued as Veronica strode past on her way to first period. "He's still the hottest guy in school. He just needs the love of a good woman."

'Yeah, Madison. But you wouldn't know a good woman if she was swathed in a habit and had a halo circling her head.'

Wallace waited for her outside her classroom.

"Hey, Vee. How're you doin'?"

"I'm good." She smiled and knew her relief shone through when Wallace mimicked it upon her next comment. "Logan woke up."

"Yeah. It's all over school. People act like it's the second coming or something." Wallace shook his head.

"Yeah," Veronica agreed softly and stared down at her shoes.

Wallace placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Hey." She raised her eyes to his. "I'm glad he's okay." He pulled her into a side hug and squeezed.

"He doesn't remember." A wave of unexpected sadness and almost hopelessness washed over her.

"I heard that, too. One of the cheerleaders said she didn't care how brain damaged he was. She had something that was sure to," he continued even as he removed his arm from around her to perform finger quotes, "help him remember." He grimaced. "She reapplied her lipstick and her friends all laughed like hyenas."

Veronica's expression pinched in disgust.

"Like it doesn't matter that someone got hurt that night or if he can remember their names or not, he's still… I don't know." Wallace stared into the distance.

"The king is dead," Veronica said and they made eye contact again. "Long live the king." She gave a half smile.

He rolled his eyes. "Just be careful today. People are acting weird."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later," she said as she grasped the strap of her bag more firmly and dragged herself into her first class.

By the end of the day, Veronica was exhausted. Tongues wagged, loudly, and it was difficult—annoying really—to absorb her classmates' hostility while simultaneously listening to the glorification of Logan. She wanted to scream at them, wanted them to know whose hand he'd held upon returning to himself.

"You're here."

But she couldn't. She wouldn't. That was hers and Logan's. She wanted to keep it that way. She'd never change their small minds anyway. She wasn't even sure she'd really changed Logan's.

Duncan's absence from journalism, her last period, was concerning. And now, having made it out to her car in the school lot, she didn't see his anywhere. Dick strutted by her, a feral and smug smile on his lips and she just knew the troops were rallying. Duncan was already at the hospital.

She caught Weevil's eye. His attendance at school had been stellar since he'd been let back on the property. 'Funny, that. And coincidence? Me thinks not.' He nodded in her direction. She broke eye contact as she unlocked her car. 'Keep your head down, Weevs. You don't need the extra attention—especially now that Logan's awake.' She wondered how long it would be before The Echolls and the police would discuss the situation with Logan. When he remembered, she was sure the shit would hit the fan. She doubted Weevil would be walking free and talking trash then.

Veronica was loath to show up at the hospital now, but she'd promised Logan. She pictured him with that moony smile during his dinner and his mother's matching one as she watched him finally resume at least a few of his normal functions. She'd have to put her discomfort with Duncan aside.

Veronica took a deep breath and started her car.

Logan had been antsy all day. They'd done some neurological tests and in between he'd tried to read over some of the classwork she'd left behind. His mother had visited with lunch. Nothing worked.

He needed Veronica. She was his tether to anything that felt… real about himself. His mother was kind and gentle, but he remembered Veronica. He remembered her. The rest was just… not there.

By mid-afternoon he was certain he'd explode with impatience. How long was a school day anyway?

Just then, a knock sounded on his door and it pushed open. Logan sat up straighter, expectantly. He smiled in anticipation, but as the couple entered his room his smile fell.

"Logan?" The guy asked. "Wow. You look good, man." A blonde girl followed, her hand wrapped around the guy's. She smiled sweetly.

He knew he should know them, but the information—their names, his relationship to them—wouldn't come. This attempt at identification or remembrance stifled and the silence became awkward.

"Hi, Logan," the girl greeted. Her eyes were soft and a bit pitying.

"Uh, hi."

The guy broke away from the blonde to take the seat at the bedside. "God, it's good to see you awake, man. I was worried."

Logan nodded. The absence of recall was oppressive, though, and he felt a tension possess him not unlike the day before. His fingers twisted in the blanket and his jaw tightened. "Thank you," he said just as a wave of darkness passed before his eyes. He sucked in a quick breath.

The guy was speaking again, but it was a few moments before Logan could tune in to the words.

"And Dick said you needed cheering up so here we are. Well, Meg insisted," the guy spoke and smiled and pointed to the girl. "She said I had to get in here and see my best friend right away!" The guy gave a full- throated chuckle, his eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Meg?" Logan looked the girl over head to toe. Nothing.

She smiled at him. "Duncan's been so worried. We stopped in a few nights a week after soccer, but… well, it's great to see… this." Her free hand flourished in his direction.

This knowledge—learning the identities of Meg and Duncan—was taxing. Logan tingled all over and static clouded his vision for another instant.

"Duncan." The name felt important. The guy said they were best friends, but Logan couldn't bring forth anything—not a scrap of memory.

"Everybody's been really worried," Duncan went on with freneticism. He broke away from Meg and plunked down into the chair. His hands clasped and unclasped and he moved forward and backward on the chair without seeming to notice his friend's duress. "I mean, we all knew you'd pull through…

'Everybody.' This mysterious group of unknowns beyond the hospital room door had been heretofore inconceivable or, at least, unconsidered. But it could go on like this for some time. Him, alone, in a roomful of people he should know, should remember… and didn't, couldn't.

Logan blinked excessively for a few moments. It was involuntary and stressful. He swallowed once, twice. He pulled in a deep breath and pushed it out between pursed lips. He heard the uptick of the machines.

"… already planning the next kegger. You know how he is."

"Water," Logan interrupted. He pointed to his cup.

"Sure, man." Duncan handed it to him. His brows furrowed. "You okay?"

Logan nodded and took a sip. The tepid water did little to soothe. He took a few more deep breaths and another sip. He handed the water back and closed his eyes.

"Maybe we should—

A knock on the door halted Meg's words.

Logan's heart rate spiked. The thought of more radically friendly strangers was debilitating.

"Hey! Good afternoon!" Her lilt was unmistakable.

"Veronica," he rasped out as he slowly opened his eyes and his lips curled up uncontrollably. "You're here."

She'd expected it. But she hadn't steeled herself well enough, she supposed, because the looks from Duncan and Meg—shock at her presence—were panic-inducing. She wanted to turn tail and run right back to her car until they left, but then Veronica locked in on the patient.

Logan's face was flush and his eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion.

"You're here."

"Meg. Duncan." She greeted coolly as she dropped her bag by the window sill. Logan needed her. She got down to business.

"You alright?" She asked as she placed a palm on his forehead. He was a little warm, but then so was she when he pried her fingers off his head and entwined them with his own.

In her peripheral she noticed Meg paw at Duncan's shoulder a couple of times, attempted to jumpstart their goodbyes. But there was only silence in the aftermath of her intimacy with Logan.

"I am now that my very own little fairy's here," Logan replied.

"Oh, hush, you," she said with a soft smile. God! The way he looked at her was… too much and so endearing. She wrangled her hand away (for the time being) and moved for the water.

She glanced at the room's other two occupants to find at least one agape.

Startled at having been caught staring, Duncan spoke. "What, uh… Veronica." His eyes darted to Logan and back. "Uh, it's nice of you to visit Logan."

Veronica eyed the water cup. "You need ice. I'll be right back, okay?" She ignored Duncan, but she couldn't ignore Logan's pained look. "Right back." She levelled him.

Veronica opened the door and luckily saw one of the patient care assistants lingering nearby. "Julie, could you please bring Logan a refill on his ice water?"

Behind her, she could feel the gaze of three people and hear Meg's quiet plea of Duncan's name.

"Right away, Veronica."

"Thank you so much," she responded.

When Veronica turned around, Duncan stood. "Well, I guess you're in good hands, huh, man?" He kowtowed. There was a smile, but confusion clouded the kindness.

"The best." Veronica rolled her eyes at Logan's assessment.

Meg smiled more brightly and she hugged a surprised Veronica. It eased her a bit so she forgave the slight intrusion. "This is wonderful," the girl whispered into Veronica's hair.

She wanted nothing to do with the proclamation so she let it stand. "See you tomorrow, Meg."

Duncan waggled his eyebrows at her as Meg grabbed his hand. "See you guys," Duncan said and they left.

"What the hell was that?" Veronica heard him ask just before the door closed. And when it swung open again for Julie to reenter with Logan's water, she thought she heard someone shushing from further away.

"Here ya go," Julie said as she handed over the now frosty cup. "Anything else?"

Veronica looked to Logan. He shook his head. "I'm all set, Julie."

Julie smiled. "Okay, guys." The door closed behind her.

"Let's get some of this cool water in you. You look exhausted," she opined.

He sipped at the water for a few moments. "Mmm. Perfect. I needed that." He set it out of the way and pulled her closer by the hand.

'Holding hands with him again, Veronica?' It wasn't something they'd ever really done, but it seemed to comfort him and how could she deny him comfort? Now?

"Sit," he commanded and she did. She inched the chair even closer to his bed.

Veronica rested her other hand over their clasped ones and it felt mildly electric, but oh-so-comfortable. It made his eyes light up, too, so there was that.

"So? How are you feeling?"

"Good. Really good now that you're here. I waited so long for this thing called school to end." He chuckled and the sound was smile-inducing.

His face darkened a moment later. "When they showed up… It was… I didn't like it. Or… my body didn't, I guess. It sounds so stupid, but I think I wore myself out trying to remember who they were…

"That doesn't sound stupid. It makes a lot of sense, actually. You're still healing," she said softly.

He made hard eye contact and she perceived his fear.

"I couldn't remember and then, suddenly, I realized there's a whole world of people out there and I'm gonna have to go through this over and over and over and, yeah, that felt exhausting." He squeezed her hand. She leaned into him a little in support.

"For a little while," she agreed. "But you're gonna get there, I promise."

A puff of air escaped his nose, a silent laugh of disbelief. "You promise, huh?"

In that moment, he sounded more like Logan Echolls than he had in the last day.

"I remember you," he stated wistfully. "There's you and nothing else."

She sat up straight again. "Sweet talker," she replied coyly.

He smiled bigger and gave a small chuckle.

"Why don't you rest? I'll be here. I can study…

"No way. I waited all day to see you." He looked at her—really then. "God, it was worth it!" He squeezed her hand again.

'Yes, Logan, the electrical current's running fine.'

She rolled her eyes in response to his flattery. "You need the rest. That's how you're going to heal and get your memory back." She swallowed back her fear at the thought. She wished her position here with him wasn't so tentative.

"Hmm." He sounded doubtful, but then his eyes brightened with an idea. "Hey, I will if you'll climb up in here with me!"

And that was definitely something they'd never done! She'd never napped or slept in the same bed with Logan. Their friendship developed as their bodies did, she supposed, and girl / boy sleepovers during puberty were a little off-putting to the parentals.

"We shouldn't… I shouldn't… the hospital…

He interrupted Veronica's stammering. "Just come on." He pulled on her hand and made room for her. "It's so weird, but—

He looked at their joined hands for a moment too long. She shook him back to the conversation. He made brief eye contact then looked back down at their hands. "I just want to hold you," he mumbled. "Like, I feel like that's what I'm supposed to do."

Veronica's heart rate ratcheted upwards. She felt a heat rise up her face at his soft words. She still struggled to understand how her frenemy could affect her in this way, but she couldn't imagine turning him down after his display of vulnerability.

'Get down to business, Veronica,' she thought then embarrassed herself with her own slightly dirty musings on the word 'business'. 'Not that business, geez! Be business-like!'

Before she could lose her nerve, Veronica stood and toed off her shoes. She climbed in and he gathered her into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and tried to relax. Her heart hammered at their nearness, but she hugged into him anyway. He was solid and real and okay. That was good.

The problem? If he kicked her out of his life after this? That would be very, very bad.

He kissed the top of her head. "Thank you. I needed this."

She brought her arm from around his waist up to his opposite shoulder. Her fingers curled around it and, below, she draped one leg over his. Her heart rate evened out a bit as she got comfortable in his arms. "You need me, I'm here," she said as she stifled a yawn. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was herself.

He'd talked Veronica into bed and they'd slept for a little over an hour by the time he roused. He felt so at peace he wasn't sure what could have woken him.

Then he felt her move. In sleep, her fingers had sought his skin and she'd worked a hand under the hem of his t-shirt. It crept lazily back and forth across his stomach a couple of times causing a delightful tension below. She was still asleep, he was sure. He heard a slight snuffling a moment later which cemented the fact. Still, when her fingers began to descend to his hip, he couldn't help the tight groan that slid from his lips. Looking down at her snuggled into him, he decided she was cuter than a kitten and more beautiful than the fiercest lioness. He grabbed her wandering fingers and brought them up to his lips.

He knew… remembered (?) they had an exciting sex life—one he couldn't wait to get back to, but he hadn't expected to have such an immediate and strong reaction to her presence. It took everything in him to keep calm and collected, especially with her delicate, sleepy fumblings under his shirt.

Her face raised in response to his lips on her knuckles. He could kiss her. He wanted to kiss her, but they'd never been alone or there hadn't been enough time—before.

He brushed his lips across hers. She breathed deeply and released a contented sigh. Logan caught her top lip between his two and sucked ever so slightly. Her taste and the feel of her exhilarated. He repeated his oral ministrations and she moaned daintily. Her fingers pressed around his thumb and he went for it one more time. Slowly, Veronica began to respond. Her thigh tightened around his and it was goodbye fortitude as his erection came on fast and furious. His tongue swept into her mouth and she massaged it with her own. Her little sounds were encouraging and dizzying. They explored each other slowly, easily. He tightened his embrace and drew her closer still. When she nibbled his lip, and pressed her tongue behind his teeth, he moaned and his hips bucked up involuntarily.

Veronica broke the kiss on a gasp. "Oh God! I'm so… Oh God!" She untangled herself from him and jumped out of the bed while apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Logan! I shouldn't have… You're… in here." Her hands indicated the bed. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry." She covered her face with her hands.

"It's –

She beat a hasty retreat to his bathroom before he could continue.

'What did you just do, Veronica?'

She turned on the faucet and cupped her hands beneath it. She brought the cool water to her face. The water splashing over her brow and cheeks soothed and grounded her. She grabbed a few paper towels and dabbed at her wet skin. She took a deep, calming breath.

'It's okay. You apologized. He doesn't know it's wrong.' She tossed the towels and straightened her rumpled clothes. She looked herself in the eye. 'But you do.'

Another deep breath. She could just apologize again. She could stay out of Logan's bed. She could rein in the touching and flirting.

She nodded. 'A solid plan.'

There was a loud bang and then no mistaking Dick's booming voice.

Veronica took another deep breath. Dick Casablancas wouldn't exactly dim the tension, but his presence might be a good distraction.

"Uh, hey, man," she heard Logan respond. She detected confusion in his tone, but Dick didn't seem fazed.

As Veronica exited the bathroom, Dick was already in the middle of deconstructing last night's rager at John Enbom's.

"You know how he's got the sweet sauna? I finally got Madison in there in nothing but her- what the…?" Dick broke off when he saw Veronica.

"Dick," she greeted coldly. She felt Logan's eyes on her and, when she glanced his way, she caught him studying her, reading her cues. She got lost for a moment in the stare with him. Despite the inquisitiveness of his gaze, the color of his eyes—their depth and warmth muddled and dazed her.

"Oh my God, dude! You did not sink that low?! Jesus," he said in disgust and shook his head.

"Shut up, Dick," Veronica spat.

"What?" Logan asked at the same time. He seemed to have gotten lost right along with her and Veronica couldn't help but notice how cute he looked coming out of their… whatever it was.

"Dude, you don't need to eye fuck the help," Dick said in an obvious faux aside.

"You're not whispering, Dick, just so you know," she chided.

Dick ignored her. "I know you lost your memory and shit, but let me clear some stuff up for you."

Logan eyed Dick up and down. He tried to fathom this guy in front of him, but if the guy hated Veronica like it seemed, Logan didn't think they could be very good friends.

Dick's hand shot out toward the bed and him. "See, you? You're Logan Echolls. And that?" Dick pointed at Veronica. "That's Veronica Mars. Do you remember," Dick looked up as he spoke, "cars?"

Logan laughed. "I'm familiar with the times we live in and modes of transportation, yes." He wasn't sure where the guy was going with his thoughts, but a niggling familiarity set in as Logan studied him.

"I mean, kinds of cars," Dick clarified, but pushed onwards without an answer. "You're like a… a Maserati Gran Turismo. Sleek, clean lines—

"Wait," Veronica interrupted. "Are you…?" Logan watched as her whole countenance changed to one of wide-eyed innocence. "Are you in love with Logan?"

Dick glared at her. She giggled a bit and Logan chuckled at that. "She's a used Dodge Omni. Cheap and boxy."

"Man, that's enough," Logan said. He hated the look on Veronica's face and how she'd wrapped her arms around herself. Her insecurity was astounding. Surely, she didn't believe this idiot.

"Come on. You've had the best trim Neptune High has to offer," Dick stated as if it was an indisputable fact. "I mean, Caitlyn Ford?"

Logan had no idea who they were talking about, but Veronica's sharp sound of distaste was telling.

"Shut up, Mars!" Dick's eyes fell back on Logan after he issued Veronica a death glare. "You know what I'm talking about, man? I mean, every time we went to TJ or L.A., you had the…" The guy paused and shut his eyes tight in remembrance. "Hottest. Babes." He leveled Veronica with another glare. She rolled her eyes.

Logan noticed Veronica's arms tighten around herself. She glanced briefly at him before she made a move to pick up her bag.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Thought I'd let you and Dick visit," she stated.

"No, don't—

"It's okay. I'm just gonna hit the library or the caff."

"Yeah," Dick concurred. "You could stand a little meat on those bones. Especially up top." Dick leaned across the bed, his hand raised and ready for a high five. "Am I right?"

"That's enough, Dick," Logan chastised as he looked his "friend" dead in the face. "Veronica," he turned to her. "Please stay, okay?"

The smile that greeted him was glorious and he decided he wanted to see it all the time. She made a move towards him when Dick scoffed.

"That must be some magic carpet you let my man here ride," Dick goaded.

"Ugh! Where do you come up with these euphemisms?" Veronica asked in disgust.

"Cut it out or go," Logan directed and pointed to the door.

"No way, man. If she's staying, I'm staying. She's not getting her claws in further," Dick explained.

"It's not like that. She's my—

Veronica cut him off. "Not that it's any of your business, but we're… friends."

Dick pouted and mumbled. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Well, that's not exactly right," Logan disputed. He reached for her hand, but she withdrew back into herself. Logan felt himself frown. "That's… that's—

Dick laughed. "Oh shit!" His fist covered his mouth. "I was just messing around, but you—geez!"

"Shut up, Dick. Nobody's been giving magic carpet rides or jacking beanstalks or—or—any other of your… code words for sex!" Veronica stared him down while Logan guffawed.

His mind conjured up all the reasons why what she espoused was wrong. He pictured her laid out—half-lidded and breathless beneath him as he buried himself in her luscious, gripping heat.

Then, to distract the two seething parties from his oncoming embarrassment, "That's not how I remember it." But Logan immediately wished the words back in his mouth. Everything stopped and his two visitors turned to look at him.

'The guy with the memory problems spouting a testament? Idiot!' He scolded himself.

He wasn't comforted by the quirk of Veronica's eyebrow or her faltering smile.

"How do you… remember it?" She asked slowly and her whole body took on a nervous quality. She sat again and smoothed the lines of his blanket with fidgeting, busy hands. Her eyes found that work quite interesting, too.

Dick sat up and moved further forward on his chair—much too interested in Logan's answer for his liking. "Yeah, dude, how do you remember it?"

Logan felt a heat envelop him. His mind hadn't forgotten how to showcase his embarrassment. "It's not fit for public consumption, dude," he mumbled. He was too afraid to look at Veronica. He saw her gape for a moment in his peripheral as he watched Dick scowl slightly and fall back into his chair with arms crossed over chest.

Veronica clamped her mouth shut. 'He's confused me with Lily.' She smiled, forced it. She needed to be brave and tell him already. She had hoped for privacy when the subject came up, but Dick was Logan's friend, too, and Logan would need all the support he could get.

Logan stared at his lap or at Dick, but he avoided eye contact with her. She laid her hand on his forearm and rubbed soothingly when he finally looked her way, she smiled again, softly.

"I think you might be confused, Logan." Veronica ached to slide her hand into his, regretted not allowing that same comfort a moment earlier. "I think you're thinking of Lily." Her voice broke on her friend's name and Dick shuddered.

Logan's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked between his two visitors. "Lily? Is that your… twin or something?"

Veronica laughed before she could stop herself. "Some people thought—

"Please!" Dick interrupted. His eyes openly grazed her chest. "Nobody mistook you for that hot piece of—

"Dick!" Veronica scolded, but Logan also glared at the guy. Dick rolled his eyes.

'Wait. What?' Veronica looked back at Logan. 'Why would he ask if she was my twin?'

"Don't look at her like that," Logan said to his friend.

"Whatever, man." Another eyeroll. "Not interested."

"Logan?" Veronica swallowed her nerves. "Do you remember Lily?"

Logan turned towards her and smiled. His fingers somehow ended up entwined with hers. The action calmed her. The connection was soothing, but the fear that any connection they shared might disintegrate after this conversation was ever present.

Dick's ears pricked up at the question. He definitely smiled big.

'He's waiting for him to kick me out,' Veronica thought. Her joy at Logan's earlier deference abated and the man in question only continued to stare at her in confusion.

"Logan?" She rubbed her thumb across his knuckle. "You remember Lily?"

He smiled shyly. "I remember you."

"Ugh! Save it for private special time. No more eye fucking, you sap!" Dick flung himself backwards in the chair.

"Dick, please!" Veronica exclaimed in frustration and held up her palm in his direction.

He chuckled. "That's what I like to hear."

She ignored the jackass. Logan's look of chagrin deflated her, however.

'What did he mean, then? If he wasn't thinking of Lily?'

"Who's Lily?"

"Yeah, Ronnie," Dick interjected. "Who's Lily?" The wide, unnerving smile was back.

"Dick, could you give us a few minutes?" Veronica asked pleasantly enough, but to no avail.

"Not a chance."

"Logan." She turned back to the boy in the bed. She looked down at their joined hands, their tether.

"Veronica," he nearly whispered and she shivered with the softness of her consonants around his tongue and over his teeth. Her mind instantly flew back to their kiss and she quickly got lost in the memory. Logan shook their joined hands and she was jolted out of her reverie. He smiled at her slight distress and she tried to return it, but the niggling fear lingered.

"Lily was," Veronica began reluctantly. Her eyes darted to Dick. Whatever she thought of the guy, she knew he cared about Logan. The look of concern on his face discouraged her further. "She was your girlfriend." She squeezed Logan's fingers.

His smile remained, but his confusion was evident. Suddenly, though, his eyes cleared and he lifted her hand to his mouth. Warmth spread throughout her body with the touch of his lips to her skin. "Before you?" He asked.

"N-no." She wrapped her other hand around their two. "She was your girlfriend."

"No," he said certainly. He shook his head in the negative. "Impossible." He still smiled.

"Yes," she contradicted. They both held tighter. "She was my best friend. She, uh… Logan, she died."

Logan sat up straighter and his knee began to bounce. "I… I don't," he got out before he saw it.

There was a flash and he pictured another girl—not Veronica. This girl had large, round, beautiful eyes, long dirty blond hair, and a gaping head wound. He felt hot and fidgety—anxious. The machines alerted everyone in the room to the fact.

He tried again. "I don't …" He let go Veronica's hand and covered his face, knuckled his eyes for a moment.

"Logan?"

He blew out a breath, but that was the wrong action because in the next moment he was on the verge of passing out. His eyelids fluttered shut, but he fought the blackness.

"I don't know… don't know about that," he said through gritted teeth, but it was obvious his body was about to betray the not-quite-a-lie.

Logan saw the girl again. She wore an impish grin and crooked a finger at him. He cried out once in anguish over the still-unidentified connection to the pretty girl.

He flushed again and his breath left him momentarily. When his vision grew dark he fell back into the bed. He wasn't lucky enough to pass out, however, and so his audience surrounded and pestered him.

"Logan?" Veronica queried. Her fingers laid across his forearm, warm and soothing and… trembling?

His brow furrowed.

Everything came back at once. Everything. Lily's death, his parents' troubled marriage, his childhood, his friends. The memories just seemed to instantly… re-implant themselves or fall back in place within the framework of his mind and they were… overwhelming and overbearing. They overpowered his senses and disposition.

"Logan?" She repeated and gripped harder. He felt the bite of fingernails, but he couldn't face her. "Get a nurse." He heard Veronica instruct tersely and, if he could trust himself in his current condition, with a bit of panic behind her tone.

But he couldn't trust himself in his current condition.

He suddenly sucked large, hulking breaths into his lungs seemingly without any ability to quit. His fingers grasped the coarse hospital bedding and his eyes tore open. He tried to sit up, but found his body too exhausted from the fight with consciousness. The work his lungs performed with room air was too much.

The memories of the last six months popped to the forefront. He looked everywhere but into the face of the girl who figured the most prominently in them.

Not for lack of her trying.

"Logan," she spoke softly at his ear and there were more fingers—across his forehead so softly. Her touch did soothe somewhat.

But he couldn't control the hyperventilating and, even though he shut his eyes once more to the concern he knew would show on her face, he could do little else. His fingers twisted in the sheets.

"Relax," she cooed and, as much as he wished it, her breath across his neck wouldn't, couldn't have that desired effect. "Breathe." Her voice was smooth and low and as enchanting as in his dreams. "I'm here. I'm here. Breeeeathe."

The same. As in his dreams.

A tear slid from his eye and careened down his cheek. One more thing he couldn't control. Her palm whisked from his temple to his cheek and her thumb swiped it away, rubbed it into his skin.

"You're okay, Logan." Veronica's hand at his arm worked itself around his at the balled-up blanket. While one thumb caressed just under his eye, the other brushed over his whitened knuckles and his eyes squinched shut even tighter.

"Logan," she kept on, "we're all here for you. To help."

Somehow her fingers curled around his and worked the fabric out from under. Then they interlaced—five fingers hers and five fingers his.

"Shhh," she whispered and her lips brushed his ear. She squeezed his fingers and he squeezed back. "That's it. I'm here." Her palm fell to his chest.

The tightness there loosened a bit. His breathing evened out as her palm swirled and patted down his sternum.

His dream. His memories. They weren't the same.

His "memories" of Veronica—how he remembered her and them, together—weren't memories at all but fantasies out of his fucking rotation. His memories of Veronica—his real ones from the last six months were soaked in bitterness, hatred, intrigue, lust, and… regret.

He was red; he felt the flush rise from his neck to his face again and he hoped to God she associated it with his attack.

"It's okay. I'm here." She kissed his cheek and he finally opened his eyes and looked at her. "It's okay. Shh. Feel whatever you're feeling." Another kiss—closer to his mouth because he'd turned slightly towards her. "I'm not going anywhere, Logan. Not unless you tell me to."

He squeezed her fingers automatically and she smiled.

"That's it, Logan."

His breathing regulated, but now he couldn't seem to look away from her. He was certain his mouth gaped as he read the concern and relief in her eyes. She brought their joined hands to her cheek and his heart melted. Her other arm curled around his head and brushed his hair back and away.

"I'm here and we're friends and that's all that matters." Perhaps the words were some sort of mantra for her. She spoke them over and over for several minutes.

He was beholden to her. He treated her like less-than for nearly a year and still… And still…

His fingers tightened their grasp. Another tear eeked its way out.

The nurse showed up with Dick in tow. She wore a smile, but it fell when she eyed the patient. "I think I need a minute alone with Mr. Echolls," she said.

Logan's breath escaped him and his heart rate sped up once more. He squeezed Veronica's fingers again- the secret Morse code only recently worked out between the two of them. "Please," he rasped out and looked between her and his nurse. "Please." The word was louder the second time, but it cost him. His head fell back and his eyes closed. "Please," he practically whispered with what felt like limited air.

"I think I should stay," Veronica stated authoritatively and he leaned into the hand she laid against his cheek. "It's okay, Logan. Relax. It's okay."

He reopened his eyes to her smiling face. Her eyes were watery and once again he couldn't think of anything more beautiful, more ravishing than this girl. He raised a brow in question and she knew. Her smile grew larger, even more beautiful. She shook her head in mock reprimand.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me to." Another authoritative statement. Then she laughed a little, almost blubbered. "Right?"

He nodded slowly and maintained eye contact. The watery, cerulean portals to her soul told him so much and not enough.

"Alright, well, Mr. Casablancas, could you please step outside for a few moments?"

Dick was nonplussed. He looked to Logan who simply looked to Veronica.

"It's okay, Dick. I got this."

The next few hours were rough. The doctor, along with his parents, invaded his room. Veronica had been newly sent away and his attack had left him sweaty and irritable. He needed a shower and time.

'What the fuck am I gonna do about Veronica?' He wondered. He needed to see her again—alone—to gauge her thoughts. They'd kissed and she'd slept in his arms and he couldn't forget…

He laughed out loud. All eyes fell on him. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Darling," his mother cooed at his bedside. "You're okay, that's what's important. We don't have to bring the Sheriff in immediately."

"That's not, strictly speaking, true. The police must be notified of this change, as I've explained," the doctor said in what seemed to be a sycophantic frustration.

'The police?' Logan was still a bit confused. 'About Lily?'

"We'll get them in tomorrow morning," his father decided. "We need to hear Logan's side and consult with our lawyer. That gang banger's been walking free for weeks. What's one more night?"

'Weevil. The fight. Why I'm here. Got it.'

"Look, Doc," Logan began. "I'm with him. I need to collect my thoughts, take a shower, and rest." He pushed back his covers and made to stand. He hadn't needed assistance for a few days now, but after earlier he felt a bit wobbly.

"Nurse!" The physician shouted as he pressed the call button. When Louise arrived, he instructed, "The patient needs help to the shower and a fresh gown or… night clothes." He waved a hand.

"And can my girlfr—can Veronica come back?" He asked.

"I'll see if she's still here," Aaron said. "And I'll call Bill Sherman." He looked at his wife who nodded.

"Come on, Logan," Louise said. "Lean here, okay? Will you be alright to shower?" She disconnected the heart monitor and, when released from his tether, Logan felt freer, more stable.

"Yeah. Unless… wait, are you offering to join me?" He winked and Louise chuckled.

"Oh, Logan," Lynn chastised, but smiled around it.

"I don't think Veronica would approve, young man," Louise joined Lynn in spirit.

Logan's heart sank. Veronica. How could he have done those terrible things to her, said all that hurtful stuff? How had she sat at his bedside? How had she held his hand and talked him back from the brink? A fresh emotion tore through him and he inhaled sharply.

"Did I hurt you?" Louise asked.

"No. I'm okay from here."

"Okay, I'll find you some scrubs to change into for now." She let go, but her expression was one of concern.

"I'll be fine, Louise. Thank you," he replied as reassuringly as he could.

"So polite now that I've brought up Miss Veronica, aren't we?" Louise kidded.

And Logan couldn't help the chuckle—or the thought of Veronica that flitted through his brain. There was black leather involved… and handcuffs. "So polite," Logan agreed.

She closed the door and Logan started the water in the shower. He removed the comfortable t-shirt and sleep pants his mother had brought for him a couple of days prior. He climbed under the pelting water and willed himself to relax. He turned his back to the shower head, closed his eyes, and allowed the cascade. The water over his hair and eyes and mouth felt wonderful. He pushed his hair back and reached for the shampoo.

A knock on the door alerted him to someone's presence.

"Logan? I'm putting the fresh scrubs on the sink. You still doing okay?" Louise asked rather loudly.

"Still doing great. Thanks." He ran his hands over his head and lathered the shampoo into his hair.

He washed up swiftly, Veronica embedded inextricably in every thought.

How had she slept in his arms—limbs and… delightful other body parts pressed fully against him? 'God! The kisses and her eyes and…'

His mind scrambled, wondered where they stood now after all that and after what came before. She'd promised she wouldn't leave and she'd promised friendship so he held out hope on at least seeing her again.

But school and Dick and the guys and Weevil…

'Shit!'

He caught his reflection in the mirror. They'd removed the stitches two days ago but his hair still looked wonky from the operation. He looked okay, though, for having had brain surgery. He supposed it could be a helluva lot worse than wonky hair.

'What to say about Weevil?' He came to no kind of conclusion before he opened the door to… the quiet.

"Hey," she greeted softly from where she leaned against the window sill backlit by the dusk.

His heart ached and pounded fiercely in his chest at the sight.

Veronica swallowed hard. She eyed his damp head as a water droplet rolled down his neck and the peek-a-boo chest hair that snuck out from the vee of his scrub top. He brought his hand up to address that bothersome droplet and she shivered at the memory of that glorious, manly, and huge bicep he now flaunted cradling her.

'Relax, Veronica. This Logan might throw you out on your ass in a minute.'

"Where is everyone?" He asked.

"Your mom said to say they'd be back with the cavalry in the morning," Veronica said as she stood and moved towards him. She closed in and grabbed his hand. "Upright looks good on you," she said cheerfully.

He looked… relieved. She squeezed his hand and was about to let go when he pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around his torso and she felt him sigh into her hair.

"Thank you so much."

She didn't respond only leaned into him. He smelled like hospital and the scrubs were stiff against her cheek, but the warmth underneath—the heat and heartbeat—was all Logan. Her Logan. Her friend, she amended.

"You are… amazing and …" He breathed out heavily and choked a little. "Don't give up on me, okay?"

"I never did," she mumbled into his chest and he kissed her crown. She rubbed her arms up and down and across his back to comfort her friend.

Another heavy sigh and Logan pulled back from her. He peered down and, when she looked up, her knees very nearly buckled.

'Oh my!' The boy had the molten chocolate gaze down to a "T". 'Friends, Veronica. Friends,' she reminded herself.

Except… his fingers brushed across her cheek and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned towards her and his fingers cupped the back of her neck to bring her closer. His lips grazed hers and she curled her arms under his to steady herself. His mouth slanted with only slightly more force and she opened to him. If it was possible, he brought her closer, chests and hips flush. He licked into her mouth and she moaned with the sensation. Thousands of tiny shivers whispered through muscle and tissue—one shiver for every papilla swiped over every one of hers.

"You're heavenly," Logan murmured into their kiss and she practically purred.

This was what all the girls went on about. If he used one tenth this charm on any of those other girls… Of course, what the other girls found disarming, Lily found stifling. Veronica would never understand. As Logan whispered sweet nothings and curved protectively around her, she only melted. She hated to think of herself as one of many, but this boy, this man brought more emotion, more sensation, more everything out in her. Her friend barely put up with that sort of behavior. If Lily herself was to be believed, she was more wham, bam, thank you, Logan than cuddle mate. In the moment, Veronica thought she could be quite happy kissing him for hours.

His lips were soft and firm and commanding and soothing and she shouldn't be feeling so many feelings about her friend. A swipe of tongue along the back of her teeth and a nibble to her bottom lip and she felt a tickle below. 'Jesus!'

After a few more moments, Logan pressed his forehead to hers as he ended the kiss. They panted fiercely, lungs stretching and filling after their lengthy deprivation.

"Veronica," he whispered. "You're here and…

She stopped listening after those two words.

'What are you doing, Veronica? He just recovered his memory and here you are taking advantage of residual flashback… something,' she reprimanded herself.

"What about Weevil?" She hurriedly questioned, cutting off Logan's speech.

"Well, uh, I'm not sure he'd be interested in spending more time together, studying or otherwise. In fact," he said with a smirk. "That's kinda why I'm here."

Veronica brought her hands to Logan's chest—his very firm and well-defined chest—and pushed back, out of his embrace.

"I'm serious, Logan. You can't even think about all that getting back to normal stuff until you take care of your legal situation."

"Right, but the cavalry's not here 'til tomorrow." He reached for her again.

"Logan." She put a hand on his torso and he sucked in a quick breath.

'Are those abs?'

"Maybe we should talk. Be ready for the cavalry," she wheedled.

He nodded. "Maybe. The parental units don't seem very concerned, though." Another smirk. "Rushing home for the night after their only son snaps out of his amnesia. And my mother was a soap star, she knows the importance of a scene like that." He shook his head in faux disappointment.

Veronica couldn't believe she'd forgotten his sarcasm—the old Logan was famous for it. She'd allowed herself to be lulled and tranquilized. Amnesia Logan mollified her with his sweetness and lightness. They'd been in a bubble within the four walls of his hospital room. Even Dick hadn't penetrated it, but now, well, time was up evidently. Snarky Logan was reality again.

"But if we just go over what happened—

"Ah, there's the Veronica Mars I remember—all business," he said with a wide smile and she couldn't discern the sincerity.

Veronica felt as if she'd been slapped. She stepped back. "I get it, Logan. Someone's future hangs in the balance, but since he's from the wrong side of the tracks, you're gonna adopt this laissez faire attitude," she stated bitterly.

How did this boy go from tenderly holding her in bed earlier to disaffected? She blushed with the thought of waking up wrapped around him and flushed over top it with fury at his current demeanor.

'Am I an idiot to give him credit for being anything other than a huge jackass?'

'And wasn't I just giving Weevil crap about this very same thing?' She didn't want to take sides, she supposed. It was all horribly sad. Bullshit male posturing over a dead girl that lead to a real, possibly life-altering, injury for one of them and a real, possibly life-altering, jail sentence for the other. There were no winners here.

Logan watched the varied emotions flicker behind her eyes and over her features. He couldn't help but recall his comparison from earlier—fierce lioness, indeed. He sagged with the realization that he'd disappointed her and, on top of everything else today, he was left exhausted.

He lowered himself back into bed and pushed into his pillows.

"Veronica," he sighed exasperatedly. "It isn't like that." He closed his eyes. "I'll tell everyone, okay? The cops, my parents, their slimy lawyer—everyone. It was a fight over nothing, er, something stupid. It was a fight and I lost." He kept his eyes closed and brought a hand up to cover them. "And I got bitchy because I just… sort-of woke up today and it's a lot, okay?" He reopened his eyes to find her at his bedside. She sat tensely, contritely in her usual spot. "I'm not gonna make them put your buddy in jail. I'm gonna tell the truth." He blew out a breath through pursed lips. "It's just," he went on, arms flailing. "You stayed and you kissed me—twice and I just… wanted—I just wanted to be with you for a while." The movement and confession tired him further and he laid back once more with closed eyes.

"Okay," Veronica said timidly. "I'm sorry. I know it's a lot." She was gauging him. Even without looking he could tell her eyes were on him, assessing. "For me, too. The business, as you call it, is my coping mechanism, I guess."

Silence followed. Moments and moments of it.

When he finally opened his eyes, hers flashed to them and they both smiled a little gingerly at one another.

"And I stayed because I said I would. We're friends," she said and he could read the question in her eyes.

He nodded. "We're friends."

'Friends who kiss,' he hoped.

The relief at his words showed in her eyes. She blinked away tears and smiled. Her brave little face so in contrast to before—with Dick—crushed him. He longed to hold her, but knew she'd never allow it now. Now that he was himself again—the bastard who hurt her for these last months, the entitled little shit who'd smashed her headlights and slashed her tires—there was little chance they'd even be real friends let alone be what he now desired more than anything. In the moment, he hoped they could turn it around and at least get back to where they'd once been, but the odds were against them. He'd have to try, though, if only for a chance to taste her again, to feel her. Two kisses with Veronica Mars had been world shattering.

She still smiled kindly at him and, for the time being, that had to be enough.

He closed his eyes and she spoke. "I should go. Let you get some rest."

His heart sank. It was happening already. "You could stay," he offered. "Cuddle up?" He cringed inwardly. He couldn't stop himself asking her. He patted the bed, but didn't open his eyes. He'd give her the out if she wanted it, but he'd had to try even if it left him feeling like a glutton for punishment.

"Logan," she sighed out so softly he almost didn't hear. "As much as I'd love to… stick around and see you clear everything up tomorrow morning," she stumbled over her words.

'Wait. What?' His eyes flew open. 'She'd love to crawl into bed?' She said "stick around", he heard "crawl into bed". Sue him.

"I'm pretty sure my dad would have a coronary. Plus, he'll want an update. Everyone will. We've all been so worried."

He let go a small laugh. "Some more than others." He took her hand and rubbed his thumb across the back of the tiny appendage. He relished the pink tinge to Veronica's neck and cheeks that followed.

She looked at the floor demurely and when had that happened? 'Is the old Veronica still in there somewhere?' He'd been pretty certain he'd chased her away—or Lily's death had done it. This badass version was so in-your-face and sexy with her short skirts and butch boots he barely remembered her sweet side.

But she'd been sweet for weeks—taking care of him, they'd said. And she'd said they were friends and that's all that mattered. That sentiment was all old school little Ronnie Mars.

He pushed his luck. He brought her fingers to his lips.

She smiled as she stood. He let her hand go after a squeeze. To his surprise, she brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed just above his left eye.

"Goodnight, Logan." Her fingers lingered in his damp hair. "Sweet dreams."

'Of you, always,' he thought. Out loud, he asked, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She'd already turned to leave. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away," she tossed over her shoulder with a smile.

Logan didn't think he'd ever seen or heard anything more wonderful.

Veronica was thrilled with the day's outcome. Well, minus Logan's terrible attack and the complete and utter embarrassment of her accidental make-out with her enemy turned newest (or is that oldest?) pal, the overall mood seemed… good.

Now if she could only get the butterflies in her stomach to relax and the tingle in her lips to subside—she'd be golden.

Friends.

With Logan Echolls.

She giggled and covered her mouth to stifle the sound as it carried through the quiet hallway. The lights had been dimmed for bedtime and the nurses clustered with report and gossip. Veronica hurried past all that to her car. Her stupid hand was too small to contain the stubborn and ever-widening smile splitting her lips even as buoyant thoughts of the future flitted and flickered within her.

Logan's arm around her, their eyes drawn to each other as they walked together to class. A celebratory hug—too tight and a little too long—at Wallace's game as their friend scored another winning point. Her hand loosely, leisurely held in his, arms swinging companionably as they walked Back Up on the beach at dusk. His tongue in her mouth and his hands cradling her hips as they kissed goodnight on the veranda outside her apartment door.

Not those kinds of thoughts. Friendlier thoughts—or less friendly. But still friend-like. Whatever.

Logan was true to his word. The Echolls didn't press charges. Weevil got sixty days of community service and an assault charge added to his record. The law couldn't overlook his negligence in abandoning the scene of the altercation, it seemed, and so he spent hours by the highway on trash duty or in gloves designed to eliminate the stigma of dishpan hands from scrubbing plates and pots at the local soup kitchen.

Daily life returned to normal or… well, a routine was established. Dick, Duncan, Meg, and other 09ers were a part of it, but so were Mac and Wallace. There were walks down halls and on the beach. In fact, most of Veronica's twitterpated, girlie-girl fantasy thoughts from the day Logan regained his memories had already come true. All but one.

But, hey, it wasn't her fault Wallace hadn't scored a winning point in a while.

A/N: The missives below contain potential spoiler material for season 4. If you haven't seen the new episodes and would prefer to remain in the dark until you do, please do not read further.

Dear Mr. Thomas, I LOVE your show. Like, really love it. The first time I sat down to watch years and years ago, I was smitten with the writing. I was too old even then. I shouldn't have been watching a show about teenagers, but I grew up on Nancy Drew and so I had to take a look. The father / daughter banter and Veronica's general wise-assedness were so perfect. This is a girl (a girl!—I know, so pathetic to have to say even in that day and age) attempting to bring her best friend's killer to justice, solving her own rape, taking on a motorcycle gang, a family of Irish thugs, and the FBI all the while surviving her peer tormentors and making top marks in school. ("Give me a stick of gum and I can do all three at once.") And Kristen Bell (seriously, where did you find this marvel?) personified her. I've followed the woman's career since and, while I think she is phenomenal, she never seems quite at home anywhere else. But then something dumb happened. Instead of rooting for Veronica to take down her number one tormentor, I started wanting something different. I guess that is another testament to Ms. Bell's talents, too, but also to Mr. Dohring's since I've read it was never your intention to bring their characters together in that particular way. I wish I would have stuck to my feminist worldview and held myself as firmly to the Bechdel test as your show did, but instead I turned into the squealing fangirl hoping for more and more and more stories that brought Logan and Veronica together. I think making the movie made you a bit sad. (I read some stuff that indicated that some fans sort-of demanded more of the LoVe story and were less concerned, maybe, with the mystery.) I'm sorry you never got to make the show/movie you really wanted to make. It's sad to me, though, that something that I loved—this wonderful lightening in a bottle that was these two characters together—was a frustrater to you. I hope you DO get to make the show you want now and I hope we all love it as much as we did the first time 'round. I just wish I'd taken the survivable amount of pain earlier, because this is pretty UNBEARABLE. And just so you know (even though the likelihood of you ever seeing this as I'm sure you have rarely, if ever, set foot in here and I'm not on social media is a Googleplex to 1), upon subsequent viewings, I will be stopping season 4 immediately after the joyous event and, when I start season 5, I'm pretending Logan's on assignment and that he and Veronica communicate telepathically. Thanks for bringing the show back. I know you were never going for "Hart to Hart", but a gal dreamed for it anyway.

Dear Fellow LoVe Shippers, I LOVE this fandom. I LOVE this couple. I know I rarely engage and if my writing this is upsetting because of that, apologies. I'm a nervous Nellie is all. But after this weekend, I needed a catharsis. No, I didn't just bang this story out. I've had it lingering on my computer for a long time and only completed it last month. Hence the preciousness I don't think I could have written right now. I hope that we continue on writing or creating in whatever way feels right / good. I intend to keep reading and I have at least two more stories in the works—one a multichapter that is AU after the movie and books. For us, Logan and Veronica can grow old together; they can have intimate moments in high school that never happened on the show. We can take what was just a glance into canon lives and expound, make it shine brighter and create a detail where there were only blurred edges. We can guess at a different reality and imagine that reality however we want to because obviously there are no rules. And, don't forget, there's, like, a whole five years between movies / books and this season that HAVE NO CANON as of yet. We can fill that for ourselves. Thank you to those of you who have already posted. No slight intended, but thank you especially to CMackenzie who has- all this time- been creating a (funnily enough) NOIR canon all by herself that is also human and wonderful and FILLED WITH a FULL FAMILY LIFE (how can it be?). Lady, your stories are my canon. Keep up the great work if you can. Again, I have enjoyed checking in on this site and others like it for a fix of our favorite couple as I think we all have. Let's not stop. We have power, too.