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Picture it. Camelot Motel, terrified young girl is being dragged against her will up a flight of rickety stairs by an undercover ATF agent who she isn’t actually aware is an undercover ATF agent, and she in fact suspects is a high school terrorist about to blow up the her school. A boy, former enemy, now ally, pauses action with sudden appearance on the balcony, and surprises kidnapper with a punch to the face.

The three collect themselves and move into the agent’s hotel room; agent demands to be left alone with girl, claiming that he has “business” to discuss with her, but boy – former enemy – looks between girl and ATF agent with a practiced, worried stare as he touches the hand he used to deck the other man. He pauses and looks at girl.

“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” he says, and she assures him that it’s okay, and he considers this, decides to trust her – but asks her to leave the door open because he doesn’t trust him.

And when it’s all over, girl kisses boy – and before she can leave, boy kisses girl back, and that’s it, all of a sudden. Got the picture?

That’s it, anyway.

Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 202
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Dear Wallace -

I'm sorry. Really. I'm sorry about what happened that you saw what you saw at Homecoming, and I'm sorry if I've been a little self-absorbed for a while since the bus crash since you met me lately. Still, my ego-centrism could never compare to Jackie's unbelievable narcissism, so I find it hard to believe that that was ever the real issue. Mostly I'm just sorry. I should have been there for you when it counted though if my attention was elsewhere it was your girlfriend's fault and I really screwed things up. I know that.

If I could do things differently, I would. Probably. But I learned a long time ago that you can't change the past ,and even if you could, it probably wouldn't be worth it it would just turn out badly. The most you I can do is resolve to change - to try and be the kind of friend that you deserve. After all, you've provided one heck of a good example. It'll be tough to live up to.

Of course, I could probably do an excellent job of running away to Chicago, but it's probably best if I don't mention that.

Let this letter serve as proof that I'm not as thick as history might suggest. Tack it to a bulletin board, make copies, run it in the Neptune Navigator, send a copy to Sheriff Lamb and gloat about how Veronica Mars was wrong about something - on second thought, don't do that last one - just please, please don't run away again. Neptune's just not the same without you.

Still BFFs?



P.S. I was just kidding about that Navigator stuff, too. Please don't do that, either.

P.P.S. I hope you liked the cookies. Please let me know if you'd like another variety of cookie; also, if you'd ever like me to stop sucking up, ever.

Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 316
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I don’t want to answer this question. At all. I don’t like the connotations associated with it, and I’d happily defer--for the second week in a row, mind you--my answer over to Logan. Unfortunately, however (and I believe this is a first), Logan is playing the playing the silent card. Frankly, I’m surprised he can hold the expletives down.

And for once I can empathize.

Karma was all well and good when I was young and idealistic, when my best friend hadn’t been murdered senselessly, when the rest of my friends hadn’t turned their collective backs on me, and when my mom hadn’t decided to turn into a boozehound, jump on the bandwagon, and bail on me and my dad.

When all the pieces of my life still fit together neatly, then yes, I was a believer. What better explanation was there? If I was the perfect daughter to my parents, the perfect best friend to Lilly, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend to Duncan, then why, logically, would it not follow that life would, in fact, be perfect?

It’s karma after all. Good begets good. What goes around comes around.

I can’t believe that anymore. I can’t credit the cosmos with Lilly’s demise when I know what happened between her and Aaron Echolls. I saw the videos. “Fun With Lilly.” Now there was an understatement.

The problem with karma lies with the fact that it’s not individual to each person. I might’ve been a good girl, but acting nice isn’t what earns you a charmed life. Lilly would be pleased to know I’ve finally absorbed this life lesson.

I just wish I could’ve gotten that some other way--some way that didn’t involve happening upon my best friend’s corpse, but we all have our problems.

I can just hear you now. “Don’t you know any stories that don’t involve ‘and then I happened upon my best friend’s corpse, Veronica?’” The answer to that is yes, but we’ll get to that some other time. You know, when we’re not busy discussing karma.

I don’t know why I’m still talking about karma. After everything that’s happened over the past couple of years, I think I’m about due for things to start turning around. See, if karma existed, my normal plan would be right on track.

But it doesn’t, it’s not, and I’m back where I was last year--sort of--in the middle of a mystery, trying to figure out who wants me dead. And why. Karma? No thanks. I have a tough enough time dealing with reality here in Neptune.
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cut for spoilers, not for length )
veronica_mars: (Default)
Instructions: List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your Livejournal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

1. The Change - Jon Dee Graham
2. Erase/Rewind - The Cardigans
3. Long Time Coming - Delays
4. Streaks in the Sky - Thursday
5. Three Marlenas - Wallflowers
6. Heavy Things - Phish
7. Chelsea Morning - Joni Mitchell

This tagging thing? No pressure.
veronica_mars: (Default)
Dear Younger Self (why yes, I do find the entire notion of writing a letter to myself as a child completely idiotic, why do you ask?),

You are very young and very naive - trust me when I say that you can’t possibly know what you’re in for. However, if there’s one thing that Back to the Future has taught me, it’s this: messing with history by providing information about the future to your historical self is bad news. Also that making out with someone you’re related to just feels intrinsically wrong, even if you’re totally unaware of your shared DNA. Let’s face it. There’s a lot to be learned from Back to the Future.

But let’s forget all of it, because it’s not like the present is anything to get excited about and besides - if writing this letter to Veronica 1.0 could change the future, then I probably wouldn’t be writing this letter, and that’s really too complicated to be thinking about. Anyway, how much could a few cryptic warnings possibly hurt?

First of all, Duncan Kane is not your brother. I know, I know. You didn’t need a note from someone claiming to be the future incarnation of you to tell you that, because of course Duncan Kane isn’t your brother. Trust me, it will matter later. Jake Kane is many things, but your father is not one of them.

He’s also not a murderer. Just FYI.

Other Neptune residents who aren’t, as far as I know, murderers, include: pretty much everybody in Neptune who isn’t Aaron Echolls, though the jury is still out on Weevil and his boys. It’s not like they’re above it or anything, they just really, really suck at it - as evidenced by the fact that Logan is still walking, talking, and generally being a jackass.

Which is - don’t get me wrong - a good thing. And maybe I shouldn’t be mentioning this, but a lot’s going to happen between you and Logan. Yes, Veronica. You and Duncan will break up. It all ties into that “Duncan Kane is not your brother” thing I was telling you about.

This, I’m sure, is piquing your curiosity. How, you are wondering, could I possibly date my boyfriend’s best friend? How could I date my best friend’s boyfriend?

Well, it’s complicated. I’ll leave it at that, lest I wreck your future entirely, because I know you. You’ll receive this letter with all the lurid details and you’ll go out of your way to change it all. The past couple of years may have been hell, but I’m guessing that recapturing my innocence would involve sacrifice. I liked what I had with Logan and I wouldn’t give up Wallace for anything.

Who’s Wallace? Trust me, you’ll love him.

Oh, there’s a warning for you, complete with flashing lights and sirens. Be a better friend to Wallace. Remember - BFF goes both ways.

Things are going to be hard, Veronica, I can’t possibly lie to you. Things are going to get a lot darker before - well, suffice it to say, they’re going to get a lot darker.

But don’t worry, you’re stronger than you look. You’ll make it through.

Say hi to Lilly for me.


Veronica Mars

P.S. Do us both a favor and don’t go to Shelly Pomroy’s End of the Year party, okay?
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To say that I didn’t expect Logan to show up that day at the Camelot would be an understatement. I mean, sure I gave him the hints and sure we were mending fences, building bridges, or doing whatever it is that ex-friends do once the ex-factor no longer applies, but I never figured Logan to be the knight in shining armor type. He sure proved me wrong, dashing to my rescue and saving the day. Then I kissed him – and he kissed me – and it all went to hell.

I shouldn’t say “hell” like it’s a bad thing because please, give Logan a little bit of credit. “Heaven” is a far more apt description, but mostly? It felt like reality was slipping out of my grasp and I had to cling to Logan just to stay grounded.

And I must admit, there are far worse things to hold onto. Still. That doesn’t make it any less dangerous.

You see, when your life is as complicated as mine is, filled to the brim with AP classes and cases to solve, then the last thing you need is to be making out with your dead best friend’s ex-boyfriend on the balcony of a sleazy motel. Your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. My life would make the best trashy romance novel.

Or maybe not. Even the campiest Harlequin gets its happy ending and all I have are uneven and frayed edges – things need to unravel more before I can tie it all back together. Frustrating? You betcha. No more frustrating, however, than carrying on a secret love affair with the boy long-established as my archenemy.

What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment. Whenever Logan and I weren’t attached at the lips, I was busy feeling guilty about driving Duncan out of the country, about keeping Logan secret from everybody, about getting a B on my Euro test. The smart thing would’ve been to let go, but I pulled him closer.

After all, things aren’t wrong until they stop feeling right, right? Right.


To say that I loved every second spend in his vicinity would be an exaggeration, because there were difficult times. The murder accusations, the night he showed up at my apartment looking like he’d just been beaten half to death by a group of bikers. My similes were particularly on that evening and things weren’t good, or okay, or – they were spiraling violently out of control, in fact, but I didn’t realize it.

When the impact of the situation finally caught up with me, when I finally saw the whole picture for what it was, that’s when I tried to take it all back. I broke up with Logan, settled into a comfortable relationship with my familiar and safe ex-boyfriend, and things started to get back to normal.

Veronica vs. Logan. Not that way I’d have wagered after everything we’d gone through, but infinitely familiar. Comfortable but not too close.

It’s funny how one kiss can change your life so drastically. Maybe it’s tragic. But it’s nice to be back in the driver’s seat, even if I’m driving alone.

Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 509
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As the standard grist for the Neptune High School gossip mill, I make it a point to keep my weaknesses hidden - or at least generally camouflaged. After all, the last thing I need is to give my 09’er “friends” more ammunition - they’d love to see me gone. But in this case, I might as well admit it. Gather ‘round, pirates, because you’re about to get the dish.

I hardly ever relax.

I know. It’s not exactly the Zimmerman note, but you’ve all been here - and if you haven’t, you’ve certainly caught the coverage on CNN. A bus full of high school students goes off a cliff, pretty much everybody loses a friend... add to the tragedy the fact that I was supposed to be on that bus and I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from.

Especially now that I’ve realised that everything - all of it - was meant for me. I should have been on that bus and not just because of that stupid field trip. Meg in her coma, everybody else in their - not that I want to elaborate, but all of it was because somebody wants me dead. Again.

It makes it difficult to just kick back and enjoy life, knowing that people have died because Aaron Echolls wants to kill me. Might I add, once more for emphasis, again?

I don’t know how Logan and I did it last summer. Maybe it was because we had each other - or maybe we were just lucky. With Duncan, the only viable means of comfort is still tainted by the past eighteen months, though I don’t expect either of us to admit it. Frankly, I don’t know how any of us make it through. You’d think the tension would be enough to make us shatter, but somehow we’re all still whole.

Physically, at least. I can’t vouch for the mental state of any one of us - and maybe that’s best.

So, as far as relaxing? I don’t. I can’t. I’m always on guard, always ready - so take that as a warning.
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Everything - and that should hardly surprise you. After all, my dad’s a PI and I’ve gotten myself something of a reputation in the past year and a half - you’re not safe until you know it all. And even then, the odds are stacked against you once you decide to let someone in.

The trick is to know so much that you can hurt them more than they can hurt you - once you hold the cards, it’s harder for them to walk away. Maybe if I’d embraced this philosophy or maybe if Dad had been a little bit more cynical during my tender, early-teenage years, I could have saved myself a little bit of hearbreak when Duncan broke up with me.

Of course, you can never know everything - not entirely. Emotions, feelings, thoughts - people can lock these up inside, keep them private. Everybody deserves that, it’s part of being human. Still, it’d be nice to have access - to know what they’re thinking. Does Logan care about me? Does Duncan? Why did my mother abandon me? What does my father do with that mystery bag on Tuesday and Thursday nights?

I wish my PI database expanded to that sort of information. Type in my user ID and twelve-character passcode and voila! Instant insight. Of course, this information wouldn’t be for the weak of will - or heart, and I’m not sure how strong I’d really be if I had all of this information.

Still. It’d be something, wouldn’t it?

Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 250
veronica_mars: (Default)
Have you ever betrayed someone's confidence? )

cut for spoilers.
Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count:438
veronica_mars: (Default)
For all that you read in the newspapers about dead heiresses and the movie stars that murder them, Neptune, California is actually a decent place to raise children. At least, I seem to have turned out all right -- or I would have turned out fine if not for the dead heiress and the movie star that killed her. Really, though.

Neptune’s got pretty much everything a person could ever hope for in a town -- an excellent school system, a practically non-existent unemployment rate (ask anybody from the right side of town -- being rich is work) and beach access for anybody who isn’t allergic to salt, sea, sand or sun.

Admittedly the night life leaves a little bit to be desired, but it is, after all, we’re talking about a decent place to raise children. Of course that’s discounting the prerequisite seedy motel for late night trysts, a favorite of philandering rich people who don’t realize that the Camelot is the first place that private investigators (namely me) look, and an innumerable amount of trashy bars that accept fake IDs indiscriminately -- so maybe I’m wrong about there not being anything to do in Neptune at night.

Still, it’s not as bad as it could be, and did I mention the excellent school system? As long as you remain on the good side of Vice Principal Clemmons you’re golden, though if you don’t (and I can hardly blame you), I recommend blackmail.

Especially if you aren’t one of the few -- the proud -- the 09ers. Their zip code defines their very existence, and it makes sense. Anything other than 90909 and you’re practically grazing the poverty line. Neptune is sorely lacking in a middle class.

Ah, Neptune. It’s far from perfect but I suppose that there are worse places to call home, right?
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I was never supposed to be beloved by all of Neptune; the aptness with which I took to my outcast role made that abundantly clear to everybody. Freaks, geeks, and 09ers alike knew. Stay away from that Veronica Mars, she’s trouble. She’ll give you syphilis that no penicillin can cure.

It wasn’t always like this, of course. Back when Lilly was alive, I sat at their lunch table and ate their pizza and Chinese food and quesadillas. I was best friends with their crown princess and dating their prince, and it was nice to feel untouchable.

Well. In retrospect, anyway. It’s not like I’m harboring any particular longing for the past, because I certainly hope that I’ve grown as a person -- but the transition from 09er to that Veronica Mars, italics implied -- was swift and harsh. Lilly died and things changed.

I lost my best friend. My boyfriend wouldn’t speak to me. Her boyfriend wouldn’t speak to me. I was alone for the first time, and like I said -- I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve gotten good at it. But while some adjustments are easy, sometimes you’d just like a little warning before your entire world gets turned upside down.

I don’t miss the 09ers. I miss Lilly. I miss Duncan and Logan. I miss the fabulous foursome and the fun and the excitement that accompanied our every move. We’ve all changed, though, and things will never be the same.

I just wish the road were a little bit smoother, and really. Is that so very much to ask?

Of course it is. We’re in Neptune, after all, and people like me don’t catch those kinds of breaks.
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"And in breaking news, we've gotten word that heiress to the Kane fortune, Lillian Kane, was found atop the Coronado Bridge only minutes ago. She was talked down from her precarious perch by Neptune Sheriff, Keith Mars and is now being taken to Neptune General Hospital. Authorities refuse to state whether or not drug use might have been a cause of this, and Mars is declining any comment. More on this situation as it develops."

I pull my car into the driveway and turn off the ignition with shaky hands; Lilly tried to -- Lilly was on the Coronado Bridge and my dad saved her. Well. Lilly's always had a penchant for the overdramatic, but somehow I don't think that even she'd do this sort of thing unless she was really a lot more upset than I'd given her credit for. Maybe her tears weren't fake. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she hadn't been sleeping with Weevil and had really just been waiting to see what I would do.

Right. And maybe this is just another bad dream.

I collect my bag and phone from the passenger seat and duck out of the car. As I approach the front door of my house, I can hear shouting; my dad's voice, and then my mother's. I wince inwardly and toy with the idea of not going inside at all; the story of the hero who saved my best friend who told him absolutely everything, I'm sure -- NPR hadn't given me any information except for the basics, bridge, Lilly, Dad, Hospital -- but I knew she'd never come down off that bridge without making sure that my father knew exactly why she was there.

Which explains the shouting.

As I open the door, I catch my mother's eye. Dad isn't facing me, but she is and she looks terrified; she looks, I think, the way that I must have looked when Lilly made her presence known this afternoon. And I know it, I know that Lilly hasn't been lying to me. We really are sisters, and it's the biggest mistake that my mother ever made in her life. "How could you be so selfish, Lianne?"

I've never heard him like this, furious and hurt and about to fall into pieces all at the same time. My dad's always been stoic. Sheriff. He's always been my dad. I close the door behind me quietly and I step into the room. "Yeah, mom," I echo, leaning against the wall for support. My knees feel weak. "How could you?"

There are tears streaming down her cheeks all of a sudden, and she tries to put on a brave face. "I didn't," she sobs, and she seems so much like Lilly that I find it hard to wonder if she's maybe not Lilly's mother, too. Maybe we're full sisters, real life sisters. "Veronica is your daughter."

To my surprise, and my mother's, my father nods firmly. Once. "Yeah, I know." He turns away from her and walks over to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug. "Are you okay, honey? Did you hear about --"

"I heard it on the radio. Is she okay?" Dad nods again and takes a step back from me. He has a grim smile on my face and this is it, I think, this is when he's going to tell me everything that Lilly said about me. And he's going to ask me if it's true. And it will be true, but she'll have said it in such away that it all seems like my fault.

But he doesn't ask me anything. "She's a little bit shaken up. They took her to the hospital for evaluation, they'll probably keep her for a day or two."

He turns back to my mother, who by this point has stopped crying and is really almost smiling. Like a plan that's unfolded perfectly, like a lie that's gone off without a hitch; nobody told my mother that today is not the day for smooth sailing. My dad keeps his arm around me as he continues talking, but all the tenderness has gone out of his voice. "You need to leave, Lianne. Right now. Because if I have to leave and take Veronica with me, things will be a lot worse."

I glance at my dad with thinly veiled surprise, which is nothing compared to the look that has crossed my mother's features. Shock. Fear. "And just where do you expect me to go," she is asking, but he shrugs. "You can't just keep me from my daughter, Keith."

I look at her incredulously. This is all her fault, and now she's trying to use me as her ace? I don't think that my eyes could be open any wider. "He doesn't have to," I answer, shrugging out of dad's grip and stalking off toward my bedroom. The arguing begins again, in quieter tones this time, and I don't doubt that it's about me. My behavior. My parentage. My friends.

I pull off my shirt as I walk into my bedroom. I need to go to the hospital, but I need to change first. I'm ready to face the consequences of my actions, but I need to start fresh and I need to do it right this second. Even my jeans -- I change from one nondescript pair into another, and I glance into the mirror before I turn back toward the door. I'm fine. I'm ready for this.

I'm ready to deal with Duncan and Jake and Logan and Lilly all at the same time. I ignore my parents as I walk back through the living room and slam the door behind me and I hurry to my car. I turn off the radio before I can hear anything else, and instead I replay the events of the day in my head. I think the radio might have been safer.

Dreams. Lilly. Weevil and Lilly, Logan and me, Duncan -- oh God, Duncan. Who will not be okay with any of this, and I can hardly blame him. He's the only innocent person in this situation, and even he's not all that innocent. My father, my mother, my real father -- though which one is real and which one is fake is entirely up for debate. Keith raised me. Keith loves me. Genetics mean nothing.

No matter what Lilly tries to claim. I make my way into the hospital and up to her floor; I know where she'll be. It's the only private floor of the hospital, the one sanctioned by 09'ers for plastic surgery recovery and suicide attempts. The bonuses of living in a small town where your dad is the sheriff are numberless, really. As I step off the elevator, I see Jake Kane and I cross my arms defiantly. I don't see Logan, yet. I wonder if he should be called.

I walk over to Jake. "Where's Lilly?" I ask, and my voice is trembling. He sighs.

"Veronica, maybe this isn't the best time."

"Where is she?" I demand again. He looks at me stonily.

"You can stay in the waiting room," he replies and there's no way that we're related. He's too cold. Just like his daughter. Just like his son. I wonder where Celeste is, and dial Logan's number.


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It turns out that answers are overrated when they come at the price of one father's near-demise in a heroic effort to save his only daughter, one current(?) boyfriend's complete loss of confidence in girlfriend as a direct result of girlfriend's loss of confidence in boyfriend, and one former-boyfriend-slash-almost-brother's sanity, which is already hanging by a thread. Throw in a near death experience at the hands of the more current boyfriend's psychotic-actor-father, and you'd be amazed at how quickly you find yourself longing for the blissful ignorance of "Abel Koontz did it."

Funny that all these things can happen within a twenty-four hour period and it's still impossible to get a decent night's sleep. Between the dreams (Lilly, Lillies, Me) and the knocking, and the tossing and the turning, my blankets are lying in a rumbled heap at the foot of my bed and my pillows are a lumpy mess a few feet a way. Even after I open my eyes the knocking continues, and it eventually occurs to me that somebody's at the door. It's still dark, so I can't imagine who it might be -- but it's no use pretending that I'm surprised.

After what happened today with Mr. Echolls (and even that failed to properly shock me, though it did a stellar job of scaring me to my almost-death) there are very few things that are going to provide a jolt to my system -- least of all a middle of the night visitor on easily the most traumatic evening of my life.

I grab a sweatshirt from the back of my chair and slip it over my head to cover the bruises on my arms and shoulders. Even if it's Wallace (it's probably Wallace) I don't feel like showing off my battle scars. Not yet. I'd rather wait for them to fade.

As I walk into the hallway, Backup trots to stand beside my ankles. I pause and glance down at him, surprised that he started barking yet. "I'll let you off this time, but characteristically, you're supposed to be making some noise." He looks at me disdainfully and presses his wet nose into my palm. There's another rap at the door and Backup growls; I shake my head and smile. "Good dog."

He keeps pace with me as I approach the doorway and I open the door without peeking through the curtains. And there, standing in front of me, is Logan Echolls. Boyfriend or ex-thereof, and I can't help the warmth that spreads through me. "I hoped it was you," I say, and I realize that it's true. I hoped it was him.
veronica_mars: (she's a marshmallow)
He talks in his sleep and I'm not surprised. He says my name and pulls me closer and I shouldn't feel so comfortable, but I've already called my Dad and he's annoyed that I woke him up, but glad that I'm being the responsible daughter. If he only knew, I don't know whether he'd be happy that Logan and I are friends again or appalled at what kind of friends we seem to be.

I wonder if we'll still be friends when Logan wakes up and finds me here. He asked me to stay, but it was my idea to come over, and even if it wasn't, I was the sober one. Mine was the decent judgment.

I sigh and glance at the alarm clock over Logan's shoulder. It's two in the afternoon and I'm still drowning in exhaustion and his breathing is still steady like he isn't going to wake up any time soon. I'm content to watch him sleep and I wonder what's going on behind his eyelids, wonder who he's dreaming about and if it's me. Or if it's a dream of a ghost who will probably be haunting us until the end of our days.

Or until I find the truth.

I miss Lilly so much and it feels like I'm losing her, but not because she's ready to leave me; I'm forcing her out to make room for Logan, because when I kiss him I feel that Lilly-shaped hole inside of me fill up. I don't feel empty, or numb, and God I love that.

He makes me laugh, and that's new. He makes me happy instead of happier than the alternative, and that's new, and sweet, and warm, and real. And I don't know how he feels and I don't care as long as he doesn't wake up and look into my eyes and look disappointed, like he feels me and looks for Lilly.

I can see the light streaming over his face through the cracks in his curtains and he looks so full of peace that I can smile and move closer to him and close my eyes and kiss him softly and wait for him to wake up. With me.
veronica_mars: (Default)
Title: falling backward
Author: ashley
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, hints of Leo/Veronica

Word Count: 1124
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Veronica has business to take care of.
Author's Note: Thanks for all the positive feedback! By the way, in case I hadn't mentioned it? I don't own these characters. Though I would totally love to.
Part 2 of ?
Continued from here

Spoilers: Episode 1.18, “Weapons of Class Destruction”

Some people made mistakes and some people kissed Logan Echolls )
veronica_mars: (Default)
Title: falling backward
Author: ashley
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica

Word Count: 744
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Veronica exits the scene, Logan muses.

Spoilers: Episode 1.18, “Weapons of Class Destruction”

Author's Note: Work in Progress. Unbetaed, first attempt at VM fic. Feel free to abuse/offer criticism.

He told himself that she wasn't really running away )
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