Summary: Logan thinks Veronica needs closure. Veronica doesn't.
Dedication: vylentcrymz, who requested LoVe centered around, "Snark, Heat, X-Terra, Jackass, Kiss."
Disclaimer: Veronica Mars was created by Rob Thomas and is owned by The CW. The author does not claim any rights over the material.
“I’ll take that.” Logan smiled sweetly and tugged on the strap of Veronica’s messenger bag.
“I can carry my own bag, Logan.” She took a step toward his car but he hadn’t let go of the strap. Sighing, she let him pull the bag away from her. “Why?”
“Because I’m your boyfriend and I’m taking you to class. I’m supposed to carry your books, right?” He put the strap over his own shoulder and bit his lower lip worriedly. “Tell me honestly. Does it clash with the outfit?”
Veronica rolled her eyes but slipped her hand into his while they walked to the car. “It’s not class, it’s Freshman Orientation. I don’t even have any books.”
“But you have a bag.” He opened her door for her and threw the bag into the backseat. “Probably filled with all the proper tools of a scholar.”
“Whereas you have…” Veronica gave him a very careful once-over before she got in the car. “Nothing.”
“Ouch, Mars.” Logan put his hand over his heart and shut her door. “Ouch.”
She leaned her head out of the open window to press a kiss against his lips. “I call it like I see it. Now suck it up and drive.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward and jogged around to the driver’s side. “I don’t know why I put up with this abuse,” he said as he slid the key into the ignition.
“Because I’m just too cute to resist?” Veronica guessed.
“Something like that.” He shook his head, laughing, and pulled out of her apartment complex’s parking lot.
There was a comfortable silence for the first few minutes of the drive. Logan waited until they hit a red light to break it, sucking in a breath and glancing between her and the stoplight.
“So,” he started, and she looked at him expectantly. “Um, Cassidy’s memorial service is this Friday.”
No one called him Beaver anymore.
“A memorial service,” Veronica repeated, bitter and sad. She looked out the window again.
The light turned green but it took an angry honk from the car behind them for Logan to press down on the gas again. His foot came down too hard and the car jerked forward into the intersection.
“Yeah.” Logan nodded. “The Casablancas family already had their private funeral. This is, you know, a little thing. For anyone else.”
“Yeah? For who? Gia, so she can say goodbye to the guy that killed her dad?” Veronica gave a short, bitter laugh. “The parents of the bus crash victims? Mac? Me?”
“I’m just saying, Veronica.” He kept his voice low and his eyes on the road. “It could be… helpful. You might get some closure.”
“I don’t need closure,” she said. She folded her arms across her chest. “I need to know that he’s burning in hell.”
There wasn’t much he could say to that, so Logan didn’t say anything. Her arm was resting on the center console but she pulled her hand away when he tried to hold it.
It was silent while he merged onto the freeway, cutting off a minivan when he cut across two lanes. Logan turned the radio on, then off again, and tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel.
“This car is really ugly.”
Caught off guard, Logan laughed and looked at her for a second. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I’ve always meant to say something but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Veronica sighed and shrugged. “I’ll just come out with it: I hate this car.”
He knew she was changing the subject on purpose and went along with her anyway. There was no easy way to win an argument with Veronica Mars.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it offended you so much.”
“Who buys yellow cars?” Veronica shook her head. “Jackasses do. You’re announcing to the world: I am a jackass.”
“Am I supposed to see a problem with that?”
“Clearly not.” She put her elbow on the center console and he took her hand. They shared a smirk.
Hearst came into view a few minutes later, the campus quiet and pristine. He found parking near the main entrance where the rest of the freshman class was beginning to arrive and head toward the auditorium. Veronica reached for her bag and got out of the car, trying very hard not to picture Stanford’s campus in Hearst’s place.
“So what can we expect today?” Logan glanced at the school, already looking bored and disinterested. “Singing the Fight Song and listening to a speech from the Dean about what bright futures we have before us?”
“Can you handle that much fun in one day?” Veronica took a deep breath. “Might as well get it over with.”
“Hey, wait.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer before she made it two steps closer to the school. As soon as she turned her face toward his he was kissing her, deepening the kiss, arms wrapped around her.
“Orientation isn’t mandatory, you know,” he breathed.
“Hmm. True.” She put her hand against his cheek and kissed him slowly. “But then all of my scholarly tools would go to waste.”
Shoving her bag into his arms, she pulled him away from the car. He sighed, resigned, and fell into step beside her.
Logan laced their fingers together and leaned in so his breath passed over her neck. “Veronica. At least think about going to the service.”
“Okay.” She tapped her temple with her pointer finger and scrunched up her face in concentration. “Done! Nope, not going.”
Logan gave her a look and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing out slowly.
Veronica pursed her lips. Her gaze hardened. “I make my own closure.”