/How long before I get in?

Before it starts, before I begin?

How long before you decide?

Before I know what it feels like?

Where to, where do I go?

If you never try, then you'll never know

How long do I have to climb

Up on the side of this mountain of mine?\\

-"Speed of Sound", Coldplay

"What's different now?" Logan asked. They were watching one of the Hangover movies in the living room and throwing popcorn at each other.

"Different about what?"

"You. Me. Us. This," he waved his hand around and popped a few kernels in his mouth. "I just….we're exactly the same and completely different. You're here. And I guess I just…..I was wondering…..what changed, exactly?"

"Lots of things," she tucked her feet under her and turned more so that she was facing him instead of the television.

"I blamed you for everything, for a lot of years." Veronica knotted her hands as she spoke. She noticed a dropped-or thrown-piece of popcorn on the couch and picked it up, moving it from hand to hand. "And somewhere along the line, a little bit of me realized that it wasn't just you. And I always….there were times it would just hit me. A song on the radio or a guy in an orange shirt, something, and I'd get so mad at myself, mad at you. And then I'd push that away and tell myself that I was better off."

Logan was watching her carefully, silently. Veronica glanced up at him and then went back to staring at the popcorn.

"I think…..no I know. The only reason I really let Mac drag me to that reunion is because I was hoping that I'd see you. And then when I did…..I tried to tell myself that it didn't mean anything, or it wouldn't be anything, but that didn't work. Being with you again….."

Veronica wasn't going to tell him her first thought, which was that it was like being home. She ignored the voice in her head reminding her of the whole total honesty thing and sighed. "I haven't felt like this since the summer before Hearst," is what she finally said.

"Me either," Logan said quietly.

She gave him a small smile. "I don't wanna lose this. It's like…...fire between us. When we were in high school, your desire for me…..it was too much. I felt claustrophobic sometimes. I tolerate it now."

Logan groaned. "V'ronica," his voice was low as he leaned closer to her. He took his hand and brushed his fingers against her cheek. She leaned into his touch and Logan drug his fingers down her neck, across her shoulder and lightly caressed her breast. When she moaned quietly, he pulled his hand away. Her eyes sprang open and she looked at him, questioning.

"You don't tolerate it now, Veronica, you surrender to it."

He watched her face to see if she would freak out, run out of the room, start screaming at him.

Instead she hugged her knees to her chest and reached for her mug, took a sip of her coffee. It was cold. "I wanna ask you something. You don't have to answer it."

"We agreed on total honesty, remember? Ask me anything."

She stared at her hands for a minute. "When you were with other girls, was it—"

"No," Logan answered immediately. "I only have that with you."

"Before, with others…..with Duncan," she shook her head, sorry that she mentioned him, but Logan didn't seem to react so she went on. "It wasn't…..the same. And I thought maybe that I was the problem," she said quietly. She sipped her coffee again and Logan took it from her and took her hands in his.

"I love when you're like this."

She threw the popcorn she was still holding at him. "Embarrassed and self-conscious?"

"Vulnerable," he kissed her hands. "Honest, open."

Veronica almost said, "I can't blow this again," but thought better of it and instead said, "I want this to work between us."

"It is," he said quietly. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, absolutely." She stretched her legs out over Logan's lap and shook one of her hands free from his so she could run it through his short hair. "You wanna hear the thing that scares me the most?"

Logan knew what it was but he nodded anyway.

"In the past, I pushed you away, let you go, closed myself off from you, ran away, it was always me. Even when you ended things when we were at Hearst, it was really me. I always made the choice," she picked up one of the throw pillows and played with its tassel. "Now I'm terrified that something else will separate us."

Logan let out the breath he'd been holding. "That's always an option, Veronica."

"I know, and I don't want you to think I don't want you to do what you love and that I'm not extremely proud of you, because I do, and I am. I just wanted you to know that I'm scared."

He pulled her closer so that she was sitting on his lap, her arms around him and her face buried in his chest. "I'm not," he finally said. "I could be pretty careless for awhile. I've got that out of my system, I promise. Being separated for the next six months is going to suck. But when I wake up on that ship each day, I'll be one day closer to coming home to you. Having someone waiting for you…" he shrugged. "It changes things."

Veronica pushed all the images of Logan coming home to an empty house, no one waiting for him at the airport when he got off the plane, out of her head. She put her hands on his face and kissed him softly. "I love you," she whispered.

He grinned at her. "I know."

She rolled her eyes and pushed away from him. "Star Wars dork."

Why does time pass so quickly? Veronica didn't know where the last eleven days had gone. She was running out of time with Logan, and she was panicking.

He'd made plans for them to have dinner with Wallace and Shae that night. They were going out because, as Logan pointed out, they had only left his house when she or they were spending time with her dad.

"We need fresh air," he teased her.

"And food we haven't had delivered or microwaved?" she giggled.

"Hey, I cooked a couple times!"

"You cooked once. And made breakfast."

"It still counts. Wallace suggested Mexican for tonight." Logan was scrolling through his phone. "Sound good?"

"It does," Veronica came out of the bathroom in a red sundress that she'd bought while Logan and her dad went to a baseball game. Logan had suggested it as a bonding opportunity for the two of them and she'd figured it was a good time to get some clothing that wasn't leggings and tee shirts.

"Wow," Logan leaned against his closet door and stared at her.

"That bad, huh?"

"Where have you been hiding that dress and why didn't you put it on hours ago?"

"I was saving it for a special occasion."

"I understand," Logan walked over and ran his hands from her shoulders to her hands. "But now I have to wait until tonight to help you out of it."

"Anticipation…" Veronica teased. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

The last night before Logan deployed, Veronica wanted to cook for him but they had food delivered so they wouldn't waste valuable time chopping vegetables and doing dishes. While sharing an ice cream sundae for dessert, Veronica told Logan she had something important to tell him.

He looked like he was bracing himself. "Lay it on me."

"I am going back to New York in a few days," she began, and she could see him trying to hide his disappointment.

"I just have so much to do," she went on. "I have to pack, and I have to find someone to sublet my dive apartment, and I need to rent a U-haul and get a crate for Bob and-"

"Wait, what?" Logan put his spoon down. "Are you moving? Here? To Neptune?!"

"That all depends on if you want a roommate."

"I do," he said almost immediately.

"Good. I hope Bob likes you."

"Everyone likes me." he grinned.

"There's that Echolls modesty I fell in love with." the words were out before she could stop herself. She looked at Logan to see what his reaction would be.

He practically flew out of his chair and scooped her up in his arms.

"I love you too," he mumbled into her hair. Then he carried her, squealing, down into the bedroom.

"I got you something," it was five am and they were sitting on the back porch, watching the waves. Logan was dressed to leave and she was still wearing one of his shirts to sleep in, a hoodie of his pulled over it. She was leaning against him and turned around to see what he had.

"You didn't have to get me anything," she kissed him gently, slowly, knowing how dangerously close it was to being the last kiss for 180 days.

After two solid weeks of lying in his arms, kissing him, screaming at him, making love, it seemed like forever.

Six months, it was forever.

If a week was like a month, what did that make six months?!

Logan had said, more than once, that it was nothing compared to nine years. He was right, but it still felt monumental, devastating, catastrophic, because it was now.

"It's just something small," Logan pulled a small box from under the chaise lounger they were sitting on. "Open it."

Veronica tore into it like a child on Christmas morning. It was a small page-a-day calendar that had clearly been custom made. The top page was that day's date, with the number 180 on it, and an inspirational quote. Veronica paged through it and saw that each day had either a quote or a few song lyrics, and the days counted down until they would be reunited, the week before Thanksgiving.

Tears flooded her eyes as she nestled against his chest. Logan took that to mean that she loved it and kissed the top of her head.

"Sorry," she turned away from him and rubbed at her eyes with her left hand. Her right hand was still holding the calendar, so tightly that her hand was starting to hurt.

"Don't be sorry," Logan pulled her back against him and she thought he sounded like his voice might be breaking. "I'm sad too."

That only made her cry harder, and he was sorry he'd admitted it. He held her while she sobbed, realizing that there was nine years, maybe even twelve or sixteen years, of pent up frustration and hurt and anger in those tears.

"Okay, I'm done now," Veronica pulled back, rubbed her eyes furiously. She lifted Logan's wrist to check his watch. His cab would be there in twenty minutes. He wanted to take a cab and she was secretly relieved. She wasn't up for a public goodbye, especially with the way she'd been unable to control her crying like a teenager who didn't get to go to prom.

"You wrote the address down, right?" she blinked again, hoping she wouldn't start crying again. "So I can send you things?"

"Yes, it's on the fridge."

"You're sure? 'Cause I've asked you three times before and you-"

"It's on the fridge, I promise. You're flying out Thursday?" Logan wanted to distract her.

"Yeah, I get into JFK around seven Eastern time."

"I'll try to Skype around midnight your time, make sure you got in okay."

Veronica felt her tears threaten to return so she just nodded. She let him hold her for a few more minutes, and then she kissed him, hard, because it was the last kiss for six months.

"When I get home," Logan said when they were both out of breath. "I think we should decorate this place for Christmas."

"Before Thanksgiving?" Veronica said incredulously.

Logan nodded. "I think it should be a tradition. Buy everything before it goes on sale and just light this place up like an amusement park."

At his use of the word "tradition", Veronica felt a lot of things. Happiness, excitement, hope, love.

Old!Veronica! would've been afraid. Old!Veronica! would've run for the hills.

This Veronica was different. She'd made up her mind that first night, well morning really, here with Logan that she had run for long enough, ran from him for too many years. He was a different person than the guy she'd run from, and so was she. And this Veronica wanted to make it work.

"We should hang some lights on some of the rocks," she suggested. "Like a crazy tree type of thing."

"Flashing lights," Logan said. "Maybe color changing?"

They were still planning their holiday decorations when the cab honked its arrival. Veronica followed Logan inside, watched him grab his bag, check to make sure he had everything. She kissed him and told him, just barely above a whisper, that she loved him.

Then she stood in the doorway and watched him do the leaving this time. She was still standing there long after the cab pulled away.