AN: Hey, guys! I was studying for my AP exams, and I thought this would be more productive! Heh. I know, it's yet ANOTHER post-2.20 fic. But, hey. I need a distraction from worrying about tonight's episode. I feel that whatever way it goes, for or against LoVe, will determine the way the series goes, for a time anyway. So, yeah. I wrote a fic! It was kinda inspired by "Break My Heart" by Hilary Duff. Don't judge me. And I know, I was supposed to write more of my other stories, but this popped into my head, and I just had to write it.

Spoilers: 2.20

Veronica quickened her pace instinctively. She had no idea had she knew it was Logan behind her, but considering she'd spent the past five days avoiding him, she figured it had to do with all the near misses. Apparently, her good luck was at an end, because Weevil probably really wasn't in the mood to stop Logan from pursuing her, and considering he had nearly a foot on her, she didn't see how outrunning him would be an option. The sad part is, she thought with a tiny sigh, is that I am SO CLOSE to my car. She tried to add even more speed , practically hurtling across the school parking lot, but she knew, in the end, it wouldn't do any good.

Her guess proved correct when Logan practically leapt out of nowhere and planted himself firmly in front of her. His eyes still had that confused-"oh shit I screwed up" look in them that they'd sported that wonderful, and memorable Saturday morning, only now there was a lot more confusion and a little bit of annoyance added to the mix.

After standing there for a few seconds, the only thing that Logan seemed to be able to come up to say was a rather strangled, "Veronica."

Well that was just that. Veronica Mars was not a girl to run, and that was all she'd been doing all week. This was the guy who took a good kick to her chest. She was hurt, sure, but she was pissed off, too. And the least she'd expected was some kind of apology or something. But here he was, gaping like an idiot, completely speechless. Logan might be out of words, but she sure as hell wasn't.

"Wow. That was touching. Moving, really. I might just start crying. Oh, wait!" She titled her head and smiled a brilliantly fake smile. "I already did that."

Logan didn't seem to be able to process this. "Veronica, I ..."

"What? Is it choice A, screwed up? Choice B, screwed Kendall? Choice C, drink yourself into oblivion? Choice D, destroyed any and all chance that you ever had with me? Or choice E, all of the above." She waited for a moment, pretending to ponder it over. Then she snapped her fingers and exclaimed in an overly-cheerful voice, "I've got it!"

"I know I screwed up, ok?" Logan began.

"And they say old dogs can't learn new tricks," Veronica deadpanned. "Oh, wait. You didn't learn a new trick. You'd already learned 'fetch the bimbo.'" She glared up at him fiercely, letting the cheerful facade drop, though trying to keep pure anger, without any hurt, show on her face. "I thought you said you weren't into bimbos anymore."

Logan's eyes flickered with a spark of battle-light. "I can't remember anything I said that night. You know that." What she said finally caught up with his brain. "I said what about bimbos?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know you don't remember. I get it, you were plastered," she told him bitterly. "Again. Kinda like you were that night. You know. The one when Felix died?"

It was a low blow, and she almost felt sorry for taking it from the look on his face. Almost, of course. She'd used up feeling bad for him last week.

The look of hurt was chased away in a second by anger. "Let's talk about old tricks for a moment, shall we? You're really perfecting that one of running away, huh? Ran from me at the dance, at the hotel, and let's not forget," he added, shaking his finger at her in mock scolding, "all those absolutely enjoyable chats I had with your dad because you wouldn't answer the damn phone."

She swatted down his hand and put her own finger in his face, her anger keeping her from realizing how ridiculous she must look right now. "Running away is the only way I can protect myself from you," she told Logan, poking him in the chest. Hard. "You tell me you love me," poke, "get plastered," harder poke, "call KENDALL, of all people," damn hard poke, "and then just let her hang all over you like that when you heard what I had just said!" She shoved a little at that point. She hadn't been this mad in a while, and it was refreshing in a way. With all the confusion over the bus crash, VD, and everything else, it was nice to know where she stood on an issue. And that was seriously P.O.ed.

Logan looked entirely dazed, and completely ignored the fact that he was being beat by a blonde that barely came up to his shoulder. "I told you I loved you?"

It was at that moment Veronica realized that she and Logan were being watched, however subtly the watchers were trying to be about it. "Not exactly," she admitted, feeling like an idiot.

Logan's eyebrows dived together. "Then why did you ..."

Comprehension began to dawn in his face, and she decided that it was time to make her exit. She turned to pound a hasty retreat, but Logan grabbed the strap of her messenger bag. She took a deep breath, then turned back around, ready for battle. She titled her head, her eyes narrowed and her expression hard. "Aren't we done here? Or is there something else you need to add? Because I'm sure Kendall would be more interested," she added, in what she had to admit was a jealous tone. It was petty, but she needed to get out of there, now. Something in her was telling her, just as it always did, to run like hell. And this time, she was listening. She was running off, and she was staying away. She plowed ahead recklessly. "Or should I say Priscilla? Did you know your bimbo wasn't even the bimbo she pretended to be? Or were you too busy humping her to pay attention?"

Logan, however, had a smirk that was as bright the sun, didn't seem to hear a word of it. "Why'd you say I told you I loved you?"

One thing you could say of Logan Echolls: once he got a hold of something, there was no letting go. Not his friends, not his idiotic behavior, and apparently not embarrassing slip-of-the-tongues that Veronica Mars may or may not have had that may or may not reveal how she felt about him.

Veronica wished to God she had a knife on her so she could cut her messenger bag strap now. She was about to be emotionally outed in front of half the student body. Fun, right? Since she had nothing, she was going to have to bluff. This might work, considering her next best talent, after running, was bluffing. So she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "It seemed implied. I never said I felt the same."

Some of the people in the growing crowd, who had given up the pretense of not paying attention, let out catcalls of appreciation. She could hear Wallace's voice among them, and was pretty sure that another was Weevil's. She wished they wouldn't. She just didn't want to stay here, that was all. She didn't want to hurt Logan that badly in front of the whole school. She wanted to hate him enough to want to hurt him like that, but she just couldn't.

It didn't matter, though. Logan kept right on smirking. "Wanna try that answer again?" he asked her, stepping closer with self-confidence. She hated him a little more for that. He had screwed up. He shouldn't have any hope of being with her ever again.

She should've remembered that if anyone was going to see right through her bluff, it would be Logan. Damn him.

She had one last out, and she was working it for all it was worth. "Can we do this somewhere else?" she asked quietly, scanning her eyes over her peers. She didn't actually care what they thought, of course, but if they started leaving, maybe she could slip away.

Logan, unfortunately, had not turned stupid in the past two minutes. "Or we could stay right were we are so you won't go haring off again." His eyes were starting to beg her, no matter how confident his countenance. He looked so hopeful that her defenses suddenly dropped. Because she wanted him. She just didn't think she could deal with what he did.

A tear swam to her eye, and she brushed it away fiercely. She met his eyes to see him looking torn between the hope and new worry. "Veronica ..."

"Can't you just let me go?" she asked sadly. She hated to show even this much emotion in front of him, but she had to get out of there. Every part of her, every atom in her body, screamed, shrieked, exploded that she had to get out of there now.

He looked like he felt scared and determined at the same time. "I need to know what you think of me now, Veronica," he whispered to her, just for her. "No more running," he added with a ghost of a smile.

Veronica gazed at his face intently. She was mad at him. Really, really mad. And hurt. She could think of a hundred reasons why this was a horrible idea, including, but not limited to, Kendall, their "epic" history, and the fact that she was surrounded by at least two hundred of her peers. This was a bad, bad, bad idea. She was going to get hurt even more, and burned, and things would eventually go down in a humongous explosion. But she was tired of freaking out about that. She was tired of second guessing her feelings about him. She, for once, was tired of running.

So she threw her arms around his neck and kissed the living crap out of him.

She pulled away for a moment to yell over the mixed catcalls, cheers, and calls of confusion, "Do you understand how much you owe me?"

Logan's forehead rested on hers for a moment and he grinned wickedly, his eyes full of relief. "I think I can come up with something," he muttered with suggestively raised brows.

She decided answering him at this point was useless, and just pulled him back to her and enjoyed the feeling of her mouth covered by his.

This was the day that Veronica Mars stopped running.

AN: So this is a ridiculous happy look on things. What can I say? I'm an optimist at heart. And as soon as my WHAP exam is done tomorrow, I'll work on my other stories, I promise! Really!

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