Veronica let herself fall backwards into the comforter as Logan flung open the doors to the liquor cabinet with flourish and a flick of both wrists. Gesturing to the contents he turned back to her, a warm smile that he was unable to remove from his lips still present. She found herself grinning back as he proclaimed, "ladies' choice".

"You got anything in there that's not gonna singe my eyebrows?"

He gave her a mock impatient sigh, holding up a bottle of vodka for her inspection.

Veronica rolled onto her stomach, grimacing towards the bottle. Logan shot her a quick, disapproving look. "What? It's good."

She sighed, relenting. "You have anything to mix it with?"

"There should be some OJ in the fridge." He nodded across the room.

"Color me game then." She pulled herself up, hopping off the bed and heading toward the small kitchen in the corner.

When she made it back to their HQ for the evening Logan already had the top off the vodka and the neck in his mouth—he shivered slightly as the swig of alcohol coursed down his throat. Veronica shivered as she watched his muscles contract around the liquid.

She handed him a glass and he promptly took hers as well, balancing them between his legs as he poured what could only be considered a double into both glasses and handed one back to her. Veronica topped it up liberally with orange juice but Logan waved her away when she proffered the carton in his direction.

Logan lifted the glass to his lips and threw the vodka back in one go, shooting it from the too-tall glass. Veronica's eyes went wide as she watched him, sipping at her drink.

"They're going to be able to clean windows with your breath at that rate," she smiled brightly even as she shook her head at his empty glass. Logan discarded it on the floor for the meantime.

"Well you won't need to brush your teeth then." He pulled her closer, leaning back into the pillow as Veronica met his kiss head-on, her tongue easing into his mouth.

As he pulled her further off balance Veronica gasped, "My drink, Logan!"

He darted back from her lips, removing the glass from between her hands. Taking a sip he turned his gaze on her, "Weak, Mars."

She shrugged her mouth, eyebrows rising apologetically. "What can I say; some of us weren't born with your tolerance. Or body mass."

"Are you calling me fat?" he gasped.

She rolled her eyes, taking the glass from him very deliberately. Swallowing a quarter of the way down and placing it carefully on the floor next to the bed. As she crawled back up his chest Logan's arms came loosely around to rest his hands on the small of her back, cradling her small frame against him. She reached up for a languid kiss and they fell to their sides—equal on the bed—his hand still on her waist, stroking gently.

She was breathing steadily as Logan inched closer to her, mouth moving to her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Soft lips plying against the warm, beating skin—alive with her pulse beneath. As he moved back to her mouth Veronica smiled against him.

"This is a little weird."

Logan pulled back, quirking an annoyed eyebrow at her.

"I just mean… I'm your girlfriend, that's weird—" she broke off, suddenly realizing. "Unless, that, that was all just for show," she moved, trying to sit up out of his grasp.

He caught her wrist, lips catching against hers, tongue pressing into her mouth carefully, deliberately. Logan moved to deepen the kiss, leaning over Veronica—pressing her back into the mattress—as he shifted the angle. She responded, arms moving around him, one hand grasping his shoulder for support as the other rested on his side idly stroking under his shirt.

He broke away, gasping a little, "It wasn't for show."

"Good," she smiled, dragging his mouth back to her.

After a moment Veronica's right hand came up between them, shoving at Logan's chest.

"Hey!"

She used his shock and the distance she had created to roll out from under him, leaning off the bed she finished her glass and then moved back to him, two small determined hands pushing his shoulders back into the bed as she slung one leg over his hips—straddling him again.

Logan leaned back—quite happy with the position—as she wriggled down against him, mouth moving back to him, lips pressing to his: warm and damp, soft and pliable as he ran his tongue along the line between them. She opened her mouth slightly, allowing him minimal access. As his hand ran up her side moving to her breast through the thin layer of her tank top she arched into him, opening her mouth fully.

She moaned on a breath as his thumb stroked across her nipple softly—hands manipulating the soft flesh through her bra as she lay into him. She ground her hips into his mindlessly and Logan groaned quietly, his hands coming down to tickle her sides causing Veronica to jump apart—hands swatting at him in return as she fell off of him and back onto the crumpled covers.

Logan rolled dramatically off the bed, almost falling as Veronica grabbed his ankle, her eyes narrowed in revenge. Logan grinned widely once he was free and she threw a pillow at him, nearly knocking the bottle of vodka from between his hands.

"Hey, hotshot, you almost spilled my drink."

She pouted coaxingly, "Come back to the bed," she patted the mattress next to her, "You don't need another drink."

He smirked wickedly, continuing to pour his drink. "Veronica Mars inviting me into bed?" he winked at her before turning his gaze towards the ceiling with a quick but emphatic, "thank you."

Another pillow flew towards his head.

"That's it," he declared, forgetting the drink as he darted towards her.

Veronica anticipated his attack, jumping down onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed; arms braced—ready to take off in either direction. Logan feinted left and just as she was about to run he leapt across the bed, grabbing at her waist. As Veronica squealed and tried to get away she felt his arms tighten from behind her, dragging her to him. Logan's mouth was at her ear—he kissed the edge, running his tongue along it. Veronica let out a sharp gasp, her lungs panting from the adrenaline of their rather short chase. She moved one hand to run soothingly along his arm as it curved around her.

"Game over," he whispered thickly.

She turned in his arms planting a series of small kisses by his mouth. "I preferred this anyway," she mumbled into his lips.

She was so earnest he couldn't help the giggle that escaped his mouth as he responded, a hand running through her hair, kisses pressed wherever his lips could touch her.

**

"Oh!" Veronica pulled away from Logan suddenly.

He looked over at her curiously as Veronica took a step back, checking her cell phone for the time. "What?"

"I can't drive home."

Logan grinned, shaking his head. "I can't drive either, not right now." He swung the mostly empty bottle of vodka between two fingers. He dropped the bottle and moved to stand by her.

"Do you think your dad would give me a ride?"

"Sure," Logan nodded, "if he's not with an audience."

"Right," she sighed, berating herself for not thinking about how she was going to get home.

Logan ran a comforting hand down her arm, suggesting, "You could call your dad."

"He doesn't know where I am. And if he sees me like this you might get a swift introduction to his handgun. I'd rather keep you around."

"Not the best first impression," he agreed, smiling.

"Not first impression, he knows you, Logan. He's driven you home like this," she waved her hands between them and the bottle, "hundreds of times."

"Thanks for inspiring confidence in me, V. A lot less worried about telling him now."

She leaned up to kiss him sweetly. "I'll tell him tonight. You know, if I ever get home."

"You could stay."

She cocked an eyebrow.

"I'll be good," he defended.

"Love to, but somehow I think my dad believing I was at the library until—" she checked the time, "—2 a.m. is probably stretching it enough."

His hands moved through her hair, resting on her shoulders, fingers moving gently. He kissed her slowly, intoxicatingly. When they broke apart he didn't move away, their foreheads barely touching as his breath caressed against her skin, hot and damp. "God, I don't want you to go."

"Mmhmm," she responded sleepily. "Feeling's mutual, but I think it's safer for all concerned if I go home now," she whispered.

He caught her mouth again, the kiss edging on desperate. His lips pulled against hers with a little more force, his tongue pushing into her mouth, moving against hers firmly. Veronica moaned soundly, her hand latching onto the back of his neck. She took a step away as their mouths parted.

"Now," he nodded his agreement.

She took a deep breath, unable to stop smiling. "Hey, school's in like eight hours."

"School…" his demeanor brightened considerably.

"…As a couple," she finished, edging closer. "This is definitely going to be interesting."

"Very," he grinned, his mouth finding hers again despite himself.

"Stop it," she laughed. "You're making it hard to leave."

"You're making it hard to stop," he smiled into her open mouth.

"This is good," she murmured as he released her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Logan let his hands fall to her back, holding her close against him, Veronica's head resting on his chest by his shoulder—her breathing warm through his shirt.

"Yeah," he breathed into her hair.

"God," she berated herself as she pulled away, "I'm just a pile of mush today, blame the vodka."

"It's been a tough day," he acknowledged.

"Blame that then," she smiled the edges a little wobbly.

"You really okay?" he asked, the fingers of one hand tracing her jaw lightly.

She moved her face into his hand, nodding very slightly. "Yeah, I am. It's just… a lot."

He nodded in return as he asked, "Ready to go home?"

"I guess I'd better."

"Goodnight kiss?"

"Do you even need to ask?" she was near tears as she pushed down the bubbling mass of emotions that had surfaced throughout the day and he placed a mostly chaste kiss against her mouth.

Running his hands down her arms he twined the fingers of one hand with hers and swung them lightly. "Come on; let's go find you a chauffeur."

"Yes, please."

**

Madison Sinclair and her bottle-blonde brigade stood gathered around a locker in the corner watching carefully as Logan and Veronica walked through the front doors of Neptune High. Veronica was half a step in front, both hands curled tightly around a folder as Logan followed behind a book hanging loosely from his grip.

"You okay?" he mumbled close to her ear as they continued down the corridor to the backdrop of whispers and explanations.

She nodded stiffly. "Yeah, it's cool."

He grinned at her his free hand between them moving up to touch her elbow, she glanced at him quickly surprised by the contact. "You gonna use these joints today?"

She smiled, relaxing a little despite herself. "Sure, oil me up and I'm good to go."

"Don't tempt me."

She flushed slightly at his suggestion, happy to reach her locker. As she worked the combination Logan leaned back against the stack next to her crossing his legs lightly at the ankles as he surveyed the scene before them.

"Apparently no one did anything interesting last night?"

"How so?" she asked absentmindedly, face hidden by her locker as she searched for a textbook.

"We're the gossip column for this morning."

Veronica pulled out of the locker holding her textbook triumphantly as she regarded him with a good dose of skepticism. "And you're surprised?"

"What?" He held up his hands in surrender. "You haven't planted a bong in my locker for at least a month."

She tried to control her smile as she ducked her head incriminatingly. "You don't know that was me. I'm still offended that you would pin it on me with such little proof."

"Try: I know it was you."

"Try: zero evidence."

He waved a finger in her direction. "One day…"

She grinned up at him. "Don't even bother, Echolls. I've got your number."

"My phone number, National security or credit card?" he sidled closer.

"What about all three?"

"You're… sneaky," he ducked his head, face leveling with Veronica. "It's kinda hot…"

"Logan," her eyes widened as he moved closer, scant centimeters between their mouths now. "Logan, you're making a sce—"

She was cut off as his mouth closed over hers, one hand threading loosely through her hair. She returned the kiss casually and they both broke apart when a cat call sounded from down the corridor. Logan's tongue pushed into the corner of his mouth as he tried not to laugh, Veronica's free hand coming up to cover her face as she blushed.

He brought his lips to hers for one last quick peck and she sighed. "Tell me it's going to stop."

"They'll get bored he promised."

**

"You know," she whispered up to him, "I don't know when more people have stared at me: now or when I cut my hair."

Logan didn't hesitate as he headed towards the Journalism room—pushing the door open firmly as they passed through. "The hair, definitely, looked like you took a weed whacker to the whole damn lot."

She frowned at him, bottom lip pulled in between her teeth. The few people already in the room were busy with their assignments as the two of them pulled up a couple of empty chairs in the middle of the room. Veronica scanned the room distractedly, looking for any signs of Duncan.

Logan snapped his fingers near her face, trying to bring her back."Did you?" he prodded.

"Shut up. It looked fine," she pouted.

He snorted. "It looked like you'd been attacked."

"I did it with scissors!" She smacked his arm, gaining a few onlookers.

He grinned down at her, rubbing gently at the spot where she had hit him. Tilting his head he tried his most innocent tone with her, "Just trying to start our relationship with some honesty."

She closed her eyes pulling a pencil out of her bag, sucking in a deep breath. "Yeah," she nodded, quietly, "this is definitely a little weird."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping his pen idly against the desk as he watched her. "If you keep saying that you're gonna give me a complex."

"Sorry, it's just…" she fumbled for words.

"Weird?" he finished, quirking his eyebrows in emphasis.

Veronica furrowed her brow slightly as she attempted to explain—and failed. "Yeah," she sighed. "You get it, right?"

"Kinda," Logan nodded. He swung his chair back onto four legs and rested one elbow on the table to lean closer to her. "Doesn't really bother me though," he admitted.

**

Logan made a grab for her waist as the passed in the corridor, pulling her to the side of the hall and backing up until she was against the wall.

"Down boy." She smiled and laid a palm flat on his chest, easing some distance between them.

Logan took a step back regarding Veronica with a cocked eyebrow. "You do know I'm not your dog, right?"

He moved his hands to rest gently on her hips and she held carefully onto his elbows, thumbs resting comfortably in the crook of both arms. "Clever."

"Just checking."

She sighed, "Bell's about to ring."

"You know I think we should revisit our old friend the girls' bathroom."

She pushed her hands into her pockets, bringing them out again, palms up and empty. "No tardy slips."

"I'll risk being late for you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.

She grinned, leaning back into him. "Aww, I'm touched!"

"Please?" he wheedled, mouth close to hers.

Her smile split properly in response and he bent his head closer to press a quick kiss to her cheek. "Tease," he determined

"Hey," she tried very hard to look offended, "I want to graduate."

"Sounds pretty unappealing in comparison," he decided.

"Ohh, multi-syllabic words," she cooed in faux-pride.

"See," he played along, "we don't need class."

"I have bio next. They don't appreciate the words."

"We could study anatomy, right here!"

She pulled him down, planting one last kiss to his lips as she mumbled against his lips, "PDA talk later." As she pulled back the bell rang and Veronica gave him a little wave, merging into the crowd. "I'll see you before lunch."

Logan shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head after the disappearing blonde.

**

Veronica found him by his locker right before lunch. "Logan?"

"Yeah?" he looked up from his locker, letting the metal door clang shut as he straightened up next to her and the two of them headed towards the door.

She hesitated, "People are being … nice to me."

"Yeah?" he seemed unimpressed by her latest piece of news.

Veronica stopped just outside the door, staring at him. "This isn't a normal occurrence."

"Right, but you're dating me," he dismissed.

Veronica wasn't impressed. "Way to be conceited. That shouldn't be a one-way ticket to popularity."

"But it's okay for dating Duncan to be?" his tone was under toned with hurt.

"It's not like that," she denied quickly.

"It's exactly like that."

She scrambled to explain herself. "I shouldn't be defined by who I'm dating."

"You're not," he insisted.

"To them I am." She nodded towards the 09er table.

"Who, Dick? Madison?" he squinted at her a little, a his hand moving to give her shoulder a soft squeeze. "Do you really care what they think?"

She seemed a little overwhelmed. "No. But just en masse it's—"

Logan was starting to lose patience. "Listen, it's not a tragedy that people are being civil, Veronica."

"Ignore me." She ducked away from his gaze, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Hey," his voice was softer this time. "Just stop thinking so much."

A voice came from behind them and Veronica turned to see Wallace. "But then she might explode."

"Wallace! Where you been?"

"Avoiding your breakdown by the looks of it," he smirked.

"Hey, man. Logan." Logan introduced himself, extending a hand.

Wallace accepted it, "You know you got a list of guys ready to break you if you hurt her again?"

"Pretty sure there wouldn't be anything left to break after her dad was done with me."

"Damn straight," Veronica grinned, desperate to ease the tension.

"So…" Wallace decided to ask the obvious. "Where you guys sitting?"

"Uh…" Veronica faltered, looking to Logan.

He shrugged. "I don't think Duncan's talking to me."

"To us," she amended. "He… kind of found out last night in front of everyone," she added to Wallace.

He winced. "Harsh."

"He'll get over it." Logan nodded towards an empty table near the middle of the quad, "Neutral ground."

"Perfect." Veronica started towards the table as Logan grabbed her hand. Wallace couldn't help but crack a grin at the brief look of shock that filtered over Veronica's features. She seemed incapable of accepting any physical attention in public.

Logan stole a glance down at her, trying to keep his voice down. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's just strange not to be sneaking around. Last night seemed kinda… surreal. This is really, really real," she smiled reassuringly. "It's fine. I adjust well."

**

Veronica fished around in her purse, looking for her keys. Logan leaned back against her car door, waiting. Finally Veronica pulled a key ring from her bag, looking over to Logan as she shooed him away from her door. "You have to come over later."

"'Have to', eh?" he smirked wickedly.

"My dad wants to… talk to you," she winced in sympathy.

Logan looked a little distressed as he asked, "Should I be wearing Kevlar?"

"You'll be fine," she patted his arm reassuringly. Stopping suddenly she looked up at him, "Just—don't answer any questions about your intentions, okay?"

He grinned full-force, leaning back against her car as he pulled her to him. "And what would you know about my 'intentions'?"

"That none of them are anything my dad wants to know about," she smirked.

Logan looked as if he was considering for a moment before he ducked down for a kiss, pausing right before her mouth. "Gonna have to agree with you on that," he murmured into her lips.

"So, come over for dinner."

"Hey, at least that way my dad can't poison me…" he tailed off, evaluating. "Just yours…"

Veronica smiled affectionately, running her fingers through the front of his hair carelessly. "No poisoning," she promised. "We'll eat, my dad'll make you feel uncomfortable, you won't talk about me," she warned, "and then maybe I'll make out with you on the porch."

He sidled closer again, "Maybe I'll move onto your porch."

"Or you could just take me out on a date."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Seven?"

He pressed his lips to hers soundly, pulling back to head towards his own car. "Later."

She gave him a little wave and a big grin, sliding into her car and peeling out of the parking lot.

One day of school as Logan Echolls' girlfriend? Down.