Chapter Text
“Veronica Mars, please come to the security station. Veronica Mars. Please come to the security station.”
Logan is mortified. They paged her. They paged her over the amusement park PA. And it’s his own fault. Shit . She’s going to kill him.
All he wants to do is have some fun, he shouldn’t be the only one who wants that. But Veronica doesn’t seem interested in teenage revelry, and responsibility is giving him hives. So when he and Veronica agree to go their separate ways on the Junior Class Magic Mountain trip, he runs back to Belle and grabs the duffel bag of beer he stashed just in case. Catching up to Dick and Enbom, Logan hands out the libations. Let the good times roll.
As it turns out, revelry is overrated. He hasn’t spent a lot of time with them recently, and Logan is discovering that Dick and those guys are kind of boring. He posits that there might be a positive correlation between their appeal and the number of beers he consumes, so he starts imbing freely. The next thing he knows, he’s being dragged off the spinning tea cups by security as parents and children stare at him in horror.
Irritated, embarrassed, and a little woozy, when the man behind the security desks asks, “Who are you here with, son?” “Veronica Mars,” just pops out of his mouth before he can control it. He tries to retract—he realizes a little too late that the security guy meant a parent or responsible party (“Neptune High,” for example, would have sufficed)—but the guard is already speaking into the mic.
Logan sulks over to the cheap plastic chairs along the wall and waits.
His furious pixie storms in, and the security guard shoots him a bewildered look. Logan flushes red. This is worse than his mom being called to the principal's office. He starts thinking frantically. Just as she opens her mouth to (he assumes) let him have it he says, “Let’s go to Italy.”
She closes her mouth with a snap. Dropping down on the chair beside him, she leans her head back on the depressingly plain, white wall and sighs, “Okay, Logan, let’s go Italy.”
They’re trying to watch the flat screen on the private plane Logan insisted on taking to Venice. Well, she’s trying to watch, he’s trying to get answers.
“Why, Veronica? Why’d you agree to this trip?”
He’s been bugging her for days to tell him, and her only response so far has been a look of pitying amusement. But now, she’s trapped. She has to answer him. He has a smile ready, fully expecting some ode to manicotti, but she surprises him.
“Because I love you, you idiot. And I don’t want to lose you. And since you won’t let me track your car,” she gives him a withering look, “I figured I better start acting unnaturally and try to compromise.”
Logan’s chest constricts. Veronica rarely says “I love you,” and he’s mostly okay with that. After all, Veronica Mars is a woman of action. She shows him she loves him every day, by being there, by caring, by baking cookies and throwing out waterbeds. Lilly said she loved him a millions times, and she treated him like dirt at least 60% of the time. He’d take the former over the latter any day. But when she does say it...
Logan shuts the TV off. He can think of better ways to pass the time.
Senior year is off to a great start. They’re headed to Hearst in the fall and Logan’s social life has hit a nice stride. He still surfs with Dick, but most of the ‘09ers have fallen off his radar. He spends most of his non-Veronica time with Wallace and, surprisingly, Norris Clayton.
When Logan, Wallace, and Mac first start their insulation techniques around Veronica, Norris is someone who constantly shows up on the periphery. Logan remembers Norris protecting Veronica from bullies and spitballs before , but he also remembers Norris beating kids up for their lunch money. He doesn’t know what to make of it, and has other things to worry about (like Veronica eating). Norris doesn’t approach her so Logan takes a ‘wait and see’ approach.
He soon surmises that Norris is, discreetly, aiding their defensive line. He’s blocking anyone who falls through the cracks, glowering at them or flat-out creating a roadblock with his body. Curious, and suspicious, Logan strikes up a conversation with Norris and finds… a really decent guy. He can guess why he’s so protective of Veronica (she seems to inspire affection in the baddest of bad-asses), but he doesn’t push and Norris doesn’t offer. They share a love of anime and hot blondes, and their bromance blooms organically from there.
The doorbell rings and Logan and Veronica both jump for it. They’re having separate play dates today, Logan is expecting Norris and Veronica is waiting for Mac. Instead, they get Duncan. Is it considered a consolation prize if no one wants it?
One brief exchange and a box of tapes later, Logan stands in the foyer, his heart racing. Duncan thinks he just handed over sex tapes. But they could be anything, really. A birthday, a fun night out, a limo party. But he knows in his gut—the same way he knows that Veronica probably aimed for Madison’s nose in dodge ball last year—this is not good.
Handing Veronica the box he says simply, “Lilly and I never made a sex tape.” Without further discussion she pulls out her phone to cancel Norris and Mac while he searches for something to play the tapes on.
“I know what happened.” Veronica’s declaration cuts through the shocked silence. They’re less than a minute into the first tape, and he’s pretty sure they both know what happened. Not that anyone who can confirm is alive.
Veronica pops up from the floor where they were sitting, huddled around the video camera Logan found in the closet. He watches her pace furiously, a little zoned out as all the implications run through his mind, when she slams her fist through the wall.
“Veronica!”
Still pacing, holding her injured hand, she quotes mockingly, “‘I have a secret, a good one.’ God, Lilly. How could you be so stupid?” She stops in front of him. “Did she know?”
“Know what?” He asks, deliberately avoiding her eyes. He can feel the scars on his back itch. She continues her pacing.
“She knew. Of course she knew. How could she not know? If she wasn’t dead, I’d strangle her myself.” She pauses mid-pace. “We tell nobody about this.”
“Okay…”
“I’m not having your life turned upside down because your father was a pedophile and your ex-girlfriend had no moral compass. Jesus. Forget ‘news at 10,’ you’d be a movie of the week.”
She continues her rant, but he tunes her out. They’ll burn the tapes, and never speak of it again. Problem solved.
He’s not really phased by this new development. His shitty ex-girlfriend did a shitty thing with his shitty father. Whatever . It doesn’t feel like the most important thing that’s happened to him this year. Hell, it doesn’t feel like the most important thing that’s happened to him today. That would be this morning when he and Veronica were—
“Fucking Aaron Echolls.” He blinks at her loud outburst.
Maybe it’s the time away from the toxic people in his life. Maybe it’s loving someone who loves him back. All he knows is that, in this moment, Veronica is way more affected by this than he is.
He knows she’ll calm down. They’ll both end up forgiving Lilly, they always have before. But right now, she’s just so vengeful and indignant on his behalf, he thinks the most prudent course of action would be to have a repeat of this morning.
Logan observes the “Introduction to Criminology” textbook Veronica is reading with distaste. He has been trying to get her to take other coursework, interesting subjects, not just practical ones. He firmly believes college doesn’t have to just be a means to an end. It’s an opportunity to explore what interests you.
For himself, his love of reading and ability to retain even the most obscure references easily translates to an English major. His desire to connect to his mother is what sways him towards Irish Literature. They never did get to discuss James Joyce, but the books made an impression, and he wants to expand on that. Maybe it will help him understand his mom better. Logan plans to couple that major with Economics. He's trying his hardest to make good decisions with his life. He thinks studying economics might help him with that.
As a a graduation gift, Logan surprises Veronica by giving her the entire building that housed the Mars Investigations office. Hers to do with as she pleases.
She has her PI license, but says her heart doesn’t lie in investigation work. She graduated with a double major in Photography and Journalism and takes assignments for various local papers and websites, but she doesn’t need a building for that. It’s not until Mac convinces her to show some of her candid photographs at a local art gallery that inspiration strikes.
The response to her work is positive, and she has started getting requests for commissions. So Logan convinces her to turn the bottom floor of the building into an art gallery, showcasing her work and possibly other local artists. Which leaves the old MI office as the ideal location for a photography studio. The kitchenette will be a dark room, her father’s office will become her office, and the reception area is a perfect studio space.
In the middle of the renovation, she takes a newspaper assignment that keeps her too busy to work on the building, so for the last two months Logan has been overseeing the majority of the work.
And for the last two months he’s been pushing down panic attacks because, for some moronic reason, he decided to use the “big reveal” to propose. What if she says no? Then every time he walks into the building, he’ll have to step over the little pieces of his heart that still litter the floor.
She won’t say no. They bought a house together. That’s supposed to mean something. She said so. They’re already family. She said that, too. It’s going to be fine. No, not fine. Epic.
There’s no turning back now anyway. The renovations are finished and they’re standing at the entrance of the gallery.
He stands back while Veronica oohs and ahhs over the freshly painted space, fingering the ring box in his pocket. Like their relationship, the history behind the ring is both beautiful and tragic. He’s hoping to give it, and them, a more promising future. The first time he even heard about the ring was in his mom’s suicide note.
In 1961, Leonard Lester dutifully saves two months of salary, plus a little extra—just in case. He then spends an embarrassingly long amount of time agonizing over cut, color, and clarity.
On the day of purchase, he paces the jewelry store as he considers the various styles available, the dainty fingers of his sweetheart, and just how far he can stretch his savings. The saleswomen must find his bashful nerves charming, because they go out of their way to show him the best rings, and the best deals.
In a bold move, fueled by love and a (all too frequent) spontaneous bout of cockiness, he purchases not only an engagement ring, but a wedding band for the future Mrs. Leonard Lester as well.
That night, over a carefully orchestrated dinner at her favorite Italian restaurant, Leonard slides from his chair and kneels down next to his darling, Vivian. She says “yes,” before he can even take the ring out of his pocket. Still, all the effort is worth it when, upon seeing the ring set, Vivian effusively praises his good taste and waves her left hand around, flaunting it, for the remainder of the evening.
Their lives are uncomplicated, and they’re content in its simplicity. Leonard works the assembly line at the Ford Motor Company. Vivian is a records clerk at the local police station. They save the grand adventures for the romance novels Vivian reads aloud before bed, and focus on supporting each other—making their present the best it can be.
Every Friday he brings her flowers. Every Sunday she cooks a pot roast. Every night they play records, and most nights he asks her to dance. They find joy in sharing their day, discussing their hopes and dreams.
When one of those dreams come true, in the form of a gorgeous baby girl they name Lynn, Vivian and Leonard easily extend their bubble of love to include her. He brings his girls flowers every Friday; Vivian and Lynn make a pot roast every Sunday. Most nights they stay up late dancing and reconnecting after they put Lynn to bed.
They’re satisfied with the lives they lead. Proud of the values they hold. So when their only daughter tells them she wants to be a movie star, they’re bewildered. But they know love is supportive. Leonard supported Vivian when she nervously applied for her record keeping job, and Vivian supported Leonard after he landed himself in jail for punching the first cop that made a pass at her. And so they easily extend their support to include Lynn. They buy her a bus ticket to LA for her 18th birthday, and secretly put aside enough for a ticket home—just in case.
They made promises, took vows, and so when Vivian is diagnosed with breast cancer not long after Lynn leaves for LA, Leonard has her, he holds her, through the sickness, all the while hoping for health to return. He brings her flowers every week, makes her a pot roast every Sunday. When Vivian passes away, Leonard follows three weeks later. His official cause of death is heart failure, but those who know him believe his heart broke three weeks ago.
A broken Lynn returns to clean out her childhood home, and finds her mother’s rings in her the nightstand, next to a couple of dog-eared romance novels, and an envelope marked “Lynn, Bus Money.”
Lynn buries her family and uses the money to return to LA. Once there, she tearfully locks the rings away, vowing to wear them when she finds her own true love—a love as great as theirs. And so, it is with hearts in her eyes that Lynn Lester marries a bashful, yet spontaneously cocky, Aaron Echolls.
Their lives aren’t simple. Lynn can’t seem to get used to the pretense of LA society. But she perseveres, she never stops chasing her dream for the perfect life. She chases it through bruised torsos and bottles of gin. She chases it past scantily clad women and malicious headlines. And when part of her dream comes true, in the form of a beautiful baby boy, she realizes that she finally has someone. Someone who lights up her world. But it turns out, he’s someone she can’t protect. Someone who is better off without her.
So she washes down her dreams with prescription pills and Evian. And says goodbye. She leaves the Blackberry with her story, her goodbye note, on the passenger seat of her cherry red convertible, before stepping off the rail of Coronado Bridge.
When Logan finds the rings, hiding next to his grandfather’s lighter, he understands their significance immediately. Staring at the engraving inside the engagement ring, he makes a vow to find his mother.
He read her so-called goodbye note, and he doesn’t believe she killed herself. She wouldn’t just let go of the hope for the kind of love his grandparents shared. Even if she failed in the past, that’s the type of love you keep searching for, keep fighting for. Logan himself is a fighter, and despite the bruises from his father, he thinks he got that from his mother. So he’s going to find her.
He runs his thumb over the words etched in the band. Tomorrow, he’s going to talk to Veronica Mars. They used to be friends a long time ago. They’re on the verge of becoming friends again. He hears she does favors for friends.
And now, here he is, years later, standing in front of the door to the former Mars Investigations office, trying not to vomit. It’s ridiculous.
In a surge of courage (that looks suspiciously like cockiness), he positions her in front of the door and stands behind her. Reaching around her he turns the knob, then gently steers her inside to the wall opposite the entrance.
There, a wide, velvet red ribbon starts on the far wall and wraps around the entire room, over the closed doors of the dark room and office, ending at the entrance doorway. Attached to the ribbon are clothespins.
She walks to the first clothespin and stares at the picture attached. It’s of them, at 12, right after one of her soccer games. She’s a little disheveled, but radiant, probably high off a win, and he’s behind her sporting a devious grin—clearly about to pull her long ponytail. Above the picture, on the wall, is a sign that reads “1999.”
This is it. The timeline of their relationship. The good, the bad, and the asshole. He debated some of the things he gathered, adding and subtracting them until he finally just put everything on the line. Their entire relationship has been dragged through pain and glued together by raw honesty. No need to sugarcoat it now.
In that spirit, between the signs for 2003 and 2004 is a banner declaring “LOGAN IS A JACKASS.” That section consists of newspaper clippings (Lilly), magazine articles (Lynn), and even copies of detention slips from his “torture Veronica” days (Wallace managed to procure those). There is only a single picture, one Norris handed him saying, “I got over her...mostly. Good luck, brother. Don’t fuck it up.”
The picture shows Veronica sitting alone at a school lunch table, in full pink regalia, complete with long hair set in soft waves. She’s not doing anything special, just staring into space, but the sadness on her face is beautifully gut-wrenching. To her left is the ‘09er table, everyone golden and laughing. Expect for Logan. He’s turned toward Veronica, looking at her profile with such intensity it made him uncomfortable when he first saw it. He’s not sure what it means, but he knows it’s important.
Further down the line, there’s a picture of Keith, a copy of the deed for their house, their acceptance letters to Hearst. Pictures of them are interspersed: Magic Mountain (before the beer), Italy, prom, lazy days at home, nights out. All leading to one last, empty, clothespin.
When she gets to that pin, he plans to get down on one knee, ring in hand. If—WHEN—she says yes, he’ll fetch the Polaroid camera he tucked away, and they can finish the timeline together.
But she doesn’t walk around the room. Instead, she makes a slow pirouette in place, eyes bouncing from one memento to another. When her gaze reaches his, she takes a running jump, throwing her legs around his waist. “Yes.”
The ring never makes it out of his pocket.
Veronica eventually gives the memorabilia their due attention. They spend over an hour looking at everything and reminiscing. When they reach the end, she hands Logan the ring box (which fell out of his pocket when he was putting his pants back on), holds out her left hand and says, “Gimme.”
"It’s perfect.” She breathes, while running her thumb over the diamond band surrounding the small, simple emerald-cut center stone. Holding it up, she examines it more closely. Reading the inscription out loud she says, “‘ L + V, together in love .’ You had it engraved!”
Calmer now, confident, he smiles. “I didn’t. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Let’s take our picture.”
“Logan Echolls, please come to the security station. Logan Echolls. Please come to the security station.”
The announcement, over the PA system at Magic Mountain, alarms him. What could have happened? He only left them a minute ago.
Since the kids wanted to go on the teacup ride—and he’s never going on that ride again—he used the opportunity to buy everyone some bottles of water. Doctor Spock says hydration is important in children of all ages.
Entering the security station, he hears his wife’s dulcet tones.
“And I told you that I’m not leaving this park without my husband.”
Logan spies two sullen kids sitting in cheap plastic chairs, and one angry Veronica going toe-to-toe with a burly security guard.
There’s my girl, spreading sunshine wherever she goes.
“And who is your husband, Miss?”
Logan mentally raises his hand.
“I already told that guy,” she gestures rather violently at the man behind the PA mic, “who my husband is. Or did you miss the announcement, Bob?”
Bob should exercise more caution with someone who can deliver honey coated venom with such ease, but the man clearly has no sense of self preservation. He puffs out his chest, “ Now listen here, little girl—“
“ Little girl ?”
Shit. She’s going to taser Bob. The kids perk up in their seats, clearly expecting the same. Tony catches sight of him.
“Mom, Dad’s here!”
Joy gives him a little finger wave.
Logan hustles forwards, and gathers Veronica to him. “I’ll take it from here,” he glances at the man’s name tag, “Robert.”
Veronica lets Logan lead her out, signalling for the kids to follow. “Bye, Bob,” she sings out mockingly over her shoulder.
They leave the park in silence, content to listen to the sounds of the kids bickering goodnaturedly.
When they hit the parking lot he asks, “So… what happened?”
“Mom punched someone!”
“Tony, shush. I didn’t punch anyone.”
“Veronica…”
Veronica turns red, muttering, “I kicked him.”
Of course she did. “Why?”
“Well he grabbed me from behind —”
Logan spins on his heel and starts back towards the park. Veronica chases him.
“Logan, no!” She tugs at his arm, pulling him back in the other direction. “It was a mistake. I should have said—I thought he grabbed me from behind, but it was a case of mistaken identity. Only I didn’t realize it, and I slammed my foot down on his toe.”
“Mistaken identity?” Doubt is clear in his voice, but he keeps walking towards their car.
“He thought I was someone else, and he was trying to give me a hug. His wife explained everything, but he was so busy hollering about his ‘broken toe’ that security got there and insisted we leave.”
“Wait, his wife was there? Who did he think you were?”
If possible, she turns an even brighter shade of red.
“He thought Mom was his daughter!” Joy offers gleefully.
Veronica gives her a narrowed-eyed look, as Logan snickers.
They reach the car, and Logan unlocks the doors so everyone can pile inside.
In immense good cheer, he slides behind the steering wheel and pulls out his phone, pressing the familiar sequence of keys to change his voicemail.
“This is Logan Echolls with today’s inspiration quote. ‘You go through life wondering what it’s about, but at the end of the day, it’s all about family.’ Rod Stewart.”
Tony groans from the backseat, “Corny, Dad. You’re so embarrassing.” While next to him Joy wonders, “Who’s Rod Stewart?”
Veronica’s shoulder’s shake with mirth.
Logan raises his voice, addressing the car. “Listen up, family! This is important. You remember this: I used to be cool.”
Veronica joins in the laughter a little too wholeheartedly and Logan aims a pout in her direction.
She grins and interlaces her fingers with his on the gear shift.
“Let’s take the long way home.”