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Mar. 31st, 2014 11:37 am"What's a hundred and eighty days to us?"
For just a second after Logan shuts the door behind him, leaving Veronica there on his bed, he considers turning around. He could stay, go AWOL, never leave. He's not going to pretend that the idea doesn't have a certain level of appeal. After all, the siren call of Neptune brought Veronica back after nine years; what chance does the U.S.S. Harry Truman have against it? The pull is strong with this town.
Or maybe that's just Veronica. It's always been that way between them.
Even after all that time, she was the first person he thought to call when he found himself in hot water.
But ducking duty? That's not Logan anymore. The rhythms he and Veronica have fallen back into since she got back, familiar or not, he's looking at from a different perspective now. Nine years out, and the world doesn't look quite the same from the other side of a beaten murder rap. Not that he didn't enjoy yet another fun adventure with the Neptune Sheriff's Department and a member of the illustrious Lamb family, but it's not like the last time he was unjustly accused. Even after their relationship had basically fallen apart, lost in the busy shuffle that had been Bonnie: the drugs, the music, the hangers-on, he'd still cared about her enough to try his damnedest to make sure she didn't wind up dead.
Apparently, he should have been looking out for the other guy.
But this wasn't Felix and PCHers on a bridge when he was still a kid, reeling from what happened with his mother. This was his old life bleeding into his new one, Neptune and all of its shit pulling them all back in again and again.
He's glad to have it all behind him, though, to know that both he and Bonnie will fade from the spotlight and the tabloids just as soon as a Kardashian does something interesting enough to warrant a cover. Nobody wants to read about the movie star's son who decided to straighten up and literally fly right. That's not going to sell those Entertainment Weeklys.
So six months. One hundred and eighty days. It's just about enough time for everything to blow over. Even if being away from Neptune means being away from her. Logan takes one last look at his phone, at the picture he took of her just a few minutes ago and slips it into his pocket, because if he doesn't get moving, all those jokes about dealing with an AWOL rap are going to become just another tick on his rap sheet.
But just then, something shifts. It's all of a sudden that the front yard of the house changes and he's staring at a street. A shop. Whiplash? Not sure what the hell's going on, how he got there, or if he's gone into some weird drug trip without realizing, Logan hefts his pack more comfortably on his shoulder, and walks in.
"Well this ought to be interesting," he says to himself.
For just a second after Logan shuts the door behind him, leaving Veronica there on his bed, he considers turning around. He could stay, go AWOL, never leave. He's not going to pretend that the idea doesn't have a certain level of appeal. After all, the siren call of Neptune brought Veronica back after nine years; what chance does the U.S.S. Harry Truman have against it? The pull is strong with this town.
Or maybe that's just Veronica. It's always been that way between them.
Even after all that time, she was the first person he thought to call when he found himself in hot water.
But ducking duty? That's not Logan anymore. The rhythms he and Veronica have fallen back into since she got back, familiar or not, he's looking at from a different perspective now. Nine years out, and the world doesn't look quite the same from the other side of a beaten murder rap. Not that he didn't enjoy yet another fun adventure with the Neptune Sheriff's Department and a member of the illustrious Lamb family, but it's not like the last time he was unjustly accused. Even after their relationship had basically fallen apart, lost in the busy shuffle that had been Bonnie: the drugs, the music, the hangers-on, he'd still cared about her enough to try his damnedest to make sure she didn't wind up dead.
Apparently, he should have been looking out for the other guy.
But this wasn't Felix and PCHers on a bridge when he was still a kid, reeling from what happened with his mother. This was his old life bleeding into his new one, Neptune and all of its shit pulling them all back in again and again.
He's glad to have it all behind him, though, to know that both he and Bonnie will fade from the spotlight and the tabloids just as soon as a Kardashian does something interesting enough to warrant a cover. Nobody wants to read about the movie star's son who decided to straighten up and literally fly right. That's not going to sell those Entertainment Weeklys.
So six months. One hundred and eighty days. It's just about enough time for everything to blow over. Even if being away from Neptune means being away from her. Logan takes one last look at his phone, at the picture he took of her just a few minutes ago and slips it into his pocket, because if he doesn't get moving, all those jokes about dealing with an AWOL rap are going to become just another tick on his rap sheet.
But just then, something shifts. It's all of a sudden that the front yard of the house changes and he's staring at a street. A shop. Whiplash? Not sure what the hell's going on, how he got there, or if he's gone into some weird drug trip without realizing, Logan hefts his pack more comfortably on his shoulder, and walks in.
"Well this ought to be interesting," he says to himself.