Things That Go Bump in the Night

There was a time in Veronica's life when she was desperately afraid of the dark. It had been her childhood fear, the one that no amount of coaxing and calming and facing could ever entirely defeat. She slept with a nightlight glowing in her room, she carried a pocket flashlight with her to get glasses of water when she woke up parched. She would sprint from a car door to her porch if ever dropped off after evening fell, and only then if she couldn't persuade the driver to come in for some reason.

Now it seemed as though her life was spent exclusively in the dark. She woke up as early as any other high school student, and went through her daily school routines, but the majority of the real living that she did took place in the ambiguity of night-time. It was easier to creep around when no one could see you, easier to watch people when you were nothing more than a shadow. Perhaps that's why she found it comforting, now, instead of frightening - she had become one of those mysterious things in the night. No need to fear them anymore.

Occasionally, though, what emerged from the darkness she enveloped herself in still had a way of surprising her.

That night was a slow one; she was parked outside of the Van Pelt estate, waiting for the master of the house to slip away so that she might find the precise location of his mistress's apartment. She'd been there for two hours, though, and it seemed like the house was bedded down for the night. Yawning, Veronica checked her watch, deciding to stick around for another hour. If nothing happened by then, she'd call it a night. It wasn't a total loss, anyway - she was still able to bill the missus for an evening's work.

She was digging through her back-pack in search of her latest English assignment when she saw a flash of something on the lawn. Frowning, she pulled out her binoculars, scrambling to focus them in time to catch whatever it was.

"Unbelievable," she muttered. A woman -- the other woman, as it were -- was making her way up the sloping lawns of the estate. Making a house call to your benefactor's family home? Gutsy, thought Veronica, clicking her seatbelt open and sliding out of the car. She needed to see where exactly this woman was going. She had a feeling she wasn't about to walk in the front door, and a servant getting paid a little extra to keep quiet about someone using the kitchen entrance could be a valuable clue.

Veronica was skirting along the iron fence that surrounded the property when she heard the rumble of motors. The stretch of road was a remote one; she hadn't seen more than two cars pass during the time she was parked there, but this was the sound of several cars at once, and very close. She tensed as they neared, praying that they wouldn't see her standing there in the gravel and weeds - a prayer that died on her lips as the cars slowed to a stop just behind her.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Veronica Mars. Let me guess, enacting your own version of Cheaters?"

There were snickers, though how many, she couldn't say. She knew the voice, though. She'd always know that voice.

"Cat got your tongue? Come on, Veronica. You're usually so verbose!"

Veronica turned around slowly, trying to assess the situation as calmly as possible. She didn't have her taser on her, and Backup was at home. She was virtually defenseless, should this crowd want to pull any kind of hijinx, unless she could get back to her car. She realized with a sinking feeling of panic that there was no chance of that happening - three shiny sports vehicles were taking up the majority of the road, parked in a semi-circle around her convertible.

Logan Echolls jumped out of his red jeep, landing lightly in his skater shoes. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing around at the mansion, the yard, and his prey. "We have a neighborhood watch program around here, you know." He said this conversationally. She glanced over his shoulder at the stirrings in the other cars, as boys leaned out the windows to get a better look at what was going on. "We're supposed to report any sightings of... lurking undesirables."

"Like gangs?" she asked earnestly, folding her arms and playing with a necklace. He seemed amused.

"Like nosy little girls who go messing around where they don't belong."

"You never struck me as the vigilante type," she returned, a challenging smile flitting across her face.

"Gosh, Veronica! You aren't even trying to be nice. You must really want this bad."

She shifted a little as the doors to all three vehicles opened, and several boys came clambering out. They all had similarly entertained expressions on their faces as they leaned against their cars. Veronica glanced up the road in either direction; there definitely wasn't anyone around to hear her scream. The woman she'd spotted was certainly inside by now.

"What do you want, Logan? I'm a little busy."

He took a step closer to her, and then another, causing her to instinctively edge back. The vertical metal bars of the fence dug into her spine.

"You know, that's your problem, Veronica. You're always in too much of a hurry." He touched her collarbone lightly, tracing it down to the center dip. "You never have the time for the finer things in life."

She stared up at him dully, not bothering to slap away his hand. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why do you think, Veronica Mars?" He leaned in a little more, eyeing her appreciatively. "I liked you so much last time that I just had to come back for more."

She shut her eyes, then, as her skin suddenly dropped drastically in temperature. This couldn't be happening, she thought. She wasn't a victim anymore. She wasn't a victim anymore. She forced herself to look at him, to look him in the eye. At her sides, her fingers clenched and then unclenched. "I know you, Logan," she said evenly. "We've known each other for years." Her voice shook a little on the last word. "You wouldn't do anything to me."

Logan's features were still for a moment, and then slowly spread into a grin. He turned to his friends and spread his hands. "You hear that? I guess she really does know everything." He turned back, still smiling, as though they were engaging in some sort of friendly banter. His voice was quiet when he spoke to her, though. She was reminded of the day he took a crowbar to her car. "You know what I think, Veronica Mars? I think you don't have a clue what people are truly capable of."

She looked back at him for a moment, and then turned and ran. It was stupid, it was only giving him what he wanted, but she didn't care. She had to at least try to get away from this, try something. Surely she had some kind of strength outside of her standard self-protection arsenal. Surely she had some power in this situation.

Blaine Carmichael, the track star, caught her in three easy strides, grabbing her wrist and sending her tumbling to the ground.

Logan sauntered up casually. "Don't do that, Veronica. You'll make me think you don't like me."

She glared up at him from the street, even as another of his friends stepped up and hauled her to her feet. "I guess the rumors about your tiny cock must have spread pretty far, if you have to resort to this to get any action."

He stepped even closer to her. "So witty, too. You just never know when to keep your pretty little mouth shut."

"You can't do this to me, Logan. I will get you for it. I will find something, some way--" her face crumpled for a brief moment before she could regain her composure. "I will bring you down."

"I sincerely doubt that, Veronica. But let's continue this conversation somewhere a little more comfortable. Gentlemen, if you'd..." he gestured at his jeep, and the two boys flanking her gripped her arms tightly as they half-dragged, half-shoved her towards it. He followed after them, helping lift her into it as she kicked and writhed. They made fast work of her, pinning her spread limbs down roughly. Logan exchanged words with one of the boys standing by, and then climbed in to the back of the car, shutting the hatch behind him.

Blaine and -- Dick Casablancas, she realized, both were groping at her breasts when Logan got in.

He tugged off his jacket, throwing it into the front seat. Veronica squirmed, desperately trying to clamp her legs together, or escape the rough touches.

"Don't look so frightened, Ronnie. This is going to be fun."

"God damn you, Logan." She tried looking away from him, but found herself staring into the shadowy faces of other leering teenage boys.

Logan didn't seem to hear her. The other hands fell back when he slid between her legs, and he leaned in close, fingers touching her hair and then sliding down to her chest.

"Sweet little Veronica Mars," he murmured. There was something dark that flashed in his eyes as he stared down at her; his fingers were frighteningly calm on the buttons of her shirt. "You were always so innocent. Duncan just loved that about you."

Veronica twisted her arms, vainly trying to get some leverage. She knew it was pointless - even if she could break free of the boys holding her, she wouldn't get away from Logan, or the ones standing guard outside. There wasn't any fighting her way out of this one. She was trapped.

Logan's hands were inside of her shirt now, ripping down her bra and gripping, hard, at her breasts. He smirked down at her as he raked his nails across her nipples, and she arched her back in pain, breath hitching.

"Aw, do you like that? Get a load of this, she's into it. If we'd have known you were such a whore, we wouldn't have bothered knocking you out last time."

His mouth clamped down over hers, and she could feel his tongue, hot and hard, against her lips. One hand moved up to grip her jaw, prying it open; when she finally relented, he slid his tongue deep into her mouth and dropped himself down on top of her, his cock pressed obscenely against her inner thigh. She snapped her teeth down against his mouth as he began to grind, causing him to jump backwards in surprise. She could see blood on his lips; he touched his fingers to them and looked down at their reddish sheen.

"Am I being too nice? You want it a little more rough?" There were laughs from all around her. "You might just regret doing that, Ronnie."

"I sincerely doubt it," she said through clenched teeth.

Logan slid his hands up her legs, shoving her skirt up. She was wearing black panties, the kind with a satiny sheen to them. He chuckled as he fingered her through them. "Baby! Were you expecting me? These couldn't possibly be for that Keystone Kop you're seeing."

She shut her eyes, a savagely red flush hitting her face. He must have heard about that from Duncan. Or Meg. It didn't matter, really. He was going to torment her about it.

"I wonder what he'd say if he could see you like this." He ripped the panties to the side, jamming two fingers into her. "Yeah, you didn't tell him about last time, did you? Afraid he might think you were used? Not so tough when you can't remember who fucked you silly."

He slid another finger in her, stretching and scraping as he pumped them in and out. She squirmed, but there wasn't any direction to move in except up, straight into his touch. It took all the strength she had to not start crying, to open her eyes and glare at him. She didn't want to be weak, she didn't want to submit to this.

He yanked his fingers out of her in one fluid motion, nodding at one of his friends. Someone passed him a foil packet, and Veronica felt any vague sense of hope she might have had about the situation fizzle away.

"Formalities," he said, playfully wrinkling his nose at her. "You understand, of course. Wouldn't want to leave anything incriminating behind."

She heard more than saw the wrapper open, and then suddenly he was shoving himself into her, firm and unmercifully large. She could feel a sob wrenching from her lips even as she willed herself to be calm, tears springing in her eyes at the sudden white-hot pain. She wasn't a virgin, no, but without any real preparation or, hell, consent, she might as well have been one. The condom had some kind of lubricant on it that made it a little easier, but not by much. Logan didn't seem to notice her flinch, sliding in to the hilt and then back out again.

"Jesus, she's tight."

There were snickers from either side of her, and Logan grinned down at her as he thrust in again.

"Haven't you been with anyone else, Veronica? Have you been saving yourself?" His face leaned in close to hers; she could feel his hair brush her forehead. "Do you remember me every time someone else touches you?"

"The nice thing about a roofie," she snapped, "is that you don't remember anything, you fucking moron."

The humor slipped out of his smile, but he was still baring his teeth at her as his hand moved down to her cunt. He slid a finger against her clitoris, lightly and slowly, and she shuddered. "Oh, don't," she whispered. "No."

"She's getting wet," he exclaimed. "You little slut, you really do like it."

The laughter and cat-calls came from all around. Her cheeks burned with humiliation, her eyes squeezing shut against an onslaught of tears. She couldn't force herself to ignore the sensations of his fingers, she couldn't tell herself that that it was bad, she couldn't stop the fact that desire was actually plucking through her. "I hate you," she said, and he laughed.

"Nah. Not as much as you want to." He leaned back, surveying the image of her - held down spread-eagle, her pink skirt bunched at her hips and her bra tugged down around her ribs. And his cock sliding in and out of her tiny pink pussy. "You remember all the birthday parties--" he thrust in, hard, "--and the study groups--" another thrust, "and the double dates. Don't you?" He leaned down, and his mouth was wet and warm against her neck, his voice just under her ear. "You remember when we were best friends."

She was silent, her gaze focused on the yellowish light directly above her head. Logan was relentless in his touches, his harsh thrusts, his drawling little whispers. She could still taste his blood and spit in her mouth, feel his nails on her breasts, his fingers around her throat.

"I remember Lilly," she finally said. Logan stiffed at that and, by the look on his face, came. She was fleetingly grateful just then for the condom he was wearing, for the fact she didn't have to feel that inside of her. Twin spots of red appeared at his cheekbones, and he moved in her one more time before pulling out, zipping up, and sitting back. He was surprisingly winded for how quiet he had been while fucking her.

"Sit her up," he finally said.

"Isn't it our turn?" Dick asked, a whine in his voice. "I want to give it to this slut ri--"

"No," Logan interrupted, eyeing her. He seemed to be regaining his breath and his composure. "You don't get to fuck her." He smiled pleasantly at Veronica. "You've been all mine this long, I don't see any point in changing that. Isn't it romantic, Veronica?"

"Fuck you," she spat. He was amazed of how defiant she managed to look, even after all that.

"And so insatiable! Sorry, sweetheart, I'm a little tired right now, but don't worry. We'll find you again."

He made a motion at his lackeys to take her to the hatch of the jeep, and Dick looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious? You're going to keep all that to yourself?"

"Shut up, Dick." There was a frosty edge in his voice now. "We'll go cruise around Pan and find you some bitch to play with all night. No sense in keeping--" he turned to her, making a sweeping gesture, "the girl detective any longer than necessary. You never know who might come looking for her." Logan pinched her nose affectionately, then slapped her across the face. Blood trickled down from the corner of her mouth.

Dick and Blaine both muttered epithets, but they followed directions, dragging her to the door. Logan jumped out first, and the boys who had been outside -- going through the contents of her car, she realized -- hooted with laughter as she was tossed out behind him.

"Hey, Mars," leered Taylor James. She had caught cheating off her math exam in sixth grade. "Have fun?"

"You don't mind if I borrow these, do you, Ronnie?" A heavier-set boy she didn't recognize held aloft a stack of CDs. "Yeah, I didn't think so." They laughed amongst each other as they clambered back into their truck.

Logan tossed her against the side of her LeBaron, smiling easily, and stepped up on the back of his jeep. He waggled a finger at her as the engine roared on. "Don't stay out too late now, Veronica. It's a school night."

He blew her a kiss, and the jeep peeled away, back into the darkness of the night.