DISCLAIMER: Veronica Mars and the show's other character are the property of Rob Thomas and UPN.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
It was hot. Hot, but very windy, as it was apt to be at the beach. The sun shone brightly overhead, casting its brilliant rays all around. It was a pleasant sort of heat, though; not the unbearable kind that made you want to strip down to your bare skin, but the kind that allowed warmth to play on your skin and through your clothes. The sound of waves in the distance was calming Calming, and soothing. And Veronica? Well, Veronica was lying on the balcony floor, basking; basking in the warm rays of the sunlight and the fuzzy feeling of afterglow.
She lay there silently with her eyes closed for a minute or so, taking in the sounds and smells of her surroundings, one of her palms lightly tracing the wooden floorboards under her, careful so as not to get a splinter, while the other lay carelessly across the bridge of her nose, blocking the sunlight from her eyes. If one didn't know better, one would think that she were having a headache, or a dilemma she was trying to work through. This, of course, wasn't true at all.
The creaking of the floorboards was what made her aware that someone else had now joined her on the deck, and even without looking, she instantly knew who it was. Because suddenly the air around her felt lighter and even fresher than it already was, and her heart was beating ten thousand beats a minute. Her lips quirked upwards in a smile, and she patted the ground next to her in invitation. There was more creaking, and Veronica felt the floorboards sink slightly as Meg lay down next to her.
Veronica lifted her arm off her eyes and shifted to face Meg, her cheek now resting on the wood. She could feel a few long blonde strands, blonde strands that belonged to Meg, tickle her nose and cheek, and couldn't help but grin slightly in response. She shifted again, this time avoiding Meg's hair, and let out a sigh when she was done. "You know," she started, "I didn't know South Carolina had such pretty beaches."
Meg laughed, lightly and airily, as though that was the cutest thing anyone could ever have said. She scooted closer to Veronica, one hand reaching out, reaching out to trace circles on one of the other girl's thighs, slowly but steadily inching upwards.
At that simple action, at that simple laugh, Veronica suddenly realized that she needed Meg, needed her like she hadn't needed anyone else before, needed her as though she would never get to have her again. She felt rather protective of the girl in front of her, but with that protectiveness came a sort of frenzy; she didn't know what she'd do without Meg, and it scared her. And with an uncertainty uncharacteristic of her, Veronica asked, "You won't go, will you?"
But Meg seemed to be too distracted with the circles she was trailing, too distracted with the zipper that was right where her hand was, and she didn't reply. Veronica repeated the question again, worried, but Meg only smiled at her and that would have to do. So she acquiesced with a relieved giggle, allowing Meg to tug at her jeans, though not before she quipped, "Again?"
She rolled over to a more comfortable position, still giggling and landed on cold, hard floor. Confused, she sat up suddenly, rubbing her head where she'd hit it in the process of falling and looking around wildly. Because instead of seeing the South Carolina beach and feeling the South Carolina breeze, Veronica was seeing the darkness and feeling the emptiness of her Californian room.
But beyond all that, beyond the pain of suddenly waking up and realizing she was alone, realizing that it had all been a dream was the sharp pain she felt when she realized that she had to come to terms with reality, because she was missing Meg and Meg was never coming back.
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