Title: Comparisons

Fandom: Veronica Mars

Pairing: Weevil/Veronica (brief mentions of Logan/Veronica and Duncan/Veronica)

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Up to 2.01 to be safe.

Word Count: 462

Notes: For the writer’s choice dizzy challenge.

>*<*>*<

Both first times Duncan kissed her – the first first time and the second first time at Java the Hutt on her eighteenth birthday – Veronica remembers feeling elation. The first time, it was because she was finally on a date with the guy she’d been nursing a crush on for months, and the world seemed like it was alive with promise.

The second first time, it was like a rebirth, as if after the hell of the previous couple of years – their break-up, Lilly’s death, her exile from 09er-dom – her life was finally getting back to normal.

The first time Logan kissed her, she remembers feeling confusion. He was her ex-boyfriend’s best friend, her dead best friend’s boyfriend, not to mention a prize jackass, and kissing him was a whole world of bad idea. But they’d kissed and she’d liked it, and it had been that more than anything else that had her running away.

The first time Weevil kisses her is very different.

She’s not a teenager any more, she’s twenty-two years old, and it’s the night before her college graduation. He takes her out for dinner, and they talk and they banter like they always have, two people whose relationship has grown from one of favour-doing and grudging respect to deep friendship, the kind you can’t imagine your life without.

After dinner and a ridiculously rich chocolate dessert that she refused to share with him, they walk along the beach. The wind whips her hair around, chills her, and she rubs her arms briskly, wishes she’d brought a cardigan. No sooner has the thought crossed her mind than he stops walking, comes around in front of her, and then his leather jacket, worn and warm, settles around her shoulders. She’s surprised, opens her mouth to say something joking, then shuts it again.

Because the moon and stars are bright in the sky, as bright and clear as his eyes are dark and serious, and he’s standing so close to her that she can feel the heat of his body. His hands are still holding the lapels of his jacket, holding it shut against her body, and she manages to say one word – his name – and then it happens.

He kisses her, and it’s not like any first kiss that she’s ever had in her life. Certainly, confusion and elation are both there, but more than those, there is confidence and passion and surety and promise and Weevil, and it’s enough to make her head spin, make her dizzy.

When he pulls back, looks at her with a question in those dark eyes, she says nothing, simply pulls him forward and kisses him again.

It still leaves her feeling dizzy, but she doesn’t care.

He’s there to catch her if she falls.