A/N: I do not own Veronica Mars. If I did I wouldn't be on Fan Fiction.

I have read a lot of stories and reviewed some. This is my first attempt. I know its hard, but if you like it, please review. Be honest. I want to improve my writing.

Logan still drinks when he gets angry and upset.

He drives to the local bar and orders a drink. Sue, the barmaid, can recognise the signs. He will not get handed his drink until he has handed over his keys.

Even though he is older, his looks and charm has not diminished in any way. He still attracts the women. Sue will keep an eye on them as Logan buys them drinks, pulling out his black platinum card with his old arrogance.

He still thinks this is why they stay at the bar with him.

His money.

When he catches his reflection in the bar, he sees the black circles under his eyes, the creases of wrinkles and the increase of weight he is sure he is carrying.

But when he runs his hand through his hair (a move he still does instinctively when he is nervous or in trouble – which lately seems to be all the time), it is still thick and silky. He is not sure if he is happy about that.

The peroxide blonde that attached herself to him after her first glance of his credit card is running her hands through it as she presses her silicon enhanced chest into his face. Part of him wishes she would just leave him alone, but she had chased away the other women who had been interested, including a fan of his 'Daddy Dearest', with a couple of 'bitchy' remarks.

He downs another shot.

And another.

She starts rubbing her chest more vigorously against his arm.

Logan downs a third shot in as many minutes.

Sue comes over to collect the empty glasses.

"Do you need a lift home?"

Logan leaves the bar about 20 minutes later with a tall blonde.

Sue comforts the bleached blonde left at the bar.

"Dude, why?"

Logan leans back against the seat of Dick's truck. The lights of the passing cars are making him feel slightly sick, or maybe it is the memory of why he is in this state.

"I can't do this! I will stuff it up. The books all say different things. I will be like him. I forgot the pickles. What if I am like him? I'm not ready" Logan yells, all of his worries just flooding out in a jumble of words.

Dick pulls over and looks at him.

"Dude. Listen to me. No one is ever ready. I wasn't ready. I don't think I will ever think I am ready for this. And I stuff it up all the time. But I have people ready to help me fix up my mistakes. And you are not like your father. Never have been and never will be. You have never made yourself the number one person in your universe."

Logan stares at Dick. In the street light it appears that he has a halo of light around his hair. His dumb, goofy but loyal best friend (Logan admits to himself that Duncan lost himself that title years ago) is proving himself worthy of that title with some heartfelt wisdom.

"But I might be. I still have my anger issues."

"I have never seen you get angry with Cassie, even when she drew that picture of you with the boobs".

"I did not have boobs in that picture! And how could I get angry at her for drawing a picture of me?"

"She drew it with permanent marker on you lounge room wall. Most people would have yelled at her, hell, I would have yelled at her. Instead you had to be talked out of framing it. If I hadn't pointed out she drew you with boobs, you may have left it there".

"I did not have boobs!"

"Mate, give up. My daughter has you wrapped around her finger."

"But she is a girl"

"My son, who throws up on everyone but you, obviously prefers you."

Logan frowns. His face scrunches up.

"And mate, if Veronica wanted the pickles to put on top of her ice cream again, I'm glad you forgot them. That shit is going to give your baby two heads or something!"

Logan can't help himself and chuckles. He guesses he is being a bit silly. Dick gestures to the house they have pulled up in front of.

"Look, she has kept the front light on for you. Guess she is expecting you. Go apologise and I'll catch up with you tomorrow to surf".

Logan heads up the front path. He still drinks when he is angry and upset... but he is working on it.