Chapter 1: Assignment

Its late morning in a newsroom. People are gathered around the large conference table which has papers strewn across it. There is a large man at the head of the table, an unlit cigar between his teeth. After nodding to a clipboard in front of him, he motioned for the woman holding it to leave. His attention is then turned back to the room and his eyes focus on a petite blonde woman in a black business suit.

"Mars!" he bellowed, removing the cigar from his mouth. "Nice job on the Colton & Walters story. Is the district attorney done with you in the trial?"

Sitting up straight, the woman pulled out a portfolio from her briefcase. "All done, boss-man. You got another story for me?"

"There's some rich kid in California. Accused of using the family yacht to pick up drugs and distributing in his school. I want the whole story. Why they've started questioning him, what proof is there, etc. You're from Cali, know the scene." The man responded, returning the cigar to his mouth. Raking his eyes across the room, he slammed his hand on the table then pointed to a brunette on the other side of the table. "Take… Pender with you on this job. Show her how to work on picture quality. That last story of hers had adequate writing, but the visuals were shoddy."

Addressing the whole room now, he raised his voice. "Ladies and Gentleman! Why do I have this job as editor of The Chicago Sun?" Walking up to the wall, he tapped his knuckles against the large lettering of the paper mounted in bronze.

"Because your father had the cash to buy it?" one of the men asked, leaning against the doorframe as he came in with coffee.

Smiling, the editor shot the new arrival with his thumb and forefinger. "That and the fact that I have a vision! A plan for making the Sun a force to be reckoned with in the newspaper industry!" Walking along the wall, he ran his hands over the framed front pages that adorned it. He turned around and returned to the head of the table. "Why should I pay for both photographers and writers? Why should I have to when there are people capable of doing both? Answer: I shouldn't. This is why I have hired you people! All of you can write, and most can take pictures. Those who can't are being taught how to.

"This should make you happy. By not paying for photographers separately, you have higher wages to show. Don't tell me any of you are unhappy about having the nice apartments and pocket change. Also, this way there is one byline for you!"

Rolling his eyes, the man who arrived late spoke again. "You're the only one with a nice apartment and pocket change here, boss. The rest of us are still getting paid a reporters' salary." Chuckles could be heard around the room.

"You'd be getting paid more if you showed up on time, Shapiro." The editor said good naturedly, as the chuckles returned. "Pack your bags, buddy. You're joining Mars and Pender in Cali."

"Why can't it be a one-person job, Max?" the man asked. "I can take the pictures and write the story myself."

Piping up, Veronica smirked. "Because I'm prettier." Laughter rippled through the room, and even Max let out a 'hah!'

Turning again to the room, the editor went into leader-mode again. "She's part right, you know. There is a reason I send both sexes when you're needed out of Chi-town. Keep this in mind, folks! There are people in America that respond more to women- others to men. My experience has been that when I send only men into the field, I get less information than if I had sent a woman with him. Females have learned, or so my wife tells me; how to manipulate people for the best possible outcome. Something about high school- whatever, I didn't listen to the whole thing. Anyway… I send you in teams so that if you run into a chauvinist or a woman who hates other women, a man is available to ask the questions! In a social scene, a female persuasion may be necessary!"

"Alright, that's it. You all know your assignments. Go out and find me a story!" Max waved his hands, dismissing the group. "Mars, Pender, Shapiro- stay here, I've got the background."

The rest of the writers vacate the conference room. Veronica and the brunette got up from their chairs and walked up to their boss. Turning to the other woman, Veronica stuck out her hand.

"I'm Veronica Mars. It seems like we're going to be working together. Where are you from?"

Shaking the offered hand, the woman smiled. "Alexis Pender. Don't call me Lexi. I'm from Asheville, North Carolina. Went to Duke, majored in Journalism. Nice to meet you."

"Now that those sweet introductions are over with, could you two come up here and get acquainted with the story?" Max asked, smiling.

Walking towards the editor, Veronica grinned. "You're the one who wanted to 'create a positive work environment.' I was being friendly, Max. Don't get snippy because I follow directions."

"Nice to see that you're still fiery as ever, Mars." Shapiro said. "Haven't had a chance to talk since that money laundering story. How's life?"

"Better than yours, from what I've heard. Doctor's still haven't found a way to surgically remove that rod up your ass?" the blonde questioned, winking at the man. "Everything's good, Pete."

Raising her eyebrows at the exchange, Alexis looked at Max. "Is there something I should know?"

Grinning, the editor shook his head. "No, these two are usually like this. Don't take it the wrong way- they're a good team, Mars is just being persnickety."

The two in question laughed. "Really, Alexis- it's fine. Pete and I get along, as long as there's some relief of the tension by humor." Veronica said, leaning in to look at the packet Max was holding. "You'd like him too, if he bothered to be polite and introduce himself."

"Oh, sorry." The man said, and put out his hand. "Pete Shapiro at your service Ms. Pender. Homegrown Chicago boy, stayed in town for college, married the hometown girl and can't leave the big city."

Her mouth dropping, Veronica looked astonished. "You married Nancy? Where was my wedding invitation?"

Looking sheepish, Pete dropped his head. "It was a small ceremony, Mars. Family only, Max wasn't even invited."

"Hey, no hard feelings. Weddings aren't really my thing." She said. "Alexis, you married?"

Shaking her head, Alexis smiled. "No, and I'm not really looking for a husband right now. Just got out of a bad relationship."

Coughing, Max got their attention. "The story, guys. Rich kid drug dealer. I want the scoop."

"Mark Ciotta. Of Ciotta & Newberry Publishing?" Veronica mused, questioning her boss.

Nodding, Max handed the packets to each team member. "Son of the CEO. Well, former CEO- the company was just sold for $243 million. Family lives in LA. Richie Rich has been accused of being the main source of ecstasy, oxycodone and other party drugs to in his high school. Kid's gotten started early; he's only a junior. I want photos and an inside scoop to the charges."

"Why are we chasing a junior in high school?" Pete asked. "Aren't there more important things to check up on? Like that Grassy Knoll thing still hasn't been cleared up, Jimmy Hoffa hasn't been found."

Turning towards him, Veronica put down her packet. "You'd be surprised what damage a high school junior can do. What time is the flight to LA?"

"Three-forty." Max said, and picked up his briefcase. "That leaves you guys four hours to pack and take care of anything that needs to be seen to. I don't know how long you guys will be there."

The three left the Chicago Sun offices together. They met at the airport and the flight went off without a problem. Veronica and Alexis found that they got along quite well. Pete was at wit's end trying to hold his own against the two women. In the hotel lobby, they talked about their plans for that night.

"It's Friday." Alexis said, as she put her room key away.

"Yes, the day after Thursday, yet before Saturday." Pete joked. "What's your point?"

Veronica looked over at him in disdain. "She means that this Mark Ciotta is unlikely to sit at home on a Friday. Where do you think he's going to be?"

Smiling, Alexis picked her bag up. "Get your dancing shoes on, Shapiro! We're going to a club."

"Oh no." Pete said. "I'm married. I am not going to a club. I hate clubs."

Rolling her eyes, Veronica turned to Alexis. "Feel like doing my hair? I'll let you borrow a glittery tube top if you didn't come prepared, Pete."

Laughing, the brunette nodded. "Sure, and we need to get him ready too. We'll order room service. This could take a while."