Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars, the characters, story lines or anything related to the television show.

Many thanks to Steenbeans for being more than a Beta. Your constant encouragement and friendship made me want to see this through. Otherwise ... well, you know what would have happened. I hope I make you proud.

It has often been said that we are defined by the choices we make. This has never been more evident than in the case of Veronica Mars. What would happen if she could see the consequences of seemingly small choices and how they would change her life? Who gets that kind of opportunity? She does.

Choices: How to make a life - Chapter One - The Road

The cafeteria was spinning. She couldn't make it stop. Blurring bodies, tables and activity circled around Veronica. All she could do was stare back and forth between Logan's retreating form, Piz's curious and somewhat confused expression and Gory as he struggled to get off the cafeteria floor.

Questions, accusations, doubts and still more questions flooded her mind. How did my life get so screwed up? She pondered this with a dazed expression for what seemed like hours, but what was in actuality less than a minute. Suddenly, shaking her head and smiling a bit, the old Veronica spirit kicked in. "I c-can't do this now," she stuttered to no one in particular. Fight or flight. Flight usually won out. Veronica pivoted toward the food court and made her way past the throngs of students; almost running out the employee exit. She never looked back.

Three weeks later

"Hey, Dad." She walked through the small lobby and peered around the open door to Keith Mars' office.

"Hey," he responded without looking up from the file he read. Glancing up from his desk, Keith noticed her blank expression. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know, same ol', same ol'," she attempted, knowing he wouldn't buy it.

The days and weeks since "the drama," as she now called the cafeteria scene (and all the angst surrounding her brief exploration into the inner workings of The Castle), had put a strain on their relationship. Veronica loved the easy, bantering conversations she'd always shared with her father. She missed the ease and comfort of that not-too-distant past. It's funny, she thought humorlessly to herself. I couldn't see how good things really were just a few weeks ago.

While neither of them would face jail time as a result of her less-than-above-board investigation into the secretive organization, and Keith's less-than-legal action to protect her, the whole mess hadn't just cost him the election and a job he'd loved; it had brought awkwardness and tension back into their relationship yet again.

"Are you all packed and ready to go?" he asked with more enthusiasm than seemed entirely natural.

"Yeah, about that -" she started.

"Don't even think about it, Veronica."

While they had mostly embraced small talk during the past few weeks, one topic had surfaced over and over. But Veronica had run out of witty barbs on the subject a week ago and just sounded sad as she made her case. "Dad, the truth is that I'm not even sure this is what I want anymore. I need to be here." I owe you that much, she finished in her mind.

"Veronica -" he began with a sigh. It wasn't just his normal sigh of exasperation; it was coupled with the accompanying forehead rub and head shake that told her he was more than a little tired of talking to her about this. "We've been over this every day for the last three weeks. You staying here, wasting away your summer and giving up on the first completely good thing that has happened to you in a very long time is not the right answer. I can't force you to go, Veronica. But I can honestly tell you that I will be very disappointed if you give this up for me, or for any other man in your life right now."

She'd been bobbing her head mechanically as she listened to him repeat the same chorus she'd heard dozens of times now. But her head shot up at his last sentence; that part was new.

"You think this is about him? Seriously, Dad, that's what you think?" Her tone was steady, but her eyes were already darting back and forth looking for every nonverbal cue she could find as she stepped closer to his desk. "Because this is not about him," she insisted.

Keith looked at her and smiled.

"Veronica, I really hope it's not. You're not even dating him. Wait, are you?" He smiled again.

"Dad." She returned his smile. Maybe things are better after all.

"I'm just saying that, as far as I know, you're in a committed relationship with someone else. Piz, right? And yet, I'm pretty sure that Logan is the first name you thought of when I mentioned the men in your life."

Maybe things aren't better after all. Veronica couldn't stop her shoulders from slumping.

"The last time I checked," Keith continued, "the only one you ever refer to as 'him' with that much passion is Logan. This concerns me. This makes me question my brilliant daughter's judgment of late."

She knew that her Dad wasn't really arguing with her about her dating relationships. He was worried about her in general. And, he was trying to sound more confident in his knowledge of her personal life than he really was. He didn't believe what she told him anymore. It just confirmed the fact that her actions a few weeks ago really had damaged their relationship, and the trust they shared; the trust she'd worked so hard to rebuild since last year when she helped Duncan and baby Lilly.

"I'm not judging you, Veronica. I'm really not. I know you two have a lot of history. So much has happened to the both of you, and often together. You will probably always have a connection. But you're at that age where choices start to really matter and have life-long consequences. This is your chance to decide what you really want your life to look like. I don't want you to miss it."

"Whoa, Pops, hold up. What happened to the 'Oh, the places you will go,' pep talk we had scheduled for today? This feels a little too heavy for the Dr. Seuss seminar I signed up for."

Keith grinned at her but continued his train of thought. "We'll reschedule that. I'm serious, Veronica. Up until now you've spent a lot of time in an almost reactionary mode." He held up a hand for her to let him continue. "Not by choice. I get that. I know you often had to be." The names Leanne, Lilly, Aaron, Duncan, Cassidy, Mercer and Moe blew through the room, changing the air, and they both knew that others had now been invited into their space and into their discussion.

Keith moved around his desk and toward her as his voice became soft and loving. "Even more than whether you pursue a career with the FBI, this really is about choices. You still have them, Veronica. You have plenty of them." He paused and looked at her closely. "You can't just let life happen to you, sweetheart. I know you know that." He pointed at the chairs in front of her desk and they both sat down gingerly.

So much for light and easy banter, Veronica thought as she settled into the worn chair.

"We never talk about her, Veronica." Her father's voice was barely above a whisper as he continued his thought. "Maybe we should have."

"Dad, please don't read more into this than there is," Veronica pleaded. "This isn't about my epically tragic love life." Epic? Where had that come from? And why did that word always make me want to throw up? "I promise this isn't about Logan or Piz or Mom, or any other topic more suited for an episode of Oprah. This is just about me reevaluating my goals and dreams. Isn't that what us crazy college kids are supposed to do during these carefree days of higher learnin'?"

He wasn't taking the bait. "I never saw how unhappy she was with her choices, Veronica, until it was too late. I'm pretty sure that her regret over the road or roads not taken is what led to her drinking, and her ... ." He stopped, but the words 'leaving,' 'abandonment' and 'betrayal' floated through her mind; she steeled herself for more of this uncharacteristically serious discussion.

He continued, even though he saw her discomfort with the topic. "Just think about it over the summer. Think about your choices, Veronica. Take this opportunity because that's truly what this is. And I know that you still want it."

Attempting to bring levity back into their conversation, Veronica rolled her eyes. She leaned over, grasped her father's hands in hers and declared dramatically, "Seriously, Dad, no more Dr. Phil for you. I mean it."

His expression never wavered and that finally disarmed her. "Alright. I'll go. But only if you promise me that you'll lay off the self-help books and psychobabble while I'm gone."

"I promise nothing," he said as he drew her into a hug. "That's my girl."

Leaving Mars Investigations, Veronica mulled her dad's words over in her mind. Choices, huh? Of course I have choices. I think he's transferring his mid-life crisis concerns to me. I'm young, in college, in a somewhat stable relationship and have my whole life ahead of me. I know I have choices.

But even as she argued the point, her inner antagonist countered. Then why do I always seem to get into the same messes? Why do I always know where the door is in any room? Why am I afraid? Is this how it began for Mom? "That's ridiculous," she huffed out loud, stopping those errant thoughts in their tracks.

"And this is absolutely not about him," she bit out defensively, veering her Saturn in the complete opposite direction of the Hotel Neptune Grand.

"I need to say, 'goodbye' to my boyfriend." Her tone sounded a little hollow and defensive even to her. Amazingly, she thought, as she navigated toward the university, Piz still wanted to be her boyfriend. She had offered a clean, "we can still be friends" escape the day after the cafeteria incident, but he had refused. There was no denying that her obvious appreciation for Logan's actions that day had hurt him. It was complicated and she hadn't wanted Piz to be a casualty of her complicated life.

They'd met for breakfast the day after "the drama" in the cafeteria.

"Do you still want to be with me," Piz had asked with a grimace. Whether it was from his inward or outward pain, she wasn't sure.

She'd assured him that she did want to be with him, and was relieved that he didn't ask any additional questions that might be more difficult to answer. And that had been that.

Bidding farewell to Mac and Wallace had been hard, but saying "goodbye" to Piz was much easier than she'd thought it would be.

That's only because I know he has this amazing opportunity, and is pursuing his dreams, she told herself. At least he has dreams and ambitions, unlike ... never mind. I want to be with someone who has goals and pursues something in life. Aha, I believe that is a choice, she laughed and glanced around her crowded flight to see if anyone had noticed. Nope. Alone again. Naturally.

VMVMVMVMVMVMVMVM

Summer in Virginia with the FBI and the anonymity that she had longed for went by quickly. Before she knew it, Veronica was packing to return to Neptune.

"I never thought I would say this, Mars, but I'm really gonna miss you," her roommate joked as she hugged Veronica a little tighter than she normally preferred. "Who would've thought that we would bond so much, huh?"

"Yeah, we're regular sorority sisters, Jo," she quipped taking a step back toward her bed.

Joanna was a tall, lanky brunette who loved martial arts and running. Veronica's much smaller stature made them a very awkward and noticeable pair around the dorms and FBI campus.

Yet the unlikely duo had bonded; but not over shared playlists, makeup or fashion in their dorm rooms. They'd forged a friendship rooted in a shared love of complex cases with juicy mysteries, an interest in the criminal mind and well, kicking ass.

"I still think we were robbed," Joanna argued as she rubbed their second place combatives trophy. Handing the award to her blonde roomie, she sighed and pulled up the zipper on her duffel bag.

"Well, we know the truth and so do all those guys," Veronica gloated, remembering the recent tournament. She set the trophy on her bed. Veronica and her roommate, affectionately known as Jo, were two of only three female interns in the 37-member summer class. So they'd decided to make up for their lack of size and strength with attitude and determination.

Throughout the 12-week program, they'd sized up all the other interns and talked about every aspect of the cases they heard about and potential life as FBI agents. In addition to earning impressive near-victories during physical challenges, they'd caught the attention of their supervisors and peers alike. Both had been encouraged to consider a future with the agency. Joanna was a senior and planned to apply to the FBI in the spring. Veronica had refused to commit so far.

"So, do you think you'll be back?" her roommate asked her without looking up from the luggage tags she was filling out on the dorm room desk.

"I still don't know," Veronica said vaguely. "I've been thinking a lot about that. Actually, I've been thinking about a lot of things lately." Veronica was thankful that her distracted friend didn't look up from her project at that moment. She wasn't ready to disclose her thoughts yet; to anyone. She was afraid that doing so would reveal just how much her father's challenge had affected her this summer.

Flashback

"Just remember what we talked about, Veronica," her father whispered into her ear as he hugged her by the security checkpoint at LAX. "Life really comes down to the choices we make."

"Geez, Dad," she tried for humorous but her voice cracked a little and she only accomplished irritated. "I really need to check our Netflix queue. I don't know what you've been watching but I'm cutting you off." The rest of their goodbye time was light-hearted and consisted of promises to call, be safe and miss each other; all of which Veronica knew she could pull off.

End Flashback

Determined to focus solely on the opportunity the FBI intern program offered her, Veronica had fallen into an easily controllable pattern with Piz. They would text three or four times a week and talk every Thursday evening. Piz was steady like that. Veronica appreciated steady.

She shook her head as another memory took center stage in her thoughts. Logan. The opposite of steady. She hadn't spoken to him before she'd left California, or at all during the summer, until mid-way through the program. Her resolve had weakened after a particularly grueling week of training. An FBI profiler had selected her to publicly dissect and then he'd proceeded to out many of her more unflattering personality traits. While not the worst experience she had endured, considering her many brushes with death and danger, the profiling freak show had born a strange resemblance to the lunchtime lynchings at Neptune High she remembered so fondly.

Flashback

"Mars, why are you here," Agent Wentz asked her with an almost bored tone.

"I'm interested in justice," she said, hoping it would suffice. It didn't.

"Justice, huh? Interesting. Are you sure it's not just vengeance you're interested in? Or, maybe adrenaline? You kind of live on those two things from what I hear." His eyes locked with hers, showing her that his pretense at casual indifference was over. "You're not really a normal girl, are you? Do you know how to do normal, Mars?" he sneered.

Of course I do, she snarked back in her head. Normal used to be my watchword. Veronica realized that she'd been smirking as she'd formulated the internal retort. Uh, oh ... not good.

"Or, is it just that you really must be the most interesting, damaged or enchanting person in the room; even if that means being loathed and despised by some because of it?"

Ah, he read my file. And possibly some news clippings.

"Maybe you just feel superior to everyone else. You know, your reasons are justified, motives are more pure and all that. Are you self-righteous, Mars?" He smiled predatorily. Veronica knew he wasn't looking for an answer from her. He was merely demonstrating his belief that he, and not Veronica, was the smartest person in the room. "Do you really think this is the right line of work for a smug, holier-than-thou, bitter, judgmental hot head?"

And apparently, he's also talked to my ex-boyfriend.

End Flashback

Logan. Her figurative stoning in the town square left her thinking of him, and wondering if Agent Wentz might have been channeling Logan somehow. She'd been exhausted, homesick, emotional and well, a little stupid. She could see that now; hindsight and all that. But that night, not so much.

Flashback

He picked up on the third ring and Veronica could hear the party in the background. She almost hung up.

Was it really so wrong to want him to be thinking of her at the same moment she was thinking of him, and to not be partying and hooking up with a steady stream of faceless and nameless bimbos? Wasn't that what epic was supposed to mean - he would wait for her, thinking only of her until she returned, no matter how many times she had told him to go away? Apparently not. It never had before.

It's not like I care, she told herself. She just didn't appreciate the inconsistency.

Twisting a section of her hair and drawing an audible breath, Veronica jumped in with a profound, "Hey."

Logan laughed gently. "Veronica. Let me go somewhere more quiet," he told her. She could make out muffled laughter, music and then the ocean before she heard his voice again. "So, how are you? I'm a little surprised to hear from you."

"Yeah, I'm a little surprised, too," she said softly. They were both silent for a few seconds.

"Not to sound antagonistic, Veronica, but why are you calling? I thought you needed time, space, etcetera, etcetera before we could talk, try to be friends or whatever. At least that's my PG-translation of our last few conversations."

"I know. I did. I mean, I do. But, I just needed ... I mean ... oh geez, Logan, I probably shouldn't have called."

"O.k."

O.k. ... really? So much for epic.

"O.k., so I guess I'll go."

"Veronica, did you need something. Is everything o.k.? You're still at that FBI thing, right?" His voice wavered between frustration and curiosity.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. I just had a rough week and was thinking about some things and wanted to ... um, ask you something." No you don't, her inner voice screamed. Just ask how he is doing and hang up.

"O.k., I guess I can handle a Veronica question. It has been a while. Wait." She heard him gulp down a large amount of liquid and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head with an audible sigh of frustration.

"It has always been oh-so-flattering that you have to have just one more ounce of liquid courage before you can talk to me, Logan."

"Well, first of all, you called me, so you should be nicer. Secondly, I'm drinking water. But honestly, if I did feel the need for a stiff drink before you launch into me, even from thousands of miles away, could you really blame me? We don't exactly have the best track record at this, you know."

"I guess thats kind of what I wanted to talk about," she said tentatively. "Do you ... do you think that I'm ..."

"Oh, no," he drug out both syllables as he interrupted her. "Stop right there. There is no way I'm answering any questions about what you are or aren't. I'm not crazy. Hold on. Is this some FBI project?"

Veronica caught herself biting her lip. Logan would know she was doing it. He always teased her about that particular habit. He said it was sexy. That's the last thing I need to be thinking about in this conversation.

"Find some other poor guy for this one."

His laugh had just a bit of an edge as he continued. "I'm sure there are several there who have already fallen prey to your dubious charms and would be more than willing to do your bidding; maybe even answer your inane questions. Now, if you want to hear about my completely frivolous summer vacation, that is totally doable."

"Logan, I'm serious," she persisted even as she humored him with a small laugh. "It's just that this profiler guy said some things and I don't want to believe him. I mean it's not how I see myself, but I think it might be how you see me."

Logan seemed hesitant, but unable to resist asking her, "Why do you care how I see you? You said you wanted me out of your life." He ended his statement softer than he began, but Veronica still thought his tone was a little harsh.

"I've said a lot of things over the years, Logan, and that's the one you're going to hold on to?" She tried to sound playful. She was pretty sure she just sounded sad.

"Oh, I remember everything you've said to me over the years, and even some things you haven't said." Veronica could tell he was fighting back his anger and she could almost see him running his hand through his hair at the end of his last comment. "You seemed particularly resolute this time," he breathed out.

She sighed, smiled uncertainly and steered the conversation back to his completely frivolous summer vacation. He seemed relieved, and they talked for a full hour before Veronica told him she had to go.

End Flashback

While that conversation hadn't netted the answers she'd hoped for, it had reestablished a tenuous connection with Logan. For that, she was grateful. As hurt and angry as she had been after his meaningless sex (that had been way-too-meaningful to her) with Madison and brutal beating of Piz, Veronica really hadn't wanted to completely eradicate their friendship. She had lost too many people from her life already. So had Logan.

He made the first move after their conversation. He texted her the following Tuesday, requesting her opinion on his voicemail quotation of the day. She'd responded with a sarcastic critique; and so began the slow, winding road back toward friendship.

" ... I'm serious, though. How could one FBI hoodie, a mug and two magnets make my bags impossible to zip?" Joanna had obviously continued their conversation during Veronica's trip down memory lane.

"Hmm? Yeah, I know what you mean. Souvenirs for my dad alone have completely taken over one of my bags. But, he's so whiny when I don't bring home baseball paraphernalia." She pulled out her imaginary pad and pencil. "Washington Nationals pennant? Check. Baltimore Orioles bobble head? Check," she joked.

Father's forgiveness for ruining his career and destroying his trust? I hope so, she mused.

Saying "goodbye" and closing out her time with the FBI went by in a flash; and before she knew it, Veronica was settling in to her flight back to Neptune. She was a little apprehensive.

Who am I kidding, she mocked herself, I'm way beyond "a little apprehensive." Taking her dad's words to heart, Veronica did some major soul-searching and honest exploration during the summer.

She had made some really big, tough decisions and was already feeling stronger and more empowered. But going back to Neptune made her a little unsure.

This is who I am, Veronica told herself over and over. How did I become that other person? That's easy, she reminded herself; murder, rape, mayhem, cruelty and betrayal had been her teachers. But she was more determined than ever to overrule those influences and change the course of her life, one choice at a time.

Her lips formed into a slight smile as she adjusted herself against a makeshift pillow and leaned into the window on her cross-country flight. Since when am I so optimistic? Veronica asked herself as she drifted off to sleep.

The descent was a rocky one, and the turbulence jolted her awake. The safety-conscious flight attendant quickly insisted that she raise her seat back to its full and upright position.

Time to face the music, she told herself, feeling a bit less optimistic than before.

Making her way toward baggage claim, Veronica took a deep breath. She adjusted the hem of her shirt, fixed her smile and walked toward the luggage carousels. There he was, leaning against a column and waiting for her. Her smile widened and became completely genuine. It's so good to see you.

- To be continued -