A/n: I don't know about you guys but every time I get ridiculously excited about something, it never quite works out the way I imagine it. Includes a character that is introduced in the book- she just seemed like a great victim. Anyway, thank you for reading; hope you enjoy it.


Loves me…

She had taken to counting red cars for practical purposes. Ripping out flower petals while racing down the Pacific Coast Highway seemed challenging enough without having to do with the logistics of finding a flower, so her minor modification had been much needed.

Loves me not…

The front dash registered a sweltering 106F and she had no doubts about its accuracy. Barely 10am, and her skin was covered in a sheet of sweat; the blasting AC doing nothing to ease her discomfort. It was days like these that she missed the crisp morning air of New York City, complete with pollutants and the smell of weirdoes. She had chosen to drive down to San Diego early to meet with a 'client' before sticking around to welcome Logan home.

If she were honest with herself she probably would have accepted that she was nervous. Their relationship was undefined for all intents and purposes and she wasn't quite sure he wanted any welcoming of any sort.

On the other hand she did have his car and he needed a ride back home.

Police sirens blared at a distance, and Veronica spared a quick glance at her rearview mirror before delving right back to the depths of her mind.

Loves me…

She briefly toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room. She had maybe lurked a bit in some of the army wife forums and maybe just maybe had slipped into one of the more risqué posts on repressed sexual drives and the like.

Anticipation built arousal, they said. And she shivered involuntarily at the prospect of fulfilling the many fantasies that taken root in her mind in the past six months. Nothing said welcome home like a good old fashioned make out sesh.

Except it was still tourist season and she really did not have any money to spare what with Mars Investigations and college loans sucking up every bit of her alleged funds.

And if they really couldn't keep their hands off of each other, maybe Logan would whip out that Black Amex and work its magic.

Or maybe give the cramped backseat of the M6 a whirl.

She wasn't worried.

Loves me not…

Except she was.

In a life far removed from Neptune, she had tried taking her college romance to the big apple. Technically it wasn't hard to keep in touch, at least in comparison to having someone in the armed forces, but she had chosen to be busy.

What was it, Veronica? Just couldn't be bothered? Or was he not worth it?

Still, he had put up a valiant effort, going so far as to fly cross-country twice only to be met with awkwardness.

Would it be awkward for Logan to see her?

Loves me.

No, it wasn't possible, she assured herself. They had managed it all through nine years and even seeing him in those impossibly sparkly dress whites hadn't taken much out of her but her voice.

They had fallen into their old rhythms flawlessly. He said so himself.

The sirens were getting louder. Annoyed she looked back at the mirror; still nothing.

Loves me not.

Bygones, he had said. Were they really? She mentally cursed him for not being more forthcoming. Understandably the two weeks between Gia being murdered and Logan being shipped out had been fraught with tension, anxiety over her father…nine years of missed sex.

They really hadn't had the chance to talk.

Or maybe they just hadn't wanted to have the 'talk.'

And they most definitely did not talk about anything important in their emails, biweekly skype dates or the two times that he did manage to get to a phone.

She had always been good at running away from her problems.

And he had been terrible with communication. Top secret, they said, but did it really mean no contact with your friends, family, ex-girlfriend slash possible soulmate? She really wished he had said something, anything.

Loves me…

Epic. That was the word he had used to describe them. As though that word and a throwback to an alcoholic induced overly dramatic declaration could replace a single I love you. He was getting lazy in his old age.

She shouldn't be worried.

He would probably light up at the sight of her, his eyes intense and glowing; irises training their focus on her. And she would smile in that Veronica way of hers, the corners of her lips turning slightly upward, her tongue darting out in anticipation of kisses.

Or maybe he would lift her up in his arms, spin her around and latch onto her mouth as she grabbed the short strands of his hair. She would wrap her legs around his waist, desperately reaching for that mouth that she missed so much.

The noises from the traffic were growing annoyingly louder. She liked it when her thoughts wandered into the cute. Into the romantic oasis of bliss and it plain sucked that even a peaceful moment in her head had to be interrupted by Neptune.

"Veronica Mars?"

Shaken Veronica looked skyward to the blue horizon, the sparse traffic of cars that surrounded her and wondered who would know her name. A unsettling feeling washed over her and she pushed all doubts aside choosing instead to focus on how best to jump Logan's bones without seeming overt. Ok. Too overt.

Was coy the way to go? Or perhaps she needed to be more take-charge. Their reunion could consist of two distinct possibilities, she decided. Either they would smack onto each other and end up embarrassing themselves in that cramped convertible ruining all that wonderful leather or..

Or they could stand there and be awkward and shit.

Loves me not…

Veronica frowned. Unless of course Logan was with someone else. His emails and skype sessions had deteriorated from almost every couple of days to every week to every other week to ….

She hadn't heard from him in a month.

He could be dead, and she wouldn't know. All because she wasn't family. The thought suffocated her and she decided that she preferred the option where he came in tow with a very sexy, very busty female pilot. Guys found that kinda thing hot, didn't they?

God, the ringing in her ears, coupled with the sirens.

Loves me…

And then she could hear Lilly's voice in her head. "Don't be silly Veronica. That boy has eyes for no one but you. God, those sappy looks and he's definitely not dead. Probably resurrected as a vampire somewhere in the Indian ocean. Besides, Dick would have said something."

Veronica nodded furiously while trying to avoid traffic. The lanes shifted rapidly, a wave of incoming cars merging in right as she…

She was about to crash when a shrill siren pierced through the last vestiges of her reality.

All too quickly Veronica found herself eye to eye with Norris. "Veronica Mars?" She nodded, grimacing at the blinding pain that seared through the back of her head.

"You're under arrest. Anything…"

She never heard the rest because she was back in the M6, counting red cars and assigning probabilities as the sun blazed in its summer glory.

Loves me not…

"What do you mean it's Thursday?" She demanded to know through the bars.

Dan Lamb shrugged, slicking his greasy hair back. "I really think you should be a little more worried about the fact that you were passed out next to a very dead Trish Turley."

"Trish Turley is dead?" Veronica felt her mouth run dry. They had a meeting set for the 8th, the Wednesday Logan was due to return. The back of her head pounded as she struggled to reconcile the fact that her client was dead. "And it's Thursday."

Oh god Logan. What if he thought she was pulling one of her stunts again? Or maybe he was more relieved that she hadn't showed. No responsibility. No commitment. But then he would have noticed his car missing. Great.

"And yes, the sky is blue." The sheriff grinned, "what do you think daddy dearest is going to say when I call him to come pick you up."

"Don't…" Veronica interrupted him. Her father didn't need to be rushing in here.

Yet.

"Who would you like me to call then? FYI, Trish has been through the wringer. Balboa County ME has thus far counted 36 lacerations on her face alone. " He looked oddly pleased with himself. "Seeing as how we don't need another Nancy Grace I'd say good riddance, but the rest of the world doesn't feel the same way. I don't think that ratty PI business is paying for bail this time around."

Loves me…

"I should be offended," a familiar voice broke through the haze and the lull in the holding cell. Thirty minutes with a gum-snapping woman who had been brought in for prostitution and had successfully negotiated her release with Clifford by her side, and Veronica briefly wondered if she was losing it.

"I really should. Six months fighting for the country, and she calls my best friend for a conjugal."

Laughter bubbled to her throat, and her heart hammered in excitement. It couldn't be. And yet it it was. She waited for him to appear, long legs carrying him towards the bars. She pressed up against the iron, focused on dancing eyes and a crooked smile.

It wasn't like anything she had planned, or dreamed. It was better. It was perfect.