The last couple of weeks had been somewhat difficult for Veronica. From her recent break up, keeping up in classes to spending time with friends and solving cases. Lately, keeping busy seemed to be all she did. She didn't want to stay in one place too long or she'd start thinking about Logan. So she'd taken on more cases than usual and asked all her teachers for extra credit work. And after catching her vigorously cleaning the whole house, her father thought that maybe it was time to have a talk. "I've been where you are, Veronica." He told her one morning at breakfast. "Burning yourself out won't help." He was probably right, but Veronica hardly took her fathers advice. She soon found out he wasn't the only one trying to slow her down. Her friends constantly pestered her about 'taking it easy'. She chalked it up to them not understanding. The only person who really understood her was Weevil; he even helped her when she asked. On this particular day, Veronica found herself searching for him in the Hearst cafeteria; that and she was a bit hungry. It was close to his lunch hour and she'd thought to start looking for him there. If truth be told, she didn't really need his help the case was simple enough, but she liked having him around. She felt better having someone listen to her problems rather than try to solve them for her. And that's just what he did, listened, unlike everyone else.

"Looking for someone?" Veronica turned to find Weevil sitting at a table behind her. How did she manage to walk right past and not see him sitting there?

"You, actually."
"Which means you need a favor."

"Half of the fee," Veronica said, as she placed her tray on the table and took a seat. "That's all I can offer."

"I've worked for less." Weevil stated with a slight raise of his brow. "Half sounds fair." Veronica was glad he had a certain sweet spot reserved for her. It meant that he usually said 'yes' before finding out all the details. It's been like that since high school, since the first time Veronica helped Weevil get out of jail.

"His name is Sam Daniels, and after spending some time on the web, I've come to find that he's a pretty wealthy guy." She noticed the way his ears perked up at the sound of 'wealthy', but she chose not to acknowledge it. "Anyway, he suspects his bride to be, Stacy Montgomery, is cheating. He's already been to two other investigators and neither one could get the money shot he needs to confirm this suspicion."

"So he thought he'd try his luck with everyone's favorite blonde detective?"

"For your information, he actually wanted my dad, but as usual he's off in some other state trying to catch a runaway." Veronica picked up her Peach Snapple and attempted to open it but the cap wouldn't budge. "Their wedding is set to happen next Saturday, which gives us two weeks. I'm hoping to have this done by at least Wednesday."

"You mean the day after tomorrow?" Weevil asked, taking the bottle from her hands and opening it with ease. "Why so soon?"

"Do you know what happens when people call off their wedding at the last minute? Complete chaos. Trust me the sooner we do this, the better." They continued to discuss matters of the case and a plan of execution as they finished lunch. They left the cafeteria side by side, easily falling into step with each other. Before she knew it, they were standing in front of her next class. After a little prying, Veronica got him to agree to meet her after she finished class. For some reason English Lit seemed much longer than it generally did. Her professor seemed more boring than he normally was. She listened, took notes and counted how many ticks from the clock until this dreary lecture was over. The moment they were dismissed, she called Weevils cell, he didn't answer. She tried again, but still no answer. This didn't really surprise her though; he usually didn't answer his phone when he was hard at work. She found him after ten minutes of searching, in the library fussing over a thermostat. She made her way towards him, passing a table of girls who were boldly watching him as he worked. One of them finally noticed Veronica and leaned closer to the others to whisper something. She paid no attention to them as she pulled herself onto a table next to him, swinging her feet back and forth. "You're being watched."

His face showed no real concern for the matter. "By who?"

"A couple of giggling girls." She offered him some water, which he drank in four gulps. "Two blondes and a red head."

A slight smile formed on his face. "Sarah, Karen and Liz."

"A fan club? Awesome! Where do I sign up?"

He was so use to her sarcasm it didn't phase him anymore. "I helped them change a tire the other day. Haven't stopped following me since."

Veronica automatically slid a little closer to him. "Want me to get rid of 'em?"

"Down girl," he said, reaching across her to grab his screwdriver.

"You sure?" she asked, busying herself with brushing her hand across his shoulder and down his arm. "It doesn't really take much."

"V."

"Fine. What time are you off?"

"Gimme ten minutes," he said, concentrating on the task at hand.

"No rush. I'm a patient woman." She pulled her phone from her bag just as it began to vibrate. The screen revealed it was a text message from Mr. Daniels. 'Left fifteen minutes ago, said she had errands to run,' was all it said. "I've got some calls to make," she hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder. "I'll meet you out front." The sun beamed on Veronica the moment she was outside. Not finding any shaded spots available, she sat at one of many benches decorating the front of the school. From the way Mr. Daniels described Stacy, Veronica had to assume she was pretty snobbish and wouldn't accept anything less than one of the most luxurious rooms at the Neptune Grand so she put a call in to April, her informant at the hotel. During their brief conversation, April informed her that there was one guest who she was apprehensive about, "Young maybe about twenty-five, blonde, snooty, checks in alone, but orders food for two, only pays in cash and she's here at least five days out of the week. She's been coming here for the past two months."

"What name did she give you?" A shadow loomed over her, but she ignored it.

"Hold on." Veronica could hear the sound of tapping on computer keys. "Samantha Miller, she's in room 302."

"Veronica?" came the voice in front of her. To her surprise, it was Logan. Damn, he looked terrible. The distressed look upon his face told her that he hadn't gotten much sleep, his clothes looked slept in. He didn't even have a backpack with him, which probably meant he wasn't attending classes. She had to admit a small part of her was glad he was going through it, wallowing, regretting. Good! You deserve worse!

"Veronica, are you still there?" asked April.

"Yeah. Thanks, I'll talk to you later," she said into the phone before disconnecting. This is one of those moments everyone dreaded, talking to your ex, an actual exchange of words after the breakup. Her hands were starting to shake, she was nervous. She shoved her hands in her back pockets, took a deep breath and looked him straight in the face. "Before you attempt to say anything else, I have something I need to say. It's extremely difficult for me to look at you without imagining things you've done with Madison. We are officially over, there will never be an 'us' again and things can never go back to the way they were." Logan looked like he was about to cry and it almost made her want to cry, but she promised herself she wouldn't do it in front of him again. Besides, there were way too many people around to have a complete breakdown so she pushed on. "Time and space, Logan, that's all I'm asking. You at least owe me that much." She turned and quickly walked towards Weevil, who was patiently waiting a little ways away.

"You okay?" he asked when she reached him.

"Uh-huh. Why don't you drive?" she tossed her car keys to him and climbed in the passenger seat. She waited until they were pulling out the parking lot to finally look out her window. Just as she suspected, Logan was still standing at the front of the school, a pitiful look on his face. Standing as stiff as a statue, as if her words had embedded him to that exact spot.

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