Little Boy Lost

by ELSchaaf

Season 2 from Logan's perspective. Complete with extra scenes to fill in the blanks.

Chapter One

Blurred images danced in front of his eyes as he squinted, blinking them open. Bruised, battered, and aching, he hurt all over. 'Where the hell am I? What happened? Did I get into shit with my dad again?' He didn't think so. Usually he'd remember those things. He blinked a few times and tried to focus.

"The bikers are gone now," he heard from above him. The words broke through Logan's haze but he found himself more confused than ever. 'Bikers?'

"Are you ok? Just lay there. I called an ambulance."

As his mind cleared, he saw a man standing over him. 'A delivery truck driver?' Logan stared up at him with a blank expression, uncomprehending. He tried to process everything around him, but failed.

"Why don't you do me a favor and drop that knife."

Panicked, Logan's eyes darted around, taking in the scene. The dark, starless sky surrounded him. Beside him, a broken bottle of Jack lay empty and desolate. He'd awoken in the middle of the street, somewhere familiar. The Coronado Bridge. 'Shit.'

After pushing himself to a partial sitting position, he promptly doubled over. Sharp, stabbing pain shot through his chest from several broken ribs. A debilitating nausea followed, brought on by his damaged and aching abdomen. His face had swelled. It felt like a balloon. The metallic bittersweetness of blood filled his mouth as he ran his tongue along his broken lip.

At the sight of a brutally stabbed PCHer not two feet away from him, Logan scrambled back, trying to gain some distance. His insides recoiled again, gurgling and churning at what he'd seen. He stumbled to the bridge railing and violently began to dry heave. With a dizziness that brought wave after wave of queasiness, he found himself spitting out blood, saliva, and bile into the rushing water below.

Logan pulled himself together and pushed away from the railing. He tried to move toward the delivery man, intending to ask him what he'd seen. He couldn't catch his balance, though, and reached blindly for something to steady him.

"Hey! Hey, easy now, son." The delivery man sounded alarmed.

The man's earlier words hadn't even registered with Logan at first. When they did, his eyes widened in horror. He released the knife from his grasp as if he'd been burned. The delivery driver moved back toward his truck and held up his hands in surrender before climbing in and taking off. Logan's survival instincts kicked in.

Knowing he needed to get away before the sheriff and his deputies arrived, he impulsively picked up the knife and hurled it as far over the rail as he could. Adrenaline, fear, and hostility coursed through his veins as he peered over the side of the bridge. He listened in an attempt to hear it hit the water, his jaw and his fists clenched tightly. 'It better fucking stay gone like my mom's body.'

Briefly, he wondered what his mother's body sounded like when it hit the water. He didn't speculate for too long, though. The memory, the abandonment, they were still too painful. And he really couldn't afford the distraction.

Pushing away from the rail with grim determination, he limped back toward the still-open door of his truck. Teeth clenched tight, he held his breath and protectively clutched his aching side. 'With my luck, the damn knife will come floating back like a fucking boomerang.'

The door slammed shut before the tires squealed as he hit the gas with a single-minded dedication. Just a short time before, he'd been standing on the bridge's rail, pondering his losses and contemplating the merits of jumping versus the cost of staying alive. Now, he just wanted to survive.

He drove without knowing where to go. The radio babbled on without the words making any sense, but he needed the noise in order to clear his head. 'What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this? I can't go to Veronica. Not this time. Or...can I?' Once upon a time he might have gone to find Duncan and Mr. Kane. But not now. Not since Lilly's death.

The announcer's voice came on and interrupted his thoughts by speaking the name of his father.

"Breaking news. Abel Koontz is being released from jail at this very moment while none other than A-list movie star, Aaron Echolls, is arrested for the murder of Lilly Kane."

Instantly, Logan's senses were on high alert. 'What the fuck?!' He spotted a nearby alley, slammed on his brakes, and backed into the shadows to listen to what the anchor had to say.

"Very little is known at this point. However, as always, we will keep you informed up to the minute."

A feeling of dread and ugly anticipation filled the pit of Logan's already aching gut. It didn't surprise him that his father had just been declared a murderer. 'But why?' A barrage of possibilities flooded his consciousness but he forced them to an abrupt halt. 'I can't do this right now. Not if I want to survive.' Thankfully, the radio interrupted his thoughts.

"What we know right now is that Keith Mars, private investigator and former sheriff, along with his 17-year-old daughter were taken to Neptune Memorial Hospital at approximately the same time that Aaron Echolls was initially detained for questioning relating to new evidence that he had engaged in an inappropriate relationship with the only daughter of billionaire software mogul Jake Kane. Within the last fifteen minutes, charges of murder, assault, attempted murder, and arson have been filed by the district attorney with the victims listed as Lilly Kane, Keith Mars and his daughter."

Dry, shallow breathing made Logan's mouth dry. His dad had killed Lilly, not only that but he tried to hurt Veronica and her dad. 'Please be ok. Please be ok. Please be ok.'

"We are told that Keith Mars is still listed in critical condition while his daughter was treated and released. She was, however, unavailable for comment."

Logan felt sick. Without even trying, everything suddenly clicked into place. In his gut, he knew the truth of his father's guilt. He'd lived too long with the horrors that Aaron frequently inflicted on him to believe otherwise. But the reason...'inappropriate relationship'...no, he couldn't think about that right now. Not with everything else he'd just been through, everything he'd just found out.

Logan threw the truck into drive and stepped on the gas. He knew now without a doubt where he had to head. He'd lost his mother. His father was a murderer. His best friend was sure to hate him. There was only one person left who would understand and the radio had practically announced her location. He was going to see Veronica.

Chapter Two

The light was so dim in the apartment doorway that somewhere in the recesses of Logan's scattered and racing mind, he wondered if the cheap bastards who owned the place were just trying to save money.

He rapped his knuckles on the door, then stepped back to lean against the railing for support. Fear and nausea ripped at his gut. No answer. He knocked again. She had to be there. She just had to.

While he waited, he turned away, suddenly anxious and worried that maybe she'd gone somewhere else. With her friend, Wallace, perhaps, or maybe she'd stayed with her dad at the hospital. His knuckles turned white as his bloody and abraded hands gripped the white rail in an effort to hold onto his sanity.

By the time the door finally opened, he faced the quaint courtyard with its thorny rose bushes, flowering vines, and obligatory but utterly pathetic pool. Before he turned around, he heard her soft words, "I was hoping it would be you," and they gave him a sharp burst of hope but also made him fear what she'd think when she saw him.

He looked toward the ground, fighting hard to gather his courage. His hesitation must have concerned her because she called to him then, and his very name sounded like a question.

"Logan?"

The shadows kept him hidden for a moment. He turned towards her slowly, painfully, and the eerie light by the door illuminated him with all his cuts and bruises. He heard her gasp at the sight and for some reason that caused uncertainty and doubt to twist his insides. Had he done the right thing in coming here? It was too late to back out now.

With a deceptively cool and casual, "Hey, Veronica," he tried to play off his uncertainty, but his inability to continue to keep it together made the attempt immediately moot. His eyes betrayed his panic, his pain.

A stabbing pain suddenly hit him. He grimaced and reached for his side, stumbling forward, forcing her to catch him.

"Logan! What happened?!"

She helped him inside and settled him on the center cushion of the couch before she turned on the light and left the room for a few minutes. When she came back and sat down beside him, he subconsciously leaned closer.

"Come here," she commanded and he lifted his head while she moved to settle him across her lap.

'Awkward but familiar and comforting,' he thought. It brought back fuzzy memories of when she took care of him after every break up with Lilly. Times he partied too hard, got drunk out of his mind, and regaled her with the latest reasons for his self-loathing. 'Lilly. Did she really…? No...not with my dad...'

A cool, wet washcloth appeared out of nowhere. She started using it to clean the blood and dirt from his face while her soothing fingers combed their way through his hair. 'She must have gotten the cloth while she was out of the room. Not that it matters.'

"They caught me alone on the bridge," he began to explain.

"Who's they?" she interrupted.

Before answering, he took a moment to gather his thoughts and try to piece things together. "Uhh...Weevil...the PCHers." He closed his eyes and started to picture the last few things he could remember.

"What were you doing there?" Veronica asked incredulously.

"Havin' a drink," he replied with as much of his usual snark as he could muster. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at her with a brutally intense stare. She couldn't seem to look away, even when his next words were unrelentingly honest. "What do you think, Veronica? You'd broken up with me. You accused me of killing Lilly."

His eyes closed again and the images continued, running like some sick movie inside his head.

"You're lucky you're alive," Veronica said.

"That's one way of looking at it," he said with a slight nod, taking as deep of a breath as he dared.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Veronica asked with concern.

Instead of answering her, he recounted the details of what he'd seen when he woke up on the bridge.

"Oh my god, Logan!"

"No, but I didn't stab him, Veronica." He shook his head, his puppy dog eyes pleading with her not to doubt him.

She whispered firmly, "I believe you." His eyes met hers and he knew a miracle had just happened.

The knot in his chest began to unravel once he saw the resolve in her eyes. She would never treat him like Lilly had. She wouldn't betray him and leave him alone. Not now.

"I threw the knife in the water and got in my car and drove."

His own words were surreal to him as was the situation. A lump formed in his throat as he shook his head and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He turned away from her for a moment when he felt a salty liquid sting that he needed to blink away.

"Logan? There's something you need to know about your dad," Veronica said softly, changing the subject.

"Aaron Echolls, charged with murder?" The tears were harder to keep away now. Agonizing emotional distress joined the physical pain that filled his voice. "It's all over the radio."

As soon as the words were out, he lost the loose grasp on his control that he'd struggled so hard to maintain. His eyes welled with tears and sobs wracked his body, tightening his chest, effectively cutting off his air supply. The sharp, burning sensation every time he tried to take a breath let him know that he had, at the very least, several broken ribs.

'It's true. It has to be. Lilly was fucking my dad. And now she's dead. Veronica could have been next.'

A soft, "Ow," emitted pitifully from his lips.

Veronica's fingers brushed through his hair again and he took comfort in the gesture.

A knock sounded at the door. Unsurprising. It had only been a matter of time.

Logan adjusted himself to huddle alone on the couch while Veronica rose and crossed the room to answer it.

He watched as she peeked her head out the door, checking the identity of their guest before opening the door a little wider but not yet wide enough for the visitor to get past. Over her shoulder, bathed in the early morning light, stood a familiar-looking deputy.

Wracking his brain, trying to remember, it took a few moments for it to hit him. The '80's dance. Through a blurred memory, he thought he recalled Veronica along with the deputy trying to take his keys. He'd been thoroughly wasted. That had been right after Veronica helped him find out that his mother really had jumped to her death.

Ironically, the man at the door mumbled the same words that Logan had uttered on his arrival.

"Hey, Veronica."

She didn't respond so he continued. "I'm looking for Logan Echolls. I saw his SUV parked out front. I know he's here. This'll be better for everyone."

Logan knew Veronica couldn't say anything that would help. 'No point delaying the inevitable.'

Veronica seemed to agree and soon the door swung on its hinge and she pivoted to let the deputy past.

Sprawled back out on the couch, Logan's head rested on the other arm now so that he could pay attention to the conversation at the door. His eyes were sharp and alert, his face unreadable as he studied the deputy who gave Veronica a deeply regretful look.

When the man's eyes took in Logan's miserable form on the sofa in the living room, his expression changed to something that combined pity, incredulity, and sadness. All of which were exclusively aimed at Veronica.

Moving into the room, the deputy recited Logan's rights.

Chapter Three

The sheriff's department buzzed with activity while he sat with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands pondering the disastrous pile of shit that his life had become. He ran his hands through his hair, closed his eyes, and blew out a breath. 'What the fuck am I supposed to do now?'

Logan forced himself to remain calm, steady, as neutral and detached as possible. It was all an act anyway, right? He was unshakeable. Completely impervious. Except that he wasn't.

While he waited for the charges to be filed and his bond to be set, he took an inventory of his life and almost as soon as he began, he wished he hadn't. His mother was dead. She had killed herself. His father was in jail for murder which made it look like Logan was a chip off the old block. Murder. 'First Lilly, now this?'

Lilly Kane. His first girlfriend. The love of his life that he'd never been able to hold onto. Logan knew she had cheated on him. Knew it had happened on more than one occasion. He'd learned about Weevil and several of the others but he'd never thought, never suspected, that she would have, could have so utterly betrayed him with the father he despised.

For a moment, he felt the metaphorical knife twist in his back. Indescribable rage and pain bubbled up inside of him. He closed his eyes, letting every real and imagined scenario play out. Unbidden, images of Lilly flashed across his mind. Her sly smile. Her 'fuck it all' attitude. Her endless stores of energy. He opened his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. All the intense emotions seeped out of him. She was gone. There was nothing left to feel but loss.

Loss of his mother. Loss of his father. Loss of Lilly, Duncan, the Kanes...the only real family he'd ever known. 'That's not true. I'm forgetting Veronica.' The only semblance of family that he had left. He released a short and bitter laugh.

Veronica Mars. Friend. Nemesis. Ally. Girlfriend. And that had all been within the last week. Sometimes he didn't know what to think of her. She amused him to no end. Challenged the hell out of him. Surprised him like no other. 'Betrayed me?' Not so much. He had thought so. More than once. But no. She just had an incredibly well-developed sense of justice. A talent for revenge. And a tendency to jump to conclusions.

'How the hell did I fall for her?' That question made him pause for a moment in amazement. 'I have no idea.' He let his eyes wander upward, leaned back against the bench, and gave a self-deprecating laugh as he tried to sort through it all in his mind.

There existed this insane form of fucked up magnetism between them, he mused. No matter what happened around them, they were always acutely aware of each other. Oh, she'd deny it for sure, but it would be useless. Every time their eyes met across a room, he knew. They could never, ever be indifferent to each other.

They pushed and they pulled in their own little war. Watching. Waiting. Circling. Baiting. Both of them stubborn. Neither of them moving. Until an outside force caused one of them to flip. Then they were sucked together with a monumental force. Almost like a tractor beam. And he knew that, for better or worse, resistance was futile.

Veronica. Always volatile. Ever the bright point in his otherwise miserable existence. Yet they had turned on each other. He had ostracized her, made her a pariah. She had followed him, investigated him, thought him capable of murder. Maybe he was. Who knew? 'It's sure as hell in my genes.'

At least, he thought, Veronica believed him this time. She had said so herself. His innocence wasn't in question when it came to the murder of the biker named Felix.

Felix Toombs. The cocky bastard. 'Dead cocky bastard,' he corrected himself. Logan tried to remember who else had been on that bridge. It had been Weevil and Felix and...who else? All the other bikers blurred together. Hell, for all he knew, they didn't have names.

'But how the hell did the son-of-a-bitch end up dead?' Logan couldn't help but ask himself. If he didn't do it and the delivery driver didn't do it, then who did? He'd have to think on it, for sure. Giving an alternative theory may be his only defense. 'Besides the fact that the numbers were something like six to one,' he thought wryly.

Logan took a deep breath and deliberately shifted his line of thinking. His head ached. Waiting to be questioned took forever. Waiting for his lawyer. Waiting to make bail. Waiting, waiting, waiting. 'Where's Veronica? What's she doing right now? Is she really gonna help?' He scowled and reprimanded himself. She wasn't his savior. She wasn't a super hero. It wasn't her job to swoop in and make everything better.

But he'd seen the look on her face when the deputy had cuffed him and led him away. Her blue-eyed gaze had been steely, resolved, edged with righteous anger. It had been incredibly hot. And in spite of the circumstance, he'd been seriously turned on.

After everything that had happened that night, something had shifted. Something had changed. She would fight for him. She would stand by his side. Somehow, she would help him wade through this fucked up mess. She would find a way. He knew it.

Logan's thoughts were interrupted as Lamb approached him with a cocky swagger and a shit-eating grin. "Looks like we've got two murderers in the Echolls family."

Gritting his teeth, Logan refused to respond which seemed to make Lamb push even harder. "In fact, in case you hadn't heard, it would seem you weren't experienced enough for your girlfriend. I've got tapes in my evidence room of the illustrious Lilly Kane getting it on with your dad."

Bile rose in Logan's throat at his worst nightmare being confirmed. He'd known it, accepted it, and dreaded finding out the details but never had he dreamed he'd hear about it like this.

A dark-haired man in a cheap-ass suit appeared and gave Lamb a hard and pointed look while Logan worked to school his features. "I don't believe you're supposed to be speaking to my client without him having representation, Sheriff."

Logan stared at the man with a blank expression while Lamb made his excuses and scurried off. 'Thank god.'

"Good morning," came the deep, melodic, sing-songy voice that now directed itself straight at Logan. "I'm Cliff MacCormack, your friendly neighborhood if-you-can't-afford-a-lawyer lawyer. At your service."

From behind the man came another voice. A familiar one, not to mention playful and a tiny bit reprimanding. "Cliffy, I told you not to start without me."

"Sorry, V, just walked in," the attorney said.

The three of them entered one of the interrogation rooms. Cliff sat on the corner of the small table. Veronica sat at Logan's right side.

"So tell me how all this came to pass," Cliff started.

Logan looked at Veronica and Veronica looked at Logan. Their eyes met and he spoke directly to her. "It's like I said before. I was on the bridge. The bikers showed up. They were begging for a fight. Weevil came towards me so I kicked him in the face. The others mobbed me, took me down, and I passed out. Next thing I remember is waking up on the bridge, beat all to hell, with a knife in my hand."

"Was there anyone else there?" Cliff asked. He had a notebook out but he hadn't written anything down.

"Yeah, no, I don't know. I think so. I don't really remember. Everything's fuzzy." Logan didn't want to say anything about the delivery driver, whom he considered a loose cannon. What did he see? What would he say? In Logan's mind, the guy would likely condemn him rather than defend him. 'Better to say nothing at all.'

Veronica stayed silently by his side. When he looked away from her, she reached over and took his hand. His eyes rested on the tiny warm spot pressed against his skin. He found himself unreasonably grateful for even such minimal contact from her.

Feeling completely lost, he lifted his eyes to her compassionate baby blues. He gave her a weak little half-smile and said the only thing he could. "Thanks."

She smiled back softly and gave his hand a squeeze. "Don't mention it."

"Ok, so here's what I suggest," Cliff began, "Put daddy's money to use. Get some high-priced lawyers who are good at pleading self-defense. The charges have been filed. Your bail has been posted. You have six weeks to figure this out before the preliminary hearing." He took a break and looked long and hard between Logan and Veronica. "All right, you two crazy kids. That's enough for tonight. Go on. Get out of here."

Veronica rose and gave Cliff a loose hug and a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Cliffy. You're the best."

Chapter Four

Six weeks. The calm before the storm. The preliminary hearing had put everything else on hold. Everything except Logan and Veronica. The two of them were spending more time together than ever. And for Logan, it brought pure unadulterated bliss.

He thought of Trina being home until his emancipation could be finalized, of his dad in jail, of Mr. Mars in the hospital, and then with violent force he shoved it all from his mind. Instead, he focused on Veronica. The one high point in his otherwise abysmal existence. The only thing that got him through: his relationship with Veronica.

The first two weeks, with everything going on, they simply supported each other as friends. They laughed, they joked, they had pillow fights. They swam in his pool and walked on the beach. At times he'd even bring his surfboard and try to give her a lesson.

He'd start her on the sand, balancing on the board. Then he'd tip her and tilt her and catch her when she fell.

"You did that on purpose," she accused him one day.

He stood less than a foot from her, hands resting lightly on his thighs, legs spread shoulder-width apart to counteract her shortness. A grin spread across his face. Sunglasses hid his eyes. And with a cocky smirk he asked, "So what if I did?"

She pushed him away and ran further up the beach, turning around and laughing as she continued to move. "I'll think of something!" she called back. But somehow, she never did.

When Mr. Mars came home, Logan still hung around, going out with Veronica. It must have worried Keith because he almost immediately sat them both down to talk.

"Well," Keith began, "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Logan thought, 'Damn. I'm in trouble.' He didn't know what to say. He looked helplessly at Veronica and hoped she would take the lead.

"Dad," she said, "I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong. Ok, so maybe you would have been right before but not anymore." She paused dramatically, then added, "The biggest thing is, Logan has changed."

Her words echoed through Logan like a balm. She'd forgiven him and he'd long since forgiven her. He looked at his hands folded together on the table and couldn't help the smile that started to form. 'I could get used to this.' He felt like an idiot but his heart began to soar.

Keith watched Veronica with a bland expression. She rolled her eyes and started again, "Logan and I have come a long way. There's still a lot that you don't know."

Logan saw Keith's eyes narrow and Veronica's face harden. As if they were in a duel, the two opponents hovered at a standstill.

"Care to share?" Keith asked dryly.

She volleyed like a pro. "No. There are things a parent doesn't need to know."

At that point, Logan felt compelled to interject. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and squirmed in his seat.

"Look, don't argue because of me, ok? I was an ass. We all know it. I'll probably be an ass again." He paused, looked at Keith, his eyes intense. "I don't have any excuses. If I did, I wouldn't use them. I made mistakes. I'm learning from them and trying to move on." He stood silently a moment, organizing his thoughts and letting that sink in.

When he spoke again, his tone resonated as soft and sincere. "The thing is, Mr. Mars, with all the shit I've got going on in my life, there's only one thing that matters. Your daughter. That's it. Just her. Honestly, I don't know why she has faith in me but goddamn, I really want to deserve it."

Keith studied Logan intently. Logan held the older man's gaze. He respected the former sheriff, admired him even. Not to mention Keith Mars scared the shit out of him. He held his breath and waited for Keith to speak. When he did, it brought Logan great relief.

"All right, Logan. I'll give you a chance. You can hang out, stick around this summer. I won't even object too loudly if you and my daughter decide to date." Keith took his turn to pause, looking at Logan long and hard. "But, son, if you ever put my little girl in danger, you're through. You won't get any more chances. You hear me?"

Logan nodded and started to say, "I hear you," when Veronica interrupted.

"Dad," she said irritably, "Logan's not the only one to be held responsible, you know. I make my own decisions and my own mistakes."

"I know, sweetheart, but still...Logan needs to know that the cost of screwing up now would be high," Keith insisted.

"He knows," Veronica said firmly, "Trust me."

The fact that she defended him to her dad meant the world to Logan. Logan's emotions were flying high. He felt ecstatic and giddy. Overwhelmed and scared. 'What did I ever do to deserve her loyalty?' Loyalty meant everything to Logan. He gave it freely but rarely received it in return.

When she walked him to the door that night, he pulled her outside and pinned her to the wall. They hadn't kissed since before she'd accused him of murder. That night in the pool house where he'd told her he wanted her to trust him. And she'd said she did.

They'd been so happy. For all of a minute. They'd been making out, laughing. Then it had all come to an end. All because he decided he needed a drink and the goddamn key broke in the lock of the liquor cabinet.

It had been too long since that fateful day. He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He buried his face in her hair, sprinkled kisses along her jaw. When their lips met, he poured himself into her, releasing every pent up emotion he had.

She responded to him immediately, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers burying themselves in his hair. He clung to her and she held onto him. She was all that he had left. His desperation, his need, his lust, every emotion coursing through him emanated like a beacon and swept them both away.

When he broke the kiss, he touched his forehead to hers. They laughed and looked at each other with incredulity. Shock and wonder in their eyes. It was the Camelot all over again. Only this time, he hoped, there would be no turning back.

Logan framed her face with his hands. He kissed her forehead and her nose, then pecked her on the lips. "So," he said with a shy little smirk, his body thrumming with energy, his voice eager for her answer, "Does this mean we're back together?"

"Considering why we broke up, I'm surprised you want me," Veronica snarked, trying to cover her insecurity, her blue eyes twinkling like sapphires.

Logan chuckled and shook his head, tipping her face up for another kiss. When their lips parted, he quipped in return with a reassuring, "Well, you know, I am a masochist."

She laughed and rolled her eyes as she shook her head. She patted his cheek patiently. "Of course you are. What else would you be?"

"A sadist," he returned with a waggle of his brows, then added with a twitch of his lips, "But I've given that up, at least for the most part."

"Right," Veronica laughed, "Well, maybe I'll start. Ever heard of being cruel to be kind?"

"Isn't that a song?" Logan asked in delight.

"Shut up and kiss me," Veronica ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin, doing as she said with a flourish and a spin.

Over the next several weeks they were practically inseparable. She went with him to meet his lawyers. He got so turned on watching her work. She brought him his lunch. They made out in his truck and more on the beach.

Every waking hour was spent losing himself in her. Getting intoxicated by her in ways that would never compare to even the very best drug. All in all, he thought, he had a nearly perfect existence.

Then came the preliminary hearing where everything 'normal' that they'd built teetered on the edge of extinction. The paparazzi were there, the news crews, too. And while legally everything went his way, in reality it couldn't have been much worse.

No one believed him. Not the press, not the court, not his family, not even most of his friends. No one except Veronica. It didn't matter that the DA decided he didn't have enough evidence. The public had already labeled him a murderer. Just like his dad.

Veronica sat by his side and held his hand, urging him not to listen, "Seriously, Logan, they don't even know you. Don't let them get to you like this."

Scornful thoughts kept coming even as he nodded. He sat sullenly looking out the window of the limo, the image of the crowd picketing him just wouldn't go away. She reached for him, tugged on his arm, tried to pull him closer.

The son of a movie star had spent his whole life being verbally and emotionally abused. When it came from his father, he expected it. When the insults and accusations were hurled at him from strangers, they blindsided him, which somehow made things much worse.

For a moment, he thought about how he couldn't hide and felt sorry for himself that he couldn't catch a break. Then he let himself feel Veronica's soothing presence. He relaxed against her and closed his eyes. 'Maybe she can make it all go away.'

She was his lifeline. His hold on everything good. He threw himself into his relationship with her. Their makeout sessions became more intense. He desperately needed her to know what she meant to him. He ached to hold her and touch her. Bury himself inside her if she'd let him.

But he didn't want to push her. He knew her history well. He still felt guilty about it. Instead, he daydreamed, he obsessed, he did everything he could to make all that up to her. To be the best boyfriend he could.

He visited her at her new job. Took her to movies and out to dinner. He tried not to let it bother him when Duncan showed up, made a habit of sitting in her section.

"Hey, DK," Logan said when he approached his old friend one day.

Duncan didn't even look at him. Just kept on staring at his book. Only when Veronica came near did he speak and then only to her. "Latte when you have a minute?" he said with a smile.

She smiled back and gave him a nod. Logan watched the entire exchange. Anger and jealousy boiled up inside him as he thought, 'Fucker's trying to steal my girlfriend!'

His time spent with Veronica became stressed and strained. Things were heating up between his friends, the 09ers, and the PCHers. They started playing a dangerous game of tit for tat.

Veronica did her best to let him know he wasn't alone. She tried to get him to see reason and leave things be. He loved her for it. Held on to her. Considered her to be his personal life preserver. The only thing holding him together.

He tried to act unfazed, like nothing bothered him even though it did. He knew Veronica could see through him but she wanted 'normal' so much more than he did. He only wanted it for her. Neither one of them were very successful at making it happen. Not with the whole situation so beyond them.

They pretended to be normal, though. They pretended when they were together and they pretended when they were apart. Sometimes they convinced themselves but most of the time it didn't work. The last straw came when the PCHers shot into his truck while they were making out.

The night had been perfect. They were alone for the first time in quite a while. They were kissing and groping each other in the back of his truck, the entire experience like a dream. Her touch calmed him, elated him, made him feel like the king of the world.

When they broke apart, she smiled at him, the look on her face tugged at his heart. He lightly brushed her cheek with his fingertips and cupped her chin as she reluctantly tried to pull away.

"I should probably go. 'Cause my dad is probably watching us through a telescope," she said.

Whispering in response while still trying to kiss her, he glanced briefly toward the window, "He's probably impressed with your virtue."

She chuckled and held back, not letting him reach her, "And that telescope is mounted on a rifle."

Looking toward her apartment, Logan held up one hand and spoke softly into the night as if her father could not only see but understand him, "Five more minutes."

She laughed at his audacity but he leaned back to say, "He should feel lucky. I mean, you could be out here with some pretty boy jerk just looking to get laid."

He moved in to kiss her again but she stopped him. "Wait. What are you saying? You're not pretty?"

Her eyes gleamed in the moonlight and he held her gaze adoringly, "What I'm trying to say is I'm in love with you."

Breath catching in her throat, her eyes sparkled in wonder. She shook her head and cupped the back of his neck before she said, "The things guys'll say to get past second base."

She pulled him toward her and he laid her back as their lips met in a tender and passionate kiss. Things between them began to smolder, seeming to lead in a direction they never had. Logan had worked his way up from her waist to her left breast right before a shot rang out.

A motorcycle engine revved just after the glass in his rear window blew out. They gasped and he ducked to cover them both. They sat up stunned and scared when it ended.

After that, it didn't matter what she said or what she did. Logan's thoughts inevitably swirled more and more darkly. He didn't know what to do but he knew he couldn't do nothing. He couldn't pretend things were ok anymore.

His life had become a circus, with him constantly in the center ring. He lived in danger and brought danger to anyone around him. He couldn't escape and he couldn't protect himself let alone her. His every action had become a spectator sport. He hated it. He revolted against it and rebelled.

Whatever loose grip he'd had on sanity disappeared. He lost it. He started to fight back. He spiraled quickly out of control. He couldn't turn back once he'd begun to melt down. Not even Veronica could save him.

Chapter Five

The last week of summer school marked the beginning of the end for Logan and Veronica. Logan couldn't believe he had to be in summer school anyway. It hadn't been his fault, after all, that he'd been arrested and missed his finals.

Veronica came to visit him for lunch, always the best part of any day. But this day was different. When she got there, Logan's mood couldn't have been more foul. She took his hand and they started walking.

The first words out of his mouth were bitter ones. "My sister's negotiating with the networks to sell her version of the Aaron Echolls story." He glanced at her quickly before adding sarcastically, "I think the sticking point is that she's insisting on playing herself. The producers, on the other hand, are insisting on Tara Reid."

"Trina wasn't even around," Veronica said incredulously.

"Who do you suppose cares?" came his exhausted and hopeless response. He knew how the industry worked. This bullshit could not be more typical. He waited a beat to see if she'd have a response and when she didn't, he said sourly, "I always wanted a TV movie version of my life," then added with a tiny smile and a little humor, "Hey, think they can get Tom Welling to play me?"

Veronica smiled in response and teased, "Dream on."

As they reached the parking lot, Dick and Cassidy were just pulling in. They opened their doors and jumped out of the truck, Dick immediately calling out to his friend. "Logan! Aaand Logan's special lady friend whom I approve of wholeheartedly and without reservation."

"Dick," Veronica acknowledged in her most tolerant voice, then added, "Hey Cassidy."

Cassidy hitched up his backpack higher on his shoulder and gave her a small smile, "What's up, Veronica?"

Logan acknowledged them both with an amused, "Boys." When Logan saw Dick open the hatch on his truck, he instantly became uncomfortable.

As if confirming Logan's fear, Dick stated conversationally, "I got the supplies. Enbom and Rams are gonna meet us at the Sac N' Pac."

Trying to backpedal, think fast, and avoid a 'situation', Logan asked, "Uhh, can't we do this later?" He knew Veronica would easily catch on and he couldn't provide a valid explanation for what they were doing.

But of course, it was too late.

"What's all the gasoline for?" Veronica asked.

Logan had to think fast but even then, he knew his excuse would be seriously lame. "We're gonna...go kill the grass in the Pan High football field, spell out Pan Sucks."

In spite of the flimsy explanation, Dick - ever loyal and faithful - backed him. "Which it does."

Veronica stared up at him and Logan knew he couldn't dare look back. She'd see right through him. And more than that, she'd demand answers.

The atmosphere rapidly became awkward and tense. Veronica eyed him suspiciously and left without eating lunch.

As soon as she disappeared, Logan whacked Dick upside the head. Utterly annoyed, he demanded, "Dude, what are you trying to do? Break us up?"

"What?" Dick asked, unperturbed, "I didn't know she'd be here. Man, you seriously need to just relax."

Shaking his head in disgust, Logan turned to Cassidy, "How is it that you got all the common sense?"

"It's my curse, I guess," Cassidy answered blandly.

Uncomfortable now that Veronica knew that something would happen, Logan shifted from foot to foot. He ran his hand through his hair and said nervously, "I don't know, man. Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"No way, dude!" Dick protested instantly, "Everything's all set up!"

Logan glanced at Cassidy who hung back silently. He wouldn't offer any input. It took a few moments of struggling inwardly, but Logan eventually said, "Fine. We'll do it. But if this comes back to bite me with Veronica, I swear to god I'll kick your ass!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dick scoffed, "She's got your balls in a vise. Understood."

They got in the truck and headed off, picking up Enbom and Rams along the way.

They completed the deed several hours later. They'd lit the community pool on fire, watched as it started to burn, then hightailed it out of there.

It was not Logan's finest moment.

'In fact,' he frowned as he made his way home, 'That was even lower than the bum fights.'

He knew he needed to stop but he didn't know how. He'd gone too far and done too much. In spite of his promise to Keith Mars, he'd been leading the 09ers in a war against the PCHers, ever since they'd shot into his truck.

Mostly they'd taken aim at the bikers directly. Toilet papering their houses and shooting stink bombs into their yards. A number of times they had called in the Sheriff's Department, claiming some falsified harassment. This time, though, this time they had hit them where it hurt. It wouldn't be just the PCHers who would pay, it would be their entire community.

The worst of it occurred when he flopped on his bed and hit the remote to turn on the news. His handiwork headlined the top of the hour. Right then and there, he knew. No way in hell would Veronica let him get away with it.

When he saw Veronica the next day, he thought he had prepared for anything she might throw at him but nothing could have readied him for what actually happened.

After she got off work, he drove to her place to meet up with her. Her dad wasn't home when he got there so she invited him in and asked him to sit down so they could talk. He already knew that he'd be in trouble so he figured he might as well get it over with.

Seated on the couch, he faced her. She sat on the cushion next to him and did the same. She took his hands in hers and looked at him earnestly before she spoke. When she did, her words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"I kept thinking that if I just stuck by you, that you'd get past this, this phase, and you'd be you again."

A look of shock and horror overtook his features. His voice was nearly cracking with emotion. "What, are you breaking up with me?"

"I can't stay with you," she said, her eyes begging him to understand even as she confirmed his worst nightmare, "Not with you and your 'toadies' cruising around at night and hatching plans, refusing to let everything get back to normal. Someone's gonna get killed, Logan."

Had he been able to register anyone's emotions but his in that moment, he would have recognized fear. Not just fear but terror. And she felt that for him.

Instead, he remained oblivious, unable to recognize anything but his own agony.

"Someone already has. Did you forget that already?" he asked incredulously. His voice started to quaver as he continued, "And most of the people in this town, they think that I did it. Those people you call toadies, they're my friends. They've got my back."

Unable to stay still anymore, he pushed himself back till he sat on the arm of the couch, putting a couple feet of distance between them.

"It's not about protection, Logan," Veronica insisted vehemently, "It's about pride."

He covered his face, disbelieving, but she continued.

"And the thing that I can't stand? I'm pretty sure there's a part of you that's having fun with all of this." He didn't look at her but it sounded like she almost released a tiny sardonic laugh.

He couldn't take it anymore. He started to break.

"Fun?! Fun?" Logan stood and spun around, sending the lamp beside the couch flying before he turned back to her, pointing a finger in her direction, his face filled with pain. "My mom is dead. My girlfriend is dead. My dad is a murderer. And the only person I still care about is dumping me. You think I'm having FUN?! Answer me, ok? Just tell me - "

Her dad arrived in the midst of the yelling. He stormed through the front door and immediately had Logan face first against a wall, arm twisted upward behind his back.

"You don't talk to my daughter that way," Keith said firmly, "You're leaving now and you're never coming back."

Logan left, all right. He got in his truck and slammed the door, pounding his fists against the steering wheel. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally began to fall. He sat there and sobbed, unable to stop himself, not knowing what else to do.

He'd already thought about taking the easy way out, gone to the bridge to contemplate ending things. 'Look where that got me.' This time he'd have to try something different. He spun out his tires and headed home, intent on raiding the liquor cabinet. He would drink himself into oblivion.

On his way there, tears continued to stream down his face. Despair and devastation filled him. Later, he would be able to remember just one thing about that drive. A single realization consumed him. 'Nothing, not even the most brutal beating can compare to being betrayed and abandoned by the one person who had a chance of saving me.'

Chapter Six

Nothing good could come of Logan hanging out at Dick's. He knew that, but he just didn't care. He avoided going to school, avoided his senior year, avoided his former best friend and, more than anything, he avoided Veronica.

Hanging out at Dick's seemed like the lesser of two evils. He and Dick hung out by the pool while Beaver did a cannonball into the deep end. He saw her for the first time that day. Kendall Casablancas. Dick and Cassidy's latest step-mom.

Gorgeous. Perfectly proportioned. Every teenaged boy's wet dream. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared. Sure she oozed sex but she clearly portrayed herself as a cougar desperate for attention. Generally, Logan didn't play that game.

But with him alone and Veronica dating Duncan, Logan's fragile ego had been bruised. No, more than that. His confidence had been shaken. He found himself licking his wounds and questioning everything he thought he knew.

No way had Veronica seen him as a placeholder for Duncan. No. Not Duncan Fucking Donut, the zombified version of America's Golden Boy. The Veronica he knew could barely tolerate that simpering, sniveling mess.

'Then what?' She'd talked all summer about things getting back to 'normal' and he thought he'd understood what she wanted. But maybe he hadn't. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that her 'normal' could be defined as being in a persistent state of denial. A desire to live in the past.

'Fuck that.' The past consisted only of heartache and pain, not to mention beatings, bitterness, and loss. Right here, right now. The only time of any importance. He wanted to be able to feel good again, without having to expend emotion. 'Nothing like living for today to help you forget the past.'

Those were his thoughts as he studied Kendall Casablancas strutting her stuff by the pool. It would be effortless. No strings attached. Something to distract him and that would be all. 'If Veronica can pretend to move on, why can't I?''

Dick interrupted Logan's thoughts when he looked at him from the lounge chair beside him and said, "What's the deal-io, bro? You ever showin' up at school?"

"Ehh, what for?" Logan responded, pulling a throw pillow out from under him, "No one seems to care. I'm practically an orphan. I can do whatever I want."

He didn't speak the truth in its entirety and he knew it. Veronica cared. 'How many times has she proved that to be true?'

Kendall went inside for a few minutes while they talked. When she returned, she held a drink in her hand and addressed them with a condescending smile.

"Welcome home, children. How was school? Would you like a rice crispy treat?" In spite of her words, her eyes were only for Logan. He didn't need to see them behind her shades to be able to read them. Her demeanor and that smirk said it all.

"Aw gee, mom, you're the best, but I'll pass," Cassidy said sarcastically as he dried off with a towel by the pool. Then looking at Logan, he asked, "You've met mumsy, right?"

Lost for words for a moment, Logan tried to remember. 'Have I met her?'

Dick attempted to be helpful by prompting him with clues, "The club, the clambake, remember?"

'Nope. Don't remember her. The club, the clambake, sure. I enjoyed those with Veronica by my side. Definitely some of the better nights of my life.' His mask of indifference faltered for a moment. Thankfully, Dick and Cassidy weren't paying attention.

Dick had turned to Beav to say, "God, you're retarded."

Which had Cassidy responding, "Yet it's a miracle I managed to score 400 points higher than you on the SAT, huh?"

"Boys, you don't want me to tell your father you couldn't play nice," Kendall remarked in warning.

By the time that brief exchange ended, Logan had made a decision. There were so many ways that an 'arrangement' with the new Mrs. Casablancas could be mutually beneficial. The prospect became too tempting to resist.

Lifting a finger, he flirted playfully to get her attention, "Uhh, I want a rice krispie treat."

She wasn't having it. Her tone suddenly changed and he knew she would attempt to play hardball. "Go make it yourself then, kid. Do I look like a cook?"

She took off her sunglasses and gave him a 'look.' Then, obviously for his benefit, she shrugged off the flimsy cover-up to reveal her barely there bikini, turned on her heel, and sashayed to the pool. As she entered the water, her eyes gleamed in satisfaction.

'Yeah. She knows she's got my attention. And that's just what she wanted, too.'

"You guys are twisted," Cassidy commented as his friend and his brother watched his step-mom ease herself into the pool.

"So where did your dad meet her?" Logan asked Dick with interest.

"She was a Laker Girl. And, you know my dad. He has good seats," Dick explained.

Cassidy added to it just the information Logan had wanted to know. "A certain Laker All-Stars wife had her fired. Didn't like the look of her."

"So what are you doin' tonight, bro?" Dick asked with a nod and half-smile.

The wheels in Logan's mind turned. An idea quickly formed in his head. "Well, as much as I enjoy the company of men, I've got other plans tonight." He made a kissy face and flashed Dick 'the shocker.'

"That, I can respect," Dick responded, his fingers forming a 'shocker' of his own.

The two boys 'toasted' them together in some sort of masculine ritual before Logan's eyes moved back to the subject of his thoughts.

Mr. Casablancas had gone out of town that day and now he knew that Dick and Beav wouldn't be home, either. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Logan would get his revenge, a form of escape, and a way to make Veronica jealous all in one.

Who he needed revenge against still had to be decided upon. A casual 'fuck you' directed at his father whereby he slept with another man's wife so he'd feel better about Aaron having had sex with his girlfriend? A way to get back at Duncan for taking Veronica, saying 'Ha! I'm getting laid and you're not'? 'Cause surely with her history, their history, that would be the case.

Or simple revenge against Veronica for breaking up with him, for leaving him alone when he needed her most? He didn't doubt for a second that his actions were a ploy to get her attention, to make her jealous. An attempt to make her as miserable as him.

In the end, he believed that all of the above motivated him. Making everyone pay for how they had hurt him, including himself.

Leaving before dinner, he spent a couple hours surfing before he went back to his place and took a shower. He checked the time, grabbed a quick snack, waited until Dick and Beaver would be gone, then headed back to the Casablancas Estate.

He practically skipped up to the door and waved his index finger in a circle before landing it deliberately on the bell. He stood there, a confident smirk on his face, sure he knew how this would go down.

It took several minutes and more than one ring but then he finally heard the sharp, staccato steps of Mrs. Kendall Casablancas. Confirmation of her presence on the other side of the door came with her shout, "Who the hell is it? This had better be important!" She flung the door open and stood before him wearing nothing but silky lingerie.

"Oh, it's you," she said in a tone of bored disinterest, "Your little friends aren't here. You can go home now."

Logan ogled her with open appreciation, taking in her barely there teddy and her smooth olive skin. He gave her a knowing look and a lecherous smirk before he said, "I think you know I'm not here for them."

She looked pleased, lowered her lashes, and wet her lips. Her eyes assessed him carefully, then finding what she wanted, she turned carefully. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she gave him her best 'come hither' gaze and said, "Well then, let's get on with it. You think I have all night?"

Thus began their meaningless affair. It became an inside joke, a favorite double entendre, for him to show up at the door in the middle of the day just to ask if Dick and Beaver could come out to play. She'd immediately lose whatever little clothing she had and would proceed to make his day.

Nowhere close to emotionally fulfilling or even remotely satisfying, but it did scratch that most basic physical itch. Twisted and sadistic, he knew, but all things considered, he looked forward to the day he'd get caught.

Chapter Seven

The thought of the newly reunited couple holding hands or kissing, trying to be all sweet and innocent like they used to be, made him want to vomit. Seeing it in person, though, brought his nausea to a whole new level.

He leaned against the bus that he'd been considering riding, but as soon as he saw Duncan and Veronica coming toward him, he felt bile rising in his throat and instantly knew he was gonna bail.

'Mayday, SOS, red alert, if I go on this fucking field trip, I will definitely crash and burn.'

His heart ached with longing and regret as the pair that was mostly estranged from him came closer. Before he could stop himself, he stepped out in front of them, his eyes zeroed in on Veronica's, begging her silently to look at him the way she'd just been looking at Duncan.

"I'm going to miss you." The words that he'd thought were only in his head somehow made their way out of his mouth. 'Shit. I'm going to regret saying that. Abort! Must get out NOW! Before I say something else that'll come back to haunt me.'

Rapping his knuckles on the side of the bus, he strode toward the parking lot with long strides. He turned away then, but he he couldn't stop himself from glancing back at the bus, his eyes searching the windows for one last glimpse of Veronica.

When his eyes locked onto Veronica's, his heart clenched in his chest and he almost choked. His heart sped up, his eyes stung with tears. He spun back around and stormed toward his truck. 'Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck.'

Leaping into his SUV, he slammed the door behind him, sitting for a moment as he pounded his fists on the steering wheel in frustration before finally let the tears of love and loss fly. He gave himself exactly two minutes for his emotional breakdown, and then forced himself to pull it together. Clearly, he needed to make a damn tough decision.

'I can't keep doing this. I know I love her but I've gotta let her go.' He wracked his brain for a solution but only one thing came to mind: his old stand-by for whenever he and Lilly were on the outs. 'Effective or not, I've gotta give it a try. I need to fuck, fuck, fuck her out of my system.'

Throwing the XTerra into drive, he spun the wheels and headed to the Casablancas estate. With Dick and Beaver on the field trip and their father most likely at the office or out of town, Logan figured it was a pretty sure bet that Kendall would be available to accommodate him.

After a full day of doing just as he'd planned, he and Kendall were nearly caught in flagrante when Dick Sr., Dick Jr, and Cassidy arrived home. Luckily, Kendall heard them just in time, talking as they came up the front steps.

Logan raced up the stairs and bounced on Dick's bed, picking up the tv remote and game controller. He got a game going that would let him jump right into the action so it wouldn't look like he'd just started. Not two minutes later, Dick and Cassidy walked in looking a little suspicious and Logan knew immediately that he needed to throw up a smokescreen.

"Dude, why's your step-mom such a bitch?" he said.

The tension diffused quickly as both boys moved to join him on the floor. Dick started to open his mouth as if to say something but before he could, Logan continued obliviously.

"I mean, seriously, a guy asks for one sandwich…"

At that moment, Mr. Casablancas appeared in the door, hands stuffed in his suit pockets, making Logan even more glad that he'd decided to play up Kendall being a bitch.

"Hi, Logan," Dick Sr. greeted him with a smile as he took two steps into the room, "How's everything going?"

Logan gave his biggest, cheesiest smile and said with false cheer, "Really well. Thanks for asking, Mr. C, and you?" Given everything that had happened to him only a moron would believe that he'd ever really be 'ok.'

But Mr. Casablancas didn't seem to notice the lie. Instead, he said with a look of kindness, almost as if he cared, "Excellent."

"See, you had to one-up me," Logan added in an 'aw shucks' sort of way meant to prove he wasn't a threat.

Dick Sr. chuckled as he moved further into the room, seeming to contemplate something. Then he said rather generously, "Listen, don't worry about Mrs. Casablancas. You're welcome here anytime."

Logan paused with a self-satisfied smile on his face, thinking to himself, 'Holy shit! I fucking did it! He doesn't suspect a thing.'

Mr. Casablancas continued by saying seriously, "You like to bust chops. I respect that."

Pleased, Logan nodded and said, "Thanks," hoping the man would leave.

Just as he reached the door, though, Dick Sr. looked at him and said, "Hey, Dick Jr. and I are going over to the firing range tomorrow. Interest you in a little target practice?"

"Well, as long as I'm not the target," Logan said with a smile, raising his hands in surrender, continuing to work hard to seem harmless.

Dick Sr. raised his fingers and pretended to shoot at Logan, then he laughed, turned, and left the room.

Logan's guard came down as his friends watched their dad exit the bedroom. He looked scared and vulnerable and he thought, 'If I fuck this up, I'll be a dead man.'

As soon as his dad was gone, Dick Jr. whacked Logan's shoulder, finally able to spill the news he'd tried to relay to his friend earlier.

"Dude! Did you hear about the bus?!"

Looking at Dick blandly, Logan asked with disinterest, "What bus?" then turned to Beaver and shook his head, "What the hell is he talking about?"

Beaver shrugged and opened his mouth but Dick interrupted him, his words tripping over each other in his excitement, "DUDE! Seriously?! THE BUS! What, you already forgot you ditched us on the trip to Shark Stadium?"

Shark Stadium. 'Fuck. Well, apparently I succeeded in my mission of forgetting. Until now. Thanks a ton, Dick.'

But apparently Dick had seen the light of realization in Logan's eyes because he was already continuing his exposition.

"...so we called dad and got him to hire a car for the return trip because goddamn that bus was RANK." Dick waved his hands around to illustrate his words and then backhanded his brother's shoulder to make sure he was in agreement. "Right, Beav? Anyway, it was a damn good thing we got ourselves a limo because, dude, the fucking bus drove right over the cliff!"

Bus. Cliff. Veronica. Suddenly all the work he'd put in to forget that he cared had disappeared. Adrenaline pumped through him and he gripped Dick by both shoulders, "Dude. Who was on the bus? Where are they? Is anyone alive?" If Veronica was hurt or...worse...he didn't think he'd survive.

Off to the side, Beaver snickered. It was obvious that he thought his brother was an idiot, botching the tale from every angle. Logan glanced at him, his eyes pleading.

"Duncan and a few others were in the limo with us," Cassidy explained, leaving out any information about Veronica.

Looking back to Dick, Logan's voice was raspy as he asked, "And Veronica?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation, Dick responded, "We invited her to go in the limo with us but she was stubborn, dude. She insisted on riding the bus with Meg."

'Veronica was on the bus. Holy shit.'

Before he could start to panic, though, Dick was talking again, "Guess she got lucky, though. Bus left her behind at the gas station."

Twinkling lights flashed before Logan's eyes and he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He inhaled deeply twice, steadying himself before he tried to talk. "She's ok?"

Dick waved him off and gave him a look that said, 'Oh, please,' but Logan needed to hear it.

"Dick," he said sternly, "Tell me, man. Is. She. Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. The traitorous bitch is fine."

'Right. Traitor. Shit. Guess fucking her out of my system didn't work out so well after all.'

Moving to his feet, Logan stumbled toward the door, tossing back over his shoulder, "I gotta get out of here."

"See you tomorrow?" Dick asked, then called out when he didn't get a response, "Don't forget the shooting range!"

The next day proved interesting. Logan had never shot a gun before. He found it took quite a bit of concentration. He liked that, especially since it required a singular focus and meant he couldn't think about Veronica, bus crashes, or torrid affairs.

Dick Sr. shot off a few rounds, all to the head and the heart. Then Dick Jr. took his turn, 'gangsta style'. Most of his shots landed somewhere between limbs and the gut which caused Logan to say sarcastically, "That'll slow 'em down."

Then came his turn. He pushed up the safety glasses and concentrated on the target. He lifted the gun, aimed, and after a moment of deliberation pulled the trigger. He followed that ritual several times. He hit around the four corners of the target and managed one shot to the head.

Just as he pretended to blow smoke from the end of the gun, thinking he hadn't done so bad, Mr. Casablancas came up behind him, startling him a bit and giving him pause.

"You ever shoot before, son?" he asked.

"Uhh, no," Logan answered, pulling the muffs from his ears.

"It's a good way to let off some steam," Dick Sr. said seriously, "But when you're at the point where you want to shoot someone, you wanna take 'em down. You don't wanna wing 'em."

Logan nodded and listened. He'd always been a quick learner.

Seeing he had Logan's attention, Mr. Casablancas pointed down the range and said, "Heart and head. That's where it counts."

An ache settled in Logan's chest at the words. He knew Mr. Casablancas hadn't been speaking about emotions, but if the shoe fit…

"Ain't that the truth," Logan joked cheerfully, a touch of bitterness in his tone.

Mr. Casablancas completely missed the irony. He simply continued with his instruction, "You need to focus. Precision. The ability to only think about the task at hand," he paused a moment and then said, "When I'm working, my family doesn't exist. That sound awful?"

A more loaded question would have been difficult to find but Logan knew the answer expected, "Mmm, no."

"It's not," Mr. Casablancas agreed, then added, "Because when I'm with my family, work doesn't exist." He looked down to spin the barrel of his gun.

Logan took the moment to look over at Dick, sure his friend hadn't handled his father's speech very well. Dick had turned away and looked down at his own gun, facing the range. 'Nope. Not handling it well at all.'

With that knowledge, Logan again took on his harmless jokester persona while inwardly he seethed. He nodded with a tight-lipped smile and said, "I think my father has a similar philosophy. Course, he's a murderer, soo…" He stood up for his friend in the only way he could in that moment and hoped it would be enough. 'At least now Dick should know he's not alone in the douchebag parent club.'

For a few moments, Mr. Casablancas looked utterly confused. Then he let it go with an uncomfortable laugh, deciding Logan couldn't have been serious. He patted Logan on the arm and walked away.

Dick Jr. took the chance to step over. "Hey, we should have some chicks over tomorrow night," he said. 'Of course. How else would he show gratitude for my attempt at standing up to his father?' "My dad's got this banquet at the Grand and he's forcing Kendall to go with him."

"Dude, have you forgotten?" Logan asked, "I live alone."

"Yeah, but only psycho chicks wanna go to 'casa de killer'," Dick stated with a laugh.

Between the lesson from Dick Sr. and the harsh truth from Dick Jr., Logan's blood began to boil. 'Focus and precision, Mr. C? Here's some focus and precision for you.'

He proceeded to look down the range, lift his gun, and with a look of cold, steady rage took a single shot that went straight through the heart. Logan looked down at the gun and up at the target. 'I've got to put this down and walk away. If I don't, someone's gonna get hurt.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, instead of going to hang out with Dick and Cassidy, he met Kendall at the Grand for some loud and boisterous sex. He threw himself into it with a fervor. Anything not to think about all the things that had been on his mind since earlier.

Even while banging Kendall's brains out, a niggling thought nagged at the back of his mind. They were in the suite next door to the presidential. And from what he'd heard, that particular room had been reserved by his former bestie, Duncan.

As always, thoughts of Duncan led straight to memories of Veronica and that just made him fuck Kendall harder. 'I wonder if she's over there right now...' Somehow, the thought motivated him. 'I hope she can hear us through the fucking walls. Goddamit, I hope she's fucking jealous as hell when she hears Kendall come.'

With the whirlwind of thoughts and the flurry of emotions that permeated his being throughout their time together, they were both left winded and sated. At least physically.

When they'd finished their 'business' and he got ready to go, he picked up his coat and wondered, 'Hmm...Will I see Veronica?' The notion had barely gone through his mind and been dismissed when he stepped into the hall and saw her standing outside the next door down.

Ducking his head, he studied her in a way that wrinkled his forehead. His gut tied itself into knots the longer that he watched her. 'She looks like she just had sex.' It hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut and he nearly doubled over. To cover, he leaned against the wall to tie his shoe even though his eyes never left hers.

The guilty look on her face and the fact that she couldn't meet his eyes readily confirmed his suspicions. He had to lock his jaw and take a couple of measured breaths before his trusty defense mode of sarcasm kicked in.

"Hmm," he said, unable to keep himself from setting her up, playing the game, "What's different about you?" He moved toward her and put on his coat. "Did you cut your hair or something?" He asked facetiously. He knew that wasn't it. 'How could she go there? With HIM, after everything he did? Fucking hell this hurts! Get out, Echolls. Get out NOW.'

He didn't know what Veronica thought, but he knew she'd made a bad choice. Duncan had been his best friend for ages, practically his whole life, but he only knew how to stand idly by. He'd ignored her, and slept with her when she'd been dosed, then left her to wake up alone. 'Don't you know that NEVER would have happened with me? Even at my worst?'

The metaphorical knife in his gut twisted and choked him. 'I've gotta get out of here before I lose it,' he thought desperately. But first, he had to go in for the kill, "Ya know, FYI, if the cuddling is the best part, he didn't do it right."

Logan took one more look at her, then turned and walked away. His face felt numb, as if a mask of plaster had been hiding his emotions and as soon as he no longer faced her, it cracked and fell away.

When he entered the elevator, he refused to look back. Pain and agony filled him... along with a very small measure of smug satisfaction. He couldn't risk her seeing any of that.

She'd been shell-shocked, stunned when she saw him walk out that door. And as he punched the button for the lobby, he couldn't help but think bitterly to himself, 'Score one for me. In a game of excruciating pain, I can give as good as I fucking get.'

Chapter Eight

Future Business Leaders of America. It used to be the only extracurricular school activity that Logan could stand. Actually, he found it interesting and almost enjoyable. Until the day that Veronica Mars walked in.

'Fucking hell! She's everywhere! Hard to ignore her when she's pulling shit like this.'

She took a seat between him and Duncan. Rubbing his face in it when they kissed. Logan's stomach churned. He couldn't hide his disgust. More than that. He found he didn't want to.

Dropping his hand and dangling his sandwich, he looked at the pair with contempt. "Now I've lost my appetite."

His words didn't matter. They didn't change a thing. For the entire lunch period while the club met, he tried desperately not to throw up. That and plot his revenge.

Between meetings, Logan thought about how he'd handle the next one. He didn't know if he'd manage to last the semester with the way things were. 'Maybe I can find a way to make it bearable.'

When the 'adorable couple' entered the room the next week, Logan appeared ready but then he faltered. He caught Duncan's eye when he and Veronica entered but the look on her face floored him.

'Something's wrong,' he thought. He almost got up to go ask her about it but then he looked down at the desk and remembered bitterly, 'Oh yeah. It's no longer my problem.'

As the pair approached, he picked up his lunch and made a show of moving out of their way. After that, he put on his armor, got his mask in place, and prepared for whatever may happen.

Then, with purpose and precision, he readied himself to ignore the couple beside him and engage in the discussion about the ridiculous stock market game instead. 'Snark and sarcasm are the keys to my success.'

He used his first key almost immediately, when Mr. Pope walked in and told them they were each worth a million dollars. With a smirk on his face, he piped up, "What? I've lost money?! Heads will roll…"

Mr. Pope pulled up charts and began to drone on, something about his own portfolios. Logan lost focus fast which meant he needed to do something before his thoughts began to wander.

Picking up a pencil, he fiddled with it between his fingers and forced himself to participate by asking, "How much REAL money did you make?"

Mr. Pope responded that he planned to retire in exactly nine months' time. He explained how it had worked, something about returns, and Dick made a smartass jibe. But Logan didn't listen.

While the teacher and his old buddy, Duncan, went back and forth about some stupid-ass sailboat, Logan took the opportunity to study Veronica. The girl he couldn't seem to evict from his mind. 'What's going on with her? There's definitely something wrong. Is it Duncan? I bet it is. God dammit, he doesn't deserve her, but then again, neither do I.'

Logan looked back toward the front just in time to hear Mr. Pope say, "...but the hull had to be refitted twice."

Unable to resist the easy joke that could also be a targeted burn, Logan said with a smirk, "Didn't plug 'er right the first time, huh?" He finished with the end of a pen in his mouth as he casually turned a pointed glance toward Duncan.

Nothing could be more valuable than the startled look on Veronica's face and the outrage the comment provoked in Duncan.

Logan had been itching for a fight with his former friend for quite some time. School wouldn't have been his first choice for a confrontation but it ended up being the easiest.

Duncan leaped at him and they stumbled out into the hallway, crashing hard into the lockers. Once Logan regained his footing, he took a swing at Duncan but hardly paid attention to his own actions. He knew he had the upper hand and that the fight wouldn't be allowed to last long. Instead, he watched over Duncan's shoulder to see who would come to stop them.

When he saw the first person who raced out the door and into the hall, he wasn't disappointed. 'Veronica.' He managed to get one more hit in right before they were separated and the other students herded back in the room. Before she'd been sent away, Logan saw a look on her face that left him feeling quite pleased.

In the nurse's office with Duncan, though, his ire returned. He listened to a little speech about how whoever they were fighting over wouldn't be impressed and that they should both just get over it.

After hearing that, Logan couldn't help pushing the knife in just a little bit deeper before giving it a tiny twist. "Actually, I disagree with Nurse Ratchet. I think Veronica would have been quite impressed. Probably even a little turned on, too."

"Careful, Logan," Duncan looked over his shoulder and taunted him, "You're exposing your soft underbelly."

"My underbelly is rock hard. It can go all night," Logan responded softly, the look on his face morose. 'Why am I even bothering? This is fucking worthless! No, it's not. You know why. You KNOW why.'

"You lost her. I didn't steal her," Duncan declared and that made Logan jump up and head toward him.

"Oh hell with Veronica. She's in the rearview mirror." 'Not quite, but whatever. I'm trying to make a point.' "Where were you this summer, man?"

"What do you mean?" Duncan asked.

'Fuck! He's totally oblivious! All right, dude, I'll lay it out for you, nice and clear.'

"Oh, remember?!" Logan exclaimed, unable to hide how much his best friend's absence and betrayal had hurt him. "There was this little situation, I was accused of murder."

He took a step back and began again, "I am the eye of the storm and I never heard from you. It is a war out there and you're on the sidelines." The pain of Duncan's disloyalty started to overwhelm him to the point that tears began to sting his eyes. "Do you remember when you used to have my back?"

"Wait, I do remember this summer," Duncan stated indignantly and immediately Logan turned away because he knew. He just knew. 'He doesn't get it.'

"I was dealing with this thing. What was it? Oh! Yeah! I remember now." Duncan moved closer with each word, wielding them as if they were his own weapon. "Your dad murdered my sister."

By that time, Duncan stood right in his face and the look in his eyes just killed Logan. He couldn't say anything for a few moments, reeling from the hate and the rage his oldest friend directed at him.

When Duncan turned and started to walk away, Logan finally spoke although he doubted it would make a difference, "I hate him too, you know."

When Duncan disappeared, the nurse returned and started to tend to his knuckles. Logan looked down at his lap. He couldn't keep the tears from springing to his eyes again.

"I'm sorry, does that sting?" said the nurse with concern.

Logan merely turned and looked the other way. 'Yeah, it fucking stings, but not for the reasons you think. I didn't just lose my best friend, lady. I lost the only real family I've ever known.'

After all the backstabbing, betrayal, and overall emotional turmoil, Logan needed an outlet. And no outlet could be better than a full day of meaningless sex. He ditched school the next morning and invited Kendall to come over.

He felt much, much better about himself and the world in general by the time his phone rang and Kendall reached for it. Logan grabbed for it, too, but Kendall got it first. She held it up and read the name on the display.

"Veronica," she said in surprise, "Is my little boy cheating on me?"

The name on her lips instantly ended all his fun. His heart dropped to his stomach and he grabbed for the phone again. 'Why is she calling me? She hasn't called me since...well, since we broke up.'

"She's just someone from school," he told Kendall, trying to play it off casually.

"Ohh, a schoolgirl," Kendall said mockingly, looking down at Logan as if she knew better.

"Yeah," he replied, still trying to stay calm. He didn't want this bimbo to know how Veronica affected him.

"Should we invite her over?" Kendall asked, ready to call his bluff, "I've got a boy toy, a girl toy might spice things up a little."

'Shit. I can NOT let her answer that phone. There's no fucking way I could explain it.'

Suddenly, all pretense lost, he took the phone from her and threw it across the room. "I can handle the spice department myself, thank you very much."

She let him convince her and they went back to what they'd been doing. Pleased with himself and filled with relief, he thought, 'Damn, that was way too close of a call!'

When their play date ended, she headed home and he got in his shower. As he finished up, he thought he heard his bedroom door open. He wrapped himself in a towel and peeked his head around the corner to see what might have made the noise.

After the missed phone call, it didn't surprise him to see Veronica when he stepped from the bathroom out into his room. 'Pesky little thing,' he thought affectionately, 'Look at you just proving that you care. You do care, don't you?' There would always be at least some doubt in his mind.

He didn't say a word. He had no idea what had brought her there. 'Bet she loves seeing me in a towel,' he thought ironically while he waited for her to start, a smirk nearly curling up the corners of his lips. 'Probably a goddamn dream come true.'

"I love what you've done with the place," she said sarcastically as she picked up a lamp that had fallen to the floor.

"Yeah, well," he snarked in response, running a towel over his hair, "Now you know what you were missing."

"Is your girlfriend still here?" Veronica asked, her tone acerbic and only slightly hostile which made him think, 'Ahh, she's jealous! Right?'

"Girlfriend?" He asked as he crossed the room to face her, "Girlfriend," he said again when he confronted her, "You're gonna have to be a little more specific." 'Seriously, what right does she have to be here at all? You gave that up, kitten, remember? YOU broke up with ME.'

"Let me clarify," she said earnestly and with a tinge of disgust as she moved toward him, "The one whose husband is going to break you in half when he finds out that his son's old cub scout camper-ee buddy is secretly plowing his wife."

Logan almost laughed. The fact that she knew about his affair with Kendall delighted him. 'You couldn't stay away, could you? After we met in the hall at the Grand, you HAD to know who had been in the other room with me. Wait. HOW did you say you found out again?'

"Aha! That one is less a girlfriend and more a…" he paused, searching for the right word, "playmate, kind of." He knew she wouldn't like the sound of that but better that than the alternative so he held up his hands as if in surrender.

"I hope you're scared," Veronica said with a self-righteous glare, "on the inside, Logan. What if I had been Mr. Casablancas? What would you have done then, huh? Just standing here in your towel with your room still reeking of bimbo?" The last she said with a tone of disgust.

'She's so cute when she's trying to protect me and be indignant all at once.'

"I s'pose I woulda had some 'splaining to do," he answered in his best Ricky Ricardo imitation. He tried his best to look both serious and bored, as if he were daring the elder Richard Casablancas to find out.

"God, Logan," Veronica exclaimed with a sneer, "What a cliche. Poor little rich boy with a death wish." She looked away a moment then looked back at him in disbelief with just a hint of fear behind her eyes. Fear and anger. "And I used to think it was bad luck that landed you in danger. The knife fight on the bridge, the drive by in your car...but no, now I see that you actually enjoy it, don't you, Logan?"

Essentially, she'd accused him of the same thing when she'd broken up with him. It hadn't been true then and it wouldn't be true now but either way, her words still hurt.

"Well, then I guess I should be grateful to have such a devoted ex-girlfriend looking after me. My very own guardian angel," he pointed out, unable to keep the bitterness and irony from his tone along with a tinge of affection.

"Don't flatter yourself," she fired back just a little too quickly, "The only reason I came here is so I won't have to feel responsible."

"Yeah, yeah," Logan said, rolling his eyes and walking toward his bed before he turned back, "Responsible for what?" he asked critically.

"For taking pictures of you and Kendall playing house," she spat. 'Ahhh, the real reason for her visit is revealed.' "Don't take it the wrong way, Logan. It was a JOB, nothing more."

'Still,' he thought, 'The lady doth protest too much.'

"Right," he said, intent on calling her bluff, "And so you storm out in a burst of professionalism." 'No way in hell is this just a job.'

"I suggest you start locking your doors," Veronica said before she slammed his bedroom door on her way out.

As soon as she left, he hurriedly dressed then went down the stairs to the kitchen. He grabbed an apple and walked down the hall only to find Veronica still there.

'Un-fucking-believable.'

She stared at a poster with her deciphering face on and he almost had to smile. 'She's still working, or something. Not sure what's going on in that head of hers but whatever it is, it's complicated.'

He walked up behind her and lifted his apple toward his mouth but then decided to make his presence known before taking a bite.

"If this is what you call storming out, I'm not sure you understand the concept," he teased but she turned on her heel and strode away. This time she didn't turn back.

Once she had gone, he laughed and shook his head. 'I almost forgot how goddamn much that bitch can make me feel.' He moved to the window and watched her get in her car, start the engine, and pull out of his driveway.

He stared after her, his smile faded, and he took another bite of his apple. 'Jesus Fucking Christ, do I miss her!'

Chapter Nine

He had successfully avoided her for quite some time, but then there she stood, waiting for him, just as he exited the school. As soon as Logan spotted Veronica, he started to turn back inside, but then he realized she'd just follow him.

With his hands on his head in mock surrender, Logan approached her as if she were begging for something. And he hoped his lewd comments would distract her or if not, at least cut their conversation short.

"Okay, I'll relent, just once. But, uh, no cuddling after and I won't call you in the morning," he said as he shrugged his shoulders in a feigned gesture of apology.

Veronica ignored him and got right to her point. "Saturday, September 24th. It was a 2 minute and 23 second phone call on Weevil's cell phone made from your house. The caller claimed that Curly Moran was responsible for the bus crash. The same Curly Moran who's friends with your dad. Any explanation?"

'Holy shit! This is rich! She didn't learn not to blame me the first time? Well, what the hell! Let's have a little fun. Might as well, right?'

"My day is complete. Veronica Mars has accused me of evil." He couldn't resist accompanying his little speech with an exaggerated twirl of his imaginary mustache. He might as well have been auditioning for the part of the villainous cad in some cheesy melodrama. "Hmm, where to start?"

Briefly, Logan considered playing along, helping her out, if he could only figure out what it was she needed to know, but then he thought, 'No. Just NO. This is bullshit. I have no idea what she's talking about anyway!'

"Oh yes," he said, looking at her pointedly, "Who the hell is Curly Moran and how do you know he knows my dad and what conspiracy theory have you pulled out of your ass this time?" By the time Logan finished, he could barely hide his smirk, getting some sort of twisted enjoyment out of engaging with her in this way.

'God do I love those stupid fucking conspiracy theories. I never know what she'll come up with next.'

"The fact, evidenced by the poster in your house, is that Curly Moran was the stunt coordinator on The Long Haul, starring Aaron Echolls circa 1982." Veronica paused a moment which gave him long enough to think, 'So that's what she was doing in my downstairs hall.'

The time for speculation had passed. She started to speak again. "Now, September 24th?"

"Like I have any idea wha - " he began and then something started to nag at him. 'Fuck. That date sounds familiar. Why is that?' "Wait, I think I do remember." Logan started digging in his book bag. "That was the night," he found a wrinkled sheet of paper, pulled it out and showed it to her, "of my Life's Short Party."

"Of course," Veronica said with disdain, "A group of lower middle class Neptune High students plummet to their death and the 09ers throw a party."

'Judgmental bitch. That party was my only way to celebrate the fact that you weren't dead. Not that you'll ever know that. Yet another bit of breaking news that scared me shitless when I heard it from someone other than you.'

"Hence the life's short part," Logan said in annoyance as he stuffed the paper back in his bag. "It was in their honor and in the end, it wasn't just your social betters. In fact, your pal Weevil and his biker boys crashed it."

Hitching up his bag higher on his shoulder, he readied himself to walk away. Then he remembered something and turned back. 'Aw hell. Pretenses be damned.'

"Oh, and, uh...Lamb and a half dozen deputies came by to break it up. Or at least collect the kegs."

"There were five numbers registered to your house. This call came from a number I don't recognize," Veronica persisted.

'Are you ever gonna trust me? I just tried to help! Fuck it. I'm seriously done.'

"Gee willickers, Veronica, it sounds like you're on to something. Maybe the pool boy did it," He said in his equivalent to a dumb blonde tone. Then he twisted his bare wrist to show her the time on his non-existent wristwatch and walked away. Her implication so annoyed him that he ranted to himself for an hour before taking out his annoyance on a 'kill 'em all' video game.

By the time he got to homeroom the next morning, Logan had decided he'd had enough. When someone suggested that Veronica be nominated as homecoming queen, he couldn't help his wisecrack retort, utterly fueled by bitterness. "Veronica Mars, saving the world one pointless act at a time."

A mild debate broke out regarding Veronica's worthiness of the sacred homecoming queen title. As others discussed the attributes and downfalls of Logan's ex-girlfriend, he noticed the new girl sitting in front of him.

She laughed at the descriptions of Veronica's helpfulness. Then she turned and caught his eye, giving him the opportunity to demonstrate for her a closed-lip smile of appreciation. 'Hmmm...I may have discovered a worthy distraction. Get my mind off the exhausting pain in the ass that is Veronica Mars.'

When they announced the homecoming court in homeroom the next morning, several students around him were bummed that Veronica hadn't been chosen.

Again, Logan couldn't resist the snark. With his most exaggerated look of false sympathy, he offered his condolences. "There's always winter carnival. Veronica can be an ice princess." 'Damn straight,' he thought, 'She's the fucking queen of being emotionally frozen.'

To his surprise, the gorgeous girl in front of him faked a gasp and turned toward him enough to ask, "Can we skate on her?"

Smiling, his thoughts raced quickly as he turned on the charm. "I don't remember hearing your name called. Seems like a bit of an oversight." 'Maybe homecoming can be saved after all...going with this tight ass bitch could be fun.'

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him but he knew his words had found their mark. 'Now, do I ask her to the dance or wait till we're there and sweep her off her feet?'

By the time the bell rang, he'd slipped her a note with his cell number and left the ball in her court.

On his way to his truck after school, a seemingly unrepentant but newly transformed Duncan accosted him.

"So, I was thinking...you're an emancipated minor, I'm an emancipated minor. Maybe we should get together Thursday night. Chug cough syrup, mug some old ladies," Duncan joked while Logan studied him warily.

"Golly, I don't know. I was thinking about staying home, making a hope quilt for the lonely," Logan rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look directly at his former best friend. 'What are you up to, Donut? Tossing out an olive branch to ease your guilt? Or wanting to gloat about getting the girl? I don't want to hope that you're really sincere. It would hurt too much if you're not.'

"A little Hot Shots?" Duncan tried coaxing him, "Golf Tourney? Room service?"

'Fuck. Maybe he really is trying to re-kindle our sadly strained friendship.'

"All right. You're on," Logan replied with a small yet vulnerable and appreciative smile. 'What the hell. It's worth a try, anyway.'

Logan spent the week keeping himself busy and staying out of trouble. By the time Thursday night arrived, he couldn't wait for some company other than his own.

Things between Duncan and him seemed almost normal as they settled down to start their game. Duncan teased him about his video game prowess while giving a cheesy speech.

"Ya know, this visit is all about mending fences, building bridges…and I'm afraid that my waxing your ass just isn't going to help."

Logan guffawed in disbelief, then responded confidently, "You talk it. Let's see you walk it."

Their tournament lasted a couple hours before Duncan suggested they watch TV while they ate dinner. Without waiting for Logan to answer, he grabbed the remote and turned it on, flipping through the channels. He stopped abruptly when he saw a stage with none other than Veronica Mars seated on it.

"Dude, what the hell? Why is Veronica talking to a psychic?" Logan commented, sitting back on the floor, grabbing for the remote so he could turn the sound up.

"No idea," Duncan shrugged, elbows on his knees as he sat forward to listen, "Unless, maybe, it's for a case?"

They listened intently as the psychic droned on and on about Veronica's fictional and deceased Uncle Roger. The longer she talked, the more certain Logan became. 'Veronica's playing this chick.'

He opened his mouth to make a smartass remark when he heard something completely unexpected.

'Wait, I am receiving another voice. A young woman. I see...the letter L. She's holding out a flower...a...lily. Lilly?'

Logan's jaw dropped. He stared at the screen in disbelief. Quickly, he shot a glance at Duncan and saw the expression on his friend's face mirrored his own. 'What the fuck is going on here?!'

'She has a message for you.'

Suddenly, the air in the suite thickened and filled with tension. 'Damn...Veronica looks terrified...this shit must be real! No...no way. It can't be. Can it…?'

'She says, you should have stayed away from her boyfriend.'

Eyes huge, Logan's mouth went dry. He turned to stare at Duncan but Duncan's gaze remained glued to the TV. 'How the hell could she know that? No way Veronica talked to anyone there about me!'

The show went to commercial but neither of the boys could speak. They sat and they stared uncomfortably until the psychic returned. When she did, she said she had more. Something about an infomercial.

By that point, concern filled Logan. 'If this woman knows about me and Veronica, what else might she bring up?'

What she said next didn't make a bit of sense but the look of understanding that he watched dawn on Veronica's face told Logan that she'd been had.

The sense of relief that he felt overwhelmed him. The info that broad knew had thrown him off at first. 'But still, how did she know about me and Veronica? Shit. I don't think I want to know.'

He didn't stay long after that. Things became awkward and he said that he needed to go. When he got home, he tried to settle into bed but his thoughts kept rolling around in his head. 'I've got to stop obsessing over this. What will get my mind off it? Hmm...maybe I'll give that new chick a call.'

Picking up his phone, he dialed the number he'd found for her. It rang and rang until it finally went to voicemail. While he listened to her lengthy message, he stood and strode across the room, reaching for his open bottle of Jack Daniels.

Tipping the bottle back, Logan took a long draw of the dark amber liquor. Then he smacked his lips and waited for the tone before beginning to talk. 'At least I know I've got the right number...'

"Your message, dear Nubian Princess, is absurd. It's just so damn long. So long, in fact, that I forgot what I was calling about." He paused. "Oh yes, the fucking homecoming dance. I was going to ask if you would be there. I'm not sure if I'll go but if I do, we should, you know, dance."

With a smirk, he hung up and promptly thought, 'Well well, this should certainly make things interesting. Until now, I wasn't even sure I would go. I guess I just gave myself a reason to make an appearance.'

Breezing easily through the next day, he determined to give as little thought as possible to Veronica. By the time of the dance, he appeared in a button-down shirt and his favorite suit jacket standing by the refreshment table, looking around the room.

When Jackie arrived, she made her way over to him. Her eyes were glazed and she stumbled a bit. 'Well shit. She's baked. Wonder what the hell she took and if she saved some for me.'

She told him she'd mixed a few things and she had no more so he shrugged and asked her to dance. The fast number that had been playing quickly faded to something slower. He swayed with her in his arms and tried to make the most of it.

When she kissed him, things weren't so bad at first. But then she wouldn't let go. 'She's stumbling and losing it. Goddamn, she's a total mess. What the fuck am I going to do?'

Before he could figure anything out, Veronica stalked over, tearing Jackie from his arms. 'Fuck that's hot! Is she jealous?! No...maybe...yes? What the hell do I know!'

"Jackie. You wanna lock horns with me, duck and charge, but if you think I'm gonna let you break Wallace's heart for sport, you have grossly underestimated my wrath."

'Ahhh, so, not me. That baller dude she hangs out with. Lucky guy, that Wally,' he thought sardonically, a little hurt and disappointed until he heard the next words out of Jackie's mouth and couldn't help his responding smirk.

"God, Veronica, what is your problem? You really can't make up your mind, can you?" She started to move away and then turned around again, "Just...pick...ONE of them. God! How many guys here do you expect to want only you?"

'Ouch. Score one for Jackie. Volley to Veronica?'

He saw the look on Veronica's face when she caught sight of Wallace. 'Orrr...not.' He ducked his head and messed with his buttons, pretending not to have seen. Instead, he tried to alleviate the tension. "So, where's the after-party?"

It didn't work. Veronica still hurried away and Duncan rushed after her. Only Jackie remained. At that point, he would rather have been left alone.

Chapter 10

After homecoming, Logan found himself in need of distraction. He only hung out with Duncan on Thursdays, the one time he could be sure that Veronica wouldn't be around. He couldn't hang out with Dick because Dick knew about his little fling with Kendall and he wasn't quite sure how Dick would react. So Logan was making a habit of ducking and dodging his friend.

Instead of being bored or wallowing, he spent a lot of time with the other 09ers. It paid off, keeping him busy and mostly out of trouble, too. He only got into it with Weevil and the PCHers twice that week and he even got invited to a party at the new mayor's place on election night.

Logan mingled and drank and generally enjoyed himself, until he bumped into Dick. 'Shit.' He ducked his head and braced himself, waiting for the onslaught that never came.

Instead, Dick simply said, "Dude? My step-mom?"

Unable to meet Dick's eyes, Logan managed an uncomfortable apology. "I am a total piece of crap."

"Better you than the cable guy, I guess," Dick responded, "I'd be lyin' if I said I'd never perved on your mom when she was prancin' around in that hardly there bikini of hers."

Dick might as well have punched Logan in the gut. He didn't say anything, though, just looked at the floor and gave a little nod. 'Fuck, it's a blow but I deserve it.' It took a few moments for him to quell the hurt and the rage. 'How the hell does he think it's ok to compare Kendall with my MOM? Kendall's barely an adult and like his fourth or fifth step-mom!'

When he finally calmed himself, he managed to say, "Great. So, no hard feelings?" He just wanted to get out of there but Dick wouldn't let it rest.

All smiles and smarm, Dick punched him in the arm and answered as if it were the greatest joke of all time, "No, she gave me a few."

It made Logan extremely uncomfortable to hear his mom referred to as the object of a lustful teenager's fantasy. But he wasn't about to prolong this conversation by cluing Dick in. Instead, he chose to bite his tongue and walk away.

For the next hour, possibly more, he moved pretty regularly from group to group. After his encounter with Dick, he no longer felt like partying but no way in hell would he go home and mope.

Instead, he made himself disappear in the crowd. Never in his life had he felt so alone. He hated people but they loved him, not that a single damn one of them really knew him. He was sitting in the corner of a sofa thinking about that when one of the sheriff's deputies came through the door.

Moments later, Deputy Sacks approached and said in his Barney Fife manner, "Sheriff would like to have a word with you."

Having had enough of this shit for a lifetime, Logan stared coldly at Sacks and said in annoyance, "And I'd like to be the creme filling in an Olsen twin sandwich. But…"

Sacks tried again, "Will you come with me, please?"

Not just annoyed now but thoroughly pissed off, Logan threw back at him, "If I'm under arrest then do me the favor of making it all official-like." He stood, turned his back, and placed his hands behind him as Sacks shook his head and took out the cuffs.

"Logan Echolls - "

Logan interrupted, his teeth gritted as the metal bit into his wrists, "That's more like it."

"You're under arrest for the murder of Felix Toombs."

Anger and fear mixed together, the one covering the other as Logan said, "Ooh. I am having the weirdest deja vu right now."

Sacks continued with the Miranda. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot find one, you'll be appointed one by the court."

In disbelief, Logan turned to look at Sacks. 'This man must be insane. Why would I need an attorney for this fucking charade? They've already let me go once because they had no evidence!'

In the squad car on the way to the station, Logan kept up a running dialogue, taunting and tormenting Sacks. Sacks turned up the radio but Logan refused to let himself be tuned out.

"You're such a fucking sheep, Sacks. You have no idea what you're doing."

Eventually, they arrived at the station where Sacks led Logan to Lamb's office. Apparently the election had just been called because the entire office appeared to be partying. Lamb would remain sheriff for another term.

With Logan on a chair in front of Lamb, and Lamb seated on the edge of the desk, the newly re-elected sheriff cleared his throat and began his questioning.

"Now, you wanna tell me again what happened on that bridge? I've just received some new information."

Logan repeated everything he'd said before, still omitting the information about the delivery driver. Lamb looked like he was about to gloat but Sacks interrupted to tell him he had a phone call.

After motioning for Sacks to take a message, Lamb smirked and told Logan, "And here I thought you were smart, kid. Well, buddy, we've got a witness. The good kind. Dr. Thomas Griffith just informed us that he saw you on that bridge and watched you kill Felix."

'Oh please. Since when can a delivery driver be mistaken for a doctor? Not a chance! Who the hell does this fucking idiot think he is?' He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous remark, then stated dryly, "He's lying. No clue why. Don't particularly care, either."

"Well then," Lamb said, appearing as if he had taken Logan's words as a personal challenge, "Let's put you in a line-up and see what happens."

Next thing Logan knew, he stood with several other guys of varying height and style. He waited patiently, unmoving, not quite sure what to expect. Somehow, though, it came as no surprise when he heard through the speaker system, "Number four, step forward."

'Of course. What a fucking farce.' He stepped forward even as his mind raced. 'Guess I'd better give a damn fine performance.'

"Oh, wow! I'm just stunned." One hand grasped the other in front of him, a fake smile plastered to his face, "You like me! You REALLY like me!" His bravado managed to cover the fear and the pain.

"Well first, I'd just like to say to the other nominees," he went on, "you are all such wonderfully gifted criminals," he paused a moment to glance at each one, "And I want to thank my agent, my publicist, for always shooting me from the left side." He tapped his chin on the left and grinned.

A deputy came up to him then and said, "Let's go."

"Hmm," he said as the deputy led him off. He just loved the irony of it. 'Goddamn. I'm a fucking fantastic thespian. I almost convinced myself that I don't give a shit about this mess. Daddy Dearest would be so proud.'

Outside the booking office, Lamb re-joined him. Logan seethed when he saw the man's smug smile. He wanted to punch Lamb when he dared to tell him, "You might want to get a lawyer."

Lifting both hands and motioning around him, Logan could barely control himself as he again scoffed, "What? For this charade? Just give me the first sober public defender you find in the hall. Put the bail on my black AmEx and call me a limo."

"Actually, buddy," Lamb said in triumph, "it's kinda hard to get bail without a hearing. And even if you make it before a judge, I draw a lot of water in town and I got this feeling you might just get declared a flight risk."

'What the fuck…?' Logan sat forward, brows raised and forehead wrinkled in surprise. "Hmm?" 'How the hell can he manage that?!'

After he was booked, a deputy took him to an interrogation room and left him alone to await whatever attorney the court appointed. Sitting there waiting, he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The longer he sat there with nothing but his own thoughts for company, the more his imagination began to run wild with unpleasant possibilities.

'This can't be happening. Not when I'm innocent. Tell me this isn't karma coming to kick my ass!'

By the time the lawyer arrived, Logan had nearly fallen asleep. His head rested on his arm when a slick and smarmy but familiar attorney opened the door. 'That's the guy Veronica asked to help me last time...'

His lawyer walked in with what looked like a somewhat pitying smile. He set his briefcase on the table and sat across from Logan. In response, Logan folded his hands on the table in front of him and looked at the guy with a guarded but slightly hopeful acknowledgment of recognition.

'Still, better not to show my hand when I don't know what cards have been dealt. Need to come up with something snarky to say…well, he was fucking late and I'm definitely annoyed about that. Who did he think he was dealing with?'

"So, my tax dollars at work." Logan said the first thing that came to his mind. When he received no response, he continued, "Where were you? Getting thirds at the crazy girls lunch buffet?" He propped his elbows on the table and rested his head on his still-clasped hands.

In a move that impressed even Logan, the man across from him didn't miss a single beat. "Actually, they discontinued the buffet. Some health code thing." The attorney then opened up his notebook and gave his typical shpiel as if they'd never met before. "Okay, my name is Cliff. I'll be your if-you-cannot-afford-an-attorney attorney."

Without giving Logan time to respond, Cliff then got down to business, "So, what are you trying to prove?"

His brows rose and his forehead wrinkled as it had earlier. Rather snidely, he replied, "Um, my innocence?"

"No, I mean with this poor little rich boy stunt," Cliff stated plainly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

'That's the same thing Veronica said to me.' That fact made Logan bristle.

Before Logan could defend himself, Cliff had moved on, "Having me represent you doesn't make you look innocent. It makes you look like an arrogant jackass. If the witness's story holds, you ARE going to trial."

Still annoyed, Logan pretended to nod thoughtfully for a moment. "Mm-Hmm..." Then he narrowed his gaze at Cliff. "The guy's lying."

Cliff took out his notes and read, "June 27th, you gave testimony saying you couldn't remember a thing."

Closing his eyes, Logan thought, 'Shit, well that lie came back to bite me in the ass.'

But Cliff had already continued. "Now he comes forward saying he saw you, bloody knife in hand, ranting like a maniac over a dead body."

Logan responded forcefully, "And what exactly did I say, huh?"

Again, Cliff began to reads. "The expletive racial expletive had it maternal expletive coming. But wait! There's more. You then threatened to use your father's money to have said witness killed. Now, true or not, Logan, the Echolls name will not buy you a lot of jury love. Not to me-" Cliff's phone rang and interrupted him.

Reaching for his inside pocket after lifting a finger to signal Logan to wait, the lawyer answered it. "It's Cliff."

Logan looked bored but he listened to his attorney's side of the conversation, wondering who had called him.

"No can do. I'm right in the middle - "

'What does this person want him to do? Hello! Dude, you're supposed to be focused on me right now! HANG UP THE PHONE!'

"I owe you? Who unconfiscated all your fake college IDs?"

'Ok, this is getting interesting...fake IDs? I could benefit from a new one of those…'

"Well, who helped put the lien against Lee's Walk-in Donut?"

'What the - ?! I don't even want to know about that...'

Logan noted when Cliff sighed in defeat.

"All right. Who am I calling and what am I giving them?" Cliff grabbed a scrap piece of paper and jotted down a note before he said, "Right." He then hung up and started dialing again. He looked at Logan and held up another finger. "Just…"

Impatient but helpless to do anything about it, Logan rolled his eyes.

Then Cliff began again, this time in a harried voice. "Hello? My…my daughter's disappeared. She left her husband and ran off with some wild girlfriend."

Watching closely, Logan started to figure things out.

Cliff spoke in a rush and the more he said, the more sure Logan became that his idea about who had called had been accurate.

"I think they got into some kind of trouble but I'm sure it's not her fault. The police said they were headed to Mexico but no one's seen them."

Eyes filled with admiration in spite of himself, Logan smirked. 'He's doing this for Veronica. I'm sure of it. Clever bitch has practically the whole town wrapped around her little finger.'

"I just need to know if she's ok. Please, could you tell me if she's used her card?" After a brief pause, Cliff repeated, "uhh...09223346."

With a grin, Logan asked, "Isn't that Thelma and Louise?"

Cliff glared at him, then said into the phone, "Can you email that? vmars . Thank you. Bless you." Finally, Cliff hung up.

Unable to keep himself from commenting, Logan completely deadpanned, "That daughter of yours sounds like a real handful."

Without apologizing, Cliff responded, "This...is what I'm good at. Murky murder cases...nah. Now Lamb wants to keep you here supposedly to ease community tensions, but really it's 'cause he's mean. Now, do the smart thing and put daddy's money to work and get a real lawyer. Or three."

Without another word, Cliff got up and walked out.

Chapter 11

Lamb burst into the interrogation room, pulling Logan to his feet and leading him out into the corridor, down several hallways until they arrived at a door that would take them to lock-up. Trying to look as cool and unaffected as he could manage, Logan glanced back at Lamb with a glare before the sheriff placed him in a cell. A metallic clang sounded, signaling that the door had been closed and locked behind him.

"So, um, when do I get my conjugal visit?" Logan asked. His words were joking but in the back of his mind he thought, 'I could seriously use some form of release about now...'

Lamb smirked in response, raising a red flag for Logan while bringing up every last one of his defenses. The man appeared entirely too pleased with himself and his words caused even more confusion. "It's up to your new roommate."

Logan looked around but then an all-too-familiar voice stopped him and he froze.

"Logan?"

'Oh shit. Are you fucking kidding me?! What the hell is he doing here?'

Slowly, he turned, unable to hide the look of horror on his face. It wasn't until his father spoke that he snapped out of it.

"What are you doing here?"

Shaken but more on edge and defensive than anything, Logan responded, "Come on, pops, jail's where they put accused murderers. You remember that crap from the summer." Brows raised, forehead wrinkled, he gave his father a pointed look. "Why are you here?"

"They transferred me out of county this morning. I guess our sheriff has a soft spot for family," Aaron commented before he attempted to take control of the conversation, "Well! At least I know what it takes to get a visit out of you. Those special times with your emancipation paperwork don't really count."

The muscles in Logan's jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with growing anger, "I just need a little time to work through how you bashed my girlfriend's skull in."

Calmly, almost as if he were talking to an errant child, Aaron said, "Logan. I made an unforgivable mistake. But I am NOT a murderer."

Logan exploded. "Oh, so you merely plowed my girlfriend and taped it for your home collection."

"I don't expect any sympathy from you," Aaron said with such calm and lack of emotion that Logan wanted to punch him.

Instead, he bit back bitter tears and spit out, "That's good," in response. 'You'll never get any sympathy from me, you motherfucking psycho.' Logan's fists were clenched as he tried to control himself.

Unfortunately, Aaron wasn't done. In fact, to Logan's dismay, he was apparently just getting started.

"You, you have no idea what actually happened that day," he began dramatically.

Having walked over to the barred window, Logan looked over his shoulder at his father and scoffed, "Pop, I have a pretty good idea."

Hastily, Aaron shook his head and disagreed, "No no. Keith Mars got it partly right, yeah, ok. Lilly and I fought and I followed her home, but not to hurt her, I swear to God."

Logan couldn't believe how much his father seemed to relish the opportunity to dust off and demonstrate his loathsome acting chops.

Still, Aaron prattled on, "Duncan found us. He must have heard everything because he was furious. He was out of his mind. I mean, he was ranting and raving - "

Unable to take it anymore, Logan cut him off. "So, what, Duncan killed Lilly?" He turned slowly from the window to face his father, eyeing him with disbelief. "Wow!"

Aaron opened his hands in a gesture meant to portray innocence. "All I know is I got out. The next thing, it was all over the news."

'Whatever. There's no fucking way I'm letting him think he can explain everything away that easily.'

Every muscle in Logan's body tensed, ready for action. He stared his father down, refusing to blink as he added disdainfully to the previous accusation, "So you tried to kill another girl. Also a girlfriend of mine. What, to maintain your innocence?"

Obviously trying to look innocent, Aaron confessed, "I just snapped. Logan, I lost it. But - " He stopped when Logan shook his head and laughed, turning to look back out the barred window. He had a hint of despair in his tone when he started again, "You don't believe me. Why should the jury believe me?" He sighed and shook his head. "Maybe my life is over."

With a shrug, Logan responded, too tired to even show any emotion, "Yeah, maybe."

Aaron started again immediately, this time taking a different track. "But you shouldn't throw yours away just to spite me. Come on, Logan. Let me help you. Let me call some guys down at the firm." He sounded eager now. The ever-doting father.

"They gave me a lawyer," Logan said both defensively and dismissively.

Scoffing, Aaron stated, "I mean a real lawyer. Not some public defender with a mail order diploma and a $300 suit."

Both men had been so absorbed in their own conversation that they had missed Cliff's arrival. They turned toward the main corridor when they heard, "Two for $500, actually, but your point remains valid." Cliff paused, pointing at Logan after looking him over, "You, you got bail. Let's go."

Surprised beyond measure, Logan couldn't help his stuttering words, "Bail? Wha- How? You sa-you said - "

Cliff interrupted him to explain, "Jeff Bloom and I go to the same gym. I'll be billing you for a case of cohibas and a 4-handed Thai massage. There's also the matter of a two-hundred thousand dollar bond. So, chip, how 'bout you thank me by taking the old block's advice? Get a new lawyer."

Logan paused to think, then responded sincerely, "Well...you're kinda winning me over."

It seemed to take forever to get through the 'debriefing' where Logan got his things back. Before long, though, he found himself sitting smugly in the back of Lamb's cop car, his hands clasped behind his head. He couldn't resist the urge to push the sheriff's buttons.

"Best thing about two days in jail? Two days worth of Ellen on the Tivo. That's a sweet feeling."

Lamb barely acknowledged him and instead he asked with a frown, "What's your address again?"

They pulled up to the Echolls estate where chaos had broken out. Red and blue lights had spread an ominous glow into the night. More than one type of siren sounded loudly into the chilled evening air. Billowing smoke blurred the view and made Logan choke. Rescue workers were everywhere.

Utter terror ran along every nerve of Logan's body making him feel like a stranger in his own skin. 'What the fuck?! Who the hell would do this?' He'd already lost so much. Now what little he had left was gone. Vanished with the flames and billowing smoke. 'Who could be this cruel? Is there really someone who hates me this much?' A name came to mind. It was the only one that made sense. 'Weevil.' It had to be him. No one else would dare.

In spite of the situation, Lamb looked over his car and smirked at Logan, "That's gonna mess up your Tivo."

At that point, Logan didn't even care. He wove his way through the crowd and the barriers, telling anyone who tried to stop him, "That's my house."

By the time he made it to the gated entrance and could see the damage firsthand, it was clear that every memento, every small reminder of anything good that had ever happened to him had vanished, buried beneath the rubble.

"Holy shit…" he breathed as he looked on, what felt like a brick weighing down his gut. Numb and disoriented, he could only think, 'What now?'

Somehow, his truck had been salvaged. After answering a million and one questions and what seemed like forever, the authorities released it to him and allowed him to leave. Their condolences and sympathies didn't even register.

He sat at the wheel, almost like he had once before, wondering to himself where he should go and what he should do. The last time he'd found himself in a messed up situation, things had been different. Going to Veronica was no longer an option. Instead, he made his way to the Grand and the only person he could think of who might not turn him away.

Outside Duncan's door, Logan took a moment to try to pull himself together. He'd seen his reflection in the elevator door, and the only word that had come to mind was 'disheveled'. He knocked on the door, stood back, and held his breath. 'Please don't let Veronica be here. Please don't let Veronica be here.' No way in hell could he handle seeing her just then.

Several moments later, Duncan answered the door. He looked shocked when he took in his friend's appearance in spite of the efforts Logan had made to make himself more presentable.

"What the hell happened to you?" Duncan asked incredulously.

His voice rough and raw, Logan responded, "Mind if I come in?"

Duncan swung the door open and ushered Logan past him. Logan made his way to the couch and took a seat. He rested his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and mumbled, "I'm fucked."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Duncan asked, still standing as he waited for an answer.

"It means," Logan started, too tired to sound distraught, "Not only do I have another arrest on my record, not only do I have to try to figure out who wants me to go down for murder and why, but my house has been reduced to ash and rubble. Everything I own but the clothes on my back is gone."

His words were met with silence as he looked down at his open and empty hands.

Finally, Duncan moved to sit beside him on the couch, putting a hand on his shoulder as he said, "You'll stay here. You can borrow some of my stuff till you can get yours replaced. We emancipated minors have to stick together."

Relieved and not willing to argue, Logan nodded and glanced up as he said, "I'm exhausted, man. As long as you're sure about this, where can I crash?"

Duncan showed him to the second master bedroom, brought him a towel and a change of clothes, then left him alone. In five minutes flat, Logan was dead to the world.

Logan woke the next morning feeling refreshed. He took a look at the clothes Duncan had left for him and shook his head with a laugh of disbelief. 'No fucking way am I wearing this preppy-ass shit in public. No offense, bro, but this calls for a trip to the department store with my black AmEx. School will have to wait.'

By lunch, Logan was back at the top of his game. He sat at a table outside next to Dick where he lifted his foot to the bench and showed off his ankle monitor. They'd been talking for quite some time and Dick was just soaking it all in.

"...and the other sweet thing is that I'm in constant video contact with Martha Stewart, right? Kinda like a Dick Tracy kinda thing."

Dick gave him a look of awe and slapped him on the back while Weevil approached from behind them.

The bald biker held up a paper and demanded, "Hey! What the hell is this?"

Snatching the paper from Weevil's hand and scanning it, Logan said, "Hmm...Ichsta? Una?" He turned to Dick and asked disdainfully, "What is their word for paper?"

Immediately, Dick responded, "Pay-pair-o?"

Anger boiled beneath the surface but Logan held himself together as he pretended to be helpful. "Ok, I'll translate. Just don't tell the ESL teacher that I helped you cheat. That's an eviction notice."

In disbelief, Weevil asked, "You bought my grandmother's house?"

Logan smirked victoriously as he looked up at the person he was sure had burned down his house. "That's right. Su casa is mi casa. But in my defense, Weevil. I do need a new one. You might have heard that my former domicile was burned, quite unexpectedly."

It was Weevil's turn to get angry and he started to threaten, "If you kick my family ou-"

Interrupting him, Logan said almost gleefully, "Oh, have it your way. We'll all live together. One big wacky sitcom family. On second thought, I'm kicking you out. And on third thought, I wouldn't live in that roach motel if you put a gun to my-"

Weevil whacked the pizza that Logan had been about to take a bit of right from his hand, splattering sauce on Logan's face.

On his feet in an instant, Logan whirled around and said menacingly, "I was enjoying that."

Through gritted teeth, Weevil said, getting in Logan's face, "Not as much as I'm gonna enjoy this."

Accepting the challenge, Logan glared back, "Oh yeah? Yeah?"

Weevil pushed Logan, causing him to take a step back.

After blocking a couple hits, Logan pushed the leader of the PCHers back.

Before things could go any further, a teacher who had seen what was happening stepped between them and said, "Hey hey, break it up. Come on, guys. School's not the place for this kind of thing."

From several feet away, Logan sneered, "You hear that? School is a place of learning."

Not to be deterred, Weevil came back at him threateningly with, "You might wanna think of what prison is a place of."

When classes were dismissed, Logan headed to the beach. He needed some time to think and de-stress. He always kept his wetsuit and surfboard in the back of his truck so after a couple hours of sun and waves, he felt much more relaxed.

Arriving back at the Grand, he showered off the salt water and, having no plans to go back out, he dressed in Duncan's ridiculously preppy argyle sweater. Checking his image in the mirror, he scoffed at himself and shook his head. 'Nice gesture and all but damn, this thing is fucking ugly.'

Since his roommate hadn't arrived yet, Logan lay down on the couch with a magazine and quickly fell asleep.

He woke again when he heard the door to the suite open. He figured it was Duncan so he didn't bother moving. 'Don't really feel like being sociable at the moment...best bud or not.'

Next thing he knew, though, he felt a familiar petite form lying on top of him. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around her and settled in for a wholly contented single, solitary moment.

If it hadn't been for his wicked sense of irony, he would have stayed quiet and simply enjoyed himself. Instead, he felt compelled to speak up.

His voice dripping with amusement, he said, "It's the sweater, isn't it?"

The magazine was immediately lifted from his face. He stared mockingly into her deep blue eyes and went deadpan. "Chicks can't resist argyle."

Obviously flustered and indignant but trying to hide it, Veronica demanded petulantly, "Please let go of me."

As she got up, Logan sat up as well and said, completely unrepentant, "Ever the tease."

Before Veronica could say anything further, Duncan entered from his bedroom, and when he saw them there he stopped, looking guilty.

"What is he doing here?" Veronica asked in her most accusatory manner.

Standing up, Logan answered for himself. "Aw, didn't ya hear? I'm out of house. I live here now." He brushed past Veronica and headed toward his room.

He hadn't yet closed his door when he heard Duncan say, "Sorry I didn't tell ya."

'Something tells me this little situation is likely to turn hella awkward...and fast.'

Chapter Twelve

As if it had been prophesied, when Logan walked into the suite a couple of days later, he found Duncan and Veronica making out on the couch. To make his presence known in the hopes that they would cease their face sucking, he slammed the door shut, tossed his keys on the ledge by the door, and dropped his backpack.

"Where's my martini and why don't I smell pot roast?" he wise-cracked when the noise he'd provided didn't manage to break the couple apart. 'That oughta do the trick.'

The pair jumped back and turned their eyes to the television screen, their expressions somewhere between guilty and embarrassed. 'There. Task number one accomplished. Good job, Logan. Now it's on to task number two.

Steeling himself for an afternoon with his best friend and his ex, Logan's mind spun with ideas. Somehow, some way, he planned to make being a third wheel into an art form. He had every intention of turning that little cliche on its head.

Before heading to the couch, he bought himself some time. Removing his jacket and draping it across the chair, he took a deep mental breath and slouched down comfortably beside Veronica.

"Hey, you're watching The Big Lebowski. Why didn't you wait for me?"

Duncan responded in a somewhat repressed tone. "I didn't know when you were coming home."

Not to be put off, Logan continued to deliberately push Duncan's buttons. It could never be said that the two weren't competitive. "Well, you know, when you asked me to move in, I thought it was because you wanted to spend more time together."

Obviously understanding the game, Veronica glared at Logan and interjected, "You just missed the supermarket scene."

Before he could say anything more, a knock sounded at the door. "And there's my room service."

He pushed himself up and headed to the door but before he was even halfway there, he turned and forcefully shoved the giant elephant in the room out of the closet. "Seriously, though. I was reading Third Wheel: A Beginner's Guide and we should come up with some kind of code word for when you two are feeling frisky and, uh, don't wanna be disturbed."

Veronica's head jerked toward Logan, her words a challenge. "Like 'scram'?"

"I was thinking 'awkward'," Logan countered, changing his tone to one that would grate on every one of Veronica's nerves, "But scram's good. Or am-scray."

Without waiting for a response, he turned to open the door to someone who was, as it turned out, definitely not room service.

"You're not my grilled cheese," he stated to Kendall with a flourish.

She shook her head and said, "Noooo," before sashaying through the entryway.

A rather high-pitched, "Hmm," of appreciation was Logan's response as he watched her walk past, mentally rubbing his hands at Kendall's perfect timing. 'Oh can I have some fun with this.'

Inhaling deeply through his nose, he rapidly contemplated the numerous possibilities.

Kendall stopped in her tracks and made things even more interesting while Logan stood behind her, amused.

"iPod girl. With the waxy-eared boyfriend," Kendall remarked, "Small world."

Logan wondered what Kendall meant by that remark as he noted the guilty look on Veronica's face.

"Like thiiis big," came Veronica's response as she held her thumb and forefinger extremely close together to emphasize her point.

Knowing it would irk Veronica, and that she was watching, Logan pointedly glanced down at Kendall's ass and waggled his eyebrows as the vivacious vixen sauntered by him and headed toward his room.

He started to follow her, then stopped. Narrowing his eyes at Veronica, he smugly got in one last dig. "My code word will be...endurance." 'Something you could have found out for yourself if you hadn't left me.' He gave her a finger wave and another raise of his eyebrows, turned on his heel and left the room.

As he entered his bedroom, though, his mind was racing. 'What was that flicker of uncertainty I saw in Veronica's eyes?'

Kendall, as expected, was already posing on his bed like some Victoria's Secret model minus the lingerie. He took her in appreciatively and stepped closer as he tried desperately to push thoughts of Veronica from his mind.

Stripping unceremoniously with Kendall's help, he knelt on the edge of the bed with a wide grin. Before he could make a move, however, he found himself distracted by a muted conversation coming from the other room.

'Did Veronica just refuse to go back to making out with Duncan?' It was a novel concept, especially if one were to consider that her rejection had been provoked by him.

The look on Logan's face became triumphant and predatory, eliciting a squeal of anticipation from Kendall as she waited for him to pounce.

More and more sure of what he'd heard, he replayed the last few minutes in the living room over and over in his mind even as he rolled around on the bed with Kendall.

'She must not be as indifferent to me as she'd like to be.' He attacked his fuck-toy with fervor, relishing the thought. 'Now that is something I can work with.'

The next day during FBLA, Logan was significantly distracted. His thoughts had turned toward staying out of jail. It was bad enough that they had him on a leash. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his freedom for good. Especially when he didn't deserve it.

What he needed was help from Veronica. But to make that happen he needed a plan, and to formulate a plan required him to think about the reasons he found himself in his current situation.

He'd spiraled when he'd lost his friends, his family, his home. He'd pissed off the PCHers, been accused of murder, and now he was being framed. Nothing he'd done had helped him and now his options for assistance were limited. There was no one left to bail him out or give a damn what happened to him. Except Veronica. If he could just convince her to take an interest in his life, his well-being, again.

While his brain was occupied traveling this depressing path, contemplating how alone he was, his fingers absently twisted and twirled his pen around each digit and across his knuckles. He barely heard a word that Mr. Pope said.

"You're in the pink. You're in the red. You're on top of the world. You're sleeping in the gutter without a penny to your name," Mr. Pope lectured as he walked around the room.

'Fucking ridiculous. On top of the world or in the gutter. Who fucking cares? I'd give a shitload of money to have one goddamn person actually believe in me.' It was something he'd wanted his entire life and something he'd had only once, briefly, with Veronica. But she'd left him. She'd given up on him when he needed her most.

He knew he could seriously benefit from some time away from his own company. His thoughts were becoming even more dark and haunting than usual. Never a good thing. Definitely not conducive to his survival.

Who the hell was he supposed to hang out with, though? Duncan hadn't been Duncan since before Lilly died and while their friendship was tentatively still intact, his friend had been conspicuously absent since before they'd become roommates. Something told him that there was more to it than just the awkwardness over Veronica.

'And cool with it or not, hanging out with Dick while I'm banging Kendall just isn't going to happen.'

In that moment, he ached for what he'd had in Veronica. A friend before she'd been a girlfriend, she understood him better than anyone. 'How fucking pathetic. The pint-sized pest who's crushed my heart twice is the only person I've ever been able to rely on.'

His stream of consciousness was briefly interrupted by a voice he barely heard. "Mr. Echolls…" A moment later, he heard his name again. "Oh, Mr. Echolls."

The rest of what Mr. Pope said went ignored.

Sensing a comment was expected, Logan kept with the theme of his thoughts, giving himself a pep talk. "I'm not worried. I tend to bounce back." The words were said with conviction but he couldn't help but wonder how much he really meant them. 'One day, my ability to bounce will break. But goddammit, today better not be that day. I've GOT to get Veronica to help me.'

After the following period, Logan placed an 'Out of Order' sign on the door to the girls' bathroom, the one he knew Veronica typically used as an office. He leaned against the counter, the sinks and mirrors at his back, and waited nervously for Veronica. 'This had better work.'

He missed her, yeah, but right now, he needed her more. The murder charge wouldn't just go away, not with a supposed eyewitness involved. And regardless of their differences and more recent history, Logan knew Veronica believed him when he said he had never murdered anyone.

When the doors opened and Veronica stepped in, he found that the temptation to remind her of the last time they'd met in that very spot was simply too compelling to resist.

"Hey, uh, you remember when we made out against the sink and you had your legs wrapped around my waist?" It was a very vivid memory, one that he conjured frequently. Pretty much every time he 'gave himself a hand'. The thought of it now made him smile. Helpfully, he twisted his fingers in a gesture that mimicked her thighs squeezing his hips while her body clung to him.

Clearly not amused, Veronica said dryly, "Stop. You'll make me blush."

Unable to resist poking the bear, Logan moved closer to her, clasped his hands in front of him, and leaned down just a bit so that they were at eye level. "Honestly? How much easier would your life be if you were indifferent to me?"

Her response was immediate but her sarcasm didn't matter. He knew his comments had hit their mark.

"So much since I'm really struggling. What do you want?" With her bag tucked over her shoulder, she looked ready to head for the door.

'It's time to get serious.'

Everything in his demeanor completely changed. "I don't know if you noticed that I got arrested? Super fun." He waited a beat for her to acknowledge that she knew, then he continued. "This guy came forward saying he was the 9-1-1 caller the night that Felix got killed. And he's attempting to ruin my life." He paused. 'Here we go.' He took a deep breath before he added, "I thought maybe you could do a little sleuthing for old times' sake."

Veronica hadn't looked at him the entire time he was talking but when he finished, she looked up at him with an annoyed glare. "Really? Could I?"

Now angry himself and feeling defensive, Logan blurted as if his words held a razor-sharp edge, "But why would you, right?"

Veronica stubbornly gave a single shake of her head, her eyes filled with blue flames.

Logan stepped back, ready to walk away. 'Of course. I had to be dreaming or lying to myself to think she would help. She doesn't give a damn about me anymore.' When he spoke, his words were bitter. "Hey, at least I got to enjoy asking you for help."

He turned and had almost reached the door when Veronica's exasperated voice stopped him.

"Old times' sake? Give me something I can work with."

'Woman is like a goddamn yo-yo but, hell, maybe she doesn't hate me after all.'

"The witness said I threatened him." Logan walked toward her, his expression sharp and earnest. "He's setting me up. I need to know why."

Without waiting even a heartbeat, Veronica asked, "What's his name?"

"Griffith," Logan replied, "I don't know anything more than that."

She visibly softened, her eyes sympathetic, and she nodded to indicate that she'd made a mental note of the information. 'I'll see what I can do."

Logan reached for Veronica's shoulders and gave them a warm squeeze, telling her sincerely, "Thanks, Veronica. I knew I could count on you."

After quirking what appeared to be a genuinely affectionate smile his way, Veronica walked out and left him. A few beats later, he followed on her heels, just in time to see her get intercepted by Duncan.

At lunch the next day, Veronica informed him that she had something for him but she couldn't go over it at school. They agreed to meet that night at the Fuller's house after the kid Veronica was babysitting went to bed.

'Must be for a job. No way would Veronica babysit otherwise.'

Too agitated to sit still, Logan arrived early. He bounced on the balls of his feet and knocked on the sliding glass door off the living room. A minute or so later, just when he was about to knock again, the blinds moved aside and he saw that Veronica had the phone to her ear. "I said 10:30," she whispered loudly through the glass.

Instead of retreating, Logan casually looked around behind him and swung his arms lightly, waiting for Veronica to make her move.

Veronica disappeared for a few moments before she came back and finally let him in. She had grabbed her book bag and when they were seated side by side in the den, she pulled out a folder and handed it to him.

"Your 9-1-1 caller, a.k.a. Tom Griffith, is Dr. Tom Griffith. He is a very expensive, well-respected plastic surgeon," she said as he flipped through the papers.

"I don't believe it," Logan said jokingly as he looked over at her, "There are no respected plastic surgeons." 'Shit. Should have left that one alone.' He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down to study a picture. He lifted his head and said definitively, "It's not him."

"Sure it is," Veronica responded, "Dr. Tom Griffith. It says it there, right on the picture." She pointed to the label helpfully.

"That's not the guy from the bridge," Logan stated again, this time more clearly. He would be in trouble with her for sure, but this was huge.

"What are you talking about?" Veronica asked sharply, "You told the police you couldn't identify the guy. You said the whole night was a blur." Her words were concise, her tone sure, but at the same time he could tell she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He let it. "I lied," he stated matter-of-factly.

Veronica turned away but not before saying in exasperation, "Of course you did."

In that moment, he couldn't tell if she was more annoyed or disappointed. That knot in his stomach twisted and wrenched at his gut. 'I should have told her the truth from the beginning.'

Whether to defend himself or provide her with an explanation, he found himself saying, "Well, I didn't want the guy found. Ya know, I didn-I didn't know what he was gonna say. I knew I was free and clear if they never found him." As he spoke, his hand gestures became more wild and erratic. That more than anything articulated just how much he wanted her to believe him.

Without any warning, Veronica leaped off the couch and pushed Logan toward the door. "You have to go."

Not about to lose his opportunity, Logan insisted, "I need your help. The guy's lying."

Practically panicked, Veronica headed out of the room and called back to him over her shoulder, "GO!"

With a frustrated huff of breath and the file in his hands, Logan turned toward the glass door and let himself out. When he slipped around to the front, he saw a car in the drive. 'Ah...I guess I shouldn't take it personally after all that she kicked me out with no warning.'

An hour or so later, though, he received a text.

'I'll check into your plastic surgeon and let you know what I find.'

Satisfied and relieved, Logan released a heavy breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. He debated briefly on how to answer but in the end, he simply typed: 'Thanks.'

The next time he heard from Veronica was via a voicemail, a message she left while he was otherwise occupied with Kendall.

His skin glistened as he flopped back on his bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. 'When nothing else is going right in your life, it's always nice to know you can still get laid. There is no better way to release some fucking tension.'

He started to sit up and disentangle himself per their usual unspoken agreement, but Kendall pushed him back down and tried to snuggle. "That was perfect, baby." Every sound of every word was completely disingenuous and elicited a doubletake from Logan. 'Fuck.'

"Uhhh. So good to be with you. I just want to be with you all the time," she continued with a counterfeit purr.

Logan looked at her with disgust and said sardonically, "A bit of advice. When looking for a sugar daddy, at least pick the richest guy in the hotel suite."

That got her attention. She sat up fast, an expression of shock and horror on her face.

Her little act aroused a deep feeling of indifference within Logan, and he gave her a small smile of amusement. "I'm sorry, does that hurt your feelings?"

"I can't believe you just said that to me," Kendall huffed, feigning indignance, "Doesn't this mean anything to you?"

With a laugh, Logan answered, "Yeah, it means I'm getting laid." He reached for his boxers and put them on under the covers before he continued. "And I owe your village a goat." 'And with that comment, I'm guessing this little arrangement we've had is about to be over.'

Kendall refused to give up. Instead, she continued insistently, "You know, you can joke all you want, but I know we have a connection, Logan. You know, it may have started off as sex but over the past few months it's grown into something more."

Sitting up to face her, his cynicism was clearly evident. "Wow, so your feelings have grown as your bank balance has shrunk," he smirked, his hands moving up and down, as though balancing invisible weights.

"Its like science," he paused to emphasize his point. "One of the problems with sleeping with your stepson's friend...information tends to leak."

As he rolled out of bed, she desperately tried another angle.

"I don't know if you've noticed but you have a pretty good situation for yourself here. You want to go back to playing grab-ass with cheerleaders who have just mastered missionary, see ya."

While she continued to speak, he reached for a shirt and pulled it off a hanger. 'She can't seriously think I'm going to fall for this, can she?'

"You want things to keep going the way they've been going, I'm gonna need a few things," Kendall stated arrogantly.

Angry now, Logan stared at her defiantly. "I'm sorry. 'See you' was option A?" He put his shirt on over his head and let the insults continue to fly. "Bessie. When the milk stops being free, I stop drinking it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Kendall whined.

Leaning against his closet door frame, Logan said, "Frankly, my dear," he paused to give her a pointed look, "You know the rest."

Without another word, Kendall got up with a flourish, dressed hastily, and huffed out of his room.

Once he was alone, Logan finished getting dressed himself, then grabbed his phone to check his voicemail. It had been a couple hours since Veronica had left it but in spite of its contents and his mood, her words and their timbre made him smile.

"The good news is that I'm perfect just the way I am. The bad, your plastic surgeon is a mensch."

'Damn. Well that doesn't help me at all.'

Frustrated and annoyed, Logan left his room and landed himself on the sofa with his feet up, arms along the back, controller in hand. He flipped channels, first watching cartoons and later the news. He didn't know whether or not Duncan had been home but when he heard his friend's bedroom door open and shut again, promptly followed by high heels tapping on the floor, he couldn't help but wonder. 'Interesting...'

It appeared that his speculation was confirmed when he saw Kendall cross toward the door, the buttons of her sweater not done up right. 'Seriously, DK. I always thought better of you. I wonder what Veronica's impression of this would be...'

The thought tugged at his emotions. He may not have been dating Veronica anymore but he still considered her a friend. And he didn't want his friend to get hurt or, more specifically, blindsided.

He'd been cheated on. It fucking sucked. 'Especially when the culprit is someone who should know better...someone with some influence, someone thought to have integrity. Or, in certain cases, someone who is supposed to be an adult.'

Forcing himself to remain calm, he asked Kendall idly, "You ever think about just getting a job?"

Her response didn't surprise him in the slightest. "This is my job."

The whole scenario played out repeatedly in Logan's head throughout that evening and into the next day. It nagged at him that the guy who was supposed to be so good, so golden, so honest and trustworthy, could possibly have cheated on the one girl who'd meant everything to him. 'What am I supposed to do?'

He'd been mulling it over from the comfort of his room when he thought he heard Veronica's voice in the living area and went to check it out. When he saw the couple, they were obviously about to head out. He casually leaned his hand against the wall and interjected himself into their conversation.

"Hey, uh, Kendall wasn't bugging you yesterday, was she?" he asked his roommate casually.

Duncan immediately replied with a simple, "No," but Logan caught the calculated look from Veronica that seemed to silently scrutinize both himself and Duncan. 'She's wondering what I know.'

"Good," Logan stated, his determination to continue fueled in equal parts by his desire for vengeance and his concern for Veronica. "Good, 'cause uhhh when I saw she was in your room for a little while, I got nervous. I know how she likes to talk a guy's ear off."

Veronica stared at Duncan as she and Logan both waited for his answer. 'Let's see what he has to say to that.'

"She was just asking for my help with something," Duncan answered casually, giving Logan what he could only interpret as a warning look.

Logan's brows went up and he nodded silently in disbelief, knowing Veronica was watching his own reaction as much as Duncan's. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shred of doubt blossom in Veronica's gaze. 'Bingo. The rest is up to her.'

"We'd better get going," Duncan stated curtly.

With an inscrutable glance between her boyfriend and her ex, Veronica nodded and then silently left with Duncan.

Chapter Thirteen

The knock came again. 'Why isn't Duncan answering it? We both know it's Veronica.' He peeked his head out his bedroom door and groaned when he saw his roommate asleep on the couch.

"Fine," Logan muttered to himself, "I'll answer it. But she'd better have some answers for me."

WIthout ceremony, he opened the door to the suite and motioned Veronica inside. Gesturing to the couch, his tone reflected his irritation, "Your boyfriend's asleep."

She turned, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyance clear in her eyes. "I can see that."

"So, do you have anything for me?" Logan asked tersely.

They stayed close to the door and kept their voices low as the conversation bounced back and forth. The repartee was neither lighthearted nor cruel, but by now simply ingrained. They had no idea how to talk to each other without it.

"Nothing new," Veronica responded with a shake of her head, the look in her eyes now almost apologetic.

"Didn't you say your dad said that cigar shop was a front for drug deals? I mean, that's gotta mean something," Logan insisted with a hint of desperation.

Veronica shrugged, "Or not. Sometimes a cigar store is just a cigar store."

'Are you kidding me, Veronica?! Come on! You've never given up on something that easily in your life. You'd treat your damn dog better than you're treating me right now!'

Anger at her lack of persistence in his case drowned out his growing fear and Logan spat back, "I'll remember to be quippy when you're looking at 20 to life."

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Duncan get up and slip into his room.

Her barbed response came quickly. "Oh, you're being a jackass. Must be an even numbered day. I do so prefer the odd numbered days when you're kissing my ass for a favor."

The reminder that he'd asked for her assistance did nothing to help his mood. It took everything in him to keep from gritting his teeth as he responded, "If you find out why this plastic surgeon is trying to get me sent away for killing Felix, I will make sure that I remove all even numbered days from the calendar."

"Did Duncan go to bed?" Veronica asked, changing the subject as she glanced into the living room past his shoulder.

His eyes narrowed at her and his words took on a petulant, biting tone. "Yes, and he wanted me to tell you to give me your undivided attention." He paused before he started again, this time unable to hide his mounting desperation. "Pretend for a moment that your dog's life is at stake."

Just as he said those words, a thought occurred to him and he changed tacks. "Hey. Hey, maybe this so-called doctor is a pipeline to prescription drugs. That's how my pediatrician lost his license."

Veronica looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "Well, it's pretty easy to check on something like that."

She picked up the messenger bag that she'd laid at her feet, lifted the flap open, and pulled out her laptop. They moved to the couch where she sat down and he stood behind her, looking down over her shoulder.

Her fingers moved over the keyboard for a few minutes but it didn't take long before she was saying, "I found something."

Eager and alert, Logan leaned in to see. "What is it?"

Veronica pointed to the screen and explained what she was showing him, "Well, the eM website lists any disciplinary actions taken against its members. Apparently Dr. Griffith was reprimanded. Something about an inappropriate off-site practice. Patient's name is Danny Boyd."

Leaning back a bit, not wanting to get ahead of himself, Logan asked cautiously, "What does that mean?"

When Veronica looked up at him, he almost got lost in her eyes. She had that look of sheer determination in them. There was steel in her voice as she responded, "I don't know, but I'll check it out tomorrow."

With intense relief, he thought, 'She's back. She's found a lead and she's going to help. She hasn't completely given up on me after all.'

After school the next day, Logan met Veronica in the parking lot at his truck. She'd told him over lunch that she'd found an address for this Danny Boyd character and he'd insisted on going with her to check him out.

He unlocked the doors and swung himself inside with a fluid grace. When they were both seated and buckled in, he asked where they were going. She navigated and he drove, both of them looking out the windows skeptically upon their arrival. The place was in the ghetto.

Veronica checked the address again just to be sure and said, "This is it."

In disbelief, Logan questioned, "The owner of this dump sprung for plastic surgery?" as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, preparing to get out but Veronica's words stopped him abruptly.

"Uh uh. You're staying here. This takes a certain subtlety." Her tone mocked him but he ignored it as he watched her unbuckle, open the door, slip out and sling her bag over her shoulder.

She faced the house for a moment and then turned back long enough to look at him through the window. "But if I need anyone punched in the face, I'll whistle for ya."

There was a sparkle in her clear blue eyes as she said it which made him think she meant the words to be teasing and insolent but still they stung. 'Is that really all she thinks I'm good for?' He hoped not but as he thought about it, he knew her impression of him was probably justified. He really did have a penchant for swinging first, thinking later.

Logan closed his own door again, twirled his keys between his fingers, and rolled his eyes but he couldn't help looking after her with concern. 'What if this is one of those times when a fist in the face would be warranted?'

He watched her knock on the door and inwardly groaned at the brute in a wifebeater who answered the door. The look of the guy did absolutely nothing to contradict his first impressions, instead serving to put him even more on edge. 'Dammit, Veronica. Why wouldn't you let me go with you? How am I supposed to protect you from here?'

If anything happened to her while she was helping him, he'd be devastated. There'd literally be nothing left of him. They might as well convict him and give him the death sentence. At that point, he'd deserve it.

His eyes narrowed and his heart first jumped to his throat then dropped to his stomach when he saw Danny Boyd leading Veronica around the corner of the house and out of sight. 'What the fuck?!'

She turned just before she disappeared, glancing at him as if to say she'd be okay, she could handle herself, but an immediate feeling of dread washed over him regardless. 'This is not good. Not good at all. Veronica, what the hell are you doing?!'

While he fidgeted restlessly, he thought through his options. 'Five minutes. That's all I'm giving her. Five fucking minutes and then I go in and drag her out, even if she's kicking and screaming.'

By the time those five agonizingly slow minutes had passed, and Veronica had still failed to reappear, Logan had worked himself up almost to a frenzy. He knew too much of her history, cared too damn much, to let anything happen to her again.

Adrenaline pumped violently through his system as he reached for his glove box and pulled out a gun. 'Loaded or not, this thing may come in handy.' He refused to take any chances. Not when it came to Veronica.

After checking his pocket to make sure his phone was there, he opened the driver's door and swung himself out of his truck. Without hesitation, he rounded the corner to the back of the house, moving toward the last place he'd seen Veronica headed.

The yard was empty except for a chained up pitbull. Logan began to panic. He looked around, trying desperately to figure out where they might have disappeared to.

If he hadn't heard the growing ruckus coming from inside, he might have missed the door entirely. As it was, it took him entirely too long to figure out that it was a rear entrance to some sort of business or food-serving establishment.

Several determined steps later, he'd reached the door, turned the handle, and found it open. As he stepped inside, his eyes worked to adjust to the dim light. 'The River Stix. Shit.' At the same time, his mind tried to make sense of the low buzzing sound he heard. 'Oh fuck.'

When he saw Veronica being held down on a pool table with a tattoo needle just centimeters from her face, he acted immediately. He pulled out his phone, stepped forward, and said loudly, "Hey. I've got 9-1-1 on the line. Who can give me the address here? No one?" He spoke confidently into the receiver, "Hey, I've got one of those ankle monitors on. Does that help? Yeah. The River Stix. There's blood everywhere."

He closed the phone and put it away. "Come on, Veronica," he said with authority, "Let's go."

"Well, lads," said the Irish mobster who held Veronica, "Let's see how much damage we can do in the next two minutes." The man had a maniacal grin on his face. He obviously didn't fear the sheriff.

Without hesitation, Logan pulled out his gun, forced his hand not to tremble, and aimed steadily at the pock-marked mick. 'ohmygodohmygodohmygod...I'm really doing this.'

"STOP," Logan said clearly, not quite sure how he kept his voice as even as he did. Maybe it was how hard he had to work to look strong and unaffected. 'This is a fucking Oscar-worthy performance.' Out loud, though, he said the only other thing that made sense. The one thing that made him sound completely unhinged, ready to pull the trigger. " I've had a very bad year."

As soon as Veronica was released, she scrambled off the table with a gasp and a whimper and stumbled toward Logan. He glanced at her twice to make sure she was okay. Slowly, he backed toward the door he'd come through and once Veronica was out, he lowered the gun, turned, and made his own escape. 'God, I hope I never have to do anything like that again.'

They were both silent as they made their way back to the truck, got inside, and drove away. Logan couldn't even look at her, he felt so guilty. 'This is all my fault. She wouldn't have been there if it weren't for me. What would have happened if I hadn't had that gun? Never mind, I don't want to think about it. Score one for Dick's dad. Not what he intended, I'm sure, but thank god it worked. Two more minutes and I would have been too late.'

When they'd made it what he deemed a safe distance, he pulled over and parked so he could check on her. 'She's gotta be a mess. And I'm the one who put her in the middle of this.'

He looked over at her with concern. 'Shit. She looks like she's about to cry.' Just as he thought it, she began to sob, dropping her head to her hands.

Awkwardly, he responded by saying, "Hey, it's ok." 'Should I touch her? Would that make it better or worse?' His hand ached to reach out but he didn't want to be rejected. 'Fuck it. I can't not try to comfort her. Especially when this whole mess is my fault.' His hand touched her shoulder tentatively, "You're gonna be ok."

She threw off his hand immediately and he lifted it as if in surrender. The vehemence of her response shocked him.

"A gun?! Logan, a GUN? What are you doing with a gun? You're gonna get yourself killed, don't you understand that?!"

Her words didn't compute. 'What is she saying? Why is she so angry? It was me having a gun that saved her!'

In an attempt to reassure her and defend himself, he showed it to her and said, "Look, it's not even loaded."

"Oh, I feel so much better," Veronica spat back at him with a glare.

Logan sighed and continued trying to explain. "Look, Dick's dad gave it to me." He paused to put it back in the glove compartment. "He said given my situation - "

Before he could finish, Veronica interrupted, starting to get out of the truck. "Given your situation, you should just move out of Neptune."

He lifted his foot to the seat, flashing the ankle monitor, and said bitterly, "Yeah, well, no can do."

Slamming the door, she stalked away. He stared after her, swallowing hard as a new fear and dread filled him. With his court date approaching, his situation grew more desperate each and every day. After what had just happened, would she refuse to help him? He longed to go after her, for her to come back. But it wasn't meant to be. He had to let her go.

Chapter 14

Anyone who saw Logan at lunch the next day would think he didn't have a care in the world. He sat at a tableful of girls, flirting and laughing and eating pizza. The trouble was, it was all a facade. Inside, he was anything but cool and calm and carefree.

He watched Veronica from the corner of his eye and jumped up when he saw her get up to leave. He followed her into the building, hurrying forward to talk to her when she opened her locker.

Giving the metal door a small shove to make his presence known, he tested the waters by asking quietly, "Hey, any news on Nip/Schmuck?" Nervous butterflies flitted in the pit of his stomach. Would she still be willing to help him or was she through? He had to know for sure.

Snippily, Veronica responded, "It's pretty clear, isn't it? Our favorite plastic surgeon, for whatever reason, seems to be owned by the fighting Fitzpatricks."

'At least she's talking about it...' Getting right to the point, he replied, "Well, as far as I know, I've done nothing to get their Irish up."

Sounding tired and irritable, Veronica stated, "And I'm working on the connections, ok?"

He couldn't help it. His fear and desperation were getting the better of him. If he were really to stop and think about all the implications, he'd likely be literally paralyzed. This and more swirled through his head and contributed to the sharpness of his words.

"If you could exonerate me sometime soon, that would be great. I really don't want bottom bunk in Fisty McRapes-a-Lot's cell."

Her biting retort was immediate, and accompanied by her patented glare. "If you wanted top, I'm sure it's negotiable."

'Fine. You want some humility and contrition? Let's try this on for size.' His words were low and sincere with impatience hiding just below the surface. "Help me, Mars-wan-kenobi. You're my only hope." And with that exit line, he tapped her locker with the back of his hand and walked away, never looking back.

Later that night, after spending hours playing video games in a vain attempt to distract himself, Logan found himself ready to jump out of his skin.

'Shit. I've got to do something, go somewhere, or I'll lose my mind.'

Before he'd even finished the thought, he was halfway out the door, calling back to Duncan from the hallway, "I'm going out to get us some snacks. I'll be back later."

Barely receiving a grunt and a nod in response, Logan rolled his eyes and firmly slammed the door closed behind him.

Knowing the Fitzpatricks were somehow involved with his murder charge had really put him on edge. He buzzed with energy as he took the elevator down to the lobby, crossing the Grand entrance to make his way to the parking deck. The tires squealed on the pavement as he went round and round to the bottom and finally exited the garage.

Logan found a small shop a few blocks away that hadn't yet closed for the night. He parked around back and made his way inside, picking up some chips, jerky, and a soda. Paying for them at the register, he left the store and headed back to his truck.

When he rounded the corner of the building, he saw that he'd been blocked in. He stopped where he stood and let out a frustrated sigh, asking himself aloud, "What is wrong with people?"

Moving forward, he intended to go around the van and knock on the window, assuming he'd find a sleeping drunk or a bum. Just as he made it past the back bumper, he found himself face to face with a man in a black ski mask. Before he could say a word or move to react, he felt a burst of pain across his chin and everything went black.

The sting of a glove slapping his face was what woke him up, disoriented, aching. Eyes dilated and frantic, he saw the man in the mask, the darkened warehouse - or maybe it was a garage? - tasted the bitterness of his own blood, but couldn't believe that any of it was real.

When he tried to move, he discovered that his arms were tied down and he panicked. It was possible that someone had spoken, but with every ounce of his blood drumming in his head, he couldn't hear a thing.

"What the hell is this?" he rasped, putting all his effort into sounding in control and commanding.

His worst fears were realized when he heard the thickly accented voice that taunted him in return. "It's the people's court, junior. You're on trial for the murder of Felix Toombs."

'Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.'

Logan's head was yanked up by his hair so he could see another man in a mask, standing in the shadows of a back corner.

"That's your judge and jury. I'm the prosecution. You. You get to represent yourself." The voice was hard, unforgiving. Rough fingers bit into the soft flesh around Logan's jaw before they shoved him back and let him go. 'Shit. I'm gonna die.'

The man in the mask lifted his phone from his pocket and dialed a number, holding it out so the person on the other end could hear Logan's answer. "First question for the defendant. What happened to Felix that night on the bridge?"

Every fiber of Logan's being filled with dread instantly. 'It doesn't matter what I say. These guys'll never believe me...I'm dead. I'm really, really dead. No doubt about it. These guys are gonna fucking kill me.' He shook his head slowly, unable to catch his breath. "I don't know. I don't know."

Displeased, the man in the mask lifted the phone to his ear. "Ok. He's all yours, Judge."

The other masked man stepped forward silently, revealing a revolver. He spun the chamber before closing it, aiming it at Logan's left hand, and cocking it.

As Logan watched with eyes wide, every coherent, intelligent thought spontaneously vanished.

He lifted his head, straining against whatever was binding him, crying out frantically, "No, No, NO! Come on, man!"

"One in six says you take a bullet."

In desperation, Logan pled, "No, no, come on, man, don't do it! Come on, are you crazy?!"

The sound of the trigger being pulled nearly stopped Logan's heart. He fell back, breathing hard as he closed his eyes, a strangled sound of relief escaping his lips.

But it wasn't over yet.

"I'll ask you again."

Logan tried to interject, "Look, I…"

The demanding voice spoke over him. "What happened?"

Adamant as he addressed his captors, Logan tried desperately to remain calm. "I can't remember, ok? I swear to god I can't remember."

This answer obviously did not please the man in the mask. The threatening voice asked, "Wanna try one in five?"

Frustrated, Logan lifted his head and said urgently, "Dammit, man, I'm telling you the truth. I swear to god. Why would I - ?"

The wretched voice cut him off. "You're a killer, boy, just like your old man."

Without waiting for a word or warning, 'The Judge' cocked the gun again, finger on the trigger, still pointed steadily at Logan's left hand.

Hysterical, helpless, and fighting for his life, Logan howled at the top of his lungs, "Oh god, stop, please! No! NO! No no no no no. NO!" He screamed when he heard another click from the gun.

Hollow relief. He'd escaped one more time.

His chest hurt. He felt like he couldn't breathe. "Stop, please," he begged, "I don't know anything! Damn it, man, I swear!"

"Oh, it's not up to me. It's 'The Judge' you gotta convince."

Logan's gaze swung rapidly to the other man. The man with the gun. "Please don't," he wheezed, "I'm telling the truth. I didn't do anything. I swear to god."

The other man spoke up again, his words filling Logan with horror. "You know what I think the problem is? This boy don't care about his hand. Let's try some more valuable real estate."

With steady precision, 'The Judge' moved the gun lower until he aimed at Logan's crotch.

Gasping for breath, eyes widening in terror, Logan's screams became hysterical, "Come on, man. NO! NOOO! PLEASE! Come on! Please don't. PLEASE! DON'T!" Words abandoned him momentarily and he let loose a frenzied wail.

When he regained his senses, he tried one last time to appease them, "Listen, why would I lie, you guys? No, come on, man, PLEASE!"

Another fist connected with his face and, mercifully, his world became dark again, but only for a few moments. They dragged him from the building, threw him back in the van and drove off. He stayed still, muscles loose, knowing his best bet was to play possum.

When he felt himself being heaved up, he slipped the phone that had been used out of his captor's pocket just before they tossed him out of a vehicle. He didn't fight it when his body bumped and banged its way down an embankment to its resting spot on the beach.

After he stopped moving, he waited a moment before he looked up toward the road. Even so, he managed to catch sight of a white cargo van hitting the gas, squealing away. Pulling himself up to his feet, he tried to remind himself that it was over.

The problem was, he didn't believe it. If they could take him once like that, they wouldn't hesitate to do it again. There was nothing he could do to stop them. And there was nothing he could do to make them believe him.

Every part of him ached. A residue of terror hung over him. More than anything, he wanted to curl up inside himself and bawl like a baby. But he couldn't. He had to try to be strong. Self-preservation, now more than ever, was a must.

He pulled the phone he'd lifted from his pocket and with purpose he hit redial.

On the other end, it didn't even get the chance to ring. Clear as day, without even a pause, he heard Weevil authoritatively ask, "Is it done?"

Righteous fury filled him. He wiped an arm across his nose. His voice held a maniacal edge as he spoke. "Oh, it's just getting started, Weevs. You have no idea the hell you just brought on yourself."

Pulling the phone away from his ear, he forcefully hung up. He sniffed, took a few deep breaths, and fought the tears that filled his eyes. He couldn't afford to break down. Not now.

A few nights later, Logan strategically gathered his buddies to take down the bastard who had tortured him. It hadn't taken much to convince the 09ers that Weevil needed to be brought to justice.

Having done a little recon beforehand, Logan led the way to the garage where the PCHers regularly tuned their bikes. Marching to the breaker box with his boys behind him, he smirked in anticipation and flipped the switch.

They heard Weevil call out in the dark and they were more than ready when the biker came around the corner. Logan hit him with a right cross to the face and said through gritted teeth, "I heard your lights were out."

By the time they finished with his beating, Weevil had blood and bruises everywhere. But Logan wasn't quite done with him yet.

"Now comes the humiliation," he said with satisfaction as he nodded to his crew to toss Weevil in their trunk.

In front of the school, just before dawn, they dragged Weevil out at Logan's order. They stripped him bare and duct taped his ass to the flagpole. As he left, Logan glared at Weevil one last time but his smirk was filled entirely with satisfaction.

Later that afternoon, Logan poured on the charm to get himself excused from newspaper class. He took his time, thoroughly washing and drying his hands, and was just debating whether he would actually return to class when, in the mirror, he saw Weevil enter and immediately kick a stopper beneath the door to block it.

"I hope that tape didn't burn too much when they ripped it off," Logan stated disingenuously without turning around, "I hear that can leave some chafing."

Weevil stalked forward angrily and growled, "You made the wrong play, dawg. I shouldn't let you live for what you pulled."

Logan turned, astonished, finished drying his hands and threw the paper towel away. "What I pulled? Hang on, compadre, let's recap." The outrage in his tone was unmistakable as he began to list the gang leader's many sins. "You blasted a shotgun through my car with me inside."

Quietly, and without looking at Logan, Weevil responded, "That wasn't me."

Ignoring him, Logan continued, gradually getting louder. "You torched my house. Then your masked banditos played Russian Roulette with my hand. 'K, my math says you still owe me."

"I thought you killed Felix," came Weevil's only response, as if that all by itself was an adequate explanation, a complete justification for all his actions

For the first time since Weevil entered the bathroom, Logan stilled, completely calm, his voice filling with conviction. "I didn't."

"Yeah, I pretty much know that now," Weevil answered, looking away.

'What the fuck?! That's the best he can do?' Animosity filled Logan once again and he spat, "Oh, are you waiting for the music to swell before you start the apology?"

The words were ignored when Weevil continued, "We have something in common now. We both need to find out who killed Felix."

Logan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So, what? We team up? Get matching capes? I ride shotgun in a sidecar?" 'This is crazy! But if he means it, can I afford to turn him down? Damn it all to hell, probably not.'

"Something like that," Weevil acknowledged, "But not yet." His cocky attitude returned with a vengeance. "See, I can't let you leave here like that, looking the way you did when you walked in. Not if I don't wanna end up some bald guy with tattoos who rides the school bus."

A light of appreciation and almost anticipation filled Logan's gaze as he smirked. "Well I hope you're not expecting me to just stand here and take it."

Weevil grinned, the look on his face matching his attitude. "Wouldn't be much fun if you did."

"Alright so who's gonna throw the first - " Logan began but then the bell rang and he was interrupted.

Weevil took advantage of the distraction and punched Logan in the face with his right fist. Logan came back at Weevil with a vengeance and soon they were bouncing off garbage cans and throwing each other into walls.

It took Clemmons and school security forcing their way in to bring an end to their show. As they were both being hauled through the halls, Logan thought, 'That might have been the most productive thing I've done all day.'

Chapter 15

The air in the corridor was stale as Logan strode through the halls of the sheriff's department like he owned the whole place. Inside, though, he was filled with turmoil. 'Why the hell am I here? Is Mr. Mars going to accuse me of something else...?'

Bracing himself for the worst, he leaned dramatically against the open door to the office he'd been pointed toward and said with his best Robin Leach air, "I adore what your designers have done with the men's room. That Hefty bag over the busted urinal adds a delicious wabi sabi feel." Stepping inside, he turned with exaggerated precision and proceeded to close the door.

Keith sounded almost apologetic when he spoke, his lips sporting a small smile. "That's Don's thing. We went more mid-century modern back in my day," he paused before continuing more seriously, "Anyway, thanks for coming by. I'm guessing by your blithe spirits that you have no idea what's up."

Before Logan could answer, Keith moved to take a seat and started the tape recorder lying on his borrowed desk.

Cautious and concerned, Logan sensed that another shoe was about to drop. He sat down slowly and responded warily, "Nooo, but they request my presence here weekly, so..."

Thankfully, Keith got right to the point. "Logan, the tapes of your dad and Lilly have been stolen from the evidence room. I'm here to investigate how it happened and try to get them back."

Logan's reaction was immediate. He grabbed the arms of his chair, eyes blazing with anger. "What?!"

The former sheriff remained calm but Logan could feel Keith's eyes watching him intently. "Obviously, I need to know what, if anything, your father might have said lately about the case or the evidence."

Fury raced through Logan from head to toe. "Wait. Wait. Now I'm totally confused. That sounded a lot like a question you would ask a suspect, an accomplice, say."

"You did spend time with Aaron right before the tapes were stolen," Keith reminded him, completely unperturbed.

A knock on the door interrupted them, giving Logan a few moments to sit and stew. 'I know I was an ass to your daughter and never did a damn thing to deserve her but seriously, dude, do you really think I'd actually ever help that bastard?'

"Yeah?" Keith said in answer to the knock, listening as Inga came in to tell him he had a phone call.

When Keith left the room, Logan used the opportunity to nose around in every visible nook and cranny of the abysmally dreary office. Coming up with nothing interesting after several long minutes, his impromptu investigation lost its appeal. He flopped down on the wooden bench, still waiting, restless and thoroughly annoyed.

'So much for this being a priority,' he thought bitterly. 'What? Did someone even more nefarious than myself call in? What the fuck is taking so long?!'

Just as he was about to get up and start rummaging through random desk drawers, Sacks opened the door and, not noticing Logan on the bench, walked in and dropped a file on the desk. He left it sitting unceremoniously less than five feet from where Logan now sat where it could taunt him and mock him, inevitably sparking his curiosity.

Once the door had closed again, Logan stood and reached for the file, opening and flipping through it. What he found was a departmental email list that he instantly folded and stuffed in his pocket.. 'I just struck gold.' The cogs in his mind began to turn, spinning with all the possibilities.

Before he'd been able to formulate a plan or plot a course, the door opened and Mr. Mars walked back in. Logan couldn't help but mentally smirk. 'I'm one up on you now!'

Going around the desk and taking his seat, Keith said in the most pointedly professional tone Logan had ever heard, "Sorry about the interruption. Now, I asked you whether you had heard anything unusual from your father. Did he ever mention the tapes when you were locked up with him?"

A bit of the bite had gone out of Logan now that he had that email list but he still forced himself to keep up the front. Besides, it still pissed him off that ever-observant Keith Mars actually thought him capable of colluding with his father, the devil. "Can you seriously imagine me conspiring to save Daddy Dearest? Lilly's killer?"

Keith smiled again and Logan couldn't help but think he looked like a piranha, swimming around peacefully, just waiting to attack. "Just making sure I have every bit of pertinent information."

It was the smug yet friendly smile that did Logan in. He'd had far more than enough. He rose from the chair and looked down at Keith Mars behind the desk where he sat. Barely controlled anger laced his words as he spoke, "I'll tell you what, dude, if I hear anything pertinent I'll get back to you."

Even through the haze of his self-righteous anger, Logan understood that while Keith's response appeared calm, what he was really seeing now was a side of the former sheriff that was much more dangerous. The same side he'd seen when he'd broken that lamp. "The name's not 'dude', it's Mr. Mars."

The two men stared at each other for more than a few stress-filled moments before Logan finally turned and walked away. In the hallway, he paused to pull the list of names and email addresses from his pocket. He pored over them with a satisfied smirk on his face. 'See, dude? This is what you get for not believing in me. A big Fuck You and an I'll Handle This On My Own.'

When he got back to the suite at the Grand, he was relieved to find himself alone. He set up his laptop, and sat down next to it on his bed. Leaning back, he cracked his knuckles and looked at the screen intently. "Now...how do I go about this? What exactly is it that I hope to accomplish?"

'Fuck. What DO I hope to accomplish? Do I want those tapes back in the evidence room? Where they could be stolen again? Sold to some shithead at TMZ?'

It took a while for him to come to any sort of conclusion. 'If I destroy the tapes, does that destroy the case against my dad? Is preserving a little of Lilly's dignity worth it?'

But it wasn't just Lilly's dignity that was at stake here. It was Logan's sanity, what little bit of privacy he had. 'Can I risk the world seeing the mockery she made of our relationship? Having her infidelity replayed over and over and over?' Just the thought of it made him want to puke.

Nerves raw with the weight of emotion, a calm settled over Logan as he realized exactly what he had to do. 'I don't care what this does to his case. I need to get my hands on those tapes so they can be erased. I'll do it myself somehow.'

Minutes later, fingers flying over the keyboard, Logan had set up an anonymous email address and had begun crafting his brief plea through a departmental letter.

"I would like to offer $50,000 for all originals and copies of the Aaron Echolls tapes you are holding as evidence for his upcoming trial. Reply to this email address if you are willing to sell them to me."

He knew that in the scope of things his offer was minimal. Whoever had the tapes could definitely get way more from The Enquirer or Entertainment Tonight, but with just his mom's inheritance at his disposal for the time being, it was all he could offer. Reading it over one last time, he took a deep breath, placed his finger on the mouse, and hit send.

'There. Nothing else I can do now but hope for the best. Maybe I'll find a reason to believe in the kindness of strangers. Maybe, just maybe. But not yet.'

The first response came within just a couple of minutes with a second following shortly after. Two replies. 'One fake and one real. Has to be. Unless it was a two person job, both trying to outsmart the other to get their hands on the money.'

It was with a fine-tooth comb that he scanned both the responses. One was short, simple, to the point and from an Inga Olofson. The other proved more cautious, hesitant, asking for more details, specifically what he planned to do with the tapes once he obtained them. That was from a Deputy Leo D'Amato.

'Bingo. That one's for real. The other's a trap. Would have to be Mr. Mars. He said he'd been brought in just to work on this case. Well, sorry dude, you can track me down all you want but it looks like I'm two steps ahead of you and I know you're not quite as quick as your daughter.'

Thinking of Veronica made something click in his mind. The name of the deputy. It sounded familiar, something to do with her. He wracked his brain for a bit before it hit him. 'Of course. The cop she dated. Didn't she say she dumped him for me? Would he still help me if he knew?'

With that thought came a smidgen of doubt, enough to make him continue with his anonymity when he responded to the deputy's email. He sat thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the edge of his keyboard, trying to come up with just the right words. It was a really freaking delicate situation.

"Deputy, I assure you, my only intention in buying the tapes is to erase them. There are some things that should never have the chance to be exposed on the internet. If we have a deal, bring the tapes to the concierge at the Neptune Grand. He'll have the money for the exchange."

Taking the time to re-read it several times, making sure it sounded generic and mature enough to satisfy, he made several tiny tweaks and then hit send, an action that prompted him to hold his breath. 'What'll I do if he doesn't take the bait?'

Before he had time enough to form a backup plan, he received another message and sighed in relief. The deputy was going to take him up on his offer. 'Maybe the kindness of strangers is a real thing after all. Now...how do I make this happen?'

Since this was one transaction he couldn't put on his Amex card, Logan paused to consider just how he might be able to come up with that much money in cash. The easiest way he could think of would require him to contact his dad's accountant, Avi Kaufman.

If he did that, word would surely get back to his old man. Try as he might, though, he couldn't come up with a better option. Everything he thought of would require him to depend on someone else, less reliable, and not professional. Like Dick.

Logan just couldn't see asking Dick for help, whether he was sleeping with the dude's step-mom or not. No way could Dick, good intentions, loyalty, and all, be trusted in a matter that would require him to handle fifty thousand dollars.

'Avi Kaufman it is.' He made the call, made his request, and at Avi's annoying insistence, gave him a made up story about a lost bet in order to explain his need for it. In spite of some initial hesitation, Logan managed to convince the superstar accountant that it would be in all their best interests for the matter not to be mentioned to his dad.

"It's called plausible deniability, Avi. Live it. Learn it," Logan stated with conviction into the mouthpiece. "Now, when can I expect the money?"

They went back and forth for another few minutes before the details were decided upon and confirmed. As soon as he hung up, Logan sent Leo an update.

"Should be set for tomorrow at 2 o'clock. I'll email again when the money's in place."

Everything went off without a hitch. Logan skipped lunch and the last two periods of the day to oversee the matter himself. Right on time at 1 o'clock, Avi himself met Logan in the lobby. They shook hands briefly, the older man holding his gaze as he handed Logan the envelope.

"Make sure it gets put to good use," the ever-practical accountant said.

"Oh I will," Logan replied, "Don't you worry about that."

Ater Kaufman left, Logan made his way to the concierge and formally made his request. The Echolls name and charm served him well. The concierge agreed to make the exchange without so much as batting an eyelash.

Logan hid out in his room, waiting nervously, playing video games and watching random DIY shows on TV. Even doing some homework. Anything to try to make the time go a little faster. Just when he didn't think he could take it anymore, there was a knock on the suite door and when he opened it, there stood the concierge with the tapes.

It was only after he had the tapes in his hands that he felt comfortable responding to Inga Olofson, a.k.a. Keith Mars, letting him know he'd been outsmarted. At the same time, he wanted Mr. Mars to know the truth. That he'd only bought the tapes so he could destroy them, but now he was having second thoughts.

'I could just give them back to Mr. Mars. He'd make sure they stayed in evidence where they're supposed to be. Who am I kidding? He'd try but he'd never be able to make sure they didn't get stolen again, this time maybe by someone even more corrupt. Then I'd have to make another offer and it could be too late or I may not be able to pay them enough.'

He turned the tapes over and over in his hands until he made his final decision. The tapes would be erased just like he'd planned. He'd already gathered the equipment to make it happen. But first he'd have to watch them. And that was gonna hurt.

With a mix of melancholy and trepidation, he put the first tape in the machine, sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, and hit play. The images that came on screen felt like a stab to his heart. No, more than that. It was as if someone were holding it, squeezing it, twisting it, ripping it to shreds before yanking it out and stomping on it.

Silent tears ran down his face. He pulled his sleeves down over his hands and gripped them tight, occasionally using them to swipe at his nose or his face.

Slowly, painfully he made it through each and every one of the tapes. By the end, he felt hollow, empty. After each one, he took the tape degausser and deliberately erased the content, at the same time hoping to erase the images from his mind.

Just as he finished with the last one there was a knock on the suite door and he moved to answer it, his shoulders slumped and defeated in spite of the fact that in some small way he should have felt triumphant. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do and now he would have to face the consequences.

Standing there as Logan knew he would be was Keith Mars in a suit jacket, white button up, and jeans. Logan stayed silent. Nothing he could say would make sense.

But Mr. Mars seemed to understand anyway, at least it sounded like it from his knowing words. "For that experience you paid fifty grand?"

Unable to respond in any other way, Logan left the door open, turned, and walked over to lean his back against the bar. Even if he couldn't drink at the moment, maybe the knowledge that the key to oblivion was behind him would be enough to soothe him for the time being.

When he finally managed some words, his voice was raw with emotion and he couldn't quite meet Mr. Mars's eyes. "Yeah well, all that matters is that the world wide web won't be hosting mpegs of my old man defiling the love of my life."

Keith's voice was gentle but sure and Logan swore he heard more than a hint of accusation. "For a guy who says he hates his father, you sure did him a huge favor."

Defensively, defiantly, Logan stated, "Well, I've seen the tapes. I can testify against him as well as anyone else."

"You can also go to jail," Mr. Mars pointed out, "This is a serious crime."

Logan knew he'd outsmarted the man but found it really gave him no pleasure. Shrugging and wearing his best poker face, he asked, "Yeah? Uh, where's the evidence?"

Keith waved his hand toward the tapes on the coffee table and said, "I believe those are the tapes right there."

"Yeah those are blank," Logan responded with indifference.

"Blank tapes made you cry?" Keith Mars asked sardonically.

His eyes darted around the room as Logan searched for a quick response. "Yeah, I thought I'd saved the Daria marathon on them."

"Right," Keith said, still not buying it, "And most people have a tape degausser lying around on their coffee table."

Refusing to say anything more, Logan nodded and shrugged. Sometimes less was more in these cases.

It was obvious to Logan that Mr. Mars was getting frustrated but he could also see that he was about ready to admit defeat. "Well at least tell me this, how did you manage to buy those tapes for a tenth of their market price?"

With a small smile and the charm of a southern drawl on his lips, Logan responded, "Why, sir, I've always depended upon the kindness of strangers." 'A kindness I hadn't been sure existed.'

Mr. Mars seemed taken aback, like he had a hard time believing it as well. "Kindness, at the sheriff's department?"

Logan simply nodded. 'And goddamn am I thankful for it.'

"I seriously doubt that," the former sheriff scoffed but came up short all of a sudden. In a flash, Logan saw the older man's realization. 'Poor bastard. Not a chance in hell is Deputy Leo gonna catch a break after helping me. Well, hopefully that fifty grand was worth it.'

Chapter 16

When Logan entered their shared quarters a few evenings later, Duncan appeared to be in an almost catatonic state.

"Hey, DK," Logan called, his eyes sharpening at the sight of his friend, scrutinizing him when he didn't answer. 'Shit. I haven't seen him this disengaged since...Lilly. What the hell is going on?'

Logan flopped onto the couch beside Duncan, examining him closely. The fact that DK hadn't responded to his greeting was definitely a concern.

"Dude," Logan tried again, this time waving a hand in front of Duncan's face, "Someone steal your candy?"

"Huh?" Duncan blinked, eyes puzzled and searching.

"You were out of it," Logan pointed out, "Didn't even hear me come in. Haven't seen you like that since...well, you know when."

"Lot on my mind," Duncan answered distractedly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.

"Nuh uh, not buying the generality, dude. You're gonna have to do better than that," Logan returned, shaking his head. "What's up?"

Blowing out a breath as he rested his head in his hands, Duncan mumbled something that Logan didn't quite catch.

"You're gonna have to speak up, man. I couldn't hear you."

Duncan released what sounded like a frustrated groan and repeated what Logan assumed he had said the first time. "Meg's pregnant and Veronica knows."

Logan blinked in shock. 'Whoa. I don't even know how to fucking process that.'

Apparently the look on Logan's face said as much as his lack of words. The next thing Logan knew, Duncan was nodding miserably and saying, "I know."

"It's yours?" Logan asked in a gravelly tone filled with disbelief.

'The boy who could do no wrong fucked up and got his virtuous ex pregnant?! When the fuck did hell freeze over? I wonder what Veronica thinks of all this...'

Duncan nodded and Logan shook his head, letting out a weighted 'whoosh' of air.

Unable to help himself, Logan asked, "How'd Veronica take it?"

"About like you'd expect," Duncan answered hopelessly.

"Did she break up with you?" Logan persisted relentlessly. 'Please say yes, please say yes.' The thought made him feel guilty. He should want to be supportive of his friend, not his ex. But a whirlwind of emotions warred within him. 'Serves her right...No. She didn't do anything to deserve this...Fuck it. She made her choice.'

"No," Duncan responded, sounding relieved, "She just got mad and asked why I hadn't told her."

"Wait," Logan inserted, suddenly more alert, "You didn't even tell her yourself?! How'd she find out?"

'She's Veronica Mars. Of course she found out. Still...'

"She went to the hospital and saw Meg," Duncan answered, sounding guilty, "She's pretty far along."

"Wow, dude," Logan shook his head, still blown away. "You're gonna be a dad."

"I know," Duncan said quietly.

'Hmm...burn down a pool, get a girl pregnant. Veronica's getting herself quite the track record of badly behaved boyfriends. Only thing I wanna know is, why's she still with him? How is it that he warrants another shot and I didn't?'

That night, the phone woke him. Before he could gather his bearings, figure out what was going on and then go back to sleep, Duncan came stumbling through Logan's bedroom door.

"Meg's dead," he said raspily, "And I'm a father."

Shooting upright in bed, Logan was instantly wide awake. "Whoa. That sure happened awfully fast."

Duncan nodded into the dark and sunk to the foot of Logan's bed. "A blood clot came loose and they lost her. Meg, not the baby. They had to do an emergency c-section."

"The baby's ok?" Logan asked cautiously, mind racing as he tried to figure out how best to support his grieving friend.

"Yeah," Duncan replied hollowly, his voice catching on a sob, "But they won't let me see her. The Mannings are trying to say I'd be an unfit parent."

"What the hell, man?!" Logan responded angrily, hands curling into tight fists, "You're gonna fight it, though, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Duncan answered in despair, "Maybe it's all for the best."

'Seriously?! He'd abandon his kid before he's even met it...him...her…? That's seriously fucked up. Especially when the kid's already lost its other parent.'

Logan struggled with his emotions. The scenario in his head was hitting too close to home. Losing a parent. Being abandoned by a parent. He needed to shut it down before it rubbed him raw. He needed to focus on his friend and not the newborn baby.

Swallowing hard, Logan forced himself to ask, "So, is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl," Duncan said quietly. Logan could see him wringing his hands in the moonlight.

A lump formed in Logan's throat. He'd always wanted a daughter. If he ever got past his fucked up genetics and decided to have a kid of his own, anyway. 'How is it that he ends up with everything I've ever wanted? He doesn't deserve it. And he sure as hell doesn't appreciate it. This whole situation is so messed up.'

Before Logan could figure out what else to say, Duncan rose with a sigh. "I've gotta go. I can't just sit here like this. I need some time alone. Time to think."

"Yeah, dude, whatever. Let me know if there's anything I can do, ok?" Logan offered with concern.

"Sure," Duncan said distractedly. After he walked out, Logan checked on him a few times the next day. Every time he did, his friend was still locked in his room and all Logan could hear was weeping.

The elevator at the Grand was empty when Logan stepped inside the next afternoon, hit the button, and situated himself comfortably against the back wall. Just before the doors closed, Veronica slipped through the opening and joined him.

'Fuck. Well, this should be interesting. Game face on, Echolls. Mask up, snark out. Go.'

Refusing to look at her directly in spite of the fact that he'd already taken in every minute detail of her appearance, he wondered just how quickly he could get a rise out of her. Schooling his features and his voice to be as casual as possible, he said, "Hi, ho."

It took a moment for the words to sink in and spark the response he was looking for. Just when he was beginning to berate himself for being a moron, she turned toward him, her words spoken in a tone that sounded close to disbelief. "What did you say?"

He ducked his head, fighting to suppress a triumphant smile at her reaction. 'Bingo,' he thought, 'I still affect her.' Then he said with feigned innocence, "Oh, your uniform. Hi ho, it's off to work you go." He shrugged and forced his eyes forward again, watching the floors crawl by.

Clearly amused but also slightly annoyed, Veronica said overly brightly, "I guess that makes me Snow White."

Seeing his opening, Logan returned with, "You must be on your way up to see Mopey."

Keeping up just as he knew she would, Veronica asked, "How's he doing, Sleazy?"

"I wouldn't know. He doesn't come out of his room. Old Italian ladies don't grieve like this." His tone was filled with disgust. When he continued, he looked toward Veronica, rubbing salt in the wound of her tortured romance. "Boy, he must have really loved Meg." Purposely, he emphasized the name of the other girl.

Veronica's answer was calm, cool, and collected. A true disappointment to him. "Well, then there's that other thing," she said pointedly, "You know, he can't see his baby."

'I'll have to up my game if I want a reaction.' Pushing her buttons deliberately, Logan covered his mouth as if he were shocked. "A baby! How'd that happen?"

He silently studied the stubborn set of her jaw and knew he'd pushed her hard enough. She refused to speak for the remainder of the elevator ride. 'Fuck. She's not handling it well at all.' Then he remembered, again, that it wasn't his place to care. Still, he couldn't help thinking mournfully, 'You wouldn't be dealing with this if you were still with me...'

Quietly, they exited the elevator onto the top floor. He followed her to the suite and watched as she pulled out a spare key. Opening the door, she swung it wide and ushered him in. He entered reluctantly and removed his jacket as he moved toward the couch.

Watching as she headed toward Duncan's bedroom door, Logan couldn't resist the bitter urge to pick at her again. "There she goes. The angel of mercy. Time to fake the donut."

She ignored him while he flopped on the couch and settled in, pretending he didn't care. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes from following her. He saw her pause after she opened the door and took a final jab. "Uh oh, you catch him waxing his board?"

Before she could respond, Kendall walked out of Duncan's room, clad only in a towel, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

'This should be interesting,' Logan thought, sitting up straighter, paying closer attention.

"What are you doing here?" Veronica demanded sharply.

"I was invited," Kendall responded smugly, "How about you?"

Without another word, Veronica turned and left the suite.

Torn, Logan couldn't decide what to do. He stood and paused a moment thoughtfully, first glancing in the direction Veronica had retreated, then toward the bedroom Kendall had re-entered.

'No way is Veronica gonna tell me a damn thing. If I want to know the truth, I'm gonna have to deal with Kendall.' With that in mind, he trailed after the self-styled seductress.

When he entered his friend's room, he saw Kendall trading her towel for a terrycloth robe. There was no sign of Duncan. Amused, his eyebrows rose and he simply asked, "Lost?"

"Oh quit standing there so smug. Tomorrow you're just gonna call me at 2 in the morning and say you want some company. For your information? That doesn't really satisfy me, Logan."

Logan smirked in disbelief, "Really? You always come."

She glared at him, gave a grudging nod that he'd won that round, and walked away.

Following her, Logan asked again, "Why are you here, Kendall?"

"None of your damn business," Kendall responded snootily, "I get a call, I come. Sometimes more than once."

The look of triumph on her face told him she was done giving him any kind of information. That was fine with him. He'd gotten the answer he needed. Now he just needed to find out why the hell Duncan was sleeping with a skeez like her when he had Veronica. 'Probably don't want to know. And will definitely never understand.'

When Logan next saw Dick for an afternoon of surfing, he debated talking to him about all that had been going on. He needed a sounding board and there was no way he could talk things through with the people most closely involved. That left Dick. The next best thing to a best friend.

'He may be the world's most authentic jackass, but he's loyal. He's always had my back, which is more than I can say for Duncan.'

"Dude," he ended up saying before he could think better of it, "I'm worried about Veronica. This whole thing with Meg dying and Duncan having a baby, it's gotta be getting to her. Is there anything more messed up than that?"

Dick stopped walking, staking his surfboard in the sand, and looked at Logan, considering. "Man, you gotta get over that chick. She's seriously bad for your karma."

"Right. Like you wouldn't go back to Madison in a heartbeat," Logan retorted spitefully, holding his own board under his arm.

"True dat," Dick acknowledged with a grin and a chuckle. "At least I would if she ever put out." He paused before changing the subject. "Ok, here's what we'll do. I'll keep an eye on your former leading lady while you prod your lawyers to get those murder charges dropped."

'Hmm. Actually, he has a point. I've been spending so much time obsessing over Veronica, I haven't exactly been putting much effort into building my defense.'

"You know what, Dick?" Logan asked in amazement, feeling a heavy weight lift from his shoulders, "You've got yourself a deal."

Said deal paid off and paid off handsomely not even a week later. Logan was seated on the couch, thumbs flying over the buttons of his game controller, when a loud, insistent pounding sounded at the suite door.

Swiftly glancing over his shoulder, he briefly debated finishing the battle he was in the midst of, calling out a harried, "Be there in a minute!"

"Dude! Let me in!" came the demanding reply.

'Dick.'

A strange tingle ran up and down Logan's spine as he quickly found a save point and tossed down the controller. He surged to his feet and hurried to the door.

'If something's got him this worked up, it's gotta be big. What the hell is he gonna tell me now?'

Ever since Dick had told him about the bus crash, Logan had decided that in spite of the inevitable theatrics, he could probably trust the elder Casablancas brother to keep him up-to-date on breaking news and other important information.

'I wonder if it has anything to do with Veronica.'

Opening the door, Dick pushed past him. He didn't take long to get down to business.

"You so missed out on the drama at lunch today, dude. You're never gonna believe it!" Dick exclaimed.

"So tell me," Logan responded dryly. He was definitely going to have to work on his patience if extra Dick time was in his future. 'Hopefully it'll be worth it.'

"Dude," Dick began before blurting, "Ronnie and Duncan broke up!"

"WHAT?!" Logan exclaimed, his heart suddenly racing, feeling like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. "What do you mean they broke up? How do you know?" he demanded immediately.

"It was about Meg. Meg and the baby. Duncan's been pushing her away," Dick relayed breathlessly, "That's all I know, I swear."

Logan dropped heavily to the couch, thinking. 'What does this mean? Anything? What the fuck do I do with this information?'

It took several minutes of inner contemplation while Dick rambled on for Logan to make his decision. He would do nothing. His life was a mess. He had enough to deal with. He didn't need to add to the struggle by trying to rekindle a relationship. Besides, Veronica had broken up with him. Just because she was free now didn't mean anything. If he really wanted another chance with her, he needed to bide his time. Do it right.

'Business first, then pleasure.'

Chapter 17

The business he'd previously been thinking of began with a meeting of minds, his and Weevil's. With the sudden disappearance of Duncan and his baby, Logan had the hotel suite to himself, so Weevil came to him. It was safer that way. For both of them.

"It's down to two guys," Weevil said in tones still hushed, even though they were alone, "Hector or Bootsie. One of them stabbed Felix," he stated with conviction, then explained, "Thumper says they were the only two left on the bridge with you and him."

"So how are we gonna figure out who did it?" Logan asked, completely serious. If this was what he had to do to first get himself off the hook and then possibly have another chance with Veronica, he was going to go all in.

"The one who did it is the one who's in business with the Fitzpatricks," Weevil answered simply, "He's got a pipeline to coke, meth, and E. You know anyone who can - ?"

Logan cut him off, nodding, "Yeah. I'll handle it." 'Should be a perfect opportunity for Dick.'

Weevil nodded.

"Give me forty-eight hours," Logan continued after giving his plan a few more moments of thought, "I'll pass you the evidence and name in the hall when I have it. You can knock into me or whatever."

"Whatever works," Weevil smirked. "I'll never pass up an opportunity to push you around."

"Har har," Logan responded with barely concealed disdain. He headed to the door and held it open, "Now, if we're done here, I have better things to do."

Without another word, Weevil disappeared into the night, leaving Logan alone. He picked up his phone from the coffee table and dialed an increasingly familiar number, waiting for the older Casablancas brother to answer.

Not even an hour later, Dick was seated with Logan on the couch, blissfully playing video games. Logan glanced between the animated babes in bikinis and Dick. 'There's definitely nothing beneath the surface with him. Must be nice to be that transparent.'

Oblivious to the thoughts swirling in Logan's head, Dick's full concentration was on the video game. "Dig it out, baby, dig it out. Make daddy proud."

'It's almost a shame to interrupt him.' But he had to. If he wanted to dig himself out of the hole he was in, there was no choice. "Hey listen, I need you to do me a favor."

Without looking away from the screen, Dick asked, "It's not that favor that Bobby Brown does for Whitney, is it?"

Logan laughed, shaking his head with a small smile, and said, "No."

With a shrug and a nod, his fingers still moving on the controller, Dick answered indifferently, "Then, whatev."

Taking a deep breath, Logan laid it on the line. "I need you to try to buy some ecstasy from a couple PCHers." 'And now we find out just how good of a friend he thinks I am.'

Without missing a beat, Dick replied, "Yeah, no sweat. I'm like this with those guys." He took a moment to hold up a pair of crossed fingers before once again his full attention was consumed by the video game. "Oh no, honey, bad set. Bad set. Don't make daddy hose you down."

This time, Logan couldn't keep his admiration to himself. "You're not really complicated, are you, Dick?" The concept was unfamiliar but he liked it. 'Something to strive for, perhaps?'

Shrugging again, Dick responded simply, "Try not to be."

In that moment, Dick's transparent personality and cheerful demeanor worked together to lighten Logan's mood.

The very next day, Dick came up to Logan at his locker, clearly bursting with news.

"Hey, what's the word?" Logan asked as his new BFF approached.

"Well, the one they call Bootsie told me no and went on to suggest I perform sexual intercourse upon my own person."

Logan deadpanned in response, "Doesn't he understand? If you could do that, you'd never come to school."

"Boy, that's the truth," Dick replied with a wistful nod.

"And Hector?" Logan prompted.

Digging in his pocket, Dick answered with a grin, "Sold me 10 hits of E."

A slight hint of annoyance in his voice, Logan said, "I gave you enough cash for 20."

With a shrug of indifference, Dick responded snidely, "Gave me the 09er discount, charged me double."

"And you paid it?" Logan demanded as they tussled playfully.

Once Dick had gone, Logan reached for a marker and wrote Hector's name on the container of E. He caught Weevil's eye as they passed in the hall and purposely ran into the vertically challenged biker.

Weevil turned, understanding the game, taking the package from Logan even as he asked menacingly, "What's the matter with you, boy?"

Unperturbed, Logan pretended to tip an invisible hat to Weevil before turning and quickly walking away.

That night, Logan got a message from Weevil telling him to meet him in the bathroom during fourth period. He had news and he wanted to share it in person.

When Logan entered the men's room the next day, Weevil was already there waiting for him. Spreading his hands as he approached him, Logan said smartly, "We've gotta stop meeting like this."

"Tell me about it," Weevil responded darkly, "What do you think it's doing to my reputation?"

"So, you messaged, I came. What did you find out?" Logan asked. With the niceties out of the way, it was right down to business.

"Hector's saying he got his supply from Sean Freidrich and that it must be Freidrich who's in it deep with the Fitzpatricks," Weevil said.

"Do you believe him?" Logan questioned immediately. Trust wasn't exactly something that came easily to him. Especially not when it came to the PCHers.

"I don't know," Weevil admitted, "But I plan to find out."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Logan inquired impatiently.

"You hide in one of the stalls. I'll go flush Friedrich out. Then once he's in here, I'll confront him," Weevil explained.

"You've clearly thought this through," Logan responded sarcastically, "So what, if you're not back in ten minutes, just wait longer?"

"Yeah, something like that," Weevil replied, obviously unfazed by the smart-ass remark.

When Weevil disappeared through the door, Logan made himself as comfortable as he could, situating himself in the end stall, closest to the wall, mirrors, and sinks.

After what seemed like forever, the bathroom door opened again and Logan heard someone step inside. Just a couple minutes later, the hinges on the door creaked again and a second set of footsteps approached the first. Then Weevil's voice rang out and it was showtime.

"You remember last year when you looked down on me like you were so much better?"

Sean's tone of superiority was unmistakable. "Yeah. Did you get the impression something's changed?"

"Well yeah," came Weevil's reply, "it seems both our families are in the domestic staffing industry. That makes us, like, family."

It took every ounce of willpower Logan had not to chuckle. 'Damn,' he thought, reluctantly impressed. 'That's quite the burn he just threw down.'

But Weevil wasn't done. The persistent sound of his voice continued on. "I steal cars, you sell drugs. Hey, I can hardly tell where you end and I begin."

'Holy fuck, he's gotta stop before I end up giving myself away!'

"I get it," Sean responded with a smarmy confidence, "What can I get you? A little crank? Some blow?"

"Just tell me the name of your supplier," Weevil demanded, clearly all joking around now set aside.

"Yeah, that's not happening," came Sean's stubborn reply.

Weevil persisted, however. "Is it the Fitzpatricks?"

'God he's good. Or not bad at least. Although he'll never be another Veronica Mars.'

"The Fitzpatricks." Sean's voice was filled with disbelief and disdain. "They take a blowtorch to you if you're short a dime bag. I'm not that dumb." 'No, I guess you're not, but still...' There was a pause in the conversation before Freidrich asked pointedly, "Am I free to go?"

The "have a nice day" from Weevil told Logan that it was over. He stayed silent, however, until his presence was acknowledged.

"You believe him?"

Swinging the stall door open, Logan answered question with question. "Don't you?"

Leaning against the sink, Weevil spoke with conviction, "One of my boys is mixed up with the Fitzpatricks, I know it."

Moving to the sink, Logan wet his hand then ran it through his hair. He looked at Weevil in the mirror and asked, "Has it crossed your mind that maybe the one that's mixed up with the Fitzpatricks is the one that's already dead?"

This time it was Weevil's turn to respond with a question, "You remember when Ciaran and Cormac Fitzpatrick still went to school here? Back when we were freshmen?"

"They were like 7th year seniors," Logan recalled, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"The only reason they stuck around was to keep the high school drug trade going," Weevil explained, "Soon as the school got smart and expelled them, my predecessor - "

Logan interrupted, proving he was keeping up with the conversation even if he didn't understand it, "Reaper Gus."

"Yes. The Reaper," Weevil nodded approvingly before he continued, "He decides to expand our business. A couple months later, he disappears like Jimmy Hoffa. No one's seen him since."

There was a pause while he allowed Logan to absorb that information.

Then Weevil continued, finally sounding like he was about to make his point, "You know why The Reaper was called that?"

"He lost a bet?" Logan asked, clearly not into this guessing game.

"His name," Weevil stated pointedly, "Gustavio Toombs. He was Felix's big brother. So no, Felix wasn't working with the Fitzpatricks. No way in hell."

Weevil walked out without another word, but Logan remained at the sink, considering what he'd just learned. 'Yeah, I see his point. But still...if there's anything the shitstorm of my life has taught me, it's never to trust what you believe till you have proof.'

Back in the suite again, Logan played a golf video game while he met with Weevil.

"Drugs. Murder. Frame-ups. St. Mary's Church. Why didn't we think of that sooner?" Logan's tone dripped with bitter sarcasm.

"Seriously, man," Weevil insisted, "it's gotta be it."

"Convinced of this why?" Logan asked doubtfully, glancing up at the biker from the corner of his eye.

"You met the Fitzpatrick family?" Weevil asked.

Images of Veronica pinned down on a pool table flashed through Logan's head. His jaw clenched but he forced himself to relax and answer in the manner expected of him. "I found them scrappy but lovable."

Apparently choosing to ignore Logan's sardonic mood, Weevil continued on. "So outta 13 brothers and cousins, you got 12 hoods and a priest, Father Patrick. So, I was thinkin' - "

Interrupting Weevil's thought process, Logan said, "Aw, damn," when he missed an easy putt.

When he pulled the plug on the playstation, it was obvious that Weevil was fed up, but Logan was irritated and couldn't have cared less. "WHAT?" he demanded like a petulant child, "You were thinking? You want me to alert the media?" He knew it wasn't fair, that Weevil was actually, in this instance, on his side and trying to help, but Logan didn't care. He was just sick of all this bullshit.

"This concerns you, too, jailbird. You think I like sneaking over here like this? Focus, man," Weevil chided him irritably.

Refusing to give in easily or admit that he should have been paying more attention, Logan glared at Weevil and said in an annoyed tone, "Ok, I'm focused. Go ahead. Think."

Weevil ignored Logan's deliberate attempts to egg him on and continued. "K, we've got the Fitzpatrick priest running the show in the church where all the PCHers go, right?"

Logan couldn't resist snarking or playing devil's advocate, "That's decent thinking for a novice. But aren't priests supposed to be good and stuff?"

"Before he took his orders, Patrick Fitzpatrick was up to his eyeballs in the family business," Weevil explained, not to be deterred, "He even did six months for assault for beating up some stool pigeon."

Thoughtful but also doubtful, Logan asked, "Yeah, but at church? Where are you gonna pass packages of drugs and money?"

"You ever been to a Catholic church?" Weevil asked pointedly, already knowing the answer.

"When do you think I've ever been to a church of any variety? Thanks to dear old dad, we couldn't even manage it for my mom's funeral," Logan responded bitterly.

A brief look of understanding crossed Weevil's features but it quickly passed. Logan would never want or accept his pity. Instead, he explained, "There's mass and there's confession. Lots of people around during mass, but during confession, it's just you an' the priest hidden away in a booth with a screen between you an' him. Ain't nobody around but you, the priest, and God himself, maybe the virgin Mary."

Logan was silent a few moments, then looked over at Weevil doubtfully, "You really think they'd use a confessional to further their drug trade?"

Weevil answered Logan's question with a question of his own. "Would you really put any damn thing past a fucking Fitzpatrick?"

"Ok," Logan said slowly, giving Weevil a quizzical look, "So how do you propose we prove your theory?"

Without hesitation, Weevil responded, "I propose we ask V to bug the confessional, get video feed, sound too if we can, then you take your proof to your lawyer and I take the information to my gang. We both get what we want."

Frowning, Logan leaned back against the couch. "Can't we get what we need without involving Veronica?"

"What, you two having a fight? Again?" Weevil mocked with narrowed eyes.

Logan rolled his eyes, "You know, forget it. Ask away. Just make sure she knows this favor thing was your idea, not mine."

"Hey, I got no problem talkin' to Blondie on my own. You don't gotta be there at all," Weevil scoffed.

Regardless of his mixed emotions about the matter, Logan knew that if anything went wrong in the request, if she started to falter or waiver or buck against it, he wanted to be there to plead on his own behalf. 'Because, goddammit, whether she likes it or not, she cares. She's not indifferent to me, and if she can help with this, I may find myself a free man yet.' He would use her. One last time. He wouldn't like it but he'd do it.

The next evening, Logan met Weevil at Java the Hut. They arrived just before her shift began and requested to be seated in the back, then let the hostess know that they specifically wanted Veronica to be their waitress.

When they saw Veronica arrive, Weevil waved her over since it wasn't clear whether she'd received their message. It took her a minute to head toward them. It was one of the longest minutes of Logan's life.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? There's no way that we're placing her in danger?" Logan asked hesitantly, reluctantly.

"She'll be fine," Weevil assured him, "We ain't backin' out now."

She headed their direction and Logan made sure she couldn't see him. He was determined to give Weevil his chance to make this work without him getting involved. He was only there as backup. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Veronica sounded like she was in an exceptionally good mood when Logan heard her ask his cohort, "And how can I help you, sir?"

Without any preamble, Weevil told her, "I need a favor."

"Ahh. A favor," she said in response, the tone of her voice already making the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand up, "One of our specialties."

Again, Weevil went on, not bothering to sugarcoat anything. "I need you to bug the confessional at St. Mary's church."

Logan could imagine the look on Veronica's face but he kept his head down, his face turned away. He didn't need to see her to know she was astonished.

"Um, I'm sorry. That's not on our menu. Maybe you should try 'you're crazy' down the street."

'Shit. I knew he'd fuck this up.'

He sighed, quietly resigned, lowered the menu and said, ""It's not just for him."

She gave him a look of disgust or distaste, he couldn't tell which, and then she began to speak harshly, "Isn't this a very odd coincidence? Or, wait, are you guys like roomies now and he ate your peanut butter and now you're not speaking?"

'Fuck, Veronica. Don't do this. Not now...although, if you want to play hardball...'

Logan's jaw flexed and he said stiffly, a knowing look in his eyes, "Funny you should bring up roomies seeing as I just lost one. Don't suppose you could help me find where Duncan disappeared?"

"Ooh, sorry," she responded with feigned sweetness and apology, both of which he was well aware were veiling her venom, "One favor per customer."

"Uh, yeah, could we stay focused here? 'Cause if we're seen together by the wrong people, that would be bad," Weevil's lowered voice took on a sing-songy quality.

All the playfulness evaporated from Veronica as she said pointedly, "So this is sneaking. I've got a pantomime horse disguise you could use. Do either of you have any experience being a horse's ass?"

'Shit. We're losing her. Weevil's right. This is gonna take focus and maybe even a little contrition.'

Still, he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice at first. "I'm glad my misfortunes amuse you. Look, that church is the only place where the Fitzpatricks and the PCHers hang together."

Now that Logan had mentioned the Fitzpatricks and PCHers, he knew they had her attention. He sat back and let Weevil take over the explanation.

"And the priest is a Fitzpatrick. It must be where they're getting the drugs to the trader in the PCHers."

"Who is probably the one who killed Felix," Logan added, feeling as though he had to make sure it was spelled out for her. 'Come on, Veronica. I know you know I didn't do this and I know you won't just let me go to prison for life, or worse, face the death penalty, while you stand idly by and watch it happen.'

Thinking of the death penalty nearly paralyzed him. He both looked and sounded tired as he continued, "Look, Veronica," he paused a moment to rub his hands over his face, letting out a low sigh, "can you just once save my ass without comment?"

Veronica looked toward the stage, either listening to the guy singing karaoke or taking a moment to think. Logan wasn't sure which. Just when he was about to try again, she turned around with a smile and said sternly, "No. Because saving your ass WITH comment...it just works better for me. I will not bug a confessional. Video, maybe, but no sound."

Relieved, Logan looked to Weevil and both nodded. They could work with that.

They agreed that Veronica would text them when she had what they'd asked for. When they got the text, though, Logan had just left the school campus to make his weekly visit to the county jail, a standing appointment that he couldn't miss or be late for. Quickly, he texted back that Veronica should meet Weevil without him, that he'd get the information from Weevil later.

But he never heard from Weevil later. Logan tried to get through to Veronica to see what had happened but she must have been at work because her phone was off. He left her a brief message and had a few drinks while wondering what he should do.

'I'll have to wait till school tomorrow, then I'll corner him, see what the hell is going on.'

With that decided he went to bed, but he tossed and turned all night. Every time he was nearly asleep, he'd think again how much of a mistake it had been to trust Weevil. Why the hell had he let himself get sucked in by that spic?

The next day proved his worst fears had come true. Weevil managed to avoid him all day. The couple of times that Logan caught a glimpse of him, he noted that Weevil definitely looked worse for wear but he was determined that wouldn't stop him from finding out what the fuck had happened.

It wasn't until the last period of the day that he was finally able to make that happen. Logan tracked Weevil down in his shop class and paid a freshman with a hall pass to take a note to the shop teacher asking to dismiss the biker early. As soon as Weevil walked out the door and around the corner, Logan shoved him into an empty classroom and slammed the door shut.

"Kinky, but not my style," Weevil smirked, catching his balance as he started to head for the door that Logan was blocking, "Now get outta my way before I kick your teeth in."

Logan looked him over and shook his head, "Them's fightin' words, Weevs, and you don't exactly look like you're up for a fight today. What happened? Anything to do with our information?"

"It's MY information since I was the one there to get it," Weevil countered, "But no, this ain't got nothin' to do with that. An' if it ain't got nothin' to do with you, it ain't none o' your business."

"Not interested, anyway, if it has nothing to do with me," Logan shrugged carelessly before impatiently asking, "So, why aren't you telling me about what IS my business?"

Weevil's eyes flashed, his jaw flexed, "Leave it alone. I'm handling it."

"Yeah," Logan scoffed, "You're handling it so well you got your ass handed to you."

"I said this don't have nothin' to do with that, man!" Weevil responded angrily.

"And I don't believe you, Paco," Logan replied evenly, "Come on, what gives?"

Shaking his head stubbornly, Weevil said, "Get Blondie to tell ya. Us? Our partnership? Is over." With that, he shoved past Logan and out the door.

After school, Dick came by with some gossip that once again turned Logan's world on its head. Dick had seen Weevil getting off the school bus that morning so he'd done some checking around. It seemed that apparently the PCHers had ousted their leader.

Logan immediately went to Veronica and demanded to know what she had told Weevil, what she had found on the video of the confessional.

She told him, reluctantly, but quickly added, "But Logan, there was nothing on that tape that could help you. Not really. I mean, connecting Thumper to the Fitzpatricks and the drug trade has nothing to do with Felix. Before the information I found could possibly help you, you'd need to have some idea what motive the Fitzpatricks would have for wanting Felix dead. We don't know that. We may never know."

A pained but stubborn expression crossed Logan's features as he said with determination, "I'll bet Weevil knows and I'll bet I can make him talk, too."

"Logan, don't," Veronica ordered, the slightest hint of the concern she was masking was audible in her voice. "Please. You won't get anywhere with him and you'll just wind up in more trouble than you're already in."

"What do you suggest, then?" Logan asked harshly, his eyes hard as he stared her down.

Veronica worried her lower lip, a sure sign that she was struggling to hide her emotions. "Just...I don't know...wait and see what Cliff is able to pull off to help you. He's your best hope now."

An array of emotions struggled within Logan. He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that he didn't trust Cliff as much as he trusted her, or himself. He wanted to tell her that his gut was telling him that anything Cliff could do would be too little, too late. But he didn't.

Instead, he slowly nodded, holding her gaze, and let her think he'd relented. "Ok. I'll leave it alone. For now. But if Cliff can't pull a miracle out of his ass, I'm counting on you to come visit me in prison. Can't forego the conjugals." He distracted her with his words and a suggestive bob of his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, glared at him, and smacked him on the shoulder. "Jackass."

He grinned, pretended to tip an invisible hat to her, and turned to walk away. As soon as he was sure that she couldn't see him, his jovial and teasing attitude vanished. She wouldn't be helping him with whatever crazy idea he came up with next to keep his ass out of prison. Nobody would. From here on out, he knew he was on his own.

Chapter 18

He had to find a way to get the plastic surgeon to recant. But how? He grabbed the file on the doctor that Veronica had given him and went through it with a fine tooth comb.

'There.' His finger landed on the personal data page. The good Dr. Griffith had a daughter. A fifteen-year-old daughter to be exact. 'I wonder if she goes to Neptune...'

If he was going to save himself, he knew that it would have to be with his own charm, wit, intelligence, money, or some combination of the above.

He thought again about the daughter, and a plan began to formulate in his mind. A younger, likely impressionable girl. How could she resist if a senior, the purported 'King of the 09ers' showed an interest in her? He'd charm her, endear himself to her, and use her along with his own reputation as a womanizer to make her daddy dearest so nervous that he'd regret ever agreeing to give false testimony against Logan Echolls.

Logan grabbed his laptop and pulled up a google search. He typed in 'Hannah Griffith + Dr. Tom Griffith' and watched as the results popped up. After opening several documents, none of which had any pictures attached or further relevant details, he closed the computer and stood, leaning against the counter by the sink, desperately trying to figure out a way to find this girl.

'Now...how do I find her? Does she go to Neptune or some stupid-ass preppy private school?'

Racking his brain for ideas, he momentarily bemoaned the fact that he didn't know anyone who worked as an office aide and could get their hands on her file for him, if one existed.

Sitting bolt upright from where he'd been slouched on the couch, he realized suddenly that a quick glance through last year's yearbook could easily tell him whether or not there was a Hannah Griffith in attendance at Neptune High. Sure, most of the yearbook was taken up by senior profiles, clubs and sports, but they always had a small section for the underclassmen.

Running a hand through his hair, then over his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose, he tried to think of how he could find out, how he could get his hands on last year's yearbook, without alerting anyone to what he was doing. If only he hadn't lost his own copy when his house was burnt to the ground. At least then he wouldn't have to waste time wondering if school would be a plausible (and extremely convenient) location to make his move.

A thought occurred to him and a pleased grin spread across his face. 'The library.' The school library always kept a copy of each year's yearbook for posterity's sake. He'd have to go at a time that nobody he knew would see him. But that wouldn't be a problem. He could definitely make that happen.

During study hall the next day, Logan found his opportunity to check out the yearbook archives in the library. It didn't take him long to locate the edition he needed and he immediately flipped through to last year's freshman class, scanning the 'G's for 'Griffith'. What he found there was a black and white picture of a willowy blonde in one of the preppiest outfits he'd ever seen.

Relieved that he wouldn't have to manufacture some way to meet her in a completely unknown environment, he took a moment to study her, memorize her features as best he could.

'Good a mark as any...' he thought unrepentantly as he flipped to the back to see if she'd been in any sports or clubs the year before. 'She looks like a joiner. Here's hoping.'

He made it through basketball, baseball, pep squad, band, and was about to give up when he came to track and field. 'Bingo.' Now he just had to figure out how to use the information he'd found to his advantage.

In FBLA that week, he found his opportunity. Mr. Pope reminded them all of the upcoming winter carnival and asked for volunteers to run the slushie booth as their contribution to help finance the senior trip.

Logan didn't volunteer. He was too busy plotting and scheming. If FBLA was running a booth, then track and field likely would be, too. If little miss Hannah Griffith was as much of a joiner as Logan was hoping she was, she'd probably be at the carnival and possibly would even be taking her turn manning whatever booth her beloved sport put together.

'Oh, yeah, this is going to work perfectly! Maybe something is finally gonna go right for me!'

As the morning of the carnival dawned, Logan started to have second thoughts about implementing his plan. His hesitation had nothing to do with the unknown entity of Hannah Griffith or how what he was about to do might impact her or her probably perfect world. No. Instead, every doubt in his mind revolved around the pesky blonde who still owned his heart.

'What would Veronica think if she knew what I was doing? Would she get it? Would she understand that I'm only trying to save my own skin? Or would she hate me for toying with this girl's emotions?'

Those nagging questions were what drove him to find her at the FBLA booth the Saturday of the winter carnival. He watched her, unnoticed, from a short distance away. She appeared distracted by the crowd at the pep squad pie booth at first and he thought he might just get by without feeling the need to approach her.

When she called out, though, in a loud voice, trying to gain customers, he knew he couldn't resist responding to her appeal.

"Slushies!" Veronica called out. "Get your ice cold, frozen...sugar water…"

Moving in to lean against the slushie machine, Logan couldn't keep the adoration out of his eyes as he said with a snarky smile, "You had me at ice cold."

As she turned toward him, he schooled his features so he wouldn't give himself away and watched the look of both resignation and delight that crossed her features when she saw him.

"What's your poison?" Veronica asked, her expression clearly saying 'game on.'

The banter and one upmanship between them had always been one of Logan's favorite things. Today, though, he outdid even himself when he replied without missing a single beat.

"Uhh, emotionally unavailable women."

'Ain't that the fucking truth. Why am I even here?'

Not taking him seriously, Veronica drummed her hands on the counter in front of her as if she were highlighting his punchline.

Coming around to stand in front of the booth, Logan looked up at the board that listed the available flavors.

"Let's see. Umm...I want something that suits my mood," he declared as he scanned the possibilities.

This time it was Veronica's turn to respond snarkily, "Ohh, I'm sorry. We're all out of liquid evil."

Logan gave the ghost of a smile and a slight nod, acknowledging her quip before saying, "I'll take two of whatever will turn my tongue blue."

Turning to get his slushies, Veronica asked casually with what Logan thought might be a hint of curiosity in her voice, "Hot date?"

He couldn't resist baiting her. "Rain check?" he asked with a smug grin.

She turned and gave him a pointed stare, one that made his heart leap as he thought, 'Holy shit! She's annoyed that I might be here on a date! She's fucking jealous!'

That thought alone led him to shrug and tell her an acceptable lie. "Night with the fellas. You know how it is." Then, before she could ask any more probing questions, he turned toward the pep squad booth and changed the subject. "Boy, people really love pep squad pie."

"It's genius," Veronica said as he pulled out his wallet to pay her, "Madison's dad gives her $40 to buy a pie from some chi-chi bakery and then drops 3 bills to buy it back in front of a live studio audience. He loves her."

"Oh, the rich," Logan said as he handed her his money, "How they mock you."

She stared at the currency in her hand and asked in a mock disbelieving tone, "There's a $50 bill?"

Logan deadpanned, uncomfortable as he remembered that there was another girl he needed to be flirting with rather than Veronica. "I have them made special."

Veronica seemed to realize that his mood had begun to change. She quickly counted his change and handed it to him, looking like she expected him to be ready to leave.

As he put it in his wallet, he couldn't resist one more little dig as he said, "Ah the hoi polloi. They don't know what they want until they have it."

He watched as she ducked her head and tried to hide a small smile, then he gave her a nod and wandered off, wishing he could stay but knowing that he couldn't.

After spending some time with Dick and learning from him that the track and field team was running the leapfrog booth, Logan gave himself a pep talk and prepped himself to be the nicest, wittiest, most charming son of a bitch that he could be when he met Hannah. His life was depending on it.

Taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves and strengthen his resolve, he put every ounce of his legendary charisma into his performance as he stepped up to the game booth where several underclassmen girls were huddled together gossiping.

A blonde that he almost instantly recognized as his target turned away from her friends as he approached, ready to do her duty and assist him.

"So, I'm not actually leaping frogs myself?" he bantered with a small smile, "I'll try anything once."

The lithe girl before him met his smile with what appeared to be a challenging smile of her own but didn't say a word.

'She's playing along. Nice! This might actually end up being more enjoyable than I thought.'

"Except that," he teased, "You cheeky little…" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he gave Hannah some money and put a frog on the catapult in front of him.

Immediately, the younger girl showed that she wasn't just a pretty face when she said, "Uhh, you don't take physics, do you?"

An image of that well-remembered scene just inside the door to the girl's bathroom flashed instantly in his mind's eye. He heard Veronica's teasing voice echoing her lesson about force equalling mass times acceleration...and pushed it out of his mind even as he said with a lightness that disguised the significance of his words, "I have a tattoo of Newton's second law right on my heart."

Lazily, he let the rubber end of the hammer fall on its target and watched the frog flop off the catapult, nowhere near the lily pad that was supposed to be the goal.

Smiling at her, not bothered in the slightest by the frog's clear miss, he pulled at the neckline of his sweater and asked, "Wanna see?"

His heart ached even as he flirted with the clearly suggestible girl but he forced himself to swallow his feelings and focus on the task at hand. 'She's gotta buy this. She's gotta believe that I'm interested. I can't half-ass this or I'm a dead man.'

Hannah interrupted his thoughts by saying, "You get three tries."

With more affability than he'd ever used when speaking to anyone, Logan said with another smile, "You're so accommodating."

The hammer came down again and this time the frog landed in the water.

Behind Hannah, the other girls were watching now and began to giggle at his display of ineptitude.

Knowing he needed her friends to like him, too, Logan chuckled himself and made a request of them that clearly had more than one meaning. "How about a little support, ladies?"

Playing along, the other girls began to clap and cheer. Again, the hammer came down and again he missed.

Hannah laughed and Logan scoffed, clearly challenging her, "And I suppose you're fantastic at this."

To his delight, her friends started egging her on, telling her to 'show him' so Hannah shrugged before coming around to the other side of the booth where she playfully grabbed Logan's shoulders and moved him out of her way, saying primly, "Excuse me."

'Damn. She almost reminds me of Veronica before...before Lilly died...before I made her life a living hell...before...stop, focus, Logan. You have bigger fish to fry right now.'

While he'd been distracted, Hannah had gotten her frog prepared on the catapult. She looked to her friends and mimicked what he had said with barely concealed glee, "Ladies, a little support."

Her friends cheered again and she struck the hammer down on its target. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't see Logan come close. Just when the hammer fell, he pulled his hand away and acted as if she'd hit it.

Gasping and covering her mouth with her hand, Hannah said contritely, "Oh! I'm so sorry!" while trying to move closer to see the damage she'd done for herself.

Logan turned back to her triumphantly, hand open and clearly not injured. "Oh, I can't believe you fell for that!"

His words were immediately followed by an unwanted thought of another girl with long blonde hair from long ago, a girl who no longer existed except in his memories. 'So like Ronnie. Sweet and gullible but smart and feisty.'

Pushing his thoughts away again, Logan said with a cocky confidence, "I think I should get a prize just for being so entertaining."

Hannah responded unshakably, "Yeah well, I wasn't all that entertained." With a stubbornness that Logan found attractive, she added, "If you want a prize, frog on a lily pad."

This time, he easily landed the frog on its mark and gave Hannah a smug smile and small bow while she chuckled, clearly impressed.

Looking over the prizes, Logan said, "I'd like the pink bunny, please."

When she handed it to him, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Hannah," came the quick response, everything about her saying that she was open and ready for him to make his move.

Reeling her in, he looked down at the stuffed animal and said shyly, "I'm naming my bunny after you, Hannah."

The girl grinned, clearly charmed.

"Actually," he said as he handed the bunny back across the counter to her, "Name it Logan, or break my heart."

He held his breath while he watched her react. When he saw the smitten look on her face, he thought, 'Bingo. Now it's time to give her some room, let her talk to her friends. I can find her again later when she's done volunteering.'

Slowly, he backed away from the booth, holding her gaze, then turned away, hearing in his head, 'And scene.'

Chapter 19

She wasn't what he had expected. He had expected the typical spoiled, self-involved 09er brat who was always looking to one up her peers by dating someone on a higher rung of the social ladder, who participated in school activities for the prestige rather than school spirit or an actual desire to be involved. In short, he had expected another Madison Sinclair, just younger.

What Logan had not expected was to find that sophomore athlete, Hannah Griffith, was actually a sweet, smart, snappy girl who, under other circumstances, would actually be someone he might like to hang out with, become friends with. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Veronica 1.0, the long-haired version who existed before Lilly had died and he had declared war on her. Before she'd been raped.

Back then, even when Duncan and Lilly weren't around, he and Veronica had always had a teasing, bantering, playful rapport. It hadn't been often that they'd been alone together but the times that they were had become special memories etched in his brain, too precious to ever let go of. They reminded him of a simpler time, when the only thing he had to worry about was staying out of the house and away from his dad as much as possible.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Logan focused on what he planned to do next, which was find Miss Hannah Griffith and charm the socks off her. Now that he'd had a chance to meet her and assess the situation, he thought he had a pretty good handle on what his approach should be: playful, bantering, and just the slightest bit vulnerable. She seemed the type that would go for a misunderstood bad boy and that was definitely a role he could play to the hilt.

He found her by the cotton candy booth, paying no particular attention to anything around her while she paid for her blue, fluffy, gooey, goodness. Logan sidled up beside her and snatched some of the candy with a grin. 'If she really is anything like Veronica used to be - hell, still is about food! - then this may result in World War III.'

He wasn't wrong.

Almost immediately, Hannah whirled around and said, "Hey!" in the most adorably accusatory manner he could have imagined.

"Hey," he said back with a smirk before feigning an apology. "I'm sorry, did you want that?"

Hannah rolled her eyes at him and said sarcastically, "No, I bought it for you."

Pretending she'd actually meant what she said, Logan returned playfully, "Aw! You are sweet!" Then, before he went too far or she could decide that he was a total asshole, he changed the subject completely. "So, I couldn't help but notice that you are separated from the herd. I'm concerned. You know, predators and all that."

Giving him a sidelong glance, Hannah retorted proudly, "Well, I can take care of myself."

'I'll bet you can. You are reminding me more and more of Veronica all the time. Spunky little spitfire...'

Out loud he said, "Well that's a shame."

A moment later, Logan took another pinch of her cotton candy which was met with a protest of, "Dude!" that made him to laugh.

'THAT is definitely NOT a Veronica thing.'

"Ok, that sounds so unnatural coming from you," he said with some surprise, still chuckling at the way the word had become elongated on her tongue.

"I say dude all the time," Hannah responded haughtily.

Teasing again, Logan said firmly, "Nope. I don't buy it." Changing tacks again, he said, "You know, you're like the hot daughter of a king that he marries off to get Denmark or something."

'Every girl likes a roundabout compliment, right? Damn, I'm rusty with the Echolls charm. Got used to not needing it. Girls throwing themselves at me because of dear ol' dad, even while I insult them to their faces. This'll be good for me. Brush up on my skills.'

"You mean a princess," Hannah said with a knowing smile that said she knew exactly what he was trying to do and it was working. She was dazzled by the senior bad boy who seemed to be into her.

Doing his best to keep up the charade, which wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd expected it to be, he teased, "You know I'm only ever going to call you princess now."

"No you're not," Hannah responded in disbelief, giving him what could almost pass as a stern look.

The opportunity was too enticing to pass up. He grinned at her and said, "Princess. I am."

Hannah smiled and laughed at him in such a carefree way that Logan only wished he could be as unfettered as she seemed to be.

Logan needed to clear his mind, so he changed the subject. "My friend Dick's working the slushie booth. We should go pay him a visit. He's all about the royals."

Sobering, Hannah said, "I can't. I'm here with my friends."

Not to be put off so easily, Logan responded coaxingly, "So? Go tell 'em you wanna come play with me for a little while."

"What makes you think I want to?" Hannah asked with a sassy tilt of her blonde head that seriously reminded him of another blonde he was desperately trying not to think of at that moment.

With a cocky smirk, Logan snarked back, "What makes you think it's a good idea to pretend you don't?"

Hannah laughed again and turned to jog lightly over to her friends.

Logan's smile was almost triumphant as he watched her giggling and looking back at him as she spoke to the other girls. He could almost hear the giddy gossip in his head.

'Now...how do I make sure that her dad finds out about her sudden interest in the person he's accused of murder? She's cute and sweet and all but I don't want to have to keep up the act too long or it might come back to bite me in the ass.'

Over the course of the afternoon, Logan and Hannah made their way around the entire carnival. They talked and laughed and joked and teased each other in a way that Logan hadn't done with anyone in what seemed like forever. By the time they'd made it to the bounce house and taken a seat against the large round pole in the center, Logan was shocked to find that he was actually enjoying himself.

'Shit. I actually like her. I'd better figure out a way to get down to business, get what I need, and get out ASAP. Last thing I need is to feel guilty for breaking a sweet, innocent girl's heart!'

"Look, just so you know, I take all my dates here. I don't want you to think you're special or anything," he said, realizing that the last part was a reminder for himself just as much as it was a statement to her. She was special. And he probably shouldn't be messing with her. But dammit, he had no choice. He'd exhausted all his other options. It was this or go to jail for the rest of his life. Or worse.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hannah said, "Uh, this isn't a date."

Her words amused Logan and he found himself snarking back lightly, "Um, I bought you a drink. I won you a stuffed animal. Check your dictionary, princess."

Hannah laughed before she confessed, "I haven't had a date yet. I'm kind of holding out for

something special."

'Something special?! WHOA! I haven't heard a statement like that from anyone since...'

He refused to finish the thought. Instead, he said with genuine amazement, "Wow, you are a princess."

When Hannah just laughed again, Logan took the opportunity to redirect her to a subject he was seriously anxious to hear about. "So, from what I hear, most princesses are daddy's girls. Are you a daddy's girl?"

She sobered immediately and looked a bit sad and wistful when she answered, "I used to be. Not so much anymore although sometimes daddy still likes to pretend. I guess I do, too."

Logan hadn't anticipated the heaviness that would descend on the conversation when he brought up her father, but before he could figure out what to say next, Hannah had changed the subject on her own.

Looking over at him with a resigned little half smile, she said, "He's picking me up here tonight, you know. If you walk me out to the parking lot, you could meet him. If you want."

Something about the look on her face brought out Logan's tender side so it was with a soft smile that his fingertips gently brushed the side of her face as he said, "I want."

'Shit shit shit. Definitely crossing a line here. I like her. She likes me. But I can't back out. I have to make this work. I have to follow my plan. FUCK. She is so going to hate me after this!'

Knowing that he had to move things along and realizing he was walking a tightrope that would likely lead to destruction for one or both of them, Logan added, "I also want a date. A 'real' date. What do you think of that?"

A small, soft smile lit Hannah's features. She tapped his nose lightly, playfully as she said, "I want."

It wasn't long before they were strolling toward the parking lot together, walking close enough to bump shoulders regularly along the way.

Feeling less alone and more content than he had in a long time, Logan teased her, saying, "Would you stop trying to hold my hand? Save it for the date, will ya."

Hannah laughed before sobering as she stopped and turned to him. "My ride's picking me up here."

"So I guess I'll see you Saturday," Logan said, confirming their date, not wanting to leave things ambiguous between them when so much was at stake.

She nodded happily and he smiled at her.

"I'll call you," Logan added as she started to walk away.

On impulse, he pulled her back and kissed her. He wasn't sure if it was something he really wanted to do or part of the act. The lines were quickly becoming blurred. But he recovered rapidly when he saw the stunned look on Hannah's face.

"Just in case you don't kiss on a first date," he explained.

A smile filled with awe and humor lit her face and she leaned in to kiss him again.

'Maybe if I'm lucky, she'll still be kissing me when her dad shows up. Bet that would both piss him the hell off and scare the shit out of him.'

When a car pulled up and honked, he glanced over and saw through the windshield that it was none other than Dr. Tom Griffith himself.

'Perfect. Show time, motherfucker.'

As she walked toward the car, he hurried after her, reaching to open the door for her, pouring on the Echolls charm.

"Allow me," he said with a smile.

Returning the smile, she got in the passenger's seat and said, "Hey, Daddy."

Slowly, intentionally, Logan crouched down to make sure that the asshole plastic surgeon would have no problem seeing who his daughter had been cavorting with. He smiled gleefully at him, waved his fingers in the most silently threatening yet pleasant way possible. When he was sure that his point had been made, he rose and walked away.

At school the following week, Logan couldn't wait to find out what Hannah's dad had thought of his performance. He convinced her to sneak around with him and not let anyone know what was going on between them. As he spun his story for her, explaining that he just wanted it to be the two of them for a while, he thought of the time when it was Veronica he had been sneaking around with, and how the sneaking had been at her request. He hoped the reasons she'd given him then worked for him now.

They did. He was smugly satisfied when he found himself making out with Hannah beside the vending machines later, pausing to pretend that they were just talking any time another student came by.

"Strawberry soda," Logan said with a serious nod and a look that told the guy at the drink machine to scram as soon as humanly possible, "Fine choice."

The boy heard the unspoken message and left. As soon as he did, Logan moved back to Hannah, smiling and leaning attentively toward her.

"Where were we?" he asked as she looked up at him adoringly.

'She has no clue who I really am, that I'm a fucking predator and she should run for her life right now.'

"Oh yes," he said, even as his inner monologue was still running its course, "I remember."

His lips met hers and he kissed her leisurely. There was no rush, no passion, no real emotion to it. He liked kissing and she wasn't bad at it. Definitely inexperienced but not horrible. Her instincts were good. All this combined to make it very easy for his mind to drift toward his plan, trying to plot his next steps as they made out.

When they separated, her words stunned him and made his blood run ice cold.

"Are you sure you don't want to take this somewhere more private, like, the trunk of your car?"

Two things happened then. Logan inwardly began to panic as images of intense backseat makeouts with Veronica shot uninvited across the movie screen of his mind. He couldn't even begin to imagine allowing himself to be in that type of situation with the innocent girl by his side. He also realized in that moment that he, Logan Echolls, had limits to how far he was willing to go to save his own ass.

Awkwardly, he mumbled while looking down at his feet, "It's called a stolen moment because we're sneaky about it."

As cute and teasing as Hannah's next words were, they hit far too close to home and stung more than Logan had thought possible.

"Ever consider that maybe you're not as notorious as you think you are?" she asked.

'Fuck. If you only knew.'

Unable to hide his discomfort or the guilt he suddenly felt at how he was using her, Logan refused to meet her gaze as he said, "Come on, admit it, your dad went off on you for getting cuddly with me at the carnival. Right?"

'Please say yes. Please say yes. This has to work. I can't hurt her for nothing and I can't keep this up forever.'

"My dad didn't say a thing," Hannah scoffed.

'Shit. Not good. I'm gonna have to find a way to move things along. This is getting too complicated as it is. Focus, Logan. Do whatever it takes to get her dad to recant and get out. GET. OUT.'

He had to think fast to come up with the right thing to say, something that would inevitably lead towards what he ultimately needed.

Shrugging, he kissed her cheek and temple before saying, "Maybe it's just, I really wanna be alone with you."

'That should do it. Right? Right?'

Her responding smile told him he was on the right track. And when she said, "So when do you wanna be alone with me again?" he knew that he was close. If he could just keep from making any wrong moves, taking any missteps, he'd have this thing nailed.

"I don't know," he said casually, "Saturday?"

"I'm staying at my dad's this weekend," she responded suggestively, "You can come by and watch a movie if you want."

'Bingo. Rub the fact that the supposed murderer is cozying up to his daughter in his face, maybe make it look like we're on the verge of having sex or something, and I should have him right where I want him. If he loves his daughter at all, he'll recant in a heartbeat rather than let her keep me around.'

He tried to keep his expression neutral as he replied softly, "I want."

Chapter 20

It was a balancing act, trying to keep Hannah interested without letting any of his friends know what he was doing. He'd told her that secrets were hot and that sneaking around would be exciting. It reminded him of Veronica, of making out with her on the couch that no longer existed in the house that no longer existed. In some ways, telling Hannah the same thing reminded him that his relationship with Veronica no longer existed.

Logan turned to Dick as they walked down the halls of the school and tried to pay attention. There were so many things going through his mind, it was a nearly impossible task to listen to the inane drivel that Dick was spewing. But Hannah was standing at the end of the hall selling spirit buttons and he desperately needed to ignore her. If Veronica somehow found out what he was doing, she'd get all judgmental and might let the cat out of the bag.

"First of all, I'm not letting her learn to surf on one of MY boards," Dick was saying, "I'd sooner let 'er paddle out on my mother."

Laughing, Logan responded, "Of course you would."

"Right?" Dick said as if he were going to continue his litany of complaints. His next words proved a change of direction to this thoughts, "So, I'm thinking she could come with us to Cabo."

Before Logan could even decide how to react, Hannah came up behind them and interrupted them in a very perky, cheerleader-esque tone that annoyed the shit out of him.

"Hey! You two look like you're in the market for some spirit paraphernalia. I recommend the button."

She pointed to her own button which brought Dick's eyes inevitably down to inspect Hannah's tiny tits.

Obviously unimpressed, Dick said with false enthusiasm, "They're awful tempting!"

His meaning seemed to escape Hannah as she continued to try to gain Logan's attention by saying, "Well, they're for a really good cause. That was sarcasm, by the way."

'Fuck. She's not gonna go away until I at least acknowledge her. Dammit. I'm totally gonna pay for this later...'

Quickly, Logan pulled his wallet out, tossed a bill in the basket Hannah was holding, grabbed a button and pointedly turned to Dick again.

"Dude, you know where we oughta go? We gotta go to Scorpion Bay again." He spared a momentary glance toward Hannah to give her a curt, "Thanks," before continuing his conversation with Dick, "Camping on the beach. Endless point break. That's our place, man."

To ensure his friend remained oblivious and to remind Hannah that their 'relationship' was strictly confidential, he put Dick in a headlock and walked off, laughing and joking as if she didn't exist at all.

Later that evening, Logan parked himself outside Dr. Tom Griffith's front door, ready to pay penance for the incident earlier that day in the hallowed halls of learning. He wasn't sure what it would take, but as he rang the doorbell and waited, he knew that whatever it took, he would do it and without a second thought.

Hannah opened the door and stood there glaring at him, her manner haughty and defiant. Hurt.

'Yep. Deep shit here. Ok, Logan, think about what it did to Veronica when Duncan ignored her and you waged war against her.'

Immediately, a look of guilt and vulnerability crossed his face. His voice was strained when he asked, "You gonna let me in?"

Everything about Hannah radiated how utterly pissed off she was. In fact, she looked like the epitome of an 09er bitch as she said, "Well, I'm trying to act like I don't know you, but…"

'Ok, more hurt than mad. That's totally a cover-up if ever I've seen one.'

Giving her a self-deprecating smile, he waited her out.

'Not a chance she'll be able to resist vulnerable, guilty, AND self-deprecating...'

He was right. She finally cracked and said, "I don't know how you do it. You've got some serious skill."

'Uh oh. Telling her I inherited the acting genes from my parents probably wouldn't go over well. Umm...well, maybe I'll steal a page out of Veronica's book, not that she's ever been self-aware enough to understand what she was doing.'

"It's more of an innate ability to compartmentalize," he stated smoothly, getting a little impatient and more than a little annoyed that he'd been forced to put himself in this position. "Look, I feel like I'm waiting for a tip or something. Can you let me in?"

Hannah shrugged, still not opening the door. She stared him him with a look that reminded him so much of Veronica, sad and disappointed.

'Ok, gonna have to do better than that. Think, Logan. What would she believe? What would sound the most like the truth?'

It wasn't difficult to make his voice sound raw with emotion. His intense gaze bore into hers as he willed her to believe his words. "My first girlfriend was murdered. My last girlfriend nearly got shot-gunned by a PCHer drive-by. I mean, color me crazy, but I see a pattern."

He watched as her icy stare started to melt and he knew he had her right where he needed her to be.

'Now to drive the point home.'

"I'm trying to protect you."

Hannah visibly wilted. She stepped out of the doorway and swung the door open for him.

Having given him a brief tour of the house, Hannah led him down to the basement, saying that she had been about to watch a movie when he'd arrived. She turned on some inane chick flick and settled herself comfortably under his arm.

Less than five minutes into the film, Logan was bored out of his mind. Not to mention how very aware he was that his time to gather information before her dad arrived home was limited.

Casually, his eyes still on the screen, he asked, "So, when did your folks split up?"

The divorce had been something they'd spoken of some in the bounce house so he knew it was a safe place to start.

"Mmm, just a year ago," Hannah responded

That didn't tell him much so he asked, "They tell you why?"

Still watching the movie but clearly trying to split her attention between him and the story, she said, "The official answer, they grew apart. Unofficially I kept hearing them scream at each other about money."

'Money. Definitely a bit of info to file away for future use. It's gotta factor in somewhere. Now I just gotta figure out how.'

He knew his time for inquiries had expired when he heard footsteps on the stairs promptly followed by a deep and quietly controlled voice questioning, "Hannah?"

The girl sitting beside Logan turned and said, "Hi, Dad. This is Logan."

Dr. Griffith's only response was a tense and slightly terse, "Hello."

'Point to me. Definitely caught him off guard, being in his home, with my arm around his daughter. So far so good. Now as long as things keep playing out this nicely, it shouldn't be too terribly long before I get that retraction I need.'

With a smug and pointed look, Logan waved at the doctor and watched him turn and move back up the stairs.

"And there's the Griffith charm," Hannah remarked dryly, "Sorry. That's about the most you'll get out of dad."

Hannah pulled Logan's arm back around her shoulders while he stared unseeing at the TV, trying to come up with a plan for continuing to gather information. He didn't know if or when he'd ever manage to get back inside the doctor's house again and he didn't want to waste the opportunity.

'Maybe there's a way I could do some snooping...'

Excusing himself by saying he needed to use the restroom, Logan went upstairs to the main floor bathroom. He locked himself in and turned the exhaust fan on to give himself a little time and a little background noise to cover what he was doing.

Quickly, he opened the cabinets and drawers around the sink. Nothing out of the ordinary. There were a couple wicker baskets of girly items on the back of the toilet that he rifled through but again he came up empty-handed. He wasn't even sure what exactly he was looking for but he knew that when he saw it, he'd just know.

The last place left for him to look was the medicine cabinet. He held his breath as he read the labels on medicine bottles, looking for pain pills or something else that might be out of place.

It was only by accident that the box of bandaids fell off its shelf and onto the counter where its contents spilled for Logan to see. Instead of the expected disposable bandages, there was a small plastic baggie filled with a fine white powder.

'Bingo.'

In that moment, everything fell into place for Logan. The doctor was a cokehead who got his goods from the Fitzpatricks. For whatever reason, the Fitzpatricks had wanted Felix dead and Logan was a convenient scapegoat. Tensions rose, probably made dealing harder for the Fitzpatricks, put pressure on them when Logan walked so they got the doctor they had in the bag to cover for whichever PCHer stooge had actually committed the crime.

Well, they weren't going to get away with it. Not this time.

He flushed the toilet and washed his hands after putting the coke back in the bandaid box and the bandaid box back in the cabinet.

'Now, how to use this knowledge most effectively...'

When he exited the bathroom, Dr. Griffith was waiting for him. He approached Logan quietly and demanded, "What are you doing with my daughter?"

In the most sweetly smarmy way possible, Logan answered, "You want the complete play by play? It's kinda twisted."

"I want you to get out of my house and never speak to her again," was the doctor's agitated reply.

Knowing he had the upper hand and knowing he had Griffith right where he wanted him, Logan said sharply, "You really want that to happen? You better rethink what you saw on the bridge. Scratch that. What the Fitzpatricks told you you saw."

Angrily, Dr. Griffith snarled, "You can't threaten me, you little punk."

"I wouldn't be here if you couldn't be threatened," Logan retorted smartly.

Apparently having decided to try a different tack, Griffith asked, "So do you wanna be the one to explain to Hannah why you're really here? Trying to bully me?"

Unaffected, Logan responded, "Why don't you tell her? Sounds like you guys are already so close. I'm sure she'll see things your way."

Finally, Tom Griffith broke. "Please don't do this."

Without an ounce of compassion, Logan pounded the final nail in the coffin. "While you're at it, try explaining why you never mentioned how you're the mystery witness in my murder case. That'll be good. Hmm. I guess that never came up on your drive home from the carnival."

After giving the doctor a minute to let his words sink in, Logan added, "Well, I'm thinkin' we're done here. I don't wanna keep Hannah waiting."

With a taunting waggle of his eyebrows, Logan turned and walked back down the stairs where he smugly cuddled back up with his unwitting pawn to finish watching the sickeningly sappy romance play out on the screen.

When the credits rolled, Logan gave Hannah a head shake and eyeroll before saying jokingly, "I prefer my love stories to be a little more highbrow." He suddenly thought of a particular date that never was and felt a sharp pang somewhere in the region of his heart. To cover it up, he looked away and added dramatically, "You know, champagne on the deck of a magnificent yacht with nothing but spectacular ocean views all around you."

Hannah laughed and took his hand, "Come on, it's getting late. I'll walk you to the door."

Back out on the front porch, right where the whole evening had begun, it ended with a nice, long, leisurely goodnight kiss that Logan was sure Hannah's father was observing through the window.

When they broke apart, Hannah looked up at him with a brilliant smile and teased, "See? Now isn't this better than champagne and ocean views?"

Logan gave her an indulgent smile even as his heart ached at the memory. How he was stood up. All because of a misunderstanding.

To distract himself, he pushed her hair back from her face, seeing another blonde instead of her, and motioned with his thumb and forefinger very close together, the universal sign for 'a little bit.'

Ready to make his exit, he spun around and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "Till tomorrow."

With her still watching him and the certainty that her father was still watching her, Logan got into his truck and drove away.

His night was far from over, though. When he got back to the Grand, he hastily made his way to the shower, his favorite place to think besides the beach. He knew there was no way Dr. Griffith was going to leave things alone after he'd found Logan in his home so Logan was definitely going to need a strategy for dealing with Hannah at school the next day.

He closed his eyes as the water pelted down his back, tilting his head into the stream while he took a deep breath.

'I'm gonna have to get her alone. And she's not gonna want to talk to me. She'll be mad but if I can get her to listen, I can get her to believe me. Hell, I'll actually be telling her the truth for a change.'

As he soaped up, a plan began to formulate in his mind. He'd have her called out of class, sent to the office for a message. He'd be waiting for her when she left the classroom and he'd intercept her, drag her into the lab or bathroom, and he'd lay it all out for her. Sure, she'd lose some of that innocence and optimism when she found out her dad was a cokehead, but wouldn't it be better to know the truth than unknowingly live with a lie?

At school the next day, Logan's plan worked flawlessly. He delivered the note to her teacher himself, just to make sure that she actually was in class. She didn't see him, though, so when she left the room to head to the office, she was taken by surprise when he grabbed her and pulled her into the empty lab down the hall.

"What are you doing?" Hannah demanded irritably.

Knowing he needed to figure out where she was at with him, Logan decided to push the limits and said with a smirk as he started to edge towards her, "That depends. What are you gonna let me do."

As he suspected she might, she pushed him away and said accusingly, "I know you stabbed that kid on the bridge. My dad told me everything."

Immediately, he was serious and told her firmly, "No. Your dad is a liar. I didn't kill anyone, Hannah. Your dad wasn't even there."

A hurt look on her face, Hannah wouldn't meet his eyes as she said, "I was worried you were embarrassed of me and you were just using me."

'Shit. I've gotta make her believe this.'

Insistently, he said, "When I met you at the carnival, I had no idea who you were. I swear."

She laughed him off and he knew she didn't believe him. He was going to have to try something else.

'The truth.'

"Look, the reason your parents were fighting about money all the time? It's because your dad was blowing it on coke," Logan stated plainly.

'Fuck. I'm in this now. If I can't get her to look into her dad, I'm totally screwed.'

"My dad is a cokehead?" Hannah responded incredulously, "Please, he's a doctor, Logan."

His intense gaze never wavered. "And that's why a jury's gonna buy it when he tells 'em I killed Felix." He didn't even pause for a breath before he continued. "Your dad is in deep to the Fitzpatrick family, the ones who really wanted Felix dead."

He could see her wavering. Either he was really fucking persuasive or she'd already had some doubts about her dad.

"And I'm supposed to believe you," she said softly, a hint of her doubt evident in her voice.

"You do believe me," Logan pushed confidently, "What I'm saying makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?"

Lifting her eyes briefly, Hannah gave him a pained look. "Let me go, Logan. Please?"

'I've planted the seed. If I push any harder, she'll run.'

Nodding, Logan moved aside as he said quietly, "Just think about it. Check around the house. Keep an open mind."

Silently, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest, nodded, ducked her head, and walked away.

Chapter 21

There was nothing else he could do. Now he just had to wait. Wait to see if she'd actually listen to him, check her father out. Wait to see if she'd find the same thing he'd found. Wait to see if she'd forgive him for using her and come back around. That part was now key. Her dad was holding out and striking back. It was like a game of chess except with much higher stakes. Who could corner the queen first? Who would win the ultimate prize?

Logan couldn't afford to lose. He knew that. Which is why he couldn't sleep that night and why he was anxiously waiting for Hannah outside her first period art class when the bell rang. He studied her, heart pounding in his chest, a silent plea reverberating on repeat through his mind: 'please, please, please, please.' Please what exactly he didn't know. Please let her have found something. Please let him off the hook. Please know he wouldn't have done what he did if he hadn't been desperate...

Anxious and expectant, he waited as she came toward him. She couldn't meet his eyes. Her voice broke as she said softly, "You were right about my dad."

A fuckload of weight instantly lifted off his shoulders as he breathed a sigh of relief. But the sadness and loss of faith, loss of innocence in her eyes as she turned away made him pause.

'Shit. I'm a fucking lowlife bastard.' A momentary pause. 'Her dad is worse, though.' Another break in his thoughts. 'Fuck. She shouldn't be alone right now…'

Unable to leave her to her misery, he found himself moving to catch up with her. Gently, tentatively, he reached out to take her books from her arms. When she allowed that, he shifted them so that he could lace his fingers with hers. He'd stand by her while she dealt with what she'd found. He'd be a friend to her for as long as he could. He at least owed her that much.

They'd agreed when he'd dropped her off for her next class that they would find each other at lunch and talk some more. What they ended up doing, though, instead of talking was a hell of a lot of making out. He'd made a decision as he'd sat through his morning classes, pondering what to make of the latest developments in his situation. If Hannah was going to side with him against her parents, he was going to reward her. He'd be the best, most attentive boyfriend he could be for whatever remaining time they had together.

"So," he asked with a small, playful smile, "you want me to come over after school?"

Hannah grinned and narrowed her eyes as she teasingly accused him of having wayward thoughts.

"The words out of your mouth are come over but all I hear you saying is 'let's have sex'."

Logan's head jerked up in surprise. 'Is she serious? She can't be serious.'

"Excuse me?" he joked back, "All I heard you say was 'let's have sex.' "

While Hannah laughed at his response, Logan couldn't help the swirling thoughts that ran through his mind.

'Fuck. You're gonna have to watch yourself, Echolls. Using her to get out of jail time is one thing. Sleeping with her would be a whole new level of sleazy, even for you.'

There was no way he was going to ruin this sweet girl's first time by tainting it with impure motives. She deserved a better memory than of some asshole who crossed the line in his efforts to save his own skin.

A flash of that fateful party at Shelley Pomroy's shot across the movie screen of his mind and a stab of guilt wedged its way into his conscience. His actions at that party had led to the domino effect which resulted in Veronica's loss of innocence. He wasn't going to allow anything remotely like that to happen again. Ever. In fact, he might even be willing to go to jail to prevent it.

Ironically, just when he'd drawn a line for himself and decided there was a price he wasn't willing to pay to get his charges dropped, he closed his locker and found Veronica there, waiting to call him on his bullshit.

"Toying with a sweet little girl's heart just to screw with her dad?"

Amused, Logan couldn't hide the 'caught with his hand in the cookie jar' look she must have seen on his face.

Without waiting for him to say a single word, Veronica continued, "I get it. San Quentin isn't quite as enticing as, say, college, but damn, you've really plumbed new depths, Logan."

A cocky smirk on his face, he ran a finger down her nose and gave her a very direct, challenging look before saying, "You're cute when you're jealous," and walking away.

Refusing to allow himself to turn enough to see her reaction over his shoulder, Logan thought, 'Is she? Who the hell knows but at least it stopped her in her tracks and got her off my back for the time being. She's a ticking time bomb, though. I'm definitely working against the clock now with using Hannah to get myself cleared. No telling whether or not she'll tell Hannah what she knows if she gets the chance.'

Early that evening, Cliff stopped by the Grand to update Logan on what he'd learned that day. Logan lounged on the sofa comfortably with his feet up and arms draped over the back cushions while his lawyer sat on the arm of the chair across from him, briefcase in hand.

"So, they've set a trial date sixty days from today," Cliff was saying.

A lightning bolt of fear shot straight through Logan's heart but he covered by being as blasé as possible. "Whatever will I wear?"

Ignoring him, Cliff went on, "The DA's offering a one time deal. A plea bargain."

"No," Logan said firmly, stubbornly, "I'm not interested."

"You should be," Cliff responded, "They're talking involuntary manslaughter. That brings your maximum sentence down from 11 years to 4. With good behavior, if you could muster some, you'd be out in half that."

In utter disbelief and outrage, Logan burst forth with, "Two YEARS?!" There was no way he'd last in prison for two years.

Cliff cleared his throat and continued in a neutral tone, "Let me remind you. The prosecution has witnesses. The good kind. Eyewitnesses."

"Cholo lowlives and a lying cokehead plastic surgeon," Logan scoffed.

"A lying, prominent cokehead doctor," Cliff reminded before asking plainly, "And how many jurors do you think you're going to find in Neptune who haven't been exposed to your winning charm in the Tinseltown Diaries?" He paused a moment before adding deliberately, "Jurors love convicting smug rich boys. It's a fact."

When Logan didn't respond right away, Cliff drilled his point home, "I've asked around - and I hope this isn't news to you but - no one likes you."

In frustration, Logan spoke up harshly, "Even if I had stabbed Felix, which I didn't, it would have been self-defense. I got jumped by a gang. Argue that."

"I plan to," Cliff returned, "but the doctor didn't see a gang. He saw three bikers, one of them bleeding to death, and a knife in your hand."

Unable to truly believe what he was hearing, Logan nodded in a daze.

Seeing that Logan had no intention of responding, Cliff went on, "He'll testify that you weren't in peril when you stabbed Felix."

'It doesn't matter. I can't go down for something I didn't do. This just means that my little charade with Hannah is more important than ever.'

With a fiery conviction that came from the depths of his soul, Logan said, "No deal."

Cliff gathered his things before making one last droll remark, "Well, if it helps you decide on your wardrobe, I'll be wearing an 'I'm With Stupid' t-shirt."

Thanks to Cliff's visit, Logan was running late for his night in with Hannah at her mom's house. He was distracted and had also missed dinner. Without really paying attention to what he was doing, he stopped to pick up some snacks on his way. He was about to get back in his SUV when he was jolted to a stop by a kid yelling, "Hey!"

Just as Logan looked up to see if the boy was talking to him or someone else, a spitwad landed in his eye and made him cringe.

"¡Vaya al diablo!" he heard over his shoulder as the kid raced away.

His hands trembled as he pulled himself into the driver's seat and closed the door. It took several shaky breaths before he was able to get his key in the ignition and crank the engine. Once he did, he had to forcibly calm his thoughts before he could manage to drive without getting himself killed.

It had been a hell of a day. The fucking Tinseltown Diaries special on his family. The looming threat of Veronica deciding to blow his cover. Cliff. Now this. Was it possible for things to get worse than they already were? If they could, he was sure that they would.

When he arrived at Hannah's, he remained quiet and distant. He offered her the snacks he'd picked up and mumbled an apology for his tardiness before settling somberly in the corner of the couch to watch the movie he'd mindlessly chosen.

As always when he was agitated, he absently touched his head, brushing his fingers against the hair by his ear. He was restless, jittery, fear and panic overtaking him.

'What the fuck am I doing?'

Hannah's concerned voice jolted him out of his terror-stricken reverie.

"What's up, you?"

"What?" he asked softly, kissing her temple to give himself a moment to gather his composure, "Nothin'."

With a small, teasing smile Hannah chastised, "You lie. Easy Rider? Your choice, not mine. I should be the one sulking."

'She can read my moods almost as well as Veronica could last summer...when she was trying...'

Logan gave her a small smile and mussed her hair affectionately at the thought before turning back to the screen.

Hannah was apparently not done with him yet, though, because she dismissed the fact that he was supposedly paying attention to the movie again and said haughtily, "You know what the punishment is for lying."

Not sure what she was getting at or what she might have planned, Logan realized in surprise that her attitude was chasing away some of his demons for the time being so he went with it.

"What?"

"You lose a nipple."

As soon as the words were out, her long slender fingers had reached over and he felt a sharp pain when she gave him a 'titty twister'.

"Ow!" he yelped, "Are you crazy?!"

He chuckled while he tried to fend her off, ending up with her landing in his lap, straddling him.

"Don't do it again!" he warned.

Play fighting ensued between them and continued until Hannah's mom walked in and caught sight of them.

"Hannah," she said, "May I see you in the kitchen for a minute?"

Quickly, Hannah pulled away from him, obviously embarrassed to have been caught by her mom in such a compromising position, even if it had been nothing more than friendly and playful.

"I...guess," she stammered before recovering enough to say, "Mom, this is Logan."

'Shit. She's never gonna like me but I've at least gotta make Hannah see that I'm trying to be polite and respectful. Stay on her good side. Definitely not gonna be able to keep this up for long, though. Gonna have to find a way to speed things up, push her dad over the edge.'

"Mrs. Griffith," he said awkwardly with a nod, "It's nice to meet you." He paused to gauge her response. When she didn't say anything, he continued, "This is a great place you have here," while thinking, 'flattery will get you everywhere...'

Coldly, the woman before him stated, "It's Denenber. And it's Ms."

Not sure how to respond, Logan scrambled to figure out what to say. "Uh, sorry. Uh...uh…"

Hannah rose from beside him and her mother moved to allow her daughter to pass by so that she could follow her into the kitchen, creating a physical barrier between Logan and Hannah.

'Shit, shit, shit. Think, Logan! You're gonna lose your opportunity. What are you gonna do? How are you going to end this, here and now?'

An idea hit him all at once and he knew it was a stroke of genius. The divorce. The shuffling of the kid back and forth. Instead of trying to play one parent against the other as he'd briefly contemplated doing, he would bring them together. Use one to have the other think they were joining forces against a common enemy. Him.

Logan stood before mother and daughter could leave the room together and said briskly, "Hey, while you two are in the kitchen, do you mind if I use your computer for a second? I just wanna check some fantasy scores."

With a hint of distaste in her tone, Hannah's mother said tightly, "It's in the den."

"Thanks," Logan responded.

He watched them leave the room together before purposefully making his way to the den. Quickly, he pulled up the email server, then scanned the address book for Tom Griffith. After double-clicking on the name, he tapped the cursor to the subject line and typed: "Thought you should know…" before he clicked down to the body of the email.

Immediately, he began typing again.

Tom,

Thought you should know, found birth control

He paused, backspacing to erase what he'd just written.

'Not quite jarring enough...'

Then he started again.

Tom,

Thought you should know, found CONDOMS in Hannah's room. We need to talk.

With a sigh and a moment's hesitation, he hit send.

'Now let's see how fast you recant about what you saw, bastard.'

As he headed back to the family room where they'd been watching the movie, Logan paused in the hallway to listen to the heated conversation going on in the kitchen.

"He's a phony. He's ugly on the inside. All he wants from you is sex. And he's gonna break your heart," he heard from Hannah's mom.

What he hadn't expected were her words defending him.

"You're wrong. Everybody's already decided that he's this bad guy but I KNOW him. They don't and you don't."

'Fuck. Not only did she side with me against her dad but now she's standing up to her mom for me, too?'

He was stunned. He'd never really had anyone go to the mat for him before.

'Except Veronica...'

If only this whole thing wasn't a complete farce, it might have been nice to keep her around as a friend once this was all over.

Before her mom could say anything else, Logan entered the kitchen and attempted to cut through the tension saying, "God bless Tracy McGrady." He mimicked the swoosh of an airball and added, "Life is good."

Neither of the women said a word. Hannah only broke away from her mother's heated gaze long enough to see the honest-to-goodness look of humble gratitude on Logan's face.

Uncomfortable with the situation, Logan looked down at the trash bag in Ms. Denenber's hands and said softly, "That looks heavy. You should let me take it out for you."

Without a word, she grudgingly handed it over, allowing Logan to take it.

He gave Hannah a brief glance, barely meeting her eyes, then walked out, leaving the two alone again.

Once outside, he rounded the corner of the house and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as both his heart and his mind raced.

She believed in him. It was such an oddly uplifting, strangely empowering sensation. If he weren't about to fuck it up by utterly betraying her, he might have liked to try to actually be who she thought he was just to keep the feeling from disappearing.

'What might that be like, I wonder.'

The last time someone had truly had any faith in him was when he'd told Veronica he hadn't killed Felix. Then, as now, a spunky blonde had managed to take his breath away and touch his wounded soul in a way that no one else ever had.

Could this updated version of Veronica 1.0 have helped him get back some of what he'd lost since then? Could she have helped him be a new variation of who he'd been before his life had gone completely to hell?

His heart suddenly ached with the wish that he could find out. He'd lost most of his hope of ever getting Veronica back but maybe this could have been something better.

'Too bad I'll never know...'

After dropping the bag of trash into the bin he found along the side of the house, he made his way back inside and quietly made his excuses while grabbing his jacket.

It was time for him to go. The email he'd sent was sure to mean that this would be the last time he'd see Hannah.

'Probably for the best.'

Standing on the porch, looking out toward the yard, he let out a slightly wistful, slightly regretful breath and slipped his coat on.

To his surprise, Hannah came out to join him and started walking with him as he headed for his XTerra.

'Well, one last goodbye won't hurt.'

She spoke nervously as they walked, "Youuu heard what my mom said, didn't you?"

'Really? We're gonna do this? Why can't I just walk away and have you leave it be? We're not gonna be able to see each other again after tonight anyway...'

With a sigh, Logan grudgingly admitted, "Yeah, I caught the gist."

"Just...ignore her," Hannah said and he could have sworn he heard a hint of desperation in her voice, "She's bitter about the divorce. She thinks all men are evil."

His eyes directed down at the ground, he found himself saying, "Maybe she's right."

Hannah stopped in her tracks, turning to look at him before she asked curiously, "What, about men?"

Reluctantly, Logan faced her, meeting her gaze. "About me." As soon as he said it, he broke eye contact with her, directing his gaze somewhere over her left shoulder.

Guilt poured through him. He hated himself for what he'd done. For what he was doing.

'If there'd been any other way...'

When she spoke, breaking into his thoughts, her voice was soft and warm. "Let's get out of here. Go to your place."

He was so surprised, it took him a moment to put his smirk in place and joke, "Well, I know the words coming out of your mouth are 'let's go to your place' but all I hear is 'let's have sex.'"

With a shrug, Hannah implored nervously, "So?"

'Oh my fucking god! Is she serious?! No. She can't be. Is she? What the fuck am I supposed to do now? How the hell am I supposed to respond to this?'

Logan stared at her in wonder and awe. She looked so innocent, so trusting. How could she possibly think she was ready for such a serious step? She barely knew him!

He realized he was taking too long to answer when she spoke up uncertainly, "Logan?"

Scared shitless, his mind scrambled for any way out of the situation but he found himself stammering, "S-sounds, good."

To give himself some time to think, he kissed her, then kissed her again.

Finally, he thought he had his answer. He pulled away, his eyes burning into hers intently, willing her to agree with him and not push the matter. There was no way he was going to have sex with this girl. She deserved better than to be both fucked and fucked over by him. He had to put a stop to this. Now.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "I don't want your mom to never let me see you again. Maybe we'd better not do this right now."

She studied him a moment, apparently finding in his eyes and demeanor whatever it was that she was looking for, and nodded.

"Ok," she said, "Not tonight, but someday. And soon."

Chapter 22

While Logan was sitting, bored out of his mind, in FBLA, he caught sight of Hannah through the open classroom door. She had a wide grin on her face and her eyes sparkled with mirth as she paused long enough to blow him a kiss.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Veronica scowl.

'Good. Jealous or pissed off, I don't care. I needed her help and she ditched me. Not my fault that Operation: Save Myself has worked out better than I ever could have imagined.'

With smug satisfaction, he reached into the air to catch the kiss, smirking inwardly when he heard Veronica's sarcastic, "Awww."

That evening, Hannah had a track meet so Logan was sitting in his suite playing video games when he heard a knock on his door. He got up to answer it, hoping it would be Dr. Griffith, and was sorely disappointed when he saw that it was Kendall.

"What do you want?" Logan demanded curtly, not in the mood for any of her games.

"Whoa there, cowboy," Kendall said, raising a hand to indicate that she came in peace. "I've just got a little business proposition for you. Then I'll be out of your way for good."

"Sure you will," Logan responded dryly, giving her a skeptical look as he sat back down. Rolling his eyes, he waved his hand at her and said, "Fine. Get on with it. I have better things to do with my time."

"What, like playing video games?" Kendall sassed in return, standing before him in the most form-fitting business dress that Logan had ever seen.

"Tick-tock, Cruella, time's a-wasting, or should I go ahead and call security now?"

"Fine," Kendall huffed, opening a briefcase to bring out some pamphlets and what appeared to be a business plan. Handing them to him, she started telling him about the portfolio he was looking at but he didn't hear a word as he flipped through the leaflets silently.

'What the fuck?! Why would she be coming to me with this?'

Right about then, he heard her say, "And that is why the Phoenix Land Trust is where you should put your money," which completely threw him for a loop.

'Does she really think I'd give her a dime?!'

In the most off-putting tone he could muster, he looked her straight in the eye and said, "I'm confused. You're talking and your clothes are on. I'm starting to think you really came over here to try to sell me real estate."

"I told you, it's my job," Kendall responded in a halfway scolding manner.

"And that must be the second sign of the apocalypse." Logan stated as another knock sounded at the door.

'PLEASE let it be Griffith this time...I don't need anyone else telling me what I should or shouldn't do...'

He figured if it wasn't the doctor at the door, the only person it was likely to be was Veronica, ready to chew him out again.

Hastily, Kendall acquiesced, saying, "Well, I tried. Um, do you mind if I freshen up before I go?"

Already on his way to the door, Logan looked over his shoulder and spread his hands in a mockingly helpless gesture, "Freshen up for what?"

To his relief, it was Tom Griffith standing in the hall outside his suite. The man appeared to be extremely agitated.

'Ah, good. This is it. This is where I finally get those fucking charges dropped.'

"All right, Logan, you win. I'm serious. This stops now."

Griffith pushed past Logan to enter the suite, obviously not giving Logan the chance to disregard him or shut him out

"Sure, come on in," Logan murmured sarcastically under his breath.

He had just turned to face off with the doctor when Kendall came out of what used to be Duncan's bedroom. It had nearly slipped Logan's mind that she was there but now he was more than thrilled that she was. He saw the barely controlled look of disgust on the doctor's face and smirked in satisfaction.

'If he was on the edge before, this will surely push him over the top.'

Kendall sauntered toward them, clacking her heels as she moved. When she got to Logan's side, she said as she looked Griffith over from head to toe, "I see you have company. I'll let myself out. But, um," she saucily kissed two fingers and placed them against Logan's lips and he returned the kiss with a gleeful grin, "think about my offer."

After giving the doctor another once over, Kendall left the suite, with Logan pointedly ogling her ass until she was out the door.

He couldn't keep the smug smirk off his face as he turned back toward the father of the girl he'd been dating.

"Mark my words, some day that smirk is gonna get wiped off your face." Griffith stated angrily.

"Oh please. Let the lying cokehead plastic surgeon lecture me on karma," Logan spat out disdainfully.

"Certainly caught up with me," Griffith responded before commanding, "It ends now. I'll make my testimony go away."

Not willing to trust the man, Logan asked warily, definitely ready to get down to business, "What about the Fitzpatricks?"

"Let me worry about them," Griffith answered firmly, "You just stay the hell away from my daughter. Is that a deal?"

For a moment, Logan almost regretted what he had to do. As he gazed at his nemesis, a sad, stubborn defiance filled him. He blinked but didn't say a word.

Apparently taking Logan's silence as agreement, Griffith turned and walked out, leaving Logan to think about the consequences of his actions.

Sure, he'd gotten the testimony to go away and that was what he'd wanted. He just wished it didn't have to be Hannah who had to pay the cost for getting his case dismissed.

How was he going to explain to Hannah, the one person who had been on his side, who had defended him when no one else would...how was he going to explain to her that he'd been using her more than she even knew and now the ruse was over?

'Why do I fuck up every good or decent thing that comes into my life?'

Maybe it was time for him to ask the original 'good thing' what he should do to stop the cycle. It had to end somewhere eventually. Right?

Logan entered Java the Hut hoping to find that Veronica was working. He caught sight of her heading toward the bakery counter and tried to get her attention by saying, "Hey."

His voice sounded defeated even to him. When she turned to look his way, he couldn't meet her eyes. He knew he'd proved her right. He was an ass. Guilt about what he'd done filled him to overflowing.

Swallowing hard, he stumbled over his words. He put an apology in them as he said, "I know you're busy but, uhh…" He forced himself to meet her gaze. "I think I've done something horrible."

He saw the look of concern on her face and his heart clenched. She quickly got a co-worker to cover for her and they moved to one of the back tables where he quietly filled her in on the whole story.

Surprisingly, she didn't scold or reprimand him while he talked. Instead, she listened and let him get out what he needed to say. Then, when his shoulders were slumped and he was completely exhausted, she said quietly, "You really couldn't trust Cliff to get you off? You had to go and do all this yourself?"

"Cliff couldn't get me off, Veronica," he responded just as softly, begging her silently to understand, "I was offered a plea bargain. If I pled down to manslaughter, I'd get four years, two if I could manage good behavior. I couldn't do that. Not when we both know I'm innocent."

Veronica's eyes were wide with disbelief. "But it was self-defense!" she exclaimed, using almost the exact words that he himself had used when talking to Cliff.

"And I'm a smug, rich asshole that the jury would have enjoyed taking down a peg or two, regardless of the facts," Logan responded.

When she looked at him again, he thought she almost appeared to be hurt or offended. He wondered why until she spoke.

"You could have come to me again, you know. If I had known - "

Logan cut her off more harshly than he'd intended, "If you had known, you would have given me more excuses for why I should just trust the system. You had a lot going on. And you didn't want to deal with a smug jackass like me."

"I - " Veronica started to protest but Logan stopped her again.

"You don't have to explain, Veronica. I get it. If I were you, I wouldn't have helped me, either," he acknowledged, pursing his lips with a sort of sad stoicism, "That's why I helped myself."

After a heavy pause, Veronica put her hand on Logan's arm and said sincerely, "You did what you had to do."

Sharply, his gaze rose to hers and he blinked.

'What did she just say?'

She could apparently read him as well as she ever had and she continued with a sheepish half-smile, "I'm sorry I didn't help more. I was distracted and I really thought that Cliff would be able to make this go away again."

Veronica Mars admitting she'd been wrong? Which number sign of the apocalypse were they on again?

Smiling back at her in appreciation, he wondered if this meant they could at least renew the tentative bonds of their former friendship.

'If I'm gonna break things off with Hannah like I'm supposed to, I really need you. Don't desert me again, ok?'

"You know, I really did start to like Hannah," Logan admitted softly, "Or at least, I liked who she thought I was, who she made me think I could be…"

Veronica visibly softened toward him. She hadn't yet moved her hand from his arm and she gave it a little squeeze. "Yeah. I...know what you mean."

He inhaled deeply, giving her a vulnerable, almost shy, smile and a nod. Yeah, she would know, wouldn't she?

'Now I just have to figure out how to let Hannah down easy. This is so gonna suck some balls...but at least I'll have Veronica. Maybe?'

When Veronica came up to him after their English class the next day, he had some hope of his wish actually coming true. But the longer their conversation went on, the more sure he was that he was likely to be completely on his own again before the day was over.

"So, you should be able to write quite an essay on freedom," Veronica had begun, "How does it feel to have your case dismissed?"

Logan had been ecstatic to have her actually finding him and starting a conversation. He turned to face her and said, "Freedom feels...liberating."

"So you've got your title," she'd said as if checking it off the list of requirements for a good essay. But then she got to her point, looking at him with those imploring eyes and he just couldn't meet her gaze anymore. "And did Hannah understand why you wouldn't be seeing her anymore?"

Looking at his feet, Logan didn't say anything. His lack of response was enough for Veronica to start on a tirade.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" she asked, disbelief in her tone before she said angrily, "You owe her an explanation."

"What exactly am I supposed to say?" he asked defensively, rolling his eyes at her as she scoffed.

He turned and walked away but even as he did, two things hit him. One, he doubted that Veronica would be coming up to him anymore after that. He'd probably effectively terminated whatever goodwill she might have had for him after their conversation the night before. And two, she was right.

'I can't treat Hannah like Duncan treated Veronica. I saw what being ignored without reason did to her. I'm gonna have to man up and tell Hannah like it is.'

Whether he was ready or not, Hannah was waiting for him in the quad at lunch. He got several high five's from other 09ers but when Hannah came toward him with her own hand held up for him, he refused to acknowledge it and instead moved beside her and guided her toward the parking lot. He hoped that by the time they got there, he'd have figured out what to say.

Before that could happen, though, Hannah started talking, making him more miserable by the minute.

"Don't leave me hangin'," she said teasingly, then she changed it to, "Ok...forget that. Give me two."

When he ignored her again, she asked, still maintaining her perky attitude, "Where have you been all day? I wanted to congratulate you on the big news but I couldn't find you. I ended up telling the janitor that your locker was mine and that I forgot my combination so that he'd open it up and I could leave you a little surprise. But I made it before I heard they dropped the charges so keep that in mind."

Glancing at her for the first time since they'd left the lunch tables, Logan asked blandly, "You lied to a janitor?"

With a roll of her eyes, Hannah said sardonically, "I've resigned myself to burning in hell," then she added with a note of glee in her voice, "You know, all the girls on track are jealous of me."

Darkly, Logan responded, "I'm sure they could burn in hell, too, if they just, uh, put in the effort." He was getting more and more irritated by the second.

"Nooo, they're jealous because after the meet on Sunday, they're going to Wrestler's Ranch and I'm going sailing with this totally hot senior," Hannah grinned, a dreamy little smile on her face.

'That does it. This ends now. I can't take Miss Sunshine anymore when I know I'm about to break her heart.'

Logan stopped and turned toward her, barely able to get out the words. "We can't see each other anymore."

Hannah came up short, halting where she stood, hugging her books to her chest. "What? So, is this some kind of weird joke that's going over my head?"

"You're a really sweet girl, but…" Logan began, unable to meet her eyes.

"But what?" Hannah asked, her voice sounding small and frail.

'Do it. Plunge the knife in. Don't let her have the tiniest bit of hope that this could work out.'

"But I'm not a sweet guy," he stated, meeting her eyes for the first time during their entire exchange. Immediately, he turned and started to walk away, wishing he couldn't hear the words she called after him.

"If this is really some kind of joke, please tell me the punchline soon. 'Cause I could really use a laugh about now."

He could hear the tears in her voice and turned back without meaning to but promptly forced himself to turn away again, leaving her where she stood.

'I'm an ass. I'm the worst fucking human being in existence.'

Chapter 23

When the locker swung open, the first thing Logan saw was a bright pink box. He'd almost forgotten what Hannah had said about the janitor. Lifting the lid, he looked inside and smiled at the cake he saw. A yellow Monopoly game card was sitting on top of it and read: 'Get Out of Jail Free.'

'Who does this? A fucking cake. She left me a goddamn cake and what did I do? Gave her her first broken heart, that's what. Who does what I did? An asshole. Well, nobody ever said I could have my cake and eat it, too. Guess I'll just be eating it at this point...'

As Logan closed his locker, Dick sidled up to him and clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Dude, so we hangin' this weekend or does that chick still have your sac locked up in her easy bake oven?"

After taking a moment to clear the cobwebs from his head, Logan said, "Actually, I am a free man."

Dick high-fived Logan to show his approval, commenting happily, "The way we should be, man."

"We?" Logan queried, "What happened to Madison?"

"She bailed," Dick responded flatly. His next words were mocking, "According to her friends, she met someone more mature."

"Where? Legoland?" Logan scoffed.

"Whatever, man," Dick said, blowing the whole thing off, "Maturity is like one of the two most overrated things on the planet."

"The other being?" Logan asked, glancing over at Dick with mild curiosity.

"Chicks," Dick replied as if it were obvious.

Logan smirked in amusement, "Oh, so this worked out great for you."

"Dude, why do you think I'm in such a good mood?" Dick asked with a shit-eating grin, "Screw it. This weekend. You and me. Partying like Ozzy."

Laughing, Logan shook his head and he and Dick separated, each heading toward his next class.

The weekend arrived and found Dick and Logan playing video games in the suite at the Grand. It didn't matter, though. Logan became more and more agitated the more bored he got. He needed constant distraction to keep himself from thinking about what he'd done to Hannah, and video games, beer, and junk food just wasn't providing it.

He pulled the plug on the game system and Dick immediately looked up and demanded, "What?!"

In a sardonic monotone, Logan stated, "I'm just imagining what Ozzy would think of your concept of partying like Ozzy."

Dick got up, shrugged and said, "You wanna...snort a line of ants. I'm in. Come on, we're free men. Reject the rule of women. Get into the spirit."

Logan missed whatever Dick said next. He was too busy wishing for some slightly more scintillating conversation instead of the same tired shit he was putting up with from the only friend he currently had.

"My suspicion is you're afraid to embrace your true nature."

The words interrupted Logan's thoughts. He glanced at Dick and asked skeptically, "Which is?"

"We are lone wolves, dude. High plains drifters, life takers, an' heart breakers," Dick smirked, speaking in his best gruff twang.

'Lone wolves,' Logan thought bitterly, throwing popcorn at Dick's head, 'I hate being alone. Alone in a crowd. Alone with my supposed friends. Always alone. I'm fucking sick of it.'

Eyes narrowing, Logan jeered, "Who play video games all day."

"Who don't give a damn what other people say 'cause they don't give a rat's ass," Dick returned as he went to the mini fridge and pulled out a pink box, opening it to see what was inside. "Dude, you got cake."

Logan strolled over to the bar and looked down at the cake. The last piece of goodwill he'd probably ever see from the girl who had been a true friend to him even when he least deserved it. As he watched Dick stab a knife into the dessert, Logan felt a stab of guilt and sadness sink into his soul.

"What the hell, man?!" Dick exclaimed as he hit something in the middle of the cake. He started to dig in with his fingers until he pulled out a piece of metal covered in frosting. "What is this?"

'Shit.'

"Nothing," Logan said sharply, "It's a file."

Dick laughed in response.

The gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach made him morose. He grabbed a fresh beer bottle and pulled the lid off, "But you're right. Life takers and heart breakers." He lifted the bottle to toast Dick, "To not giving the ass of a rat."

He raised the bottle to his lips and took a couple swigs before guzzling it, wishing it was something stronger.

Once Dick finally left, Logan did his best to drink himself into oblivion. It didn't work, though. All he could think of was the missed opportunity with Hannah. She had believed in him. Maybe he could have been who she thought he was if he hadn't had to cut ties to save his own neck.

'Wait. Now that the charges are dropped...Could I? Would she…?'

The thought had barely taken hold before he had decided he at least needed to give it a try. He had nothing left to lose.

When the girls' track team finished practice on Monday afternoon, Logan was waiting at the back of his SUV for Hannah and her friends to come off the field. He caught her eye but she continued walking and he knew this was his only chance.

Pushing off his back bumper, he followed her, knowing he sounded desperate but not able to bring himself to care, "Your dad dropped his testimony so I'd quit seeing you."

Hannah stopped. Her friends took off and she finally turned in his direction. "I figured." She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "So did you ask me out so he'd do it?"

It had been a long time since he had felt so vulnerable. He swallowed hard, nodded, and answered softly, "Yes."

"And you want me to forgive you," she stated.

He knew it wasn't a question but there was a lot at stake. He didn't want to be left to his own devices, with no one believing in him, expecting him to be a better man. He needed to tell her and she needed to know that he meant it.

Refusing to hide himself from her, he felt like he was finally letting her see who he really was as he said firmly, "Yes."

Her eyes softened immediately and she gave him a little smile.

Relief flooded him. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet and moved in to rest his forehead against hers before cupping her face in his hands. His lips moved against her skin and he murmured, "So what do you want to do now?"

She moved her lips to his ear, the grin apparent in her whispered words, "I haven't seen your place yet," she paused before adding boldly, "In other words, let's have sex."

Logan's heart sped up considerably. She'd forgiven him. She knew everything and she'd forgiven him. And she still wanted to sleep with him. He was so grateful for what she'd just given him, he found himself suddenly determined to make what he knew would be her first time the absolute best first time imaginable.

Leading her to the passenger side of his XTerra, he opened the door for her, giving her a peck on the cheek before shutting the door and heading around to his own side. He grinned cheekily at Hannah before he squealed the tires and sped out of the school parking lot, taking the most direct route possible to the Grand.

They giggled and snarked back and forth at each other as they made their way through the corridors, kissed in the elevator, and fought over the keycard to his suite. Once they were inside, the atmosphere between them changed.

Logan studied Hannah from where he sat on his couch. She stepped between his legs and kissed him, moving to straddle him as the tension between them grew.

'I'm doing this. She has stuck by me when no one else has. I care about her. And I'm doing this.'

He let her take his shirt off and kissed her again, unbuttoning her shirt and removing it. His lips grazed along her jaw until he reached her neck while his hands moved to her waist, undoing the button of her jeans before his mouth moved down to brush over her belly button.

She lay back and just as he was about to pull her pants down over her hips, his door swung open, startling them both.

"Hannah!" came the sharp, angry voice of Dr. Tom Griffith.

Gasping as she scrambled up, Hannah demanded, "What are you doing here?!"

Without answering, her father threw her overshirt at her and commanded, "Get dressed."

"I am!" Hannah responded with exasperation, her trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

Logan stayed where he was, head in his hands as the scene played out as if it were in slow motion before him. He knew it was too much to ask that not only would she forgive him, but he would also be allowed to keep her friendship or whatever the hell it was that he had with her that made her have so much faith in him.

He was mentally berating himself for the hope he'd permitted himself to feel when he heard Griffith seething above him.

"I told you to stay away from her," he growled menacingly, "You're lucky I don't kill you."

"Daddy!" Hannah yelled in shock.

Dismissing her concern, her father directed, "Hannah, get your things."

The tone that the lying plastic surgeon scumbag used with his daughter drove Logan to stand and defend her. She'd stood up for him. Now it was his turn to do the same for her.

"Don't speak to her like that."

Instead of addressing Logan's protest, Dr. Griffith spat reproachfully, "We had a deal."

Logan looked the man straight in the eye and answered defiantly, "Yes, HAD. Now we don't. And there's nothing you can do that'll stop me from seeing her."

"Wanna bet?" Griffith sneered before he turned, grabbed Hannah roughly by the arm and said curtly, "Let's go."

For a long time after the door slammed shut behind them, Logan sat, distraught and shaken. It had seemed so simple when he'd been drunk and determined over the weekend. Now everything had gone to hell again. Sure the doctor's testimony was gone; there was definitely no way the man could go back and change his mind again, but there wasn't a doubt in Logan's mind that the good doctor would find some other way to make his life a living hell.

'What have I done? Hell, what was I about to do?! Fuck. I'm no good for her. Even when I'm trying to be who she thinks I am, all I do is mess it up. I've gotta fix this. Fix this or stop ruining her life.'

Maybe she was better off without him but he needed someone like her in his life. He had to find a way to redeem himself, make things right with her. But first, he needed to know how her father had gotten into his suite in the first place.

Storming down to the front desk, Logan glanced briefly at the desk clerk's name and spoke with the most charming but forceful tone he could muster.

"Tina. Excuse me. Hi, I'm Logan Echolls. Staying in the Presidential Suite. I need to speak with the manager immediately." He lowered his tone as he added urgently, "It's about a breach of security."

The blonde in her early twenties looked alarmed. "Yes, sir. I'll get him for you right away."

She disappeared to the back and came back several moments later with an earnest-looking gentleman who was absolutely not the same person who had arrived in his suite with Dr. Griffith.

'If it wasn't the manager who let him in, then who was it?'

"How can I help you?" the manager asked in the kind of calming, appeasing tone that one would expect of someone dealing with a spooked horse.

Checking his nametag as well, Logan addressed him specifically, "Mr. Sparks, am I a valued guest of this establishment?"

Startled, the man responded, "Why yes, of course, Mr. Echolls. What seems to be the problem?"

"The problem," Logan said with mounting agitation, "is that one of your employees allowed a man to burst into my suite unannounced and without my permission. I thought this hotel was supposed to be known for it's privacy and discretion."

The manager blinked and rushed ahead with reassurances, "W-we do respect our guests' right to maintain their anonymity. I have no idea how such a thing could have happened. I assure you, I will look into this myself and take care of the matter personally."

"See that you do, and make sure that whoever it was doesn't have a job tomorrow," Logan returned coldly as he spun on his heel and headed back to his room. Now he needed to focus on whether there was any way to recover from what had happened.

During lunch the next day, Logan searched for Hannah in the quad. When he couldn't find her, he approached her friends and asked, "Hey, did Hannah miss school today?"

"Didn't you hear?" the brunette in the middle of the group asked.

"No…" Logan responded, waiting for them to tell him what he'd missed.

"Her parents sent her to boarding school in Vermont," she replied, adding for clarity, "She's gone."

Logan turned and walked away in a daze.

'Well, that's the end of that.' He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. 'Alone again.'

Chapter 24

Seated toward the back of the classroom, Logan ignored everyone and everything around him, focusing instead on the graphic novel he was hiding behind. All he wanted in the world in that moment was for life to give him a break, pass him by, let him bask in the sweet relief of his freedom.

It wasn't meant to be, however. He felt eyes on him from all around so he put his defenses up, shielded himself with an air of amusement and let the Echolls charm flow from him with an uncanny ease.

"I'm sorry, did someone say my name?" he asked over the top of the hardcover still resting upright on his desk.

Only by his powers of deductive reasoning did he figure out that he'd actually won the stupid essay contest on Freedom, the one that came along with a week-long internship with the mayor and the chance to push the plunger to implode the old Shark Stadium. He hated having attention drawn to himself by an academic distinction - not that it had ever happened before - it messed with his carefully constructed "devil-may-care" image.

When the bell rang and the class was dismissed, Logan found himself in a not altogether displeasing scenario. A handful of girls had immediately surrounded him to congratulate him on his win. He stood with hands clasped in front of him, faux humility in his tight-lipped smile but he wasn't really paying attention to them at all.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Veronica wove between the desks to the front of the classroom where she quickly glanced at the first page of the essay the teacher had pinned there for all to see. She flipped through to the end and he inwardly smirked at her reaction.

It wasn't long before she was marching toward him. The crowd around him had thinned some and he graciously dismissed himself from the others in order to meet Veronica near the door, bracing himself for whatever she might choose to say.

"Freedom. That's what it's all about but talking about it and being it, that's two different things," Veronica recited with an overly dramatic flare.

Entertained yet still wary, Logan responded with feigned relief, "Phew. You came up all deliberate-like. I thought you wanted to be first in line to ask me to the Sadie Hawkins dance, not recite my prize-winning essay."

"Neither, actually," Veronica retorted snidely, "I'm quoting Easy Rider, which you may remember making me watch last summer?"

'Ahh. Is that what's bothering her? So she really did only look at the first page. Of course. Why should I expect anything different?'

"That's funny," he said, keeping his tone light, confused, and a bit ironic, "It sounds a lot like my essay."

She glared at him in response and said spitefully, "Yeah. Weird."

Before he could say anything more, correct her - not that he would - she turned on her heels and briskly strode away.

Logan allowed a wistful smile to cross his face as he watched her leave. If only she wouldn't always assume the worst of him. She might actually find that there were times he did the right thing.

Regardless of what she thought, he hadn't plagiarized his essay. He hadn't needed to. An essay on freedom? She'd been right. He knew all about that from firsthand experience. When he'd sat down to write, just the night before of course, the line from his favorite film had been the first thing to pop into his head.

He'd gone with it. Quoted exactly what she'd accused him of stealing, and cited it appropriately in the text as well as in the bibliography. Yes, had she bothered to pay attention, he had actually written a bibliography at the back of his paper.

Everything else had just flowed out of him from there. Sure there were a few other quotes intermingled amongst the text but that was a very 'Logan' thing to do anyway, wasn't it? After all, it wasn't for no reason that he changed his voicemail message daily.

He loved pop culture and he loved words. In fact, he might have actually written his life story in a journal just to get it out if he wasn't always concerned that someone would get ahold of it, publish it, put his innermost thoughts and fears on display.

The bell rang, startling him out of his reverie. He glanced one more time in the direction Veronica had disappeared.

'Well, at least I know I'm still on her radar...'

Later that day, Logan was on his way to the parking lot to head to his first day interning with the county supervisor when Veronica stopped him. Hearing her voice coming from behind him sent a tingle down his spine.

'And she's definitely still on my radar.'

"Hey, I need a second," she said.

As soon as he knew he could appear unaffected by her presence, he turned to face her, walking backwards while he waited for her to catch up. Once she was by his side, he turned again and said brusquely with the faintest bit of ironic humor, "I'm sorry. I can't be late for my first day. Call the county courthouse, ask for the assistant to the honorary deputy mayor, have 'em pencil you in."

"I need you to do something for me," Veronica said.

'What? No snark? No quips? Must be pretty serious. Hmm...well, after this morning, she can work a little harder to get my cooperation.'

"Veronica, ask not what Logan can do for you but what you can do for Logan."

"That's gonna get old real soon," Veronica responded dryly.

Tossing his keys in the air and catching them over and over, Logan said flippantly, "Let me know when that time comes. Until then, you know me. I'll just be speaking softly and carrying a big stick."

With a confrontational huff, Veronica snatched his keys from mid-air and blocked his way. He cleared his throat in annoyance but couldn't help the affection that grudgingly spilled over in his next words.

"God, you're a pest."

Ignoring his slight, Veronica demanded, "Tell me everything you remember about the night Felix was killed."

'What the hell does she need to know that for?!'

"You do know I've been cleared of all charges, right?" Logan asked incredulously before adding sardonically, "The whole dead Felix thing has lost its intrigue for me. When something stops being important to me, my memory gets a little fuzzy. Wait," he paused and pretended to study her face in confusion, "Who are you?"

"The murder is still unsolved," Veronica stated adamantly.

"And yet, somehow, I sleep like a baby," Logan retorted.

He shut himself down, closed himself off. This was obviously not about him and he needed to protect himself from her magnetic pull.

"If Thumper did do it, he's about to get away with killing Felix, framing you, taking over the PCH bike club, and cornering the high school drug trade. We should invite him to speak at FBLA."

Logan hardened himself against her logic, saying with all the indifference he could muster, "Follow the bouncing ball. Not. My. Problem."

Veronica held up his keys as if she were giving up but he knew better. He swiped at them anyway and smirked when she pulled them back and out of his reach.

'Damn. I can't stay mad at her even when I want to.'

"You don't remember anything?" she asked intently, all playfulness now gone from her countenance.

His gut twisted, telling him he'd answer anything she asked at that point. Almost.

She continued, pushing with some of the details she was hoping to obtain, "About the guy who stopped and helped you? The 9-1-1 caller?"

'Shit. Is there any way that info could come back to bite me? Not sure how it could but still...'

At least somewhat serious now himself, Logan responded in a casual manner, "Mexican dude, driving a truck. Oh! His truck had a bumper sticker. It said, 'How's my driving, call 1-800-Eat'...something…"

With a knowing yet reluctantly defeated smile and nod, Veronica said sincerely, "Thanks," then added dismissively, "Well, run along, Deputy Dog, go serve your community."

The keys left her hands, tossed in the air for him to catch, which he did easily. He dramatically cupped them in his palms and brought them to his lips, kissed them, inclined his head toward her in acknowledgment and started to walk away.

'Aw screw it.'

Before he could change his mind again, he turned back toward Veronica, mask fallen away, and said honestly, "I think it was a San Diego seafood truck. I'd probably know him if I saw him."

The look on Veronica's face was worth whatever imagined risk he'd just put himself through. Her wide smile of appreciation made him pause another moment, long enough for him to impulsively make an offer he hoped he wouldn't later regret.

"I'm free after this internship thing, you know. I could probably be convinced to join you on a stakeout or something, see if we can't find your guy…"

He could see the moment of hesitation in her eyes but then she nodded briskly and said, "Yeah, ok. I'll pick you up. Your yellow beast would be way too conspicuous. Not to mention it's an eyesore."

The grin he flashed her was one of amusement and he couldn't help but tease her before he disappeared into the parking lot, "You never seemed to mind the backseat!"

Quickly, he hurried off before she could reply.

Later, while he was waiting for Veronica to pick him up for their stakeout, Logan reflected on the few notes of interest from his day in the county supervisor's office.

First, it had been obvious from the moment Woody realized who the essay contest winner was that he wasn't pleased with the prospect of having to deal with the son of an accused murderer for a week.

'He was probably planning some publicity stunt and I totally ruined it for him. Good. I hope I did. He's a fucking wannabe kiss-ass politician anyway. Screw him.'

Really, though, he had to admit that when Goodman had brought up his father as if he didn't have an identity of his own apart from 'Aaron Echolls's son', it had stung.

'Will I ever manage to be judged based on my own fuck-ups alone or will I always have to pay for the sins of my father as well?'

The only other thing of any interest that had happened was that he'd found that stalkerish disc that he'd shown to Woody and Keith.

He didn't have a clue why Keith Mars had been there but when he'd seen the footage of what had looked like the inside of someone's house, he'd been glad the private detective was on hand. At least that meant someone competent might end up on the case.

When he looked up, he saw Veronica's beat up LeBaron skidding to the curb and he shook his head with a chuckle.

"Sorry I'm late," Veronica apologized as he lowered himself into her passenger's seat, "Got caught up running a few checks for Dad at the office," she explained.

"If you'd been any later, you would have owed me dinner for my time," Logan quipped easily.

Veronica rolled her eyes and flashed him a smile but didn't speak until she pulled away, headed for the San Diego Seafood headquarters.

"I'd rather owe it to you than cheat you out of it," she said, her eyes back on the road.

"Right," Logan said in a dry tone, "I'll just put that on your tab."

For a while, a comfortable silence settled between them. Logan let his thoughts drift, feeling settled and content in his newfound ability to relax companionably with his oldest friend without having to ask her for help, kiss her ass, or otherwise survive the sense of impending doom that comes from having murder charges held over one's head.

When he did speak, it was only about ten minutes into the actual stakeout and he couldn't help his critical and sarcastic words.

"So this is staking out, huh? It looks sexier in the movies."

His remark was all but ignored, however, and the words that Veronica did speak surprised him.

"Did you hear anything from Hannah?" she asked.

'Wait, what? Why is she asking that? Is she asking as a concerned friend or a jealous ex?'

His response was tinged with only a hint of bitterness, "Does deafening silence count?"

Veronica's answer was typical banter for them but it served to reassure Logan that they were somehow back on friendly terms and she wasn't just tolerating him because she had to.

"You know," she deadpanned, "I'm not sure, but I think when they start shipping your girlfriends off, you're officially a bad boy."

She held up her hand for a high five that Logan provided without hesitation.

He thought about everything they'd been through, how far they'd come, how lucky she was to have the kind of father he'd always dreamed of having, and how much he wished that - if nothing else - they could go back to being friends again, like when he used to slip over to her house when things got too bad at his own.

In a sardonic and self-deprecating manner, Logan snarked, "Her dad and your dad should get together and go bowling."

That brief conversation had rubbed him raw and he stared straight ahead to avoid any possibility of her reading his expression or trying to pity him.

As he looked unseeingly at the building in front of him, a movement caught his eye and he said, "Hey, there he is."

A Hispanic man in his early to mid-thirties stood at the back of a truck, glancing down at some papers that he held in his hands.

Veronica and Logan shared a look before they both got out of the car with Veronica approaching the man first.

"Excuse me?" Veronica said, making her presence known.

The man looked up and Veronica continued, "Hi. Um, sorry to bother you. We were hoping to ask you about an incident we think you witnessed last May? On the Coronado bridge? You might remember helping my friend here?"

She motioned toward Logan and Logan held his breath as they waited for a reply.

"If there was an incident I would remember it," the man answered non-commitally.

"So," Veronica continued, "your route has to take you across the Coronado bridge."

"You got the wrong guy," the man said quickly, firmly.

'Of course he's gonna deny it. What did she expect? In fact, why is this so important now that I've already been cleared anyway?'

Regardless of his thoughts, when Veronica looked at him pointedly and asked, "This is the guy, right?" Logan responded immediately with, "Yeah, that's the guy."

The man turned defensive, almost defiant as he returned, "You know my schedule, huh? You know where I live? Forty-third and Euclid. I got PCHers riding up and down my street day and night. Now if I was on the bridge that night and if I saw what went down, guy like me, who's got a wife, and a five year-old daughter? Might think he's better off keeping his mouth shut."

Unable to stop himself, Logan responded angrily, "Covering your own ass has made the last seven months of my life hell."

With a cold, unrepentant look, the man stated, "That's one way of lookin' at it. And here's another: if it was me who stopped, chased off the bikers, and called 9-1-1? Then I guess I'd be the guy who saved your life."

Logan's retort was sarcastic and biting, "I was planning on sending a fruit basket from prison."

"A rich, white son of a movie star getting convicted in Neptune? I'd say your future's safe."

The expression on the man's face was smug and when he finished speaking, he hoisted himself into the cab of the truck, leaving Logan and Veronica staring after him.

"Come on, Logan," Veronica said after a moment, "Maybe I owe you at least some dessert after all."

"No thanks," Logan responded brusquely as he strode back to her car, "I'm not hungry anymore anyway."

Chapter 25

Lamb's makeshift, private gym was not exactly where Logan wanted to be while Woody Goodman 'worked out'. It seemed that, for some reason, Neptune's mayor was trying to impress him. Watching as the man tried to bench press an unreasonable amount of weight, Logan couldn't help but think that it wasn't working. It was uncomfortable and strangely intimate. Definitely not awe-inspiring.

'This isn't exactly what I expected from an internship at the mayor's office...'

Goodman looked up at him and asked with a smile that made Logan squirm, "Mind giving me a spot?"

Logan moved forward slightly to show that he was ready to grab the barbell should the need arise but he hoped like hell that it wouldn't.

Woody looked up at Logan and asked conversationally, "So, are you excited about the demolition ceremony?"

'He wants to make small talk? This is getting stranger and stranger all the time. What, did I wake up in the Twilight Zone this morning or something?'

Awkwardly, Logan answered, "Um, nervous, actually. Someone's gonna have to walk me through it step by step. Now, uh, push down, right?"

Trying to make the situation a little less embarrassing, Logan pretended to push a plunger down. Woody laughed and Logan wanted to groan and kick himself when he saw that his joke had caused the older man to struggle.

'Damn. I'm gonna have to rescue this asshole from himself, aren't I?'

Hoping it would be enough to prevent the need for him to intervene, Logan put his hands under the barbell and told Woody, "Get up."

Woody tried one last time to push the barbell up and away from him but was unsuccessful.

'Well shit. Fine. I guess this is why I'm here. Funny, pretty sure this is something I could have 'learned' without the internship, though.'

Logan easily lifted the weight and put the bar up where it belonged.

"Thank you," Woody said with a grateful smile that made Logan a bit uneasy.

'Why the hell are my spidey senses tingling so much here?'

The mayor got up and walked around the bench and barbell to stand next to Logan. The proximity made Logan extremely uncomfortable but he still couldn't pinpoint why.

"You know," Woody said, interrupting Logan's thoughts, "looking at you, reminds me of the good old days, when I was young and ripped."

What Goodman did next made Logan want to jump out of his skin but he forced himself to grit his teeth and stay still.

The mayor reached out and squeezed Logan's bicep as he said with admiration in his voice, "Betcha have some fun with the ladies, huh?"

Logan wanted to vomit. It took a moment before he was able to respond and even then, he didn't quite manage to sound unaffected.

"Uh, the ones that survive."

Woody laughed as if it were a joke and walked away.

'Goddamn, that was creepy as shit. I don't want to follow him. Can I quit this unpaid internship…?'

The only thing that made the rest of Logan's day worthwhile was using Woody's name stamp to 'steal' Lamb's parking space from him for the remainder of his internship. He smirked to himself in satisfaction as he turned in the paperwork.

'Serves him right. If I had my way, he'd have to suffer a hell of a lot more than this for all the bullshit he put me through this year.'

The end of the week brought the FBLA-sponsored Sadie Hawkins dance. Logan had been roped into helping at the ticket table. It was just his luck that he got stuck working with none other than the county supervisor's daughter, Gia Goodman.

'Fuck. She's just as weird and screwed up as her dad is. But at least he doesn't talk constantly like this chick does. Ugh. She's gonna give me a freaking headache...'

For just a moment, Logan got a reprieve from Gia's incessant chatter while she greeted the latest arrival to the dance.

"Hi, welcome to the Sadie Hawkins Spring Fling. Enjoy!" Gia said in the most chipper, perky, incredibly annoying and ditzy voice possible.

It grated on Logan's nerves more than anything he could think of as he watched her take the couple's money.

Sardonically, he added, "Don't worry, gang, if she's a two at ten, she'll be a ten at two," and handed them their tickets.

Unfortunately, once the couple had passed, Gia had the opportunity to try to make conversation with Logan again.

"This is cool, huh?" she said enthusiastically, "It would've been cooler to have, like, a date, but, actually, I'm kind of proud of myself that I came alone. It's kinda huge for me, don't you think? It's like I'm evolving."

Logan stared off into the distance, trying hard to ignore her. Thankfully, someone else came up to the table, turning Gia's attention to them rather than continuing to focus on him.

By the time Gia turned back toward him again, Logan had busied himself with counting the money in a desperate attempt to both keep himself sane and, he hoped, keep her from going back to her inane babbling.

No such luck, however.

"So," Gia began again, "my dad likes having you at work. He says you've got potential," she paused a moment before adding in what sounded like a puzzled or confused tone, "I think that was the word."

The thought of her dad nearly made Logan gag again.

'At least there's just the demolition tomorrow and then I can avoid him. Now, if I could just find a way to avoid his daughter right now…'

"Well," Logan responded caustically, " 'potential' was the word, but 'underachiever' is the sentiment."

"Ha ha," Gia answered, obviously oblivious to how much she was annoying her companion, "The demolition ceremony's gonna be fun. Are you nervous? What if you push the plunger and nothing happens?"

'Oh. My. God. SHUT UP. Shut up, shut up, shut UP.'

"You mean like if there were total silence?" Logan asked acerbically before adding as pointedly as he could possibly manage, "Let's try to imagine it."

'PLEASE. For the love of god. Prove that you know what the word SILENCE means.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan caught sight of Veronica taking pictures of the nearby dancing couples. He focused on watching her as she wound her way around the room, tuning out anything else that Gia might have been saying.

His attempts at distracting himself worked for a while. Unfortunately, when Gia began talking about friendship, the words filtered themselves into his consciousness and mixed with present and past images of himself and Veronica. All the things between them that had gone wrong. All the things he wished had gone right.

"For a friendship to work, you have to be completely honest, which is something I have absolutely no problem with," Gia was saying, "But you...you run from the truth."

She spoke as if she knew him. She didn't.

Logan's voice was both annoyed and distracted when he answered, "Only when it's chasing me."

'Usually in the form of a tiny blonde spitfire...passionately telling me why I'm wrong and she's right...'

Interrupting his thoughts yet again, Gia asked haughtily, "Do you know what I think?"

Trying desperately to keep his cool, Logan looked up at the ceiling, wishing the heavens could open up and swallow him whole.

Gia continued, oblivious to how close she was to receiving the tongue-lashing of a lifetime, "I think you use sarcasm and anger as a way to keep people from getting too close to you."

Barely controlled anger mixed with a maniacal glee reverberated through Logan's vocal chords as he responded tightly, "You know, I do. But it doesn't always work."

The next words from Gia's mouth brought Logan to his breaking point.

"Tell me what you think about me. Seriously. Be completely honest."

Logan prepared with a flourish to let loose a torrent of searing and scathing remarks that were sure to make Gia wither and cry but before he was able to get a single word out, a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed his arm and then his hand and before he knew what was happening, Veronica was leading him away.

It almost didn't register when he heard her say, "Dance with me."

She didn't stop moving until they were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people not paying attention to them and nowhere near Gia anymore. When she turned to face him, she couldn't meet his eyes and she looked like she wondered why she'd just rescued him like that.

Trying to break the strain between them, Logan said the first thing that came to mind. Of course, once it was out, he cringed inwardly as he realized he'd referenced the daydream he'd been having before Gia had so rudely interrupted his thoughts.

"When I dreamed of this moment, 'I've Had the Time of My Life' was always playing. Well, what can you do."

'Dammit. Stupid, Logan. Stupid. If she turns and runs, it'll be your own damn fault.'

She didn't run, though. She didn't look happy to be there. In fact, she looked downright uncomfortable. But she didn't run. Instead, she pulled his hand to her waist while he stood looking down at her, waiting for her cues on what was acceptable and what wasn't.

To his surprise, she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck and, in spite of the fact that she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there with him, they both began to sway together, slowly dancing to the music.

In spite of the awkwardness, a strange calm settled over Logan. There was nothing standing between them in that moment. No murder charges, no jackass-like behavior, no Duncan, no Kendall, no Hannah. Just them. Open. Vulnerable. An understanding between them because of all their shared experiences, shared losses, that would never exist for them with anyone else.

He began to gently spin her in a circle as they danced, the words of the song filtering into his consciousness.

You saved me I was almost dead

It was as if Veronica became aware of the lyrics at the same time he did. She looked up at him for the first time since pulling him away from the ticket table. His eyes caught hers and she looked away but then her gaze came right back to his as if drawn by a magnet.

His heart caught in his chest and as their eyes held, the intensity between them grew, the song becoming an unspoken soliloquy that he silently dedicated to her from the depths of his soul.

I don't wanna hurt you

'You know that, right?'

His eyes searched hers for the answer. Did she know that he'd never wanted to hurt her? Did she know that he'd do his damndest to never hurt her again if only she'd give him the chance?

I don't wanna make you sway

Like I know I've done before

'I've fucked up. A lot. And more than once I almost took you down with me. You were right to break up with me, you know. I get that now. Do you get that I get that?'

I will not do it anymore

'Or at least I'll try not to. If you'll just take me back.'

I've always been a dreamer

I've had my head among the clouds

He rested his forehead lightly against hers, their eyes so close that he almost felt obligated to close his, but he didn't want to. He wanted to bask in the feeling of everyone and everything else fading away as long as he could. Wistfully, he thought he could sense that she felt the same way. He sure as hell hoped she did anyway.

Now that I'm coming down

Won't you be my solid ground?

'Please? Being here with you like this, it feels right. It feels...like home. Does it feel like that for you, too?'

When the song ended, the spell between them was broken. Veronica took a shaky breath and Logan opened his mouth to speak but before a single word could form on his lips, she was gone.

She freed herself from his loose grasp and, even though he knew from the tremble he'd felt in her hands against his skin that she'd felt their world shift on its axis just as he had, he also knew that she wasn't ready to trust him again.

He'd have to work on that. Maybe, just maybe, he could win another chance with her yet.

Chapter 26

After the flurry of emotions he experienced at the dance, blowing up Shark Stadium was rather anti-climactic. Once it was over, Logan spent the rest of the weekend on pins and needles waiting for Monday morning.

Would Veronica be speaking to him? Would things be awkward between them? Would she pretend like nothing had happened?

How should he act? Should he bring it up or leave it alone? Should he be casual, act like it was nothing? Play it off as if it hadn't shaken him to his core?

He'd never before been so nervous about something involving a girl. But this wasn't just any girl. This was Veronica. The one girl he'd begun to believe he just might never get over.

That was the thought that was going through his mind as he flipped absently through a book while standing at his locker between classes on Monday. He hadn't seen Veronica yet and he'd begun to wonder if he would. Was she avoiding him?

Just as that thought hit him, he felt a knock against the back of his knee and he had to brace himself so he wouldn't lose his balance. Annoyed, he looked beyond the door of the locker and was pleasantly surprised to see Veronica standing there.

The nerves he'd experienced all weekend came rushing back to him. Suddenly his mind was blank and he couldn't think of anything to say.

Veronica slapped a hand to her forehead and spoke first, giving him a moment's reprieve.

"Yep, I have no idea what compelled me to do that."

She was being teasing and playful. Did that mean that she'd been just as impacted as he had at the dance?

He decided to play it cool and asked with just the slightest bit of snark and a tiny affectionate smile, "Is it because you're five?"

"I'm a little punchy," Veronica stated before admitting, "I haven't been sleeping."

'Seriously?! Is it possible? What are the chances that her sleeplessness could have anything to do with...me?'

Feeling hopeful, Logan decided to test the waters.

"Thoughts of me? Hey, I get it. Um, sometimes I'm up all night just thinking about myself."

She rolled her eyes in response and Logan wasn't quite sure whether to take that as a good sign or not.

But then she changed the subject and disappointment flooded him. She was there talking to him because she wanted to ask him about a case.

"Do you know a guy named Lucky?" she began before adding, "He's one of the night janitors here."

Puzzled, Logan's brow furrowed a bit and he clarified, "Tommy Dohanic? Yeah."

She next asked, "Why 'Lucky'?"

Going into helpful friend mode, Logan explained, "Well, he graduates. Then his parents file Chapter 11; he has to drop out of college. He signs up for Army Rangers. He gets sent to Iraq and four months in, he gets shot."

Veronica looked at him skeptically, "And...that makes him lucky?"

'Ok, bored with this. Hmm...I think I just found a way to make this interesting...and maybe remind her of what she's been missing at the same time. Two birds, one stone.'

"Hey," Logan defended, "they shot him in the butt. Could be worse," then he added with a smile as an afterthought, "You met him too, you know."

The blank look on Veronica's face told him that she had no idea what he was talking about. A crazy idea sprang to his mind and he inwardly grinned to himself while mentally rubbing his hands together. The idea quickly became a spontaneous plan to test how open Veronica might be to possibly going out with him again.

"Remember…?" he started, "Back seat of my XTerra, rear of the school parking lot. Pretty sure Breathe Me was playing on the radio. Your hands were under my shirt, running up my abs. I couldn't hold you close enough. Our lips were fused together, the sweet taste of your tongue in my mouth, tangled with mine, running along my teeth...then, and this is the best part of all, you totally took control, pushed me down onto the seat and -"

"Logan, is there a point to this story?" Veronica interrupted, obviously irritated and embarrassed.

'I'm getting to her!'

He gave himself an imaginary pat on the back and, hiding a smug smirk of satisfaction, he huffed almost playfully, as if he were taunting her, "Will you let me finish? Sheesh!"

Leaning his head back against his locker dreamily, he continued, "Now, where were we? Ah yes, you pushed me down against the back seat, straddling me, taking advantage of your position of power, when we heard a knock on the window. You turned to see who was there while I sat up. The guy standing there with Dick was Lucky. I talked to him, told him to take a hike, rolled the window back up, and tugged you back down to make out with me some more."

"Remind me," Veronica barked sharply, "Why did we break up?"

Logan nearly smiled. 'The more cutting her remarks, the more I'm affecting her. Interesting.'

Blandly, Logan replied, "Well, you thought the other guy had greener grass."

Curtly, Veronica nodded and started to walk away.

Before she was out of sight, Logan called after her, determined to get a reaction, "Mmm, or was it something about me being too much man? No, wait, it was you. You were too much man."

'Hmm, ok, maybe that was a bit too far...'

She never turned, never looked back. She was gone and he was no closer to figuring out how to convince her to date him again. He was going to have to think of something. But, he thought, he still had time. It wasn't like they were going anywhere anytime soon.

In physics that afternoon, Mr. Wu set them up with partners for what he referred to as his "Egg Drop Competition." The students had joked around a little too much and the teacher had decided not to allow them the choice of who to work with. Logan had been paired with Veronica's BFF, Wallace.

As far as Logan could remember, he'd only interacted with the low-key jock on one occasion: at the beach when he'd bashed Veronica's headlights in. The previous summer while he and Veronica had been dating, Wallace had gone to some out of town basketball camp and hadn't returned until just before school started. Logan wasn't even sure if Wallace was aware that he and Veronica had ever been a couple.

'Oops.'

Glancing over at Wallace, Logan noted that he looked less than enthusiastic at them having to work together.

'He's probably thinking about headlights being bashed in, too...ahh, the memories...I wonder if he's as much of an academic scholar as Veronica is.'

When Wallace took the seat beside Logan, Logan warily asked, "You're not gonna get all super-achiever on me, are you?"

In a tone that sounded fairly genial and completely honest, Wallace responded, "I'm just trying to avoid flunking. Hearst would yank my scholarship."

"Excellent," Logan mused, "The bar is so low, we can step over it."

A displeased scowl graced Wallace's face, a tip-off that maybe Logan needed to become more serious about the assignment. In a conciliatory gesture, he offered, "Hey man, why don't you come to my place around seven tonight. We can get a head start on this egg thing."

There was a change in Wallace's countenance at Logan's words. His face filled with surprise mixed with suspicion but slowly he nodded and said appreciatively, "All right, man. I'll see you then. You still at The Grand?"

'Hmm...so...Veronica talked about me.'

"Yeah. Presidential Suite. I'll order snacks so we can have some brain food for while we work," Logan added casually.

"Thanks, man," Wallace said with a nod, "I'll see you later."

After an hour and a half of working together that evening in Logan's sitting room, he and Wallace had finally figured out the dynamics needed to cushion the egg from cracking and utterly humiliating them.

Wallace dropped the box with the egg in it, and when he opened the box to check, he found that the egg was still unbroken. He held it out for Logan to see.

"Mazel Tov," Logan said dryly as he took the egg from Wallace, "Two passing grades, over easy."

'Now can you please leave before I say or do something regrettable and you go running back to Veronica to tattle?'

As if reading Logan's mind, Wallace said awkwardly, "I guess our work here is through."

'Yep, now shoo,' was Logan's thought but instead he simply said, "Mmm."

They stood and Logan was about to show Wallace to the door when a knock sounded.

"Ah, my buffalo burger has arrived."

While Wallace gathered his things to head out, Logan opened the door and allowed the room service attendant to enter. After handing the waiter a bill and watching him leave, Logan turned back to Wallace to see if he was ready to go. Instead, Wallace shook his head and spoke.

"Must be nice."

'Ah. He's judging me. That must be what he and Veronica have in common.'

"Oh, not for the buffalo." Logan dipped a finger in the barbecue sauce and licked it off before he glanced back at Wallace, saying clearly, "You don't like me much, do you?"

With a huff, Wallace answered, "The last time we actually talked, you were bashing Veronica's headlights with a crowbar."

'Ah. Loyal, too. Yeah...that sounds about right. Well, good for her.'

He pictured that day that seemed so long ago. Veronica spending the day one upping him. It took every bit of willpower not to grin as he thought of how she'd gotten the last word.

A fond smirk on his lips, he said rather wistfully, "Hmm. Foreplay."

'Let Wallace take that one back to his bestie. See how quick she chokes and scrambles to change the subject.'

The next day in class, just as Wallace and Logan were demonstrating their egg drop, a shriek was heard from Angie Dahl as she burst through the door holding a bunch of balloons.

"I'm in!" she squealed, "I got into Stanford!"

"All right!" Dick exclaimed in response, "You can be roomies with Veronica Mars." He grinned lasciviously and added, "There's a pillow-fight I'd like to see."

"Veronica Mars got into Stanford?" Angie asked, deflated and disbelieving.

Immediately, Wallace chimed in defensively, "Yeah. Veronica Mars. Stanford."

Haughtily, Angie said, "Well, I guess somebody has to do the football team."

Logan glanced at Wallace and saw how offended he was, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists at his side.

'Yeah, I'm with you there, buddy. Veronica worked her ass off to get into Stanford. Angie Dahl. What a bitch.'

As Angie moved back to her seat, Logan glared at her. When the bell finally rang, the bitch was looking so self-satisfied that he felt compelled to address her with a smart-assed remark.

"Congratulations. You've single-handedly fulfilled the Stanford bitch quota."

"Enjoy trade school, Logan," Angie scoffed as she sashayed past him with her balloons and out the door.

He followed her out into the hallway where Wallace was waiting for him.

"If you don't mind, I'm gonna keep working on the project."

'Anything to keep Angie from getting that extra credit Mr. Wu said he was offering.'

"Come by later," Logan offered, "I'm in."

Wallace stared at him as if he'd grown two heads.

Logan shrugged and made a ridiculous off-handed remark before waltzing off down the hall.

That night, Logan sat on the sofa and watched while Wallace paced the floor, talking at the speed of light. Logan stood finally, shaking his head, and removed the coffee cup from Wallace's hand. "Decelerate yourself," he said. "Four is officially your espresso limit."

Wallace stopped exactly where he was and turned to look at Logan curiously.

"So, I know why I'm trying to help out Veronica. I want her to get to go to Stanford. Why are you doing it?"

'Fuck. How do I even respond to that? To piss off Angie? To...what? Why DID I agree to do this? I could pretend it was just to piss off Angie, but...what really did it was the way she was talking about Veronica. That, I just couldn't take.'

As casually as he could, Logan sat back down and leaned against the cushions, saying, "I don't know, not for Veronica."

"Then what?" Wallace asked, apparently not ready give up on an answer quite that easily.

'Well shit. What else could I try? Umm...'

"Uh, the spirit of competition," Logan responded lamely.

Wallace just laughed and shook his head. "Yeah. All right."

Changing the subject before Wallace could ask any more questions, Logan said, "Why don't you chill while the glue dries? I gotta see a man about a horse."

After tossing Wallace the remote, Logan headed for the bathroom. When he returned, Tinseltown Diaries was playing.

The muscles in his jaw worked for a few moments as he tried to tamp down the anger and irritation the show always provoked. Finally Logan was able to say caustically, "They rerun it twice a day." Wallace glanced over at him as he added bitterly, "I hear it's their top-rated episode."

Wallace didn't say a word which left Logan free to disappear back into the bedroom again. He knew that eventually his classmate would show himself out so he could truly go back to wallowing in his misery alone.

For all their efforts, Logan and Wallace weren't able to pull off beating Angie Dahl at the extra credit egg drop the next day.

'Of course not. Even when I'm trying to be subtle in defending or helping Veronica or whatever the hell I was doing, I still can't get it right.'

Just as he was thinking that he should have tried harder, he turned a corner and ran right into Veronica.

She had her head down, earbuds in, and looked completely distracted.

"Ah," he teased, "Am I still keeping you up at night?'

When she didn't answer right away, he took a closer look at her and sobered up, concerned.

"You look like Steve Buscemi," he stated bluntly.

"You...are such...a catch," Veronica responded, obviously having difficulty figuring out a come back.

Her next words, though, caught Logan by surprise and what was even more alarming was how much they hurt.

"How has Hannah been able to keep away?"

Logan instantly shut down and deliberately locked his emotions away, glancing at his feet as he silently turned to walk away.

'Guess it's gonna be harder to get her back than I thought...if it happens at all. Why the hell am I bothering? Especially when she's that damn good at going for the jugular...'

The next day, though, Veronica was waiting for him in the parking lot when he arrived at school.

'Well, well, well. What is this? Feeling bad, huh? Okay, Logan, let's make sure she knows all is forgiven. A little teasing, a little flirting can go a long way. Test it out and see what happens.'

"As a rule I like to start every school day with a hot blonde waiting for me in the parking lot," he said with a slight smile as he approached her.

"Me too!" she responded, turning to join him.

'That went better than expected. She must have gotten some sleep. Keep it up, Logan. You're doing good.'

He ran a hand through his hair and acted as if she'd been talking about him. "I'm not blonde."

"Or hot," Veronica returned.

'Ouch. Well, at least the snark is back.'

"Got a question for you," Veronica began.

Logan rolled his eyes and thought to himself, 'Of course. What kind of random bit of annoyance will she come up with for a case this time?'

Without hesitation, she continued, "Remember back when you were doing the deed with Dick's step-mom?"

"Hmm, vaguely," Logan responded, adding pointedly, "I remember she thought I was hot."

"Were you with her on the day of the crash?" Veronica asked before adding, "You two talked on the phone a few times that day."

'Shit. This is NOT what I want her thinking about right now. Somehow, I'm pretty sure that picturing me with Kendall would be bad for my plans, possibly fatal.'

"Man, you're obsessed with my sex life," Logan said, trying to distract her and make light of the situation. "Do I need to start carrying around a webcam from now on?"

Veronica halted suddenly, saying in a warning tone, "Logan!"

'Hmm...not quite the reaction I was hoping for but not altogether unpleasant, either...better at least try to be helpful before I really piss her off.'

"Day of the crash, day of the crash...uh. I'd really have to consult my Feelings Journal to be sure."

'Fuck. Yeah...I was with Kendall. We almost got caught...Dick Jr. told me about the crash, Dick Sr. invited me to go shooting...shit.'

With the memory, all the emotions he'd gone through that day as he'd feared for Veronica's life came rushing back, forcing him to shove the details to the back of his mind where he could hopefully forget them again and not let her see how badly he'd been messed up by the prospect of losing her.

"Kendall stood to make millions by sending Dick and Beaver over that cliff," Veronica told him suddenly, "There was an insurance policy."

'Well damn. Have to help. That bitch. She wouldn't have any problem sending Dick and Beaver to their death. But still...'

"Kendall requires a domestic staff to make cereal," Logan scoffed, "You think she could really plot a murder?"

Instead of answering, Veronica asked, "Were you with her at 7:03pm?"

'Hmm...was I? Yes. Yes I was. That wasn't long before Dick, Beav, and their dad got home and I found out about the crash. Which means I'd be her alibi. Nope. Not gonna happen. She can answer for herself. I'm staying out of this. Now...how to distract Veronica from asking anything more about this...'

"No, actually," he said as convincingly as he could, adding the first skeevy detail he thought of, "she kicked me out before the sheets were dry."

'Dammit. That's not what I want her thinking about, but still...I had to say something to keep her from digging further...maybe a little bit of backtracking before I stick my foot further in my mouth...'

"But considering her husband's fondness for handguns and the fact that Dick and Beaver could come home at any minute, who could blame her? Anything else?" he asked promptly, scrambling to think of a way to salvage the conversation.

Veronica shook her head and Logan knew there would be no other opportunity to redirect their exchange back to the way it had started: with snark and flirtation.

"Oh. I, uh, I got to second base with Tammy Forrester in eighth grade in Duncan's closet," he deadpanned seemingly out of the blue.

His plan seemed to work as Veronica rolled her eyes, the edges of her mouth twitching as she walked past him to head toward the school.

'Time to remind her of what WE had.'

"And last summer, I made this townie girl moan without even using my hands," he called out after her with a smirk, "Is any of this relevant? Should I make a list?"

But she was gone and he could only hope that she was starting to soften towards him again.

Chapter 27

Magic Mountain. It wasn't exactly the senior trip to end all senior trips but Logan had found out that Wallace was planning to drag Veronica along so he was looking forward to it anyway. Once he'd heard that she would be there, it became his mission to convince Veronica to hang out with him at least for a little while, ride a few rides, play a few games, maybe share a slushie that would turn their tongues blue...

He, of course, had a contingency plan if Veronica wasn't open to the offer of his company. But getting wasted with the boys wouldn't be nearly as much fun as sitting tightly locked into a rollercoaster next to his favorite feisty blonde or making her jolt forward and shake with laughter as they rammed into each other in the bumper cars. The mental images alone made his heart race while large quantities of blood rushed to another region of his body.

Logan picked up Dick and a couple of others who'd all decided to drive together rather than ride the uncomfortable, odiferous school bus that all the non-09ers were stuck with as their transportation for the day. The only regret that Logan had about his choice was that he couldn't assess the situation with Veronica since he wasn't traveling with her.

As the rest of the kids piled off the bus, Logan leaned against the barred fence, scanning the crowd for Veronica while Dick prattled on endlessly.

"Dude, this is gonna be so great! Not as great as a fiesta on a yacht but then again, anything can be turned into a party if you've got the right ingredients on hand." As Dick said this, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and proudly flashed Logan a glimpse of his filled-to-the-brim flask. "Totally awesome, right?"

"Yeah, Dick," Logan responded distractedly as he caught sight of Veronica, "Best idea you've had yet."

Somehow, even from yards away, her eyes caught his and she gave him a small smile of acknowledgment. He was about to walk over to her when he noticed her companions and frowned.

There was Wallace, who noticed Logan's attention on his friend and gave him a nod. Then there was the geeky computer girl with the blue-streaked hair. Or was it pink this month? Logan couldn't remember and he didn't care. He only had eyes for Veronica.

With a nod to Wallace, Logan forced himself to look away and focus on Dick. He wasn't ready to make his move yet. Not while Veronica was surrounded by her friends. What he really wanted was to get her alone, even if it was only for a few minutes.

His stomach did a few flip flops and he found himself in need of his friend's liquid refreshment. Maybe he'd just hang back, follow her at a distance, share a few glances, toss back a few shots, and wait for the right moment to approach her.

The problem was, as the day moved forward, that moment never came. Logan could never find Veronica separated from her friends, or at least not long enough for him to get close to her. So he kept drinking and waiting, waiting and drinking, until finally it was Veronica who approached him.

"Having fun being my shadow for the day?" she asked with an eyebrow quirked in amusement as she approached.

"Mmm," Logan contemplated, blinking until she came into focus before he said with a big goofy grin, "Yep. Think maybe I should make a career of it."

Veronica laughed but then her eyes narrowed as she caught a whiff of the alcohol on his breath.

"You've been drinking," she stated bluntly.

"Gee, Sherlock, how could you tell?" Logan asked sarcastically.

"You reek of it, Logan," she accused with a frown. "Seriously, you never change, do you?"

Before he could reply, she turned on her heel and marched off.

'Well shit. That's not how that was supposed to go...Fuck it. Too late now. Might as well get totally wasted.'

By the time he and his friends rowdily returned to Logan's SUV, the administration was well-aware of their indulgence and were already calling for heads to roll.

Logan didn't care, though. He was too melancholy to give a damn what Clemmons and the school board decided. What were they going to do? Expel them? Tell them they couldn't graduate?

Clemmons's intercom announcement two weeks later came as no surprise to Logan. He'd been fortunate enough to overhear the conversation between the principal and the school board president the week before when they'd been narrowing their options for an appropriate punishment.

"Attention students. Due to a significant number of alcohol violations on the senior trip, this year's prom has been canceled."

The two weeks between Magic Mountain and Clemmons's declaration had been spent brainstorming what might be Logan's best chance to convince Veronica that he wasn't a lost cause. He wanted her to know that taking a risk on a relationship with him again would pay off this time and he'd decided that he was going to need some sort of grand gesture to make that happen.

To get ideas, Logan had been watching a lot of his mom's favorite classic melodramatic romances and listening to her favorite power ballads and country music CDs. Her original collection had, of course, been destroyed in the fire but he'd rebuilt the anthology in her memory.

The plan he had in mind began to formulate when he'd been in the office the week before getting a tardy slip yet again. He was standing there waiting for the secretary to come back and give him the form to fill out when he heard the annoyed sounds of a heated conversation coming from the principal's open doorway.

Mr. Clemmons had been outraged as he discussed with the school board president the drinking violations that had occurred during the senior trip to Magic Mountain. There were several possible consequences that they had batted back and forth while Logan listened.

Once Logan had completed the form explaining his tardiness, he fiddled with a few brochures that were on the desk, pretending to straighten them, pick them up, and read them, so that he could continue to listen to Clemmons's conversation.

His eavesdropping had paid off and he'd learned that the likely punishment would be for the senior prom to be canceled. Logan left the office with the ghost of a smile on his face, a calculated look of determination in his eyes.

Sometime after Clemmons's announcement, Logan was striding down the hall, sorting mentally through the list of things he needed to have in place before he spoke with Veronica and invited her to the big extravaganza he was planning. The one that would take the place of the canceled senior prom.

He was so distracted that he almost didn't hear the pointed, "ahem," from beside him as he walked. He looked over to see Veronica there, working hard to keep in step with him. She smiled up at him and said, "Hey, how's it goin'?"

Logan smirked knowingly and said sardonically, "Oh, this is gonna be good."

"What?" Veronica asked, feigning confusion and ignorance.

"Ah, you have that 'I'd rather be making out with a broken bottle' look. Which if history serves, means you're about to say something awkward," Logan predicted, trying to force himself to sound disdainful rather than affectionate.

"This?" Veronica asked innocently as she pointed to her face.

Logan gave a slight nod and raised his brows as he gazed expectantly down at her.

"This is my 'I'd rather be spelunking' look. It's like you don't know me at all," she teased.

'Oh, I know you. I know you better than you think I do. Better than you know yourself. What is it, Veronica? Why are you here teasing and flirting with me?'

"Right," Logan responded dismissively, "So let's have it." He reached his locker and began to open it as he waited for her to let him in on why she was there.

"So…" Veronica began, stalling and getting down to business at the same time, as if she were having a hard time figuring out how to broach the subject she needed to talk about, "you remember Duncan."

"Right," Logan acknowledged, studying Veronica's face for clues as to where the hell her question had come from, "Blue eyes?"

"Right," Veronica confirmed, stalling again.

'What the hell is going on? This isn't like her.'

"Yes," Logan said, still waiting for the punchline. This never happened. Not with Veronica.

He watched her as she took a deep breath and finally spit out, "You wouldn't happen to know if he was with...and by with I mean with, uhhh, someone other than Meg?"

'What the fuck?! She barely seemed to care when Duncan left. Now she's asking about his love life like I'd know something more than she does? I don't get you, Veronica. I really don't get you.'

To give himself a moment, Logan paused to gather the books he needed for his next class, then leaned against his open locker, looking down at her fondly.

"Well, there was this one girl," he said wistfully, "She was uh, blonde, petite…" he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before adding, "smelled of marshmallows and promises."

He had to try to remind her that Duncan was an ex who was gone, probably never to be seen again. If she was going to start showing interest in exes again, there was one standing right in front of her who remembered everything. Who adored her and would do just about anything to get her back.

"Promises?" Veronica's voice interrupted his thoughts. When he opened his eyes, there was a look of delight on her face.

He smiled with smug affection, "Yep."

"That's the name of my perfume!" she exclaimed in a tone that said she wasn't shocked but the look on her face said differently.

Logan's smile widened to an all out grin and they simply stood staring at each other, almost seeming to bask in the warmth of each other's presence for a few moments.

"You know," Logan said when he knew he couldn't get away with just standing there gawking at her anymore, "Generally speaking, I've kinda grown immune to your left field questions. But I'm gonna bite on this one. What do you care who Duncan did when Duncan did do dudettes?"

Veronica hesitated for half a second before saying, "Would you believe, it's for a college application. Weird, huh?"

He knew she was lying but there was no way he was gonna push her on it. Instead, his smile softened and he said seriously, "You and Meg, that's all I know about."

The only response he received from her was a thoughtful and embarrassed nod so he added, "Duncan didn't talk about his sex life much though."

There was no missing the look of both relief and disappointment on Veronica's face at his words.

He pressed forward, hoping to see her react to him again in some way, shape, or form. "But he'd blush and shower a lot. That's how you'd know he was getting some."

That was clearly as much as Veronica could stand because she finally cut off any further information he might have been willing to provide by saying, "Well, I'm going to miss these moments."

"You going somewhere?" Logan asked casually, wondering vaguely what kind of insane adventure she was about to embark on now.

"Oh!" She exclaimed and pointedly indicated the hallway around them, "You see this?"

"Mm-hmm," Logan responded, amused but not understanding what she was getting at so he waited expectantly for her to explain.

"Uh, this is high school," she said, "We're here for four years and then we move on. And all these people you see every day vanish from your life and you never have to think about them again."

'Oh shit. How did I not even think about that? Of course she's gonna want to leave. Who the hell would stay in Neptune willingly? Goddamn! That means if my plan doesn't work, I may never get another chance. Hell, I may never see her again...'

He rummaged in his locker aimlessly to give himself something to do so that she wouldn't see the near panic her words created. He took a few calming breaths before closing the locker.

Holding his books against his chest, he looked down at her intently and said, "So, we should savor our remaining moments."

'Come on, Logan. Say it. SAY IT. You put this whole damn thing together for HER! What good is it going to do if you can't even manage to get her to show up?'

As casually as he could, he said, "You should come to alterna-prom."

She responded with a skeptical look and said, "I don't know what that is."

'Here's your chance. Do it, Logan. DO IT!'

Immediately, Logan whipped out an invitation and handed it to Veronica. He watched her as she read the words and waited for her response.

"Wow," she said dryly when she finished reading and looked up at him, "You and your drunk 09er buddies got the prom cancelled, and then use your inherited wealth to throw a private prom."

The corners of Logan's mouth twitched upward into an amused smile, "When you say it like that it sounds unjust."

"How does it sound when you say it?" Veronica asked, somewhat perturbed.

"Mmm," Logan smiled, "Glamorous."

'And romantic...very, very romantic.'

Veronica pursed her lips and looked skeptical but didn't say a word.

"So...are you coming?" Logan prompted, trying not to sound too hopeful.

A frown pulled the corners of Veronica's lips downward and she pointed at the expression.

"What…" Logan asked in a disappointed, self-deprecating manner, "You'd rather be spelunking?"

"No!" Veronica responded, "I'd rather be…"

She waited a beat to see if Logan wanted to give it another try but he shrugged, shook his head, and remained silent.

"Strapped down on an ant hill!" she concluded.

Resigned, Logan said simply, "Yeah…"

But then Veronica surprised him and said, "Man, you've really lost it. I was going to console Jackie and Wallace that night. You got their prom cancelled, remember?"

Seeing what might be his last opportunity to convince her to show up, Logan said easily, "Well bring them along. Bring whoever. You know, we with our inherited wealth don't mind...as long as you bathe and keep your hands off the silver."

He'd added the last line because he was suddenly concerned that he sounded too eager. He was incredibly relieved when he saw the thoughtful look on Veronica's face and heard her response.

"I'll consider it."

Her words gave him hope. All he could manage in response was a whispered, "Good," before she turned to go, leaving him to watch her walk away.

Chapter 28

The time for Alterna-Prom was drawing near and Logan was getting nervous about whether or not Veronica would show up. He'd been thinking non-stop about what he wanted to say to her, how he wanted to use this opportunity, since it might be his last.

She needed to know he was sorry, that he understood now why she'd broken up with him. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, plead for another chance, let her know he'd never gotten over her. And most important of all, that he never would.

He'd been listening to all the achey breaky country music he could find; reading Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Anna Karenina; and had not left out the golden-era romantic films like Casablanca, Sabrina, and any other classic Humphrey Bogart film he could get his hands on.

After all the preparation he'd done, if he wasn't ready to plead his case with Veronica when the moment presented itself, he never would be.

Over the past couple of weeks there had been speeches made to himself in the mirror, scripting mental notes for himself in the shower on the main points he wanted to hit when talking to her, scribbles written on the backs of envelopes or inside flaps of notebooks whenever a phrase of pure gold struck him at any point throughout the day. Nothing he came up with sounded quite right to him, though. He didn't want anything he said to come across as rehearsed or insincere.

As he walked down the halls of Neptune High with Dick Casablancas just a couple of days before the planned festivities, Logan realized that in the end, he was going to have to wing it.

'There's no fucking way I'll be able to get through that night sober. Liquid courage will definitely be the main course on that evening's menu.'

In an attempt to distract himself, he turned to Dick and asked casually, "Who you taking to the Alterna-Prom?"

"Well," Dick responded, completely clueless as usual to the turmoil stirring inside his best friend, "I considered a lot of chicks, but finally figured I'd just go stag. I mean, it's not the prom: it's the Alterna-Prom. Why narrow my options?"

Logan glanced at Dick skeptically out of the corner of his eye before saying, "You were shot down, huh?"

"It's like a conspiracy," Dick exclaimed, sounding baffled and disappointed at the same time.

With a sympathetic smirk, Logan said, "It's a good thing we're graduating. Sounds like you've hit that point where every girl in school knows you."

Dick pumped his fist in the air and proclaimed, "Bring on the sorority girls!"

Just then, a group of non-09ers passed by and one - Corny, maybe? - turned excitedly to Dick and Logan, saying, "Dude! You need me to bring anything to the big bash? 'Cause if it's one thing I know how to do right, it's potluck."

Dick and Logan exchanged a look before Dick asked cautiously, "Uh, which bash is that?"

"Alterna-Prom?" the stoner said, as if it were obvious, "I may these killer brownies. The secret: it's all in the butter."

Logan's brows rose as he again looked over at Dick, this time distinct displeasure was clouding his features.

'There's only one person who could have invited a loser like that. Is this payback from Veronica for something I don't remember doing?'

When Logan entered study hall later, Mr. Wu was dressing down Veronica for something or other and looked up to chastise Logan next.

"Mr. Echolls, so glad you could join us. Late."

As Mr. Wu walked off, Logan slumped down into the desk next to Veronica and grumbled, "And that is what happens when you never get laid."

Veronica was apparently not in the mood to be sympathetic because her response was snarky and put Logan in an even worse mood than before.

"Well why don't you invite him to your bitchin' party?"

Logan turned in his seat and narrowed his eyes at her, his words were deceptively casual, "Hey, speaking of my bitchin' party, a funny thing happened. That stoner dude Corny, whom I don't recall inviting, offered to bring dessert."

When Veronica paused what she was doing to look over at him with a grin, Logan knew for sure that the stoner's invitation had come from her.

With a scowl on his face, he asked, "Exactly how many losers are now coming to my party?"

Veronica's response was breezy and unrepentant. "You said invite whoever."

'Shit. Come on, Veronica. You can't tell me you actually thought I meant it.'

His thoughts turned into words when he spoke almost exactly what was on his mind. "Didn't it occur to you that I might not have meant it?"

She didn't respond so he changed the subject to something less likely to frustrate him but then promptly turned the conversation back to the dance.

"Hey, so if you're inviting the riffraff, does that at least mean that you're planning to show up?"

Her patented head tilt came into play as she said noncommittally, "It might."

He opened his mouth to try to persuade her but she stopped him before he could, now more serious than she'd been before.

"I'm waiting to hear from Mac but Wallace and Jackie are definitely in. If Mac does the favor I'm asking of her, she'll be there, too. If she's there, I'll be there."

Relief washed through him that he wasn't able to hide. For the first time since that morning, a bright and hopeful smile lit his features.

"Ok then. I'll mark you down as a definite maybe," he said more confidently than he felt, "Any chance you'd save a dance for me?"

"Wouldn't your bevy of vixens be jealous, though?" Veronica asked with a sly gleam in her eyes.

With a dismissive wave, Logan said, "It'll be good for them."

His words made Veronica laugh and she shook her head, a look on her face that he could only interpret as tolerant affection. Her next words, though, made the hope in his heart soar.

"Maybe. We'll have to see how the night goes."

'YES! Progress! Now to make sure everything goes as planned...'

Saturday, the day of the Alterna-Prom, Logan woke up earlier than usual. He had a lot to do to make sure that everything was in place for that night. There was the caterer to call, his source for alcohol to connect with, the DJ to check in with and get set up when he arrived...and that wasn't even beginning to think about his own attire that needed to be taken care of.

He'd decided to go with a Bogey-like tux and a Rick's feel. A classy theme to set both the mood and the scene for an important chat with a classy girl.

By the time he had everything in place, had gotten himself ready, and had let the DJ and caterers in to set up, there was less than half an hour before his first guests were set to arrive.

'Will Veronica be one of the first to make an appearance or the last? Or will she decide not to bother coming at all?'

His stomach did a little flip that made him queasy. He knew it was from nerves and impulsively made his way to the stash of booze he'd set aside just for himself. He was the host, after all. He shouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd run out of liquid courage before he developed the backbone to actually bare his soul to the girl of his dreams.

A bottle of Jack was waiting for him on his bedside table. He opened it, took a swig, then another, and finally a third before closing it and putting it away again. He'd be back for it again later. Of that he was sure.

The first guests to appear were 09ers that Logan barely associated with and nobodies who'd been invited by a friend of a friend of a friend who had, most likely, originally been invited by Veronica. But the blonde beauty herself was nowhere to be seen.

'Fuck. Please tell me I didn't do all this for nothing. PLEASE tell me I didn't do all this for nothing.'

Moments later, Dick and Madison arrived. They'd apparently ridden up in the elevator together, but from the looks of the pink pig with large plastic tube coming out of it that Dick was carrying, he guessed that they hadn't exactly come together.

Gliding toward them, he put on his perfect host manners and pasted on a smile.

"Hey, welcome!" He said as he took Dick's hand and shook it, "So tonight, there is only one thing I ask of you." He paused for emphasis, "Make senior memories."

Dick pointed to the monstrosity on his shoulder and said, "Uh, that's why I brought the party pig."

Madison rolled her eyes and moved off with a look of disgust on her face. Dick didn't seem at all bothered and as Logan followed his friend's gaze, he saw why.

Halfway across the room already, Dick had stopped by an apparently unattached girl and was attempting to hit on her.

Logan grinned when he heard Dick's booming voice over the crowd.

"Better watch yourself, Danielle. Here comes me and my hog. Soooo-ey!"

Logan had no desire to see how the rest of that scene played out so he chanced a glance back toward the door again and glimpsed Wallace entering with his date. His breath caught in his chest as his eyes moved past them to see if he could catch a glimpse of the one person he was hoping to find there.

He managed to see Veronica's friend, Mac, with a kid he thought he recognized as Clemmons's son before Wallace was standing in front of him and he had to tear his attention away from the doorway.

"Yo, man," Wallace said with a huge grin, his arm around a spectacularly dressed Jackie Cook.

'Well, good for them.'

Aloud, he said, "Hey, how's it going?"

"All right," Wallace said, still grinning from ear to ear.

Behind them, Logan heard Mac say something about needing a drink and he saw her date breeze past to follow her, dressed like he was the reincarnation of Al Capone.

Before he could figure out what had just happened, an exquisitely dressed Veronica stood like a vision before him and every thought fled his mind.

His mouth went dry and he was unable to form words as he stood there gawking at her with what had to have been the goofiest grin imaginable.

"Mac just had dinner on a pirate ship," Veronica said with a twinkle in her eyes and an amused smile on her face.

And then she was gone, passing him so that he was only able to follow her form with his eyes, an appreciative whistle and a low chuckle finally making their way past his lips.

'Goddamn. It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than a couple swigs of Jack and a few glasses of bubbly to get this silver tongue functional tonight.'

Overall, Logan spent the next several hours alternating between his friends, Jack and Jose, and following Veronica with his eyes. He watched her as she interacted with her friends. As she laughed and danced, ate and drank, joked and teased. She was beautiful, amazing, spectacular. And the more he saw her, the less capable he felt of actually talking to her, telling her all the things he wanted to say.

The copious amounts of alcohol were only getting him so far. He needed some sign, some twist of fate to push them together, to finally give him the shove he was going to require to tell her how lost he was without her. To tell her how much he missed her, how much he needed her, how the only time that anything felt right in his world was when he was with her. And how sorry he was. How stupid he'd been. How the thought of losing her forever scared him shitless.

'I'm never gonna get this right,' he thought hopelessly, discarding his jacket on his bed, loosening his bowtie, and undoing the top couple buttons of his dress shirt.

Reaching in the mini fridge, he grabbed a full bottle of champagne, popping it open before he left his bedroom again .

He could see in the mirror that his eyes were bloodshot as he made his way back to the party. He found that it was getting difficult to keep himself upright and steady so he sat on the edge of what he thought had been a serving table at some point in the evening. He lifted the bottle in his hand to his lips and tipped it upward, feeling like a complete failure.

Just as Logan was about to take another drink, he heard a voice call out a name that caught his attention immediately.

"So, Mars, I'm leaving it to you to represent the lower middle class at the Neptune Alterna-Prom."

Veronica's protesting voice followed from somewhere closer still.

"You can't just leave me here!"

Logan found himself utterly entranced by the enchanting beauty who had been the object of his thoughts all night and was now so close to him that he could practically reach out and touch her.

'Maybe this is the sign I've been waiting for...'

He had no idea what else was said by Veronica's friends or when they actually made their exit. All he knew was that she'd backed up to lean against the wall and if he was ever going to take the plunge and declare himself, there would never be a better time.

Carefully, so that he wouldn't stagger or sway, he met her where she stood and hoped to god he wouldn't slur.

"Alone again," he stated, the first thing that came to his whiskey and tequila soaked brain.

"Naturally," Veronica said, sounding as if she thought it were something that was inevitable.

Logan turned to lean against the wall, bottle of alcohol still in hand, and he gazed at her as she looked out over the crowd.

"I, uh, I know the feeling," he said.

"You?" Veronica questioned doubtfully, "Host of the greatest private replacement prom ever?"

With a self-deprecating smile, Logan lifted the alcohol to his lips again and took a swig before dragging his other hand through his already mussed-up hair.

"I'm sure you could have your pick of the bimbos," she said.

Logan's heart ached as he watched her start to bob her head to the music.

'Bimbos? Do you really think that's what I want?'

Obviously oblivious to everything Logan desperately wanted to say, Veronica smiled softly, almost dreamily, took a seat on the edge of the table where he'd previously been sitting and said, "I really like this song."

Taking a deep breath, Logan looked around at anything but her to gain the courage he needed to do what he knew he had to do. Then he straddled the table next to her and said, "You know, I'm surprised, Veronica. As a keep observer of the human condition, I thought you saw through people better than that."

Veronica turned and looked at him questioningly.

A lightning bolt of nerves shot through Logan when her eyes caught his and he knew that she was listening, that whatever he had to say, the time was now or never.

He forced himself to take a couple of slow breaths before he said, "Bimbos? That's not me anymore."

"So what are you like now?" Veronica asked and it was clear to him that she was humoring him and didn't really believe what he'd said.

'Shit. What do I have to do, what do I have to say to make this real to you? To make you understand that you're the only one for me?'

Since she had sounded so dismissive, so disbelieving and blase, he found it easiest to be casually dramatic.

"You know," he said, "Tortured. Ever since I had my heart broken."

Veronica studied him carefully for a moment, then said, "Hannah really did do a number on you, huh?"

He stared at her as he felt forlorn tears forming in the corners of his eyes and he scoffed, "Come on, you know I'm not talking about Hannah."

The startled look on her face told him that he'd finally gotten through to her. That she finally understood that he was talking about her.

When she didn't say anything, words started spilling out of him. Not the words he'd intended to say, but the only ones that came to mind.

"I thought our story was epic, you know? You and me."

"Epic how?" she asked, sounding almost breathless.

Logan took another swig from the bottle before he continued, scenes of all the classic films he'd watched running through his mind as he pictured himself and Veronica among those timeless romances.

"Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined. Blood shed. Epic."

He paused, watching her intently. She wasn't moving. It was almost as if she weren't even breathing.

Her words echoed in his mind.

'This is high school. We're here for four years. We move on. All these people vanish from your life. You never have to think about them again.'

Hell, he could hardly breathe, either.

'Think it's time we talk about that.'

He steadied himself the best he could, then said, "But summer's almost here. And we won't see each other at all. Then you'll leave town. Then...it's over."

"Logan…" Veronica began but once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, "About last summer." As he spoke, he fought back tears and scooted closer to her. "You know, if I could do it over…"

"Come on," Veronica cut in when he was unable to continue, "Ruined lives, blood shed? You really think a relationship should be that hard?"

All those country songs he'd been listening to wove their way through his head, and he choked out with a small, ironic smile, "They don't write songs about the ones that come easy."

It was apparent that Veronica had no comeback to that so Logan took his chances and scooted closer still, his eyes never leaving hers.

Finally, she looked away and cleared her throat as if it were now her turn to build up courage before facing him again. When she looked back at him, he could see how vulnerable and uncertain she was and all he wanted to do was kiss away her doubts.

He leaned in, gave her time to stop him if she wanted to, then reached out to gently stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

Veronica shivered beneath his touch, took a shaky breath, and bravely met his gaze.

Slowly he leaned in, closer and closer, and listened to the girl who held his heart struggle to breathe. But just as he was about to kiss her, she pulled away.

"In a strangled voice she said, "I-I have to go." She hopped off the table, and without a moment's hesitation, Veronica fled, leaving Logan and the rest of the party behind.

In silent disappointment, Logan watched her go. He lifted the bottle to his lips again and kept it tipped upward until its contents were drained.

Chapter 29

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

Logan groaned, wincing at the sound. His head was pounding like a jackhammer. Whoever was making that godawful noise was making it a billion times worse. Either that person was going to face his wrath or the racket was going to killl him before he got the chance.

He covered his ears before trying to shout, "Shut the fuck up!" but all that came out was a pitiful moan.

His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton and cobwebs. His eyes refused to open more than halfway and what he could see was blurred beyond recognition.

'What the fuck happened last night?'

Before he could even begin to sort anything out in his muddled mind, the knock sounded again.

"Give me a fucking minute," he grumbled under his breath, closing his eyes to try to orient himself so he wouldn't fall on his face when he stood on his feet.

Slowly, he shoved himself up off the bed, gave himself a moment to regain his balance, rubbed his eyes and dragged himself to the door.

As soon as it opened the tiniest crack, someone forced it inward and said with impatient disgust, "It's about damn time."

Without him realizing it, the person at the door had pushed her way inside his suite.

'Great way to start the day. Unwanted company and the hangover from hell.'

"Logan," said an all-too-familiar voice.

His already sour stomach turned and in that moment he desperately wanted to retch on his visitor's stylish stilettos.

But then she was speaking again.

"You look like stir-fried dog shit."

"Thanks," he managed gruffly. He rubbed his eyes and turned toward her general direction. "What do you want, Kendall."

"I have some business to discuss with you," came the clipped, haughty response.

"Go away," Logan rasped, feeling around for the couch until he was finally able to collapse onto it.

"Can't," Kendall said brusquely, putting her purse down beside the overstuffed chair before taking a seat. "Your father sent me. Seems that you've been a bad, bad boy."

"Fuck off, Kendall," Logan said, his voice stronger, harsher this time. His head hurt badly enough without throwing another headache into the mix.

"Gladly," Kendall agreed, pausing dramatically before adding, "As soon as you agree not to testify against your father."

Logan huffed a disbelieving laugh and winced again. "Not a chance. Hell would have to freeze over first. Pigs would have to fly. And the ugliest fat lady alive would have to sing me an aria."

Kendall rose and came toward him, running a finger along his bare shoulder and down his arm, chuckling seductively when he swatted it away.

"Logan, Logan, Logan. You know your father will never be convicted, right? Your testimony won't help a damn bit. It's just going to make you look like a fool. Put you in the spotlight. And I know that's the last thing you want."

Hands clenched into fists on his thighs, Logan responded through gritted teeth, "You don't have a fucking clue what I want. And if my testimony isn't going to help the prosecution, there's no reason for you to be here."

The whole time they'd been talking, Logan had kept his eyes closed. If he tried to open them, he couldn't concentrate on what was being said. And if he was talking, his eyes refused to open.

He tuned Kendall out and rubbed his eyes, trying to remember anything at all about how he'd gotten like this. He had just vaguely remembered some kind of party when another knock sounded at the door, this one more tentative than the last.

Logan forced his eyes halfway open and as he stood, he reached out and pinched Kendalls lips shut.

"Stop talking," he ordered. "I'll deal with you when I get back."

Kendall rolled her eyes and shrugged. When he let go of her lips and headed toward the door, she said saucily, "Fine. I'll just use your restroom, freshen up a little, while you're gone."

Her words were ignored. Logan was just barely starting to feel even the tiniest bit coherent when he opened the door and his mind went immediately blank again.

'What the hell is Veronica doing here? And...that look on her face. Why is she looking at me like that? What made her look at me like that?'

Groggily, as if he wasn't sure whether this was really happening or if he was dreaming, he lifted his hand and massaged his head, trying to work out the kinks in his logic and brush aside the cobwebs covering the recesses of his mind.

It took several moments but finally, as he continued to stare at her, he was able to say, "Hello."

Without warning, Veronica launched into a heartrending soliloquy, her eyes clear and vulnerable, her voice raw with emotion, and Logan tried desperately to figure out what had brought this on.

"First, let me say that I'm sorry for running out last night like I did," she said.

'Running out…?' He had a single moment of clarity as he remembered that the party he'd been at had been one he'd thrown. In his suite. And it hadn't been just any party. It had been the Alterna-Prom. 'Fuck...'

"I was a bit overwhelmed. I needed to collect my thoughts, think about what you said."

'Holy shit! What the fuck did I say? Did I actually tell her everything…?' He racked his brain but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember even having a conversation with her, let alone telling her how sorry he was, how much he missed her, how much he wanted her back…

"Veronica…" he started. He didn't know what to say. How to say it. He needed to apologize, tell her that he didn't remember a damn thing she was talking about. He needed to start over, try again, get it out, do it right this time. 'Goddamn. I swear I will never get this drunk again if somehow, some way, I can turn this around and make it right.'

"Look," Veronica stopped him, "let me get this out. I don't want to lose you from my life, either. And I'm not saying I'm ready to dive back into anything, but after graduation, let's make it a point to see each other. See where that takes us."

'Wait, what? She doesn't want to lose me? What the FUCK did I say?'

His heart soared and he held his breath, scrambling to catch up, to process what she was saying, to make sense of anything in that moment.

"I remember what you said about our relationship being epic," Veronica continued and then stopped abruptly, her eyes widening. He could literally see her coming to the realization that he had no idea what she was talking about. "...Oh god," she gasped.

"Last night was kind of a blur…" Logan admitted softly.

Suddenly, a voice came from inside the suite.

"Is that our room service?" it purred.

Every bit of the hope that had begun to take root in Logan's heart vanished immediately. He'd forgotten about Kendall.

A moment later, Logan felt Kendall approach the doorway from behind and to the side of him. She was far too close for comfort but he gripped the door frame and refused to acknowledge her, even when she ran her hand over his bare abdomen.

"No," she said with feigned frustration, "Just Veronica Mars. What a disappointment." Then in the most condescending yet nurturing tone Logan had ever heard, she added, "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Bye, Veronica."

Kendall disappeared back into the suite, leaving Logan to deal with the aftermath of her words and her actions.

He swallowed hard and began in earnest, "Look, whatever I said, I…"

But it was too late. Veronica was shaking her head, tears gathering in her eyes even as she forced a tortured smile that would haunt him for the rest of his days. She shook her head and started to walk away.

There was no way he could leave things the way they were with her. He had to do something. Say something. Anything to try to make it better.

"You should know - " he tried again as he stepped into the hallway after he.

But she cut him off sternly.

"Stop."

And he did.

The last thing he saw was her quivering chin, her liquid blue eyes shimmering with tears, the broken - absolutely crushed - look on her face, and her shaking her head sadly as the elevator door closed and took her from his sight.

'I've lost her.'

He stared after her, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. Nothing would ever be right in his world again.

She'd been right there. Moments from giving him another chance. About to admit that she still cared, that she wasn't ruling out the possibility of going out with him at some point again.

And now it was all gone. What was almost certainly his last opportunity to show her he was no longer the self-destructive asshole that she'd broken up with and he'd blown it.

A harsh voice sounded from behind him. "She's not coming back, Logan. You might as well come inside now."

Logan spun around and lashed out, completely sober after all that had happened.

"YOU," he ground out, pointing his index finger at her in accusation, "YOU did this. YOU are the reason that she left. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He stopped just outside the doorway as he realized that she was standing there in his bathrobe. "What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?!" he roared.

"What?" she asked smugly, "I spilled my drink."

"You didn't have a drink," Logan growled.

"Wait," Kendall said, lifting her hand to her mouth, feigning a look of surprise, "You don't think Veronica got the wrong idea, do you?"

"OUT," Logan shouted, "I want you out NOW."

"Please," Kendall said with a roll of her eyes, "Like I want to stay." She shrugged out of the robe, revealing that she was actually still dressed underneath, tossed him the terry-cloth garment, slipped back into her heels and said confidentially, "Little Veronica there needs to buck up and realize that things are never as they seem. I mean, you and me sleeping together, that's sooo last season."

She started to walk away but Logan grabbed her by the arm and whirled her around again, telling her harshly, "If I ever see you here again, I'll call the manager and have him toss you out on your ass."

There was disdain in the unaffected look she gave him. "Please. My work here is done." She playfully tweaked his nose, smiling at him cruelly, "I'll just be on my way now. Toodles!"

Her hips swayed tauntingly as she took her leave of him. When she reached the elevator, she pressed the down button, somehow managing to look smug and victorious without so much as a side-glance in Logan's direction.

For his part, Logan stood stock-still right where he was, his hands clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. And he refused to move until he was absolutely certain that the wicked step-monster was gone for good.

The ding of the elevator sounded and Logan watched as Kendall stepped forward, only turning once she was in the center of the car where she could lean forward and touch the button that would close the doors and hopefully take her out of his life forever.

Just as the doors started to close, she smirked and caught Logan's eye, almost as if she wanted him to know that she was still toying with him. She lifted her fingers and waved them at him provocatively, and then she was gone. Her image was erased by the memory of the earlier one that still haunted him. The one that she was largely responsible for. The image that would forever break his heart.

It struck him then.

'Veronica is gone forever.'

The thought weighed on him so heavily that he reached for the wall, stumbled back into his suite, slammed the door closed, sliding down it to the floor. Burying his head in his hands, he let loose a strangled sob. There would be no more chances now.

Chapter 30

It had been a week. A week of forced smiles and rushed greetings followed by immediate retreats. Logan didn't know how long he could handle the unsettled awkwardness between himself and Veronica. If it weren't so gut-wrenching for him to think of the finality of graduation, it would almost be a relief.

After the way that Veronica had found him the morning after Alterna-Prom, Logan felt he had no right to even try to explain himself to her. She'd seen what she'd seen and there was no way for him to change that. No way for him to make it better, do it over, get it right.

Logan had blown his chance at happiness. Now he had to just suck it up and deal with it.

The only time he'd really allowed himself to wallow, to contemplate all the things that had gone wrong over the last year, to regret the fact that he'd clearly lost Veronica for good, was when they'd both been in attendance at various points throughout his father's ongoing murder trial. Which is why he was shocked when Veronica approached him as he was standing by his locker, paging through a textbook, and spoke to him about that one link they'd had over the previous seven days.

"Been to any good murder trials lately?" she quipped, surprising him with both her approach and the subject matter.

Warily, he slapped the book closed and shoved it in his locker before he answered.

"Uh, I have," he said cautiously, then took the opportunity to compliment her, "You give good testimony, by the way."

Veronica struck a pose, making light of the matter.

Logan didn't want to let it go quite so easily. He searched her face, studied her closely, trying to gauge whether she was ok, whether this was the reason she'd asked him about Duncan and his sexual history. He wasn't sure. Finally, he gave up trying to figure it out and instead said sincerely, "It's gripping."

With her usual abrupt change of subject, Veronica said, "I want to ask you about something."

Unable to help himself, Logan responded with affection and irony in his tone, "How unlike you. You never come to me out of the blue with some random question."

Ignoring his wiseass remark, Veronica asked, "Did Lucky ever tell you anything about Woody Goodman or the time he spent as a batboy for the Sharks?"

'What the - ? Lucky? Woody? The Sharks? Why the hell is she asking about?'

"No," Logan answered, puzzled but willing to cooperate if it meant he got to talk to her longer, "he never mentioned the Sharks." A sudden thought occurred to him and he continued helpfully, "But there was this weird semi-baseball-related thing that happened last summer."

From Veronica's narrowed gaze and look of expectation, Logan knew that she was waiting for him to continue.

"I walked in on him in the janitor's closet. Wanted to see if he could get a keg for a beach party. Anyway, he was standing in the mop basin, a catcher's mask on, bleaching his feet. Said he thought he had gangrene, that someone was doing something to him or he was poisoning himself."

"He was wearing a catcher's mask?" Veronica asked, surprised, "Really?"

'Of course she'd focus on that. What the hell does any of this have to do with...well...anything? God, sometimes I wish I could get a play-by-play of her mind actually works...'

"And I thought the weird part was the foot bleaching," Logan responded sardonically. "You know," he added, "he'd wear the catcher's mask a lot. Whenever we were going into battle. I thought it was an affectation."

Logan waited a beat, two, maybe even three. When Veronica said nothing more, a heavy disappointment settled in his chest.

'She only came to talk to me because she needed information.'

He slammed his locker shut and stalked away. He couldn't keep standing there, looking at her, talking with her, and know that they'd never be together, that she'd never be his. It was just too painful for him to bear.

The next time he saw Veronica was in the courtroom, but this time it was for his own testimony. He'd known she wouldn't be able to stay away and he'd known that it would hurt to see her there. But he couldn't think about that now. He had to be calm. Focused. There was enough against him, against the truth of what he planned to say. He didn't need to be distracted by the hopelessness of his current love life.

When he was called by the prosecution, he smoothed his suit jacket and buttoned it as he stood, and made his way to the witness stand.

The questions from the prosecutor were inane and procedural. Logan knew that it would be his father's lawyer, or bevy of lawyers really, who would make things difficult.

There was a ruthless glint in the defense attorney's pointed stare as he approached Logan and spoke clearly, "Mr. Echolls, you claimed you destroyed the tapes. You are aware that's a felony?"

Logan answered simply, "Yes."

Then came the question that Logan immediately knew would be his downfall. There was no way that the jury would take into consideration a single thing he'd said after he answered.

"Were you granted immunity in exchange for your testimony?" the smug lawyer asked.

'Fuck. Well, I knew this was a possibility when I erased those tapes. Whatever. Even if dad walks, I'm still free of him. Not to mention I'm under oath. Guess I'd better tell the truth then.'

"Yes I was," Logan responded, speaking directly into the microphone even as he tried to bore a hole through Aaron's skull with his defiant glare.

He barely heard when the attorney said, "Thank you. No further questions, your Honor."

'That's it. It's over. There's no way the jury is going to see past dear ole dad's fame and fortune now. After what happened with Veronica's testimony, Mr. Mars's testimony, and this, it's more likely that pigs will fly, hell will freeze over, and Veronica will forgive me than that dad will be convicted. Shit.'

The jury deliberated and came to a verdict during finals the following week. Logan didn't bother to skip his final to go in person to hear what they had to say. He already knew what the result would be.

Sure enough, by the time Logan was out of school and was standing at the front desk of the Grand to check his mail, he heard the all too familiar voice of his father coming from somewhere behind him.

"Hello, Logan."

Logan barely looked up as his father joined him at the desk. He gritted his teeth and focused on the letter in his hand, forcing himself to remain calm as he asked coldly, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Aaron answered in the pleasant tone that never failed to send a chill down Logan's spine, "I need a place to stay." The man held up one of the hotel's brochures but Logan refused to glance at it, to glance at him.

"How are the suites?" Aaron asked conversationally.

Having had enough, Logan tucked his mail under his arm, grabbed a handful of mints from the desk and said venomously, "Well, probably an improvement over your previous digs." He unwrapped a mint and took the opportunity to dig the knife in, "It might be a little weird, though. I don't think any of the other guests have killed anyone."

Logan tried to walk away, headed to the elevator, but his father kept up with him.

"You know," Aaron said in a menacing manner, "You should really make more of an effort to be civil to me now, Logan."

'Fuck this.'

Stopping in his tracks, Logan rounded on his father and spat, "Why? Because you beat a murder rap and suddenly you're my father again?"

"No, Logan," Aaron said sternly, smugly, "I never stopped being your father and I never will. But I got the purse strings back." He patted Logan's shoulder and drove his final point home. "You're my dependant again, son."

Logan gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

'NO. I'm eighteen. I've got my inheritance from mom. He doesn't own me. I won't go back. NO.'

It was clear to Logan that his father knew exactly how much he'd shaken his son. When Aaron spoke again, it took every ounce of restraint that Logan could find not to deck the man.

"Going down?" Aaron asked cheerily.

"No," Logan said firmly, in spite of the churning emotions inside him and the bile rising in his throat because of them. "Up."

The elevator arrived and Aaron entered but Logan refused. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be in such a small, enclosed space with his father ever again. He saw the warning look that his father gave him just before the doors closed but Logan chose to ignore it. He couldn't afford another night of drunken disarray.

When the elevator returned, Logan reassured himself that his father wasn't on it before entering and pressing the button for the penthouse suites.

It took several tries for him to get his keycard to work and he cursed the bastard who'd sired him under his breath.

Once inside, he crashed onto the couch and pulled his cell from his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he scrolled through his contacts until he came to his lawyer's home phone. He hit send and held the phone to his ear.

A few moments later, the attorney came on the line and Logan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey. It's Logan. Echolls."

Silence ensued on Logan's end while he listened to the sympathetic pandering of the man who'd ultimately helped him gain his freedom. That is, after McCormack had hooked him up with the guy.

"Thanks, man," Logan said, then got to the point of his call, "Listen. What kind of investments can I make with what my mom left me that wouldn't leave me having to depend on my dad for dough? With him out...well, let's just say I've got no desire to be in the poor house but I've got even less desire to ever have to ask that bastard for a fucking thing again."

Logan listened as the man he'd come to trust when it came to legal matters advised him of his options. He could sell his mother's art collection. He could severely downscale his lifestyle, find a new roommate, or any number of other things. The bottom line was that anything he did would be temporary. He'd be able to sustain himself over the course of a year, maybe two, but then he'd be scrambling again.

Taking a deep breath, forcing his nerves to calm, Logan said pensively, "I'll think about it. Get back to you. Thanks for taking the time, man. Seriously."

When he hung up, he stared at the phone and idly scrolled through the contacts again. Without meaning to, he came to Veronica's name and was tempted to give her a call. Even if he hung up as soon as she answered, just hearing her voice would be soothing. But then it occurred to him that with his father roaming free, there was every possibility that Veronica wasn't safe.

He sighed and pressed the phone into the couch, cradling his head in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, refusing to give in to the lump that had formed in his throat.

Since he couldn't talk to her, he let his mind wander to Veronica. He imagined the softness of her hair, the sweetness of her smile, the fire in her eyes. He could still remember the exact scent of her perfume. Promises. It was all he had to hold onto. Somehow, some way, it would have to be enough.

Chapter 31

Graduation. It was supposed to be the one monumental accomplishment of any actual merit during the teen years. The moment that every family member, friend, neighbor, and acquaintance could be invited to so that the proud parents and the proud scholar could show off that oh so significant piece of paper that had cost blood and sweat and tears to earn.

For Logan, though, it was just another day where he had to threaten his father with a restraining order to keep him away from the pomp and circumstance. Another day where he had to get himself up and out of bed and motivated to participate in that which was expected of him.

There was no one who would be there to congratulate Logan on his accomplishment. No one who would give a damn one way or another whether he showed up, whether he graduated or not. Except him. HE cared that he'd done it. In spite of all the shit he'd had thrown at him and all the messes he'd gotten himself into, he was graduating. If nothing else, he figured he deserved a well-fucking-done from himself and nothing was going to get in the way of that.

Nothing was going to get in the way of him seeing Veronica graduate, either. Watch her cross that stage, take that diploma, flip that tassel. Nothing. Maybe he'd even get a chance to congratulate her in person. Explain, if he was lucky, that what she thought she'd seen that awful, fateful morning outside his suite had not, in fact, been remotely what had really happened.

He had wanted to chase after her immediately but even in his impaired state he'd realized how bad an idea that would have been. Every time he'd seen her since, though, things between them had been so tense and formal that he hadn't bothered. If he wanted her to listen, he had to catch her in just the right mood. He hoped that graduation would provide the necessary sentiment to inspire that.

Later, as he sat and waited for his name to be called, he found himself fervently wishing that his surname came later in the alphabet. Somewhere after 'M' to be specific. That way he would have been seated somewhere behind her and he could have spent the thoroughly boring interlude between their names and everyone else's watching her and daydreaming. As it was, he had to content himself with the fantasies minus the visual.

'Oh well. I'd probably better get used to it. Even if I do get to explain, it's not like she's going to forgive me and fall right back into my arms.'

He was pulled out of his reverie when he heard his own name called. With an ironic grin, he stood and made his way to the stage, up the stairs, and to the podium. Holding his left hand out for the hard-earned piece of what was probably recycled paper, he shook Mr. Clemmons's hand with his right.

A smirk graced his lips and a twinkle of humor danced in his eyes as he said, "Tell the truth, Mr. C. You're only letting me graduate so you don't have to see me and my shining personality back here in the fall."

Clemmons appeared to barely contain his own smile as he said with a single nod, "There is that, Mr. Echolls. There is that."

Logan let out an appreciative laugh, tipped his head toward the principal and made a show of flipping his tassel from one side of the cardboard cap to the other. Then, looking towards the crowd, he threw his fists in the air and gave a shout.

"WHOO!"

It was done. He'd made it. He had officially graduated.

Exiting stage right, he caught Veronica's eye and his heart did a flip in his chest. She was grinning and applauding, her face shining with pride and the only thing he could think in that moment was that if even a light breeze blew his way, he'd probably fly away like a leaf.

Instead, he pulled himself together, gave her a small smirk, and dipped his head in acknowledgment of her. When he took his seat, he closed his eyes and let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

'Goddamn. That woman is going to be the death of me yet!'

When it came her turn to cross the stage, Logan couldn't help the mix of emotions he felt while watching her. Pride. Love. And a sense of awe that he got to be one of the few who truly KNEW Veronica Mars. He only hoped that she was too far away to see all that when he smiled softly and clapped his hands as she accepted her diploma and took the opportunity provided to make some parting remarks to Clemmons. Remarks that were most likely snarky if he knew Veronica at all.

He allowed himself to once again retreat into his daydreams while he waited for the rest of the ceremony to be over.

As soon as the final speech was made and the clear signal was given, Logan rose with the rest of the graduates, let out a cheer, and tossed the cardboard graduation cap in the air. It was finished. This was it. There would be no more opportunities after this to make things right with the woman he loved.

For a long time, Logan hung back and allowed himself to be swallowed by the crowd outside the school where the masses had flooded in their rush to acknowledge their particular graduates and race to their vehicles in an attempt to beat the inevitable traffic jam. He saw Mr. Mars give Veronica a big hug, watched her open an envelope from him. He couldn't help grinning when he heard her squeal with delight as she threw her arms around her father.

But then Keith Mars moved away and left his daughter standing there, alone.

'What the hell?!'

Logan didn't waste his time speculating, though. He had his perfect opportunity and he was going to take it.

Just as he took a step forward, though, Dick stepped in and made an ass of himself, talking about the blowout grad party that night and throwing in a random dance move.

Impatiently, Logan rolled his eyes and waited for Dick to vanish again before he made his move. But then Veronica headed toward her car and someone else approached her as she got in.

'Dammit. Of course. Of course I can't catch a break. Not today. Not now. Not ever. Fucking karma!'

Of course, just as he thought it, he saw the woman who had stopped Veronica leave and he immediately moved forward with resolve.

'Screw karma. I'm taking my fate into my own hands.'

Before she could get away, he picked up the pace and jogged toward her car, calling out, "Hey! Veronica! Wait up!"

She stopped, hand on the ignition, about to turn the key, and looked up with a bright smile. The smile made it to her eyes but he also saw worry there so he knew he was about to lose his opportunity.

'Shit. Better make this quick.'

"Well congratulations, Echolls. It seems they DO graduate the underachievers with the scholars after all. Nicely done."

"Funny, Mars. Very funny," he responded as he slipped into the passenger seat of her LeBaron and looked at her earnestly. "Listen, I know you're probably busy but do you think you could spare a few minutes for us to talk alone? There's something I need to tell you because I-I don't want this," he motioned toward the school and the rest of their surroundings, "to be it. I mean, the end of our friendship."

Veronica studied him wordlessly for several moments, seeming to weigh her options. Everything in Logan made him want to look away, squirm, do something besides just sit there and wait for her answer. But he forced himself not to move.

"Okay," Veronica said finally. "Okay. But you're right. I'm on the run so this'll have to be quick. Got it?"

"No problem," Logan replied, relieved, "I'll talk but do you think you could drive us to the back parking lot first? It's usually less crowded there. Easier to talk."

He wasn't sure this was the best idea he'd ever had, but it was the only one he was likely to get so he'd take it and he wouldn't complain about it.

Once they were parked again, Logan looked over at the beauty who always seemed to surpass even his wildest dreams of her and he shook his head before he spoke.

"I know it may not matter, Veronica, and you may not believe me, but I need you to know…"

He was only going to get one shot at this. He couldn't mess it up.

"Kendall didn't stay with me that night," he blurted in a rush, bracing himself and continuing to speak at the same time, "I drank more after you left, passed out, and she woke me up not long before you came to my door. She was fully clothed and trying to convince me not to testify against my dad when you knocked." He shook his head. "I don't know, she must have thought that getting between us would benefit her somehow."

Initially, Veronica was silent, her hands trembling, white knuckled as she gripped the steering wheel. The more he talked, though, the more relaxed she became. She listened and stared straight out the window and he knew she couldn't look at him right then.

When there was nothing more for him to say, she took a deep breath and turned to him while he held his breath in anticipation of what would likely be the death blow for both their friendship and their relationship.

But she surprised him. She wet her lips and spoke softly, carefully when she said, "I hear you, Logan. And what you've said makes sense. It doesn't really change how I feel about a relationship with you right now, but I'll offer you the same deal I came to offer at your door. Friendship. Staying in touch. Seeing where things go. I meant it when I said I didn't want to lose you from my life, either." She paused before asking, a pleading look in her eyes, "Do you think you can live with that?"

A slow, wide smile spread across Logan's face and he nodded. "I can live with that."

She grinned and motioned her head toward his door, "Good. Now get out. I have to go help another friend before the party tonight. You can walk back to the front lot, right?" she asked with an innocent flutter of her lashes and a tilt to her head.

Logan laughed and opened the door, a bounce in his step as he got out. "That's cold, Mars. Cold!" he said as he swung the door shut and shook his head. "Just don't expect any special treatment tonight at the party. Not after ditching me like this!"

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Veronica declared with a sly wink before she put the pedal to the medal, squealing her tires as she drove off.

Feeling giddy and lighter than he'd felt in longer than he could remember, Logan watched her go until he couldn't see her or her LeBaron anymore. Then he turned, and with the grin still on his face, he headed back to his yellow monstrosity of an XTerra thinking, 'Take that, karma. Look who's a bitch now!'

Chapter 32

After having talked to Veronica earlier in the day, Logan went into the grad party that night more relaxed than he'd been in ages. Somehow, and probably for the first time ever, he just had a gut feeling that everything was going to be okay.

That all changed, though, the moment Veronica pulled him aside in the middle of a conversation he'd been having with a bunch of 09er guys about the most dangerous surf conditions they'd be willing to go out and hang ten in.

Surprised at the interruption, Logan started to smile and was about to say something when Veronica spoke abruptly.

"Hey, have you seen Beaver and Mac?"

Logan had already had a few drinks so it took him a moment to respond, the small smile still on his lips. "Yeah, they were here earlier."

Seeing the panic that flashed clearly through Veronica's intense gaze, Logan sobered up quickly as a dart of fear shot through him. The smile vanished from his face and he asked with concern, "What's wrong?"

There was a barely restrained nervous energy that he could see hiding behind Veronica's steely eyes when she started to say, "I think Beaver - " but then she interrupted herself when Dick turned around to see what had distracted Logan.

"What?" Dick asked, giving Veronica a look that spoke loudly of his sentiment toward her. Clearly, he thought she was there as a buzzkill, to bring Logan down, and he wasn't going to allow it.

Instead, she asked with only a modicum of her usual disdain for him, "Where's your brother?"

Without missing a beat, Dick replied, "I think he took Ghost World up to his room. They're probably up there making love. Or playing Dungeons and Dragons. Or both, at the same time. They're both like twelfth level dorks. I'm just sayin'..."

Immediately, Veronica took off for the door and left Logan standing there, watching after her, the hopeful feeling from earlier long gone, completely replaced by worry.

'What the hell was that all about?'

He hesitated a few moments before trying to go back to the party but he found that his mind kept wandering back to Veronica and the strange way that she'd been acting.

'Maybe I'd better go back to my room. Make sure I'm available if Veronica needs me. I wouldn't even be able to hear my phone ring if I stayed here. Not that it's any fun anymore anyway. Not when I keep seeing that strained look on her face, the panic in her eyes...'

Glancing at Dick and the other 09er guys around him, Logan said, "Hey dudes, I'll catch you later. I'm gonna go get some air for a while."

Dick gave him an accusatory look but Logan shrugged it off casually and made his way out of the large event room and toward the elevator that would take him to his suite.

Back in his room, Logan spent a good ten to fifteen minutes wandering from one end of the space to the other, looking out the window, stepping out onto the balcony. He knew he was trying to wait out Veronica, hoping she'd contact him to let him know what was going on or to ask for his help. But the waiting was driving him crazy.

Deciding to do something productive, Logan went back inside and made his way to the mini-fridge. He was squatting in front of it, perusing the contents, trying to determine what would be best to help finish the job of sobering him up, when his phone chimed. He pulled it out and saw that he had a new text message.

'Is that her?'

He opened the phone and frowned when he saw that it only said, "Meet me on the roof now" and wasn't from Veronica's number.

'What the hell…?'

He glanced toward the ceiling and a feeling of dread filled him.

'What the fuck am I going to find on the roof?'

Cursing under his breath, he stood and jogged toward the door, making his way as quickly as he could to the corridor and the stairwell that would lead him to his destination.

When he pushed the door open and he took in the scene, Logan felt a terror-induced adrenaline jolt run through him.

"NO!" he shouted without consciously realizing he was doing so.

As he stepped out onto the roof, Beaver swung around, took aim, and fired at Logan.

Logan dove to the left and the shot missed, ricocheting off the metal grill next to him. When he rose up and cautiously peered around a raised part of the roof, he saw that Beaver was walking toward him and was taking aim to fire off another shot. Logan ducked down again just in time for the bullet to stroke in the exact location his head had just been.

When he looked up this time, he saw Veronica on Beaver's back and watched as he tossed her off. Logan immediately lunged at Beaver from the other direction, taking the younger teen by surprise. The gun dropped from Beaver's hand and slid away while Logan grappled with him, trying to gain the upper hand. Beaver's arms were behind his head when a lightning bolt of electricity burned Logan's flesh, sending him backwards and making him lose his hold.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and both young men startled, freezing as they both peered upward to see what was happening.

Veronica held the gun, her voice trembling as she gasped, "Logan, move away from him."

Logan slowly stood, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. He carefully raised his hand toward her and said shakily, "Veronica, don't."

"He killed my father!" cried Veronica, more distraught than Logan had ever seen her.

His mouth went dry, fear coursed through him. He edged toward her, his thoughts whirling a million miles an hour.

'Oh God. Mr. Mars. Veronica. The gun. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.'

Making his voice as soft and commanding as he could, Logan said, "Give me the gun, Veronica."

"He killed everyone on the bus!" she yelled angrily.

Logan took another creeping step forward but her next words, strangled with emotion, stopped him cold in his tracks.

"He RAPED me!"

Everything felt like it was in slow motion for Logan after that. He turned his head to look at Beaver, his breathing shallow, almost non-existent.

When he could force himself to move again, he inched the last few steps toward Veronica and told her, his voice stronger but still shaking, "You are not a killer, Veronica. Give me the gun."

His hand was almost to the gun now and he could see her starting to break down. She needed him. She may never need him more than she needed him in that moment.

He reached for the gun, could almost feel it in his hand. Her breath hitched in a heart-wrenching sob and his heart broke for the woman he loved.

"You're not a killer, Veronica," he said in a steady, certain tone, "Give me the gun."

She finally released the weapon into his hand and threaded her arms around his waist, weeping against his shoulder where she buried her head.

Logan wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her hair. Desperately, he wished he could take away her pain, protect her from ever having to feel any kind of heartache again. But he knew that even if he could do that, the loss of her father, how close they were, would haunt her forever.

Remembering Beaver then, Logan lifted his head and turned to look for him, refusing to loosen his embrace even one iota. What he saw, though, made him reluctantly release Veronica and take a few steps toward where Beaver now stood on the edge of the roof.

"Beaver, don't!" Logan called to his friend's little brother frantically.

"My NAME is CASSIDY," came the passionate response.

"Cassidy," Logan amended, "Don't."

With a crazed look in his eyes, Cassidy's response was almost a dare, "Why not?"

Logan was struck dumb. His mind completely blanked on providing him with any possible reason why the young man in front of him shouldn't do exactly what it appeared that he was planning to do.

As if the silence were confirmation, Cassidy smirked and said, "That's what I thought," before taking a step backward and off the roof.

A moment later, Logan heard the sound of a crash, brakes squealing, and a horn blowing. He stared in horror at the spot where Beaver...Cassidy...had stood seconds before.

'Is this for real? No, that couldn't have just happened. There is no way that Dick's brother just jumped off the roof of the Grand. No way.'

He was paralyzed. Unable to move. Until he felt Veronica step around him and into his embrace again. His arms enfolded around her and it was as if she had grounded him, brought him back to reality. The truth sank in and he fought the tears that sprang to his eyes but there was no way to keep them at bay. He turned his head away, burying his face in Veronica's hair again as they stood and cried together.

Suddenly, Veronica gasped and her head lifted from Logan's shoulder.

"Mac," she said urgently, "Sh-she and Beaver had gotten a room…"

She didn't need to say anything more for Logan to begin guiding them back toward the stairs that would take them from the roof and the horrific nightmare they'd both just experienced.

"Come on," he said as he led her away, "I'll get the front desk to tell us where she is."

Less than five minutes later, the concierge was opening a room on the sixth floor for them and Veronica was rushing forward calling Mac's name while Logan hung back, waiting in the hallway.

"Mac?" Veronica yelled again before stopping at the side of the bed.

The concierge had stepped inside so Logan moved in and around him so he could see what Veronica was seeing.

To his utter dismay, what he saw was Veronica's friend, Mac, wrapped in a shower curtain, her hair wet, crouched down, looking both terrified and bewildered.

'Oh man. The sick fuck! If he hadn't already killed himself, I just might do it for him!'

He watched as Veronica squatted down in front of the scared girl and he heard the girl say in a shaky voice, "He took my clothes. He took everything. Why?"

A little hiccup sounded from Veronica and he saw her lift her hand to her mouth before she leaned over and took her friend into her arms where they clung to each other and cried for a long time.

Logan left the two girls alone while he quietly went about telling the concierge and then the sheriff what had happened. He then made arrangements for the concierge to bring Mac some new clothes and call her a taxi so that she could be transported home where her family could take care of her.

When the deputies were finally done talking to all three, Mac changed in the bathroom and then Logan and Veronica escorted her down to the main entrance where her cab was waiting.

Veronica gave her friend a hug goodbye before turning back to Logan, dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. She looked lost, haunted.

Logan himself was exhausted but still he spread his arm for her and she walked toward him, slipping her own arm around his waist as he tucked her in snugly against his side.

Placing a light kiss on the top of her head, Logan murmured to her softly, "Come on, let's get you home."

Chapter 33

By the time he pulled up in front of her apartment building, Veronica was fast asleep in the passenger seat of his XTerra. Logan turned off the engine, pulled out the keys, and just sat there a few minutes watching her breathe.

'Fuck. What a night. Sheriff Mars, dead. Beaver, dead. Come morning, the two people who have been more loyal to me than I deserve are gonna have to start dealing with their worlds being turned upside down and I don't have a fucking clue how I can help them. What the hell can I possibly say to Dick when he asks about what happened with his brother? No way will he be able to handle the truth...'

His heart twisted in his chest while his stomach tied itself in knots. He felt helpless. Utterly incapable of doing a goddamn thing to make things better for anyone.

Finally, he sighed, opened the driver's door, and went around to get Veronica. When he saw her looking so peaceful, a lump formed in his throat. He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard before rummaging in her bag for the keys.

After opening the door and putting Backup in one of the bedrooms, Logan returned to stare down at the woman he loved for just a few moments longer. He brushed her hair out of her face and back behind her ear, inhaling deeply as his fingers gently caressed along her jawline.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this," he whispered. "After everything else, you shouldn't have lost your dad, too." He lifted her into his capable arms and shifted her so that her head rested comfortably on his shoulder, then he leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "I know I'm an ass and couldn't even begin to compare, but I hope you know you've got me anyway. For as long as you want me. And probably then some."

He moved with her slowly and smoothly, making sure not to jostle her or disturb her in any way. As soon as he crossed her threshold and into her apartment, he kicked the door closed behind them and moved to the couch where he took a seat, laying Veronica across his lap in much the same way that he had lain across her lap almost a year before.

Resting his head back against the couch cushion, he exhaled and let as much of the tension from the last few hours drain out of him as he could. How had they ended up back here again? After the year from hell, a year that had started with a murder and him lying injured on this same couch, being comforted by Veronica, they'd found their way back here. Again they were dealing with a murder. And now it was his turn to comfort her. But how?

Without realizing it, he fell into an exhausted, dreamless slumber while he was still trying to work out the response to his own question.

At some point during the night, he thought he dreamed Veronica waking him up, settling him more comfortably on the couch, and tucking him in, complete with a gentle hug and a tender kiss on the cheek. When he woke up in the morning with a warm blanket over him, he found it difficult to distinguish what part of that dream had been real and what part had been wishful thinking.

Instead of mulling it over too much or thinking about it too deeply, Logan got up and headed to the kitchen. It was almost seven in the morning. He knew that typically Veronica liked to sleep in but somehow he doubted anything about the day was going to be typical for her.

'What can I do? How the hell do I even start to try making all this any easier on her?'

He sat on a stool at the counter and let his mind wander for a few minutes. When he looked up, his eyes focused on the coffeemaker and he knew what he could do, at least in that moment.

Rising and moving toward the cabinets, he started opening the ones closest to the coffeemaker, mumbling to himself as he searched for something resembling anything that could be turned into that precious nectar from the gods.

"Bean juice...bean juice...where the hell is it?"

On the middle shelf, behind some foreign substance that was completely unidentifiable to him, he found a container of coffee and some filters and immediately he got to work.

'The one thing I know how to make without instructions...'

Once the coffee was started, he again went searching through the cabinets and the refrigerator until he found a few things he thought he could turn into at least a somewhat edible breakfast.

'Not like she'll be paying attention to what she's eating this morning.'

He was so concentrated on what he was doing at the stove that he didn't hear Veronica moving around at first. It wasn't until she came flying around the corner and into the kitchen, calling "Dad?!" that he realized that cooking for her had probably been a mistake.

'Fuck. Great start, Logan. Like making breakfast was really gonna be what she needed. She NEEDS her dad, not some fucking pancakes and bacon!'

Veronica's face fell and she bit her lower lip in that telltale way of hers that said she was fighting her emotions. Her entire body was trembling and tears were streaming down her face by the time Logan got to her and enfolded her in his arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he murmured against her hair while she fell to pieces once again.

His heart ached for her. He felt so powerless, so out of control. There was nothing he could do that would bring Keith back. Nothing. And the woman he held in his arms would never be the same without the man who'd always been her strength.

"Is that breakfast I smell?"

The words were so unexpected that Logan looked up with a start. Over Veronica's shoulder he saw someone that he'd thought he would never see again.

Mr. Mars stood there, whole and well. He didn't look like he had even a scratch on him.

As Veronica tore out of Logan's arms, he could only stare in amazement.

'How the hell did he get out alive?! Veronica said his plane blew up...'

Relieved and grateful beyond words that Veronica wouldn't have to learn to live without her father, Logan quietly turned to pull the food off the stove before silently slipping out the door.

'They need to be alone right now. I can catch up with her later... '

The whole ride back to the hotel, Logan wondered whether Veronica would call him, fill him in on what had happened, let him know for sure that everything was all right.

It humbled him that she had trusted him to help her in that moment on the roof when she'd been terrified and alone, but he wasn't sure what that might mean for them now. Would she want to continue with their plan to remain friends or would seeing him, spending time with him remind her too much of the horrendous nightmare they'd been part of on the roof?

He was still thinking about all this when he arrived at the Grand, but he was almost immediately forced to set aside everything but the officers that awaited him in the lobby.

The sheriff was there and so were several deputies. All it took was a single look for Logan's gut to tie itself into knots, so certain was he that they were there for him.

'What the fuck could they want now? I told them everything I knew last night.'

Lamb looked extremely uncomfortable and he was missing his usual smug little smirk.

Logan frowned at him and asked cautiously, "Sheriff. Did you forget to dot an 'i' or cross a 't' last night?"

"Not quite," Lamb responded before looking to Sacks and giving him a nod, "Go ahead, Deputy. Tell him the latest news."

Deputy Sacks struggled for a moment before he cleared his throat and began, "We regret to inform you that your father is dead. He was found this morning by housekeeping."

"Dead?" Logan repeated, stunned, "Aaron Echolls is dead. Are you sure?"

Sacks turned to Lamb uncertainly but then continued anyway, "Well, we need you to come down to the morgue and identify him but yes, he was killed here last night. Shot straight through the skull at close range." The man paused awkwardly before mumbling, "I'm sorry for your loss."

A number of emotions flowed through Logan all at once. Disbelief, relief, guilt, and strangely, remorse. He felt like he was moving through water, his mind and body disconnected as he nodded and went through the motions of following the deputy to his car.

Later, he barely remembered the cold chill that ran down his spine when he saw his father laid out, pale and cold, on the stainless steel slab in the morgue.

He felt numb by the time he made it back to the hotel lobby. He walked to the elevator in a daze. Silently, he opened the door to his suite, closing it behind him and promptly collapsed onto the couch. Elbows on his knees, head in his hands, he sat unmoving, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

When, some time later, his phone started to play 'Private Eyes', he jumped, startled by the sound.

'Veronica?'

"Hello?" he answered the call warily, sure he sounded tired and defeated.

"Logan?"

He could tell she was worried about him just from the tone of her voice.

"Hey," he said quietly, feeling the muscles in his neck and shoulders relax as he rested his head back on the leather couch cushion. "Having a good day with your dad?"

She sighed into the phone and he knew she was losing patience fast. Not that she had much patience to lose.

"Logan," she said, her voice now both firm and caring, "I saw on the news about your dad. Are you ok? Do you need me to come over?"

"I'm fine, Veronica, really," Logan said as reassuringly as he could but then he couldn't help the bitter little laugh that he let out at the irony of her comforting him rather than the other way around. "Better my dad than yours, right?"

He winced at how biting the words sounded and sighed, "I'm sorry, Veronica. I didn't mean that. It's just...I never thought I'd be the next Little Orphan Annie, you know?"

Her voice was soft, like a caress, and he took comfort in it by closing his eyes, inhaling deeply, and releasing the breath slowly.

"I know, Logan," she said, "That's why I'm asking about coming over. I know you and your dad didn't exactly get along, but he was still family and losing family hurts."

"You would know," he responded immediately, "You've lost nearly as much as I have."

Determined to get an answer, this time Veronica made it a statement. "I'm coming over, Logan," she said. And finally got the reaction she'd been looking for.

"Don't bother, Veronica," Logan said tiredly, "I've gotta get some sleep. Tomorrow I have to deal with the lawyers and follow up with the sheriff's department."

But Veronica, ever persistent, could not be deterred.

"I'm coming over, Logan," she repeated sternly. "You were there for me when I needed you. You can't keep me from being there for you now."

With a sigh and a soft smile, Logan closed his eyes and nodded to himself. "Ok, fine. God, you're bossy," he teased with a warm lilt in his voice.

She chuckled quietly on the other end of the line and said, "That's right, and don't you forget it."

By the time she arrived, he had already ordered a bunch of comfort food for them to share. The platter of fatty goodness came not too long after she did.

Her bright eyes widened as she stared at the food in awe, asking in disbelief, "What did you do? Order every fried everything on the menu?"

"Just about," he answered with a noncommittal shrug, "It's self-defense, really. A hungry Mars is a mean Mars."

She smacked his arm with a playful glare and said, "Watch it, buddy. Or I'll eat all yours, too."

"Don't you do that anyway?" he asked with a small smile as he braced himself for another whack.

Suddenly, though, she was serious, and instead of hitting him like he'd expected, she said sincerely, "Logan. I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me. We were barely talking, barely starting to be friends again, and you came through for me like nobody else could have. Just...thank you for that."

He shook his head and said, "No way, Veronica. You're the one that's always been there for me. To challenge me, to knock some sense into me, to keep me in line. Sooo...thanks. I wouldn't have made it through this year without you."

Now it was Veronica's turn to shake her head. "Without me? Logan, you DID make it through this year without me." She paused and bit her lower lip like she always did when she was about to say something that was difficult for her, something that left her vulnerable. He wanted to reach forward and swipe his finger over her lips but he forced himself to maintain his control.

"Can we try again, Logan? I-I want to try again. With us. You and me. Th-the relationship thing."

Her words were like a salve to his heart. A balm to his wounds. All he was able to do was swallow the lump that had formed in his throat and nod before saying gruffly, "Yeah. I'd like that, too."

Chapter 34

Tuesday morning, Logan was outside Mars Investigations bright and early. Veronica was headed to New York with her dad, but he'd talked her into letting him drive her to the airport. He was both excited and apprehensive as he debated whether to open the office door or just wait for Veronica to come out.

In spite of having spent most of the day before with her and part of Sunday as well, Logan found he was almost giddy with the anticipation of seeing his girlfriend again.

'Girlfriend. I don't know what the hell made her decide to give me another chance but I will NOT be fucking it up this time.'

The apprehension, however, was not only at the thought of not seeing her for a whole week. It was at the thought that the trip would give her enough time away from him to decide that it was a mistake to give him another chance.

'What if she comes to her senses and realizes she deserves way better than a guy as screwed up as me?'

He sighed and pushed the pessimistic ruminations aside. He couldn't stand outside forever. Finally, after taking a deep breath to shore up his resolve, he took the plunge and opened the door.

Just inside were Veronica's bags. He picked up her carryon bag and slung it over his shoulder, peeking around the door as he called, "So…?"

Veronica looked up at him and smiled. It was that unguarded, genuine smile that he loved so much and he couldn't help but grin at her in return. He jiggled the bag he was carrying at her in the most subtle prompt he could manage, then he stepped back outside to wait for her.

Moments later, she exited the building with her other bag, and Logan closed the office door behind her.

Immediately, he dropped the carry-on and slipped her bag out of her hand before swooping her into a playful waltz as he kissed her and spun her along the wall.

She gasped and returned his kisses eagerly, and a thrill shot up and down his spine.

"What are you doing?" Veronica asked breathlessly as he halted their progress with her pinned against the wall.

"I'm not gonna see you for a whole week," he explained, his voice playful and boyish in spite of the fact that his fear of what might happen while she was away was real. "That's like, a month."

She laughed, looking up at him affectionately as she said reassuringly, "Yeah, but then I'll be back and everything will be fine."

Logan swallowed hard. "Yeah…" he sighed, stalling by kissing the nape of her neck and then her cheek. He didn't want to tell her about his doubts, but this was a new start. He definitely didn't want to hide anything from her, either.

He avoided speaking as long as he could but when he did talk, he felt completely vulnerable and exposed.

"Mmm...you say that...but I don't know…"

"I know," Veronica told him confidently, "I can feel it."

"And you're never wrong," he responded skeptically.

She shook her head and he studied her doubtfully.

"Yeah?"

He could hear the note of hope in his own voice, begging her to be right.

Veronica giggled but before she could say anything further, someone spoke from behind them.

"Aw, young love," the voice said sarcastically.

It was Kendall.

Logan saw Veronica glare at her. He could practically feel her claws coming out, ready for a fight. The image in his head of Veronica Mars and Kendall Casablancas facing off brought a smirk to his lips.

"No, no. Hold that position. Norman Rockwell wants to come in and paint you two," she paused a moment, then asked Veronica in a syrupy sweet tone, "Did he pin on his pin or was he too shy?"

Ignoring the taunting question, Veronica demanded in annoyance, "Why are you here?"

'God, she's fierce. Like a bobcat. And Kendall is a fucking cougar.'

Unable to resist, Logan added, "Yeah, I didn't know you could come out during daylight hours."

Haughtily, Kendall passed them both. When she reached the office door, she turned to say, "I have a business proposition for your father."

As she entered the building, Veronica called after her, "Okay, but I'm warning you, he doesn't carry much cash!"

Logan chuckled and swept Veronica up in another spin, turning her and kissing her senseless at the same time.

When she began responding to him again and he felt her relax into his arms, he murmured next to her ear, "Come on. We can take advantage of your dad's delay and spend some time making out in the parking garage before you have to meet him at the check-in desk."

Giggling again, Veronica swatted at him and said, "I bet now he won't get to meet me until I get to the gate."

Grinning slyly as he reached for her bags and kissed her again, Logan said, "Even better. Maybe I should get myself a boarding pass."

Rolling her eyes but making her way to his SUV, Veronica said, "Go ahead, but it'll be your ass if my dad catches you still there at last boarding call."

They continued their banter all the way to the airport. Logan could have sworn he'd never been so lighthearted or content in his life. He parked as close as he could without being in the terminal lot so that they could make out and tease one another for as long as possible and so he could carry her bags to the counter and help her check in. It made no difference to him that it cost thirty dollars a day to park there. It would be worth it for the extra time with Veronica.

In the end, he trailed her to the security line, watching and waiting as long as he could until finally she'd made it through, turned back to wave to him, blowing him a kiss, and then, at last, she was gone.

Logan sighed and frowned as he turned reluctantly to head back to his yellow monstrosity. His heart ached and he longed to give into impulse, stride up to that counter, and buy his own ticket to New York. But with her father most likely nearing the terminal himself, Logan knew there was no way that would be a good idea.

Instead, he meandered through the parking lot and when he finally reached his vehicle, he sat there, hands resting on the steering wheel, for what seemed like hours. He had no idea what he was going to do with himself while Veronica was gone. The only thing he was sure of was that he'd damn well keep himself out of trouble.

He'd probably end up seeing Dick. Having not seen him yet since everything on the roof with his brother, that visit was something he'd come to dread. He had just put the keys in the ignition when his phone rang and startled him, causing him to fumble around as he tried to get it out of his pocket.

His brow furrowed, wondering who would be calling him as he hit the talk button and said, "Hello?"

"Hey," came a very familiar voice in response, one that alarmed him the second he heard it.

"Veronica?! What's going on? Shouldn't you be in the air by now?" he asked in confusion.

"I am in the air. I'm on the in-flight phone," came the exasperated reply, "Only my dad's not here with me. I just called the office and it went straight to voicemail. And get this," she added with a huff, "he left a message just for me, saying something had come up, a job he HAD to take. He told me to go ahead without him and he'd meet me there in a few days."

"A few days?!" Logan exclaimed, his mind racing as he hopped out of the SUV, locked it, and headed back to the terminal. "Veronica, there's no way I'm letting you wander around New York City on your own till he gets there. Not with everything we've just had happen."

"Logan," Veronica began to admonish him testily, but he cut her off before she could say more.

"No, listen. I'm still at the airport. I'm gonna grab a ticket for the next flight out. I'll join you," he insisted as he jogged back toward the terminal.

She sounded flabbergasted when she responded, "Seriously, Logan, it's a lovely gesture but you do NOT need to come to NYC to protect me from the big bad subway musicians."

"Hold on," Logan said as he reached the counter, holding the phone away from his mouth while he told the attendant, "One ticket on the next flight to New York, any seat available is fine."

When he put the phone back up to his mouth, he told Veronica firmly, "There. Ticket is bought and paid for. I can buy clothes and whatever else I need when I get there. You can't tell me to turn around now." Then, as he stepped toward the security line, he said with a grin, "I told you a week was too long to go without seeing you. Your dad bailing on your trip sounds like the perfect excuse for me to join in."

Veronica laughed and Logan breathed a sigh of relief.

'Good. She doesn't think I'm insane. Or if she does, she'll let me get away with it this once. Maybe. I hope. I guess I'll see when I get there...'

"You want to meet me at the hotel?" she asked, sounding like she'd decided to simply accept her fate.

He stopped in his tracks, both brows rising high into his hairline. He composed himself quickly and even managed an amused quip.

"Hotel, huh? Kinky, Mars. You're not trying to get into my pants, are you?"

Even through the phone line, her laughter warmed his heart.

Instead of answering, she simply said, "I'll be at the Times Square Sheraton. I'll text you the room number as soon as I'm checked in."

Biting back an inappropriate response, Logan chuckled to himself, saluting like an idiot even though she couldn't see him.

"Aye-aye, Cap'n. I'll see you there."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he closed the phone and stepped into line. The next few hours would be long and excruciating, he thought.

'But so fucking worth it.'

It took precisely six hours twenty-two minutes and fifteen seconds for Logan to get from the airport in San Diego to the curb outside the Sheraton Hotel in Times Square.

He stood, staring up at the building, suddenly nervous. The whole situation was starting to feel almost surreal.

'Am I dreaming? Am I really about to spend several uninterrupted days in New York City with Veronica Mars? Unaccompanied, unchaperoned...oh my god, what am I doing here?!'

Before he could lose his nerve, he stepped into the lobby and pulled out his phone. He had one text, from Veronica, that simply read, "Room 512."

He took a deep breath, stuffed his phone back in his pocket, and headed to the elevators. He clenched and unclenched his fists several times while he waited, swallowing hard when he heard the chime that one of the cars had arrived.

Stepping inside, he pressed the number '5' and stood back against the wall to let the other guests crowd in.

At the fifth floor, he mumbled his excuses and exited the car, looking around for room 512. Seeing a sign pointing him down a hall to his left, he followed it until he stood outside a door, now the only thing between him and Veronica.

Working desperately to calm his nerves, Logan wondered vaguely what the hell had happened to all his bravado. Then he lifted his hand, heard his knock echo against the door, and held his breath while he waited for the answer.

When the door opened, Veronica stood there grinning from ear to ear. Her eyes sparkled with delight and she pulled him inside as she spoke in a soft, relieved tone that he'd only ever heard once before.

"I was hoping it would be you."

Something about her words allowed him to start breathing again. His eyes held hers, communicating all the things he knew he'd never be able to say.

Reaching for her, he pulled her smoothly into his arms and sealed his mouth over hers in a kiss more passionate than any he'd ever imagined. Without letting her go or loosening his grip, he kicked the door closed behind him before spinning her slowly down the short hall and toward the main part of the room.

With a grin, he brought them to a halt at the foot of the bed, framed her face with his hands, and kissed her forehead.

"Hi," he said quietly.

"Hey," she smiled softly back.

Searching her eyes, he suggested reluctantly, "I should go check into my own room…"

Veronica shook her head and held onto him tighter. "Stay."

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"

She nodded up at him, biting her lower lip. The trust in her eyes blew him away.

Mouth suddenly dry, Logan swallowed hard and asked, "What are you offering here, Veronica? I really don't want us to get our signals crossed and screw this up."

"I'm saying I want you, Logan," she said barely above a whisper. "I...I've been thinking about it ever since you said you were going to join me here. And I...I want you to make love to me."

For a moment, he wasn't sure that he'd heard her right. His heart skipped a beat, realizing that it was possible that his greatest fantasy was about to come true.

He ducked his head and got on eye level with her so he wouldn't miss even the slightest hesitation in her answer when he asked, "Are you sure?"

There was an intense vulnerability and openness in her expression as she nodded her head at him and breathed, "I'm sure."

At that point there was nothing to do but kiss her. Which he did. Fervently. Before sitting down on the bed and pulling her onto his lap much like another time they'd been on the edge of this, this completely unreal experience.

Her fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt and he laid his lips on the pulse racing wildly at the nape of her neck before lifting his arms to assist her as she pulled the soft cotton tee over his head and set it to the side.

"If you want to stop, at any time," Logan told her seriously, "We can stop. No questions asked."

"No questions asked," Veronica repeated with a small smile as she lifted her own shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. "Sooo, what you're saying is that I'm in control here. Is that it?"

There was no missing the teasing tone of her voice. That combined with her nearly bare upper body and the way she was straddling his hips made him groan.

"I'm pretty sure you own me right now," he responded wryly.

"Good," she said with satisfaction, her fingers tracing over his chest and abdomen. When she came to several scars, however, her brows furrowed and she frowned.

"Your dad?" she asked quietly.

All he could do was nod.

Slowly, she lowered her lips to kiss each of the scars she'd found. It made his heart ache to think of her doing the same with the rest of his scars as she found them.

'With as many as there are, that might take her awhile...'

His breath hitched in his throat at the thought of being with her like this multiple times on multiple occasions and he could no longer control himself. Rolling them over, he pinned her to the bed. His eyes met hers with an intensity he'd never felt before. His voice was raspy and full of emotion when he spoke.

"If you want to stop, tell me now while I can still partially think straight."

The wonder on her face as she looked up into his eyes floored him. He desperately wanted to make love to her but he was also keenly aware of how important it was for her to be in control. To not for a second feel like her freedom to choose had been taken away from her.

"I trust you," she whispered, caressing his face with the back of her hand.

Those words were enough. They were the words he'd waited so long to hear and had often believed would never be true again. Time and time again, he'd disappointed her, lashed out at her, and yet here she was, offering herself to him completely.

"I love you, Veronica Mars," he murmured as he nuzzled her ear, "I think I always have and I probably always will."

Kissing along her jaw and down her throat while his fingers nimbly undid her bra, his mouth then made its way across her shoulder, lowering one bra strap, pulling the material down until a small but supple breast was revealed. He took her nipple in his mouth and rolled it over his tongue, relishing the gasp he heard as he removed the strap from her arm and went about lowering the other one.

He lavished the same attention on the other breast and by the time her chest was completely bare, she was whimpering and she couldn't keep her hips from wriggling beneath him.

"Want me to stop?" he asked with a grin, fully expecting the glare he received from hooded and lust-filled eyes.

"Don't you dare!" she practically growled, and he laughed.

'Yep. Bobcat. I'll have to keep that in mind as a nickname...'

She raised her hips and he compliantly moved his nimble fingers to undo the button and pull down the zipper. He held her gaze as he slid her pants and underwear down together.

"Still ok?" he felt compelled to ask.

When she nodded, he bent over her again, this time sealing his lips over her navel. He sucked rhythmically at the flesh before swirling his tongue in and out of it.

A gasp escaped her and her body trembled as her hips bucked toward him.

"More," she rasped breathily, a request he was happy to fulfill.

By the time they lay panting on the bed an unknown amount of time later, sated and feeling like jello, there was not a doubt in Logan's mind that following Veronica to New York had been one of the best decisions he had ever or would ever make in his life.

He rolled to his side and ran a light finger along her jaw, memorizing every aspect of her countenance in that moment.

"You ok?" he asked softly.

Every feature of the face he was studying so intently bloomed into a radiant smile. She lifted a hand and traced her index finger over his lips and answered with a nod, "Uh huh." Then she seemed to think better of her response and added, "Actually, I don't think I've been more ok in my life. You're pretty damn talented, you know that?"

A pleased laugh reverberated through him and he shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah, well, this is definitely one activity where you really are only as good as your partner." He paused and added dryly, "Trust me on that."

"Oh, I will definitely take your word for it," Veronica said wryly, "I have NO desire to hear how you got this good. Instead, I'm just going to choose to think of how lucky I am to reap the benefits of your experience."

Coughing with laughter, Logan tickled Veronica's sides and relished the sound of her squeals as he said, "Yeah, that's probably for the best. Would hate to see what a jealous Mars might do if she decided to get her revenge on…"

Veronica fought back, taking advantage of the knowledge she'd gained in the early years of their friendship, back when they'd have tickle fights on the floor of the Kanes' media room while waiting for them to get back from shopping or soccer or wherever. She managed to sneak her small fingers to his most ticklish spot - the backs of his knees - and suddenly he was the one squealing and scrambling to get away.

"Mercy!" he cried, "UNCLE!"

By the time they were done, they were both breathless and laughing, lying in a heap on the floor.

He looked over at her with a wicked grin and waggled his eyebrows.

"Ready for round two?"

They spent the next couple days wandering New York together, seeing the sights, riding the ferry, visiting museums, and taking in as much as they could of Broadway. It was a whirlwind of activity, but at the end of each day, they returned to the hotel, shed their clothes, and made mad, passionate love to each other.

After they got word as to when Mr. Mars would be arriving, they arranged for Logan to fly back to San Diego just before Keith's flight was to land. Once he was in the air, Logan had to remind himself that the trip hadn't been some sort of an elaborate dream.

Veronica would be back in a day or two and everything would be fine, he told himself. Just like she'd said.

When he thought back on how his year had started and how it was ending, he could only shake his head in disbelief. He'd been through hell and then some, in part because of his own bad choices and in part because of events totally outside his control. But the one thing he realized as he sat there looking out the window, flying across the country for the second time in less than a week, was that he would do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant he could be with Veronica forever.