Love Letters from Yokosuka
A/N: Hey, back again. Delving into a multichapter fic with two weeks left to go of my break probably isn't a good idea—and yet... Blah. Well, this is going to be short, hopefully… mercifully? The title is borrowed from a Nujabes song: Letters from Yokosuka just because I like it. ^^. This fic is a post season three fic (like pooooost post, years past post) and not movie-compatible, making it effectively AU. Still, I hope you all enjoy it.
Chapter 1
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It was hard to say how they were still so involved in each other's lives. Though, she supposed, he kind of forced her hand when he beat up someone linked to the Russian mafia in her honor. After a display like that, it was hard not to give the guy a few allowances regarding past indiscretions—ones that should never ever ever be mentioned in front of her ever again without her initiating the conversation if anyone knew what was good for them.
Which is how she found herself giving him some allowances in his hotel bed instead of trying to explain to Piz how she and Logan were over for good immediately after going to the voting booths to vote for her father. After that, unsurprisingly, things weren't happily ever after for them.
The same issues kept coming back up over and over again. The most pivotal one was trust. However, that didn't stop them from falling back into one another's arms—or if a bed was available, that.
It was a cycle: fall apart, break up, come together, bliss, eggshells, and repeat. It was routine, it was comfortable, it was them.
And, God have mercy on the people they dragged into their twisted mating ritual. Wallace put it best—as well as most bluntly—when he first saw Veronica's nice guy du jour and told him, "Do yourself a favor and just hit the ground whenever Logan's around."
Of course, the guy didn't listen. And, of course, Wallace was right.
After a somewhat heated argument he had with Veronica—over nice guy defending himself when Logan punched him after seeing nice guy with his female coworker and thinking he was cheating on Veronica—, he dropped by her house to apologize for something he wasn't sure he needed to even apologize for only to see Veronica and Logan furiously trying to figure who could get the other's clothes off faster through the window.
For those who dislike suspense or loose ends or maybe just liked to torture themselves like the nice guy apparently did, neither won; they hadn't made it past stripping off the essentials. Because, why waste time?
Although, that wasn't quite fair to Logan or the sugary, sweet hearted girls he habitually had chasing after him.
Were Wallace and Logan closer, he would've had a few choice words to give to those girls, too, such as, "He is not your man. Keep on walking. Run, if you can."
And, so it went on. After Hearst, after graduate school and FBI training, after travelling, after moving out of state, across the country, around the world. During the moments of life in between the general vagueness, they found each other, accidental and sometimes not, falling back into old habits and old ways, the cycle sometimes prolonged or shortened in some parts but never broken.
More often than not, they found each other in their seedy hometown of Neptune because, really, no matter how bad things got, it was home. And, you always came back to home.
.
In her corner office at Kane Software, Cindy 'Mac' Mackenzie's private line rang. It was an unknown number, naturally. Standing up to close the door and pull the blinds to the glass panels that separated her from the rest of the ilk, Mac eagerly picked up the phone. It hadn't been too long since Veronica talked to her, but the last time she did, she mentioned there being some important news that she couldn't tell Mac about until she was sure.
"Hello?" She said into the phone receiver. "Bond?"
"Hey, Q. It's been a while."
"Let's not talk shop, Veronica. I need details! What was the big news?" Veronica just turned her into such a girl sometimes.
There was silence coming from the other line, and Mac was prepared to fly to Veronica's apartment in Virginia and wait for her there if it meant getting an immediate answer.
Impatiently, she prompted, "Veronica!"
"I know! I know. I'm still here. I was just thinking about how to tell you…"
"How about using your words?"
"Bossy… Mmm," she took a moment to chew on her lip before beginning, "Remember when you saw me a few months ago, and we thought I got the stomach flu from that Ethiopian takeout place you forced me into trying in LA?"
"Uh, yeah? What, did the bug grow up into a butterfly?" She joked.
"Don't be silly," Veronica said, trying to imitate Mac's lighthearted tone. "Caterpillars are insects."
"Then what?" Mac asked, a little concerned by her friend's obviously nervous behavior. Veronica had been trained to mask her emotions during her employment at the FBI, so if she wanted to hide something. She could. But, she didn't now, which meant… "Veronica?"
"So, funny story. It was actually a parasite. Not a bug… or insect like we thought," she cleared her throat.
Mac gripped the phone in her hand, knuckles white. Whispering, in a constricted voice, she asked, "What?"
"Not a serious one or life threatening," she followed up quickly, not wanting to give Mac a heart attack. "Well, the doctors said I'd be fine and it'd be fine anyway. I guess with my luck, something might go wrong, but I don't know. My dad said he'd be there with me to make sure, and I'm planning to take some time off and go back home to visit so that he would definitely be there. I don't want to be alone, you know? Which means, oh, I can see you and Wallace and the old gang, and I guess that's redundant because the old gang is just you and Wallace pretty much, other unmentionables notwithstanding. I just really feel—"
"Veronica! Stop rambling," Mac choked out. "You're killing me here. What kind of parasite is it? What's going on?"
Inhaling deeply, Veronica prefaced, "Now, it's nothing too serious. Or bad. Some people actually celebrate these things. I wouldn't. I didn't. But, that's probably because I totally didn't plan this. And, this is so not how I pictured things. Still, don't freak out, Mac."
"Too late for that, don't you think?"
"Ha. Well… it's like this. That parasite has been growing inside me for a few months now, and in a few more months, my doctor said I'll be able to dress it up and take it out to meet other little parasites."
"Veronica, please," she begged. "No riddles."
"Okay…" Taking another deep breath, Veronica blurted, "Everyone who's pregnant raise their hands!"
Mac practically fell off her chair, dropping her phone, and consequently bumping her head on her desk when she bent down to pick it up.
"Hello? Still there, Mac?"
"Yeah," she breathed out. "Just processing."
"You got that I would have to raise my hand, right?"
"Yeah, I got it."
"Would this have worked better over Skype?"
"I don't think this would've worked better over anything short of… actually no, I can't think of anything, really. How did this happen?"
"Oh, you know, insert tab A into slot B type mechanics. It was fun, if that helps. Probably not comforting for you, though. My dad wasn't amused."
"Do you know whose it is?" She whispered cautiously.
"Oh yeah," Veronica said, laughing nervously.
"Logan?"
"Could be worse."
"Have you told him?"
"That would be the worst."
"But necessary."
"I know. I just haven't quite worked up the nerve yet. The last time I saw him was when he happened to be in my area and, well, he was really in my area, and I ended up with the parasite."
"How long have you known?"
"Oh, I'd say a week or so, give or take… two months?"
"Veronica!"
"I know. He'll know when I feel like he should. You're worse than my dad."
"Good, your dad knows. So at least one responsible adult knows."
"I just—I can't—he can't know, alright? Not yet."
"Why not? He's probably been hoping to knock you up since you finally told him you loved him that one time."
"Shh! I told you, we're… keeping things casual."
"And I suppose he went to Virginia for the great surfing?"
"We have a beach."
Mac rolled her eyes, knowing Veronica would feel at the other end of the line. "Tell him, Veronica. He deserves to know. He'd probably be very happy knowing."
"But what if he isn't? What if he doesn't want anything to do with me? Or us? Or it, her, him, I don't know, I can't find out yet."
Ah, there lies the crux of the situation. Veronica's old friend, insecurity, was back. Or, did it even leave? As one of Veronica's oldest and closest friend—Wallace can blow smoke all he wanted, it was true—, Mac still wasn't sure Veronica ever truly let someone in other than her father. Logan was the closest of them all, and that wasn't even enough to keep their many attempted relationships afloat.
"He will be, and he will. All of you," she said as assuredly as she could, trying to pass on her confidence in Logan to Veronica.
"I—I gotta go, Mac. Talk to you later."
"I'll be eagerly awaiting our next chat, Bond. But know this. This conversation's not over."
.
On the other side of the world, Logan tried his best to communicate with the locals using his rough Vietnamese. Thank goodness some of them had a fairly good grasp of the English language and were adequate enough charades players. Otherwise, he'd have had a frustratingly tough time with his philanthropy. Yes, philanthropy. Because when you have a lot of money that you didn't earn but came from someone else who didn't deserve it, you tended to want to spend it towards helping others.
Still, Logan felt it wasn't enough to just give his money away. That idea of throwing money at a problem to solve it just reeked of his father's mentality. Though, that didn't stop him from hosting dinner parties and such to milk his fellow rich for their money as well.
With the help of his lawyers and Mac, Logan found a humanitarian group which he spent his money and a lot of his time on.
He was particularly fond of this group because it focused on the children. Preserving childhood innocence and allowing kids to be kids but still preparing them for the real world were his main goals when he went on trips to the sites in Vietnam. Of course, that may have been something to do with how his own childhood was lacking to the point of nonexistence. Still, that was neither here nor there. He was there for the children, not to work out his inner demons. Working out—or rather, quieting the bastards—was more of a side benefit.
The other volunteers and associates were friends, he could even call some close friends, but there were things he never talked about. His past being one of them. His private life being the other.
On this particular trip, they were building one of many schoolhouses for the underprivileged children—of which there were many who didn't have access to a completely free education—in an impoverished neighborhood of southern Vietnam. The schoolhouse they were building would employ teachers paid through private funding, be stocked with all the necessities, and provide school supplies for the children who attended. He was working towards making the schoolhouse teach children up to at least sixteen years old, but he'd settle for kindergarten up to grade six for now. Baby steps.
"Logan! Get out of the way!"
Logan stopped himself and turned around to face the source of the voice, trying to understand what he was being told. He was still getting the hang out the language itself, and the regional accent of the local volunteers who helped them build the schoolhouse was making it somewhat harder to understand. Still, he caught his name among what he was sure was an order. But what? He also saw the man who called out to him rush towards him. Too late.
A hastily added wooden beam had gotten loose and chose Logan as its victim. And, it all went crashing down.
.
Veronica had been in Neptune for a fair amount of time. She expected Logan to pop up any time now. He usually did. Somehow, they'd just always end up seeing each other, either as a result of meddlesome friends or fate. At any rate, it happened, and Veronica was grateful for it.
He didn't this time, though. Not when she really wanted him to anyway.
"It's time," she said to herself suddenly, feeling an uncomfortable wetness between her legs. She had been sitting in her father's living room, under house arrest nearing so close to her due date; her father hadn't wanted to take any chances.
Sitting there, she herself had announced it, but she didn't quite believe it. Taking a moment to herself, she was prompted by a jolt of pain in her abdomen that she didn't have that moment. She needed to move now. Except, she couldn't move alone.
Her father, she had to call her father. And Mac. She was close enough to drive down. Oh, Wallace! He was even closer. But, he'd probably still be teaching. Still, he'd probably kill her if she didn't tell him anyway.
Mentally compiling a list of things to do, Veronica checked them off one by one after she completed them, working through the pain and waiting for her loved ones to come to her. All of them, she knew, would be by her side eventually. Save for one. Logan, Logan, Logan, her heart pounded as she breathed deeply in and out to stabilize herself.
Her father's swift appearance rescued her from having to think for herself as he ushered her to her rented SUV, lead foot on the gas pedal, running through the red lights.
A few trying hours in, they almost made it the entire way through without Veronica making noises other than pained grunts until Veronica realized, with her legs flat on the hospital bed and spread wide to deliver their baby, she really wanted him there.
Squeezing her father's hand even harder, she managed, "Call him, please."
"Of course, but I need some time to find his number. Just hold on if you can," Mac added with wide eyes. She was not ready for the reality that was a baby to come out of her best friend yet. It couldn't be true. They were too young. Too inexperienced. Too unprepared. Sometimes, sitting at her desk, doing things she shouldn't be doing for Veronica, she still felt like they were seventeen, not twenty eight.
Though, Keith would have preferred otherwise, there was no question as to whom he was. No one, except for the hospital professionals, wondered who he was, if they even did considering the job they were currently in the middle of doing. Like the understanding father he was, he squeezed back, casually pulling out his phone and handing it to Mac.
"He's listed under 'Jack.'" At Mac's perplexed expression, he muttered under his breath, "Last name, 'Ass.'"
.
Eyes closed, the tears didn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. It was the same in the end, and she really wished he were here right now.
"Did he pick up?" She asked in a small voice. She didn't even recognize it. Veronica was weak; more than that, she looked weak, something she hated and would rather die than appear as such. She found herself not caring, at the moment.
"No," Mac admitted. "The line's dead."
Veronica wailed harder at her words, pressing her palms against her eyes.
Her father stood mostly still by her side, not unaffected by his daughter's pain or what had happened. Just one arm of his was moving, rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles on her back while Wallace—who had arrived with a teddy bear and balloons that were hastily tossed out—held her other side.
Realizing the word she had just said, Mac backtracked quickly, losing control of her own motions. She tried hard to stay strong for her friend, she really did, but up until a moment ago, she was denying its existence and now… "I mean, out of service. Sorry! God! I am so sorry, Veronica."
She threw herself at the foot of Veronica's bed, begging forgiveness for so much.
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A/N: At the risk of divulging too much information… just curious, but how many of you guys are in California? If you are, and you think you've spotted me and want to chat, in your best impression of Clemmons (or not), just say, "I was wondering if I could have a word?" To which, I'll respond, "Anthropomorphic. All yours, big guy." And, then we go on our separate ways, I guess haha. Or, we could really chat. Always fun to meet fellow Veronica Mars fans, my friends are not nearly as into it as they should be. /pout.
So, to bring you all up to speed, it's approximately nine years after season three. Veronica and her peers are all about twenty eight or so. Veronica's working at the FBI, currently on leave. Wallace is a civil engineer who teaches at Hearst. Mac is Kane Software's Head of Internal Security. Yes, like how they were described in King of Mars' epilogue haha. Logan, however, is currently just a philanthropist. Keith is not the sheriff; he's a PI.
Fun fact: This was supposed to be a short oneshot. Oh, boy, was I mistaken. Silly, silly me. Still, definitely not going to be as long as King of Mars. (I will force it not to be that long because I just can't haha. Not now.) And, hopefully, it'll be finished before I start school again. ^^