Holiday Jailbreak

by CaitlynMacKenzie

It's a New Year's Eve party at the Mars/Echolls house and Veronica is hot on the tail of a four-legged culprit. (This oneshot takes place after A Wedding Story and before Espionage in my storyverse, but it can be read alone. It's also part of the Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2015 and a gift for Rottweilersatemylaptop). Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

HOLIDAY JAILBREAK

"Why are we having a party?"

"Asks the man who used to throw parties just because it was a Tuesday." Veronica finished cubing the smoked Gouda and added it to the platter.

"That's not true" —Logan tossed a piece of cheese in the air and caught it in his mouth— "They weren't just parties, they were must-attend social events."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed: "You had a party to celebrate the electricity crisis."

"Ah, my rolling blackout blow-out." He grinned. "That party was epic. It even had its own theme song." He sang the line, "Rolling with my homies."

"You stole that from Clueless."

A one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe if you and Lilly didn't make me watch it like a zillion times that summer, it wouldn't have been stuck in my head."

"As if." She smiled at the memory and Logan's obsession with both the movie and Alicia Silverstone. Veronica arched an eyebrow. "Is that where you get your love of girls in mini-skirts and knee-high socks?"

"Please, Veronica, that's known as having a Y chromosome."

The doorbell rang. "You get that; I want to check on Wyatt." She carried the cheese platter into the dining room and then went to look in on the baby.

Grandpa and Nana Dot had bought her a Winnie-the-Pooh fold-out sofa for Christmas and Veronica had made the mistake of letting Wyatt sleep on it that first night. Now it was the only place she wanted to go 'night-night.' Logan was probably right; it was time to get rid of the crib.

Wyatt was sprawled across the sofa on her back. Her new pink tutu —a present from Dick— was pulled over the fleece footed pajamas. Like the sleeping on the sofa, wearing the tutu was now a daily event.

Nails clacking on the hardwood floor and a playful, excited bark echoed in the hall behind her. Veronica spun around in time to see a blur of fur barreling toward her. Keith was hot on the dog's tail. "Partner, no!"

The puppy bounded past Veronica into Wyatt's room and jumped on the toddler couch. He licked the baby's face. Laying his head down with his front paws splayed, he raised his rump in the air and barked at Wyatt, ready to play.

As the baby rolled over, she murmured, "Puppy." Her eyelids fluttered and she started to stretch, trying to rouse herself from sleep.

Shit. Veronica fixed Keith with a hard stare and took hold of the dog's leash. "Come on, Partner," she coaxed in a whisper, but the dog wouldn't budge. "If you don't wake up the baby, there's a treat in it for you."

The word treat got his attention and he wagged his tail, but he still wasn't moving and Wyatt was rubbing her eyes. Veronica picked up the dog and was rewarded with her own face licks. Hustling from the room, she passed the twenty pound, wriggling Bullmastiff to her father.

"Have you enrolled him in obedience training yet?"

"I don't know, kiddo; those classes are really expensive" —Keith smiled— "And they didn't work when I tried them for you."

"Ha, ha." She stuck her head into Wyatt's room. The baby was now on her belly in almost the same position as the playful puppy- knees curled up, arms tucked beneath her body, and butt in the air. Crisis averted, Veronica pulled the door partially closed and followed Keith to the kitchen.

Logan was on his knees installing a pressure-mounted dog gate across the doorway and Dottie was loading trays of stuffed mushrooms into the oven. Logan pulled the lever on the gate and opened the walk-through door, testing his installation.

While it was open, Keith entered the kitchen and set Partner down in the middle of the floor. Taking the promised treat from his pocket, he held it in front of Partner, slightly over his head. "Sit," he said as he raised his arm. The puppy looked up at the treat, lowering his rump to the floor. "Good boy." Keith fed him the freeze-dried, liver treat and scratched behind Partner's ear. "See, you don't need obedience training, do you?"

Dottie looked at Veronica and said, "He's already chewed my favorite shoes, decided my coat makes a wonderful dog bed, and has claimed Keith's chair as his own. The gates are a necessity."

The doorbell rang and they filed out of the kitchen. Veronica snapped the gate closed behind them and Partner whimpered. "Sorry pal, you have to stay in puppy jail; I like my shoes."

Mac was at the door with her overnight bag, a bottle of bourbon, and the karaoke machine. "This" —she held up the bottle of Old Grand-dad— "is a prerequisite if you expect me to do this," she finished as she handed the karaoke machine to Logan.

"I don't know, Mac," he said as he studied the whiskey. "You may need more if you have to listen to me sing."

Wallace entered the house in time to hear the warning. He clapped Logan on the back. "I'll just hit you over the head with the bottle as a distraction and start a fight. Can't have a party without a drunken brawl, can we now?"

"Just do it before midnight, okay?" Logan smirked. "I have resolved to not hit anyone for the entire year."

Mac snorted on her way to the guest room to drop her bag and Wallace laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that." He slipped an arm around his date's waist, drawing her forward. "This is Monica, she teaches English at Neptune High."

"My condolences," Logan said as he shook her hand. "Not only do you have to work with Wallace, you have to put up with the 09ers."

Monica smiled. "They're not too bad, but this guy" —she nodded toward Wallace— "is a pest."

"Uh, I think you meant to say charmer," Wallace countered. The doorbell chimed and he reached for the karaoke machine. "I'll set this up for you; where do you want it?"

Logan shrugged. "That sounds like a decision and I'm not allowed to make those anymore- just ask my wife."

"Your wife" —Veronica hip-checked him on her way toward the front hall— "will remember you said that." She opened the door to reveal Dick; a statuesque brunette was by his side and a barrel was on his shoulder.

"The party pig rides again!" He grinned and took a sip off the hose dangling from said pig. "Happy New Year, Ronnie."

Veronica rolled her eyes and turned to his date. "You can come in, but" —she inclined her head at Dick— "Your pig stays on the porch."

He frowned at the insult. "Live a little Ronniekins, it's a party."

"We're adults now Dick, grownups."

"Adults drink from pigs, too." To emphasize the point, he took another sip. "You know, older doesn't have to mean OLD." Another grin. "Besides, if you don't let me in, I'm going to take my food with me."

Defeated by appetizers. Veronica stepped back to allow them entry. She held out her hand and introduced herself to his date, who supplied her name -Carina –before walking into the house. Placing a palm on Dick's chest, Veronica halted his progress. "Where's this food you speak of?"

A playful growl, followed by a 'Partner, no!' from Logan caused Veronica to drop her hand from Dick's chest and turn around. Clenched between the dog's teeth was a black piece of neoprene that looked suspiciously like Logan's favorite wetsuit. Her husband made a grab for it and Partner pranced away, shaking his head; the black wetsuit whipping back and forth.

"Don't try to pull it away," Keith cautioned. "He'll just think you want to play tug-of-war."

Lowering himself into a play bow, Partner released the wetsuit at his paws and barked at Logan. His tail wagged furiously while he waited for Logan to make a move. Her husband dove for one end of the suit and Partner snatched up the other. Man versus beast.

Keith intervened, trying to use this as a training exercise. "Drop it." The command went unheeded and Partner continued to yank at the suit.

Veronica sidled up to Dottie. "How'd he get out of the kitchen?"

She shrugged. "Your dad went to get the mushrooms. He must not have closed the gate all the way."

Another growl from Partner and a ferocious head shake and the arm ripped free. Logan fell back on his ass, holding the tattered sleeve. "You're lucky my daughter loves you," he muttered. "And that I love her more than this suit or you'd be toast."

Partner's tongue lolled from his mouth and Veronica laughed. "Clearly Partner thinks he can take you." Logan was not amused; he frowned at her.

Keith corralled the dog, shepherding him toward the kitchen and tossed the neoprene suit back to Logan. Dick snatched it out of mid-air, holding it up to survey the damage. "Dude, you can still totally wear this. Just tell people you survived a shark attack – they'll think you're bad ass."

"The bite radius of—" Logan shook his head. "You know what, Dick- it's all yours, have at it," he said, waving at the wetsuit as he stood. "Where's the poker table?"

"In the van with the food. Hey, Wally" —Dick elbowed Wallace— "Come help us carry in the appetizers." Tossing the wetsuit over his shoulder, he headed for the door. "What's the buy-in?"

"A grand," Logan answered, following him from the house. "I needed to convince Weevil to come; Veronica didn't want him to be alone for the New Year."

"You're not letting Ronnie play, right?"

The door closed before Logan answered, but Veronica hoped he smacked Dick in the back of the head for the 'let' comment. Still plenty of time until his New Year's resolution starts. A loud crash from the dining room interrupted her train of thought and Veronica raced inside.

Pepperoni and asiago pinwheels were scattered across the floor and Partner was hoovering them into his mouth, barely pausing to chew. Veronica grabbed the dog's collar. "Did somebody bake a nail file in your Milk Bones?"

The dog actually grinned at her.

"Good call feeding those to the dog, Ronnie- make room for the real food." Dick set down the two black thermal pan carriers he was holding. He'd already stopped by yesterday with the chafing dishes. They were lined up on the sideboard waiting to be filled. As Logan and Wallace brought in baskets of Portuguese sweet rolls for the pulled pork, a tray of spinach and bacon salad, and a crudités platter, Dick pulled out trays of short rib sliders, glazed chicken kabobs, and grilled veggie skewers.

Partner strained against her hold on his collar, trying to get closer to the food. "Don't even think about it," Veronica warned. "You're going back to the SHU." His tail started to wag in anticipation and she belatedly realized her poor choice of words. "Not that kind of shoe."

"I'll take him," Logan offered and she nodded.

"Then you can help me get everything else we'll need from the kitchen before I put it on lockdown. There will be no more escapes for our furry fugitive."

"See, chewing my stuff was one thing" —Logan scooped up the dog— "But you lost your shot at parole when you messed with her food." Partner chuffed and Logan pet his side. "She takes her food very seriously."

Veronica rolled her eyes. Logan's recent 'we should get a dog for Wyatt' campaign was obviously a poorly veiled attempt at getting himself a dog. He was practically cooing at Partner as he lavished attention on the dog- scratching behind his ears, kissing his snout, and rubbing his belly. Partner nuzzled Logan's neck and licked his face. "Do you two need a moment alone?"

"Uh-oh, I better put you down before she makes me stay in the kitchen too."

"I'll give you kibble and fresh water and, who knows, if you're really nice, Partner might share his chew toys." Veronica shook the gate and tested the latch. The lever mechanism was smooth and easy to pull. "Do you think he's pushing it open with his nose?"

She got down on the floor, eyeing the dog and the height of the gate. Partner mistook this as a sign that she wanted to play. Racing under the table, he retrieved his ball and brought it to Veronica, dropping it at her knees. When she didn't immediately pick it up, he barked at her and looked at the ball.

"This isn't play time" —Veronica tossed the ball across the room— "I'm investigating."

"Investigating?" Logan chuckled. "The Secret of the Canine Houdini? No wait, The Mystery of the Marauding Mastiff?"

"Keep it up and you'll be experiencing the case of the husband who sleeps on the couch." She tossed the ball again and stood. "Can you take down the rest of the punch cups?"

"And the champagne glasses too," Jake tacked on as he joined them in the kitchen, carrying a mesh bag of blood oranges and a bottle of Gramona Cava. "Happy New Year." He ducked his head and kissed Veronica's cheek.

"This is a nice surprise." She hugged him. "I thought you weren't coming? Something about it being too tame?"

"Too tame?" Logan smirked. "Or too Trina?"

Jake laughed at the accuracy of that statement. "Don't worry, I brought a date, figured that would slow her down." He opened the freezer, shuffled things around and started putting the champagne glasses inside to chill.

"She wouldn't even bat a fake eyelash," Logan responded with a slight head shake. "But she's not coming tonight- some big industry party in L.A." Suddenly, his chin jerked up and his head spun toward Jake. "Did you just say you brought a date?" Logan stared at him with wide-eyed amazement. "You brought a girl to meet your mother?"

"Relax Mouth; it's a party not a proposal." Jake tossed the last glass in the air, caught it and slid it between a bag of frozen peas and a box of popsicles. "And you married the only girl worth settling down for- intelligent, gorgeous, and she can bake."

Logan slipped his arm around Veronica's waist. "You forgot witty, fierce, and sexy as fuck." His hand moved over her ass.

She batted his hand away. "With this routine, I'm surprised you two ever found time to actually fly." They exchanged a look and Veronica shook her head. I don't want to know.

Jake took a chef's knife from the butcher block and started cutting the blood oranges in half. "Do you have a reamer?"

"Ream her? I don't even know her," Dick said as he sauntered into the kitchen, laughing at his own joke. "Nothing? Man, talk about a boring married couple- that joke was funny."

Ignoring him, Jake looked at Logan. "A citrus reamer?"

Veronica was sure the blank expression on Logan's face matched the one on her own and Dick shook his head. Crossing the room, he pulled open their silverware drawer and took out a beechwood tool with a pointed tip and ridged surface. He handed it to Jake. "I don't know why you two even have a kitchen," Dick scoffed.

A loud bang from the living room was followed by a shouted, "Sorry," from Wallace.

Veronica leaned over the gate and peered down the hall, waiting to see if the noise woke Wyatt. When there was no crying or calls for Mama, she pulled back. "Whew."

"Still sleeping?" Logan asked. She nodded and he wrapped his arms around her waist, rubbing her tummy. "And how are you feeling?"

Veronica rested against him. "Glad I took a nap."

"Are you hungry? I can make you a plate while you go see what Wallace broke?" He kissed her neck. "Macaroni and cheese with pancetta shooters? A pulled pork sandwich? Artichoke frizzles?"

"Yes, please." She sighed. "But first I have to bring everything we need inside so that one" —Veronica pointed to Partner— "stays put."

"We can do it."

"What we?" Dick asked, pausing in the middle of juicing an orange. "I'm a guest."

Logan flipped him the finger and turned back to Veronica. "You go sit and I'll get you food."

Hesitating, she stared at the dog who dropped his ball at her feet. Veronica scooped it up and tossed it on the other side of the island. With Partner distracted, she kissed Logan's cheek. "Remember to check both gates and don't forget to bring me stuffed mushrooms, too."

"One of every—" Veronica wiggled two fingers at him on her way from the kitchen. "Two of everything," Logan corrected. "Got it."

She peeked into the dining room. Her dad was filling his plate, studiously trying to ignore Dottie as she chatted with a willowy redhead who Veronica could only assume was Jake's date. At Keith's slight head shake of warning, Veronica silently backed away from the room. Not a chat, an interrogation.

Weevil and Wallace were standing in the center of the living room each with one hand on the poker table balanced between them. Veronica crossed the room and gave Weevil a one-armed hug. "When did you get here?"

"I pulled up while Wallace was struggling with this thing," Weevil said as he knocked on the folding wood table. "Where do you want it?"

Veronica looked around the room. Mac had set up the karaoke machine near the fireplace, connecting it to the television for the lyric display and surround sound. Just what we need. "Put it in front of the bookshelves," Veronica answered with a wave toward the spot. "I'll get the folding chairs."

"No, you won't." Logan passed her an overflowing plate. "I'll get the chairs."

Patience, Veronica. "Seriously? They weigh like five pounds." Logan just smiled at her protest, crossing to the mud room. "You know we will be discussing this later… at length," she called after him.

Mac, Weevil, and Wallace were all staring at her. Time for a subject change. Fortunately, Jake joined them carrying a tray of bright red cocktails garnished with slices of the blood orange. Wallace took two, bringing one of them to Monica and both Mac and Weevil passed in favor of 'real drinks.'

As Jake set the tray on the coffee table, a fawn-colored blur rushed him. Ball firmly clenched in his mouth, Partner jumped on Jake who had the audacity to laugh at the furry fiend's antics. He glanced at Veronica. "We bonded in the kitchen." Bending at the waist, he scratched behind Partner's ear and wrested the ball from his jaw.

The dog dropped his front paws to the floor and spun around, waiting for Jake to throw the ball. Veronica saw the looming disaster seconds before it happened. "Partner, no."

His tail whacked the tray of champagne flutes sending them cascading to the floor with a loud crash. Cava and juice dripped from the broken shards, soaking the area rug and the one unscathed flute rolled toward the fireplace. Instead of throwing the ball, Jake quickly lifted the puppy from the floor so he wouldn't cut his paws on the shattered glass.

Everyone converged on the mess. Logan stacked the folding chairs against the wall and went back to the mud room for the vacuum. Jake headed for the kitchen with the dog, followed by Dottie and when they returned —without Partner— they were carrying a broom and dust pan, towels, and a spray bottle. Veronica left them to it and went to make sure the noise didn't wake the baby.

On her way, she jiggled the wide gate between the kitchen and living room. It didn't have a walk-through gate and Logan did a good job with its pressure-mounted installation, creating a snug, tight fit in the doorway. No way was Partner escaping from here.

Veronica checked the other gate. The latch was firmly closed and Partner was safely on the correct side. He was sprawled across the hardwood floor, clutching a bully stick between his paws and chewing its end. He didn't even look up when she rattled the gate. "Sure you look innocent and content now, but I'm wise to you, my tail-wagging nemesis."

Releasing the bone, Partner turned his head and yawned at her.

Shaking her head, she continued down the hall to Wyatt's room. The baby was on her back, lying half-on and half-off the toddler couch with her arms and legs flung open and Cuddles pinned beneath her knee. Veronica considered moving her and then thought better of it. Best to let sleeping dogs —and babies— lie.

Veronica stopped in her office for a pad and pen. When she returned to the living room, the mess was cleaned and order restored. Everyone was gathered around the fireplace with full plates and the karaoke machine was on and waiting. Logan was reading song titles. "It Was a Very Good Year by Ol' Blue Eyes?"

"What are we eighty?" Dick complained and then glanced at Keith and Dottie. "No offense."

Veronica grabbed the winter berry snowman bowl from the hall table and sidled up to the couch next to Logan.

"Decisions, decisions." Logan looked up from the song list. "Do I go with Old Time Rock and Roll or You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling?"

"What have I told you about you and Tom Cruise?" Veronica sliced her hand across her neck. "Besides, you don't get to pick your own song," she said as she snatched the list from his fingers.

He turned to Wallace with a smirk. "See I told you, the little woman makes all my decisions now."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "We're each going to write down a song and the person we want to sing it and put it in the bowl." She tapped her chin, studied him for minute, and then whispered in Wallace's ear. "What do you think? A little Shania Twain's Man, I Feel Like a Woman?"

Laughing, Wallace rubbed his hands together and nodded. "This is going to be good."

"Let me see," Jake said. He peered over Veronica's shoulder just in time to see her write Logan's name beneath the song choice and fold the slip of paper. He laughed. "That's perfect. Oh, and how about this one?" Jake took the pad and pen from her. Writing down Logan's name he added the song I Feel Pretty and showed it first to Veronica and then to Wallace. The three of them cackled.

"It's my turn now," Logan said as he took the pad. "And just remember payback is a bitch."

"But which one of us are you going to get even with?" Veronica batted her eyes at him. "You're only allowed one choice."

Logan looked at Mac. "I will give you five hundred dollars if you let me have your turn."

"You're on" —Mac grinned— "But you have to let me help you pick the song."

"Mac!" Veronica admonished, aghast.

At the same time Wallace said, "Oh, I see how it is."

Logan and Mac ignored them, putting their heads together and furiously whispering back and forth. Mac clapped a hand over her mouth, holding in the laughter and nodded. A dopey grin spread across Logan's face as he filled out the two slips of paper. Folding them in half, he dropped them in the bowl. He turned his head and searched the room, his gaze landing on Weevil. "I will cover your poker buy in, if you let me have your karaoke pick."

"No dice." Weevil shook his head. "I have this urge to see Casablancas sing Dancing Queen."

"Worth it- I will totally rock that song," Dick said as he took the pen and pad from Logan. He sized up Mac and grinned.

"Whatever you're thinking -don't do it," Mac warned him.

Dick's grin widened and he winked at her. "Can we suggest props, too?"

"Props?" Logan's gaze raked over Veronica, eyes gleaming. "Somebody give me their pick" —he searched for a likely candidate and landed on Wallace's date— "What do you say, Monica- can I have your pick?"

"I think it depends... on what song you chose for my date."

"Look at my girl, trying to protect me."

"Hardly," Monica scoffed. "I want to make sure it's embarrassing enough."

"It is," Logan confirmed.

Wallace let his mouth drop open in mock outrage. "Give me that pad."

He reached for it and Logan blocked his arm. "Not so fast- Monica?" Wallace's date nodded her consent and Logan took the pad from Dick. He dipped the pen on his tongue and waggled his eyebrows at Veronica before starting to write. "Britney Spears, Baby One More Time, while wearing a school—"

"Father-in-law," Veronica cut him off, nodding her head toward her dad.

Keith tossed up his hands. "Don't drag me into this one, kiddo; you're the one who turned harmless fun into something evil."

"If by evil you mean genius," she said.

"Don't listen to him Veronica, a haters gonna hate, hate, hate," Dottie said with a grin, batting her eyes at Keith and holding out her hand for the paper and pen.

Keith grimaced. "No, Dot."

She patted his cheek. "Just shake it off, honey." After writing down her selection, Dot held the paper in front of his face and deliberately folded it in half before tossing it in the bowl.

"I need that list," Keith said as he pointed to the song selections Veronica had tossed on the coffee table and Jake handed it to him with an evil grin directed at his mother.

The bowl made the rounds to the only people who hadn't either taken their turn or given away their picks. True to his word, Weevil made Dick sing ABBA and then Carina had him do Single Ladies.

It was truly impossible to embarrass Dick. He pushed the coffee table out of the way to make space for his 'killer dance moves' and then j-setted his way around the living room, hip-shaking, body-popping, and pump walking.

"Well, I won't be doing any of that," Mac said drily as she got up to sing I Kissed a Girl.

Wallace followed it up with It's Raining Men and then it was Jake's turn to sing Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out for a Hero. Veronica snorted as Jake dropped to his knees in front of Logan and serenaded him with the chorus: I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night; he's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast and he's gotta be fresh from the fight.

"Partner, no!" Dottie cried, jumping up from the couch and racing across the room.

The dog made another leap for one of the remaining gingerbread men at the top of the Christmas tree and his mouth closed around a strand of lights. Without letting go of the wire, he landed on his feet, pulling the tree down with him. The men scrambled from the couch, rushing to save the ornaments and free the barking puppy from the evergreen boughs.

"That's it, dog," Veronica snapped. "You and me have a little date with some surveillance equipment."

"Veronica Mars: bested by a four-legged—"

She glared her husband into silence and carried Partner back to the kitchen. "It's nice in here, right? You've got your bone and your chew toys and a warm rug to shed all over, so why can't you just stay here?"

Partner dropped to the floor and rolled on his back. His tail beating a steady -pet me, pet me, pet me- rhythm on the ground. Relenting, Veronica scratched his belly until she found the magic spot that made his leg start twitching and kicking. "You're going to be a good boy and stay in the kitchen, okay?" Thump, thump, thump went the tail. "But just to make sure…"

Veronica retrieved the Dropcam camera from its normal place on the hutch and put it on the counter closest to the doorway. She tilted the base until the wide-angle lens was focused on the gate. Leaving the kitchen, she got the iPad from her office and accessed the Dropcam software, ensuring that she had a full view of the kitchen, gate, and hallway. She set the motion alert and turned the sound up. "Your days are numbered, Fido."

Carrying the iPad into the living room, she found Dottie and Monica fixing the ornaments on the Christmas tree; Mac, Carina, and Jake's date, Nikki, were at the makeshift bar watching Jake mix Irish Car Bomb shots, and the rest of the guys were gathered around the poker table buying chips. "Uh, I don't think so," Veronica said as she slapped the lid to the box of poker chips closed.

"Fingers, darling," Logan said, wiggling them at her. "I will need them for later." A suggestive wink and then his hand was sliding up the back of her thigh.

She squeezed his fingers tight, stopping their climb. "First, there's no way you're playing poker without me and second, we weren't done with karaoke."

"Dude, I told you she wouldn't let you off the hook." Dick's tone and smile were both smug. "Let's go hear you sing about your milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard," he said, pushing back from the table.

Wallace laughed. "Or your lovely lady lumps."

Veronica snickered and Logan groaned, but he really delivered during his rendition of Shania, tossing his hair and batting his eyes at Veronica. "The best thing about being a woman is the prerogative to have a little fun."

"Blackmail," Mac said, grabbing the iPad from Veronica and pressing record. "I have my eye on this new 3D printer." She continued to record for Keith's rendition of Taylor Swift. "For when I want a raise," she explained.

The next slip of paper bore Veronica's name and Mac flipped the iPad case closed. Logan shook his head, holding out his hand. "Give it here."

Veronica watched her best friend hand over the tablet without even putting up a mild protest. "Traitor."

Mac shrugged off the accusation. "We are so far beyond that at this point."

Logan pushed Dick out of the way and sat in the middle of the couch, front and center for Veronica's performance. Turning her back to him, she grabbed the edges of her shirt and tied them together, exposing her midriff. As the music started she leaned over Logan to whisper in his ear, "Stop recording and I'll do it for you later with the ponytails and miniskirt."

He snapped the case closed.

"You're so easy," she laughed.

Midway through her very toned-down Britney impersonation, Logan walked from the room, smiling at the reopened tablet screen.

As the music ended, he poked his head around the wall. "Uh, Nancy Drew" —he beckoned her forward— "I think I've found The Clue in the Doggie Gate… cracked The Case of the Invisible Accomplice."

Veronica rolled her eyes, but met him in the hall. The gate was wide open and Partner was missing. Logan handed her the iPad and tapped play. The Dropcam video rolled for a few seconds and then a pajama-clad Wyatt appeared in the frame. With ease, the baby lifted the lever on the gate and Partner greeted her arrival with giggle-inducing face licks.

"Come, me," Wyatt said, opening and closing her fingers to coax the dog to follow her. Together, toddler and puppy padded down the hall and out of camera range.

Veronica looked up from the screen. Logan was waiting for her outside of Wyatt's bedroom door. Shaking her head, she joined him. Partner was sleeping across Winnie-the-Pooh and Wyatt was sleeping across Partner.

She grinned. "Guess that solves the Riddle of the Holiday Jailbreak."