Story: Serial in Neptune
Chapter Title: Approaching Storm
Content: Warning contains violence
Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars or any of its characters
Plot: There is a serial killer in Neptune and Veronica stumbles on the case. Story takes place after the series final. Veronica and Logan eventually
"Approaching Storm"
September 6th 2008 (Present Day)
He just had to be patient and wait. After all, patience was a virtue any good hunter needs. If you move too quickly you're prey will catch on and escape. That was not an outcome that he wanted. He had spent too much time studying his targets, and this pair excited him. There was so much potential between the two of them for his little experiment and this time he got it right. He hated it when they failed him, but you can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs first. Failure was an integral element of advancement. It was part of the nature of man to learn the best when faced with the truth of a failure, and he certainly had some of those. Still . . . watching them from the back seat of his car through his binoculars, he knew that this time he had chosen correctly.
They were so cute and innocent with hands intertwined like the lovers they were. The expression of love was unmistakable on their faces. He had been studying the pair long enough to know their routine by heart. After their weekly diner out at Louis's Restaurant the couple would walk across the street for some frozen yogurt followed by a walk through the park. As he watched, that feeling deep down in the pit of his stomach began to grow. Soon, very soon.
This is what he lived for . . . the hunt and thirst for knowledge. He wanted to understand and dissect them until they revealed their secrets. All year round he waited in anticipation for September; the beginning of his hunting season. He was always saddened when December came to a close and he put away all his toys for another year. Sighing, he packed away his binoculars in the black leather case they came in knowing he needed to get ready for the next stage.
The early September air is cooler than I expected considering it's usually hot in Neptune this time of the year. There was enough chill in the air to make me put on my favorite olive colored jacket over my blue and black stripped shirt. It's the first day back of my second year at Hearst College. Spending the summer in New York working with the FBI had been far less of the exciting inside job I had hoped it would be. Instead, the copy machine and I got rather cozy and I learned that FBI agents like their coffee thick as tar. Early on in the summer as a side project, I had done some PI work and managed to catch William Coffer a well known cocaine dealer and pimp in the act in Brooklyn. In reality, the FBI had been less than pleased with my display of initiative than I thought they would be. You think they would have been grateful that I put a criminal behind bars. The director of the internship had threatened to send my petite ass home early if I so much as looked into a speeding ticket. I played nice for the rest of the summer, but now I felt uncertain if the FBI was the right path for me. There were rules to being in the FBI; I'm not really a rule follower. I'm Veronica Mars, a girl who lives for chasing down the truth, rules be damned.
Dad is worried that one of these days I am going to drop the dream of being an FBI agent all together in favor for the freedom that PI work has. Dad wants something more for me than his life. Currently, Dad and I are going through a rough patch. He lost the election to Vinnie Van Lowe, and we both know it's because he had destroyed evidence that I broke onto Kane property. We rarely speak anymore. Being away in New York all summer didn't help; neither did getting in over my head again. Dad had been even more furious at me for pursuing William Coffer. Now, everything that's not being spoken between us keeps getting bigger and bigger. One of these days it's going to burst and spew gooey badness all over our relationship. Either that or the gaping chasm between us will get so big that we won't know how to cross it.
The problems with my Dad have been weighing heavily on my mind, but I cannot think about that now. Fixing our relationship is going to take time, and I know that. I've screwed up a time or two and Dad is no longer quick to forget. I cost him big this time . . . his dream to be Sheriff again. I can click my ruby red heals all I want and rub an oil lamp or two, but I cannot take back what happened. At the same time though, I'm hurt that he's giving me the Antarctic shoulder.
For now, I have to focus on school. Today is a new beginning and a chance for a new Veronica. I'm free and single, having broken up with Piz in the middle of my internship. After the fight between him and Logan things were never the same between us. I stopped pretending we had a future and so did he. Now were friends . . . awkward friends, but it was something. I tried to move on . . . what can I say? I've always been a get back on the horse kind of girl. I started to see this guy named Josh Stewart, who was also in my FBI internship program. The relationship never even made it off the ground and instead crashed and burned like so many others before it. He just reminded me too much of a certain bad boy from my past and I just couldn't take it. Now I'm going to walk the single line for a while. The drama of dating simply isn't worth it; frankly my heart just isn't into it either.
"Veronica! Veronica!" my name is called somewhere behind me.
Smiling, I turned to see my long time friend, Mac, running to catch up.
"Hey, Mac-attack. How have you been? Hack into the CIA lately?" Mac smiles; amused by my joke. I wonder if she really has managed to hack into the CIA. I wouldn't put it past her capabilities.
"Of course, their security is a piece of cake," Mac scoffs. I nod, but most of my mind is taking in the subtle differences in my best girl friend. Mac seems more mature somehow, less teen and more of a maturing strong woman. "So, Bond, glad to be back at old Hearst college?"
I shrug, "Yeah, what can I say, I knew the place wouldn't be the same without me. Who would catch all the rapists, cheaters, murderers, and the occasional dog-nappers?"
Mac laughs, "I've missed you Veronica. It was boring all summer without you. So, how did it go with the FBI? Did you catch any other drug lords?"
"Apparently, the FBI does not appreciate a nineteen year old girl having a notorious cocaine dealer on the run for years being caught with a simple pretend phone call from a stripper named Mindy. I had to sit on my hands and make copies and coffee for the rest of the summer after my little bust. It was boring really. So, are you headed for class?"
"Actually, I'm going to grab a bite to eat with Max. My next class is in an hour, computer graphics. I had Western Civilization this morning. You?"
"Criminal Behavior in the United States in ten minutes," I announces after checking my watch.
"Sounds like your kind of class. Have you heard from Wallace yet?" Mac asks and shifts her shoulder bag, which is loaded down with books much like my own.
"His flight gets in tonight. The first one got canceled for some reason." Wallace's Mother had called me yesterday to say he was delayed.
"Okay, I hope he had a good time in Africa. We'll, I'll let you get to class. It would be bad to be late on the first day," Mac says and then ways goodbye heading in the direction of the cafeteria.
Sighing, I pack up my laptop while all my fellow students copy me in a mad rush to get out the door. It's the first day, and Professor Kindren has already assigned a paper due next week. Just as I'm questioning my chosen major, he has to come along and demand a three page paper explaining why I chose Criminology as my major. Thanks Professor, really. Do I tell him about Lilly and how her death drove me to find her murderer? Scratch that, too personal. How about that my Dad is a PI and so am I? No, not really. I shake my head as I follow the others out of the big lecture room.
All I know is one class down and I'm already ready to go home. Too bad I have to go to my second job, the one at the Library. After that I have Greek Art, a mandatory class, and then I'm free. I weave in and out of buildings being somewhat aware of my surroundings, but still in a daze deep in thought. At least I'm not getting the stares and whispers that plagued me before summer started. No more cheerleading jokes or lewd innuendoes by gross perverse guys. It seems that my video with Piz has long been forgotten. Sure, I occasionally get the "you look familiar, but I can't quite place you" stare, but it's better than hushed tones and giggles.
The wind pushes against me and I momentarily pause enjoying the sensation on my back . . . and then I see him. Despite my efforts to keep my head down before either being spotted or spotting anyone, I see him. It's like I have radar or something. Logan Echolls. How can one person invoke so much emotion, pain, and longing? He haunts me just as much as Lilly's ghost had before I solved her death, only this is worse. Logan Echolls wasn't a case to solve because I had already figured it out. We were destined to be together in an endless nauseating cycle, like riding the teacups at the carnival over and over. At first it's all fun and games . . . and then you just want to get off and go up-chuck your corndog in the nearest trashcan. Logan and I were doomed to date, fight, break up, date other people, break up with them, and then date again. Every time we tried to leave each other behind we inevitably wound up back together like two magnets. Logan knew we were destined before I did; he called us epic. So far we've been living up to the name.
I've tried to date other men . . . safe men. You know the type: dependable, stable, and boring . . . like Piz. He's a sweet guy meant to date a sweet girl. I've been accused of a lot of things, but "sweet-good girl" I am not. I'm the rule breaker blond with pack of enemies in my wake and trouble as a middle name. Logan, well he's a great guy, but he's no boy scout. Logan Echolls lives to the beat of his own drum and follows his own quirky of-the-beaten-path. We are one and the same in many ways. Perhaps that's why we are so drawn together . . . two twin souls. Or maybe it's our past thick with history. Lilly's death bonded us in a way that no one else could ever touch upon.
Like Mac, he too has changed over the summer months. Somehow Logan looks older, but more haunted then mature. He has more facial hair than the last time I saw him . . . not enough for it to be considered a beard, but just enough to make him look rugged. A brief image of Logan when we were sixteen flashes through my mind . . . the boy he was then compared to the man I see across the quad. He doesn't see me or anyone for that matter. Usually Logan walks with his head held high . . . daring anyone to try and test him. Today, he just looks tired. I wonder what happened over the course of the summer to give him that look. We have not spoken since that day in the cafeteria. A part of me wants to cross the distance between us and fix all his problems. I have always wanted to save him. I believe psychologists call that a savior complex, but I know he's always tried to save me too.
Someone calls him name somewhere to my left, and Logan jerks his head up looking for the caller. Instead, spots me. I stare back like a deer caught in the headlights unable to look away. His eyes burrow into mine so intensely it's almost as if he's touching me. I know him so well that I know exactly what his eyes are saying . . . I'm sorry. I've missed you. Please forgive me. It's just too much. If I don't leave now I'll be late for work. Logan's gaze sifts away from me as Dick finally catches up to him. I take the moment to slip away, ducking into the building next to me. Yep, still plenty of drama there. It's hard to stay away from Logan . . . that whole magnetic attraction, but I'm tired to riding the teacups round-and-round in circles. I honestly just want to get off.
It's seven at night before I've parked my Saturn outside of the Fennel house. The exhaustion I had been feeling towards the end of my Greek art class has faded and replaced with excitement. I feel a bounce in my step as I walk up and knock on the door. I have missed Wallace over the summer while he was in Uganda. We spoke only once during the summer since calling the US is hard. I am proud of him, but I'm also happy to have him home.
The door opens and I am greeted by Alicia's smiling face. "Veronica!" She quickly ushers me inside.
"Well if it isn't Veronica Mars," Wallace says to me from the couch grinning ear to ear as he quickly stands.
"Who is this man? Look at you all grown," I say to him and quickly cross the distance to give my best friend a huge hug. It seems that everyone around me has changed over the summer, and Wallace is no different. He's taller than I last remembered making me suddenly more aware of my height-deficiency. I wonder if I've changed too.
"V, either I've grown or you've shrunk."
I simply smile at him. "Well now you're being mean to me when I have presents for you." I dig around in my shoulder bag and pull out a plain manila folder and hand it to him along with a green tin.
"What's this?" He sounds cautious . . . oh how well my BF knows me.
"Well, I didn't want you to get behind so I took the liberty to track down all your professors today and get you the syllabuses and notes that you missed. The tin contains your favorite cookies. Welcome back, buddy."
"Thanks, V." Wallace gives me another quick hug. A second later he opens the tin and begins going to town on the snicker doodles I baked him.
"You hungry, Veronica?" Alicia asks. I turn to answer and finally notice that my Dad is standing next to her. My mouth hangs open for a moment as I try to process. Dad has been avoiding me like the plague since I came home from New York. I thought he was out of town on an infidelity case, but I guess I'm not privy anymore to updates on his whereabouts. The fact that he came home without telling me stings a little.
"Oh, nope, I actually ate," My Dad finally looks over at me and gives me a slight nod. I try to smile, but I'm sure it comes off as more of a grimace. Turning back to my best friend I can see it in his eyes that he knows Dad and I are not talking.
"Hey, V . . . would you mind giving me a hand with something?" Wallace asks. He gets up off the couch and heads for his room knowing I would follow.
I spare a glance back at my Dad, but he's now talking to Alicia. I can tell they are quietly arguing from their tense poses. Feeling a pang in my chest, I quickly leave heading for Wallace's room. When I get there my best friend is sitting on his bed patiently waiting for me.
"So . . . you care to tell me what's going on? My Mom said you and your Dad aren't talking." He's blunt, which is something I can appreciate. Wallace and I are past avoidance in our friendship.
"Yeah . . . well . . ." I stumble not knowing where to start. Wallace pats the bed next to him and I walk over and sit down. "You know that my Dad lost another election?" He nods. "You know that it was sort of my fault . . ." Wallace's eyes light up with understanding.
"He blames you." It's a statement and not a question.
"That's not all . . . I got into a big of a mess during my internship. I took down a drug dealer and the FBI threatened to ship me home. They called Dad . . . and he really didn't take it well. We had a huge fight . . . something about me always sticking my nose into places it doesn't belong and that one of these days it would get me in over my head." I leave out the part where Dad said that I only ever think of myself and never the consequences that my actions may have on others. "Since then . . . he hasn't hardly spoken to me at all."
"I'm sorry V . . . that sucks." Wallace gives my shoulder a quick squeeze.
"Oh . . . and in case you didn't know Piz and I broke up. We're going to be friends though, so you don't have to worry about it being awkward with him being your roommate again this year."
"I figured you two wouldn't last . . . no offense."
I shrug, "None taken. If I had been more honest with myself I would have seen it too. So, now I'm going to be single and have a hundred cats. What do you think of my plan, Wally?"
"Well first off don't call me Wally . . . and second I thought you didn't like cats being a dog person an all."
"Enough about me how was Uganda?" I smile as his eyes light up.
"It was amazing and so unlike anything I've ever experienced. It's like a whole different world there V. On the one hand the land and country is beautiful, but on the other what's going on there is so ugly and horrific. It's really hard to describe."
"How did the project go? Did you finish the school?"
"Yep, I, Wallace Fennel, helped build a school. Of course a lot of the foundation was there when we started. It's amazing how quickly we were able to build. The school is opening in two weeks. I wish I could have been there to see it."
"Well I'm proud of you Fennel," I tell him and give him another hug.
"Thanks, supafly," he says and I can't help but laugh. That nickname always tickled my funny bone. I don't let go of Wallace instantly. I'm not a big hugger, but I have been so lonely without him or my dad. "V?" His voice is tense and worried. My eyes tear up and I hug him tighter as if that could banish the tears.
We sit there for a few minutes. It's quiet except for my sobbing. Eventually, I pack all my emotions back inside. I put away each layer of hurt and pain until all I'm left with is my mask. When it's fully back in place I pull out of Wallace's arms. I wipe away at my eyes hating having anyone see me cry, but comfortable that if someone has to see it at least it's my best friend.
"I'm okay now. Thanks, Wallace. You're a good friend."
"Any time Veronica."
"I should get going. I'm sorry to leave so soon," I say as I get to my feet.
"Don't worry about it. I'll walk you to your car."
I nod as we exit his room. When we get to the kitchen only Alicia is there doing the dishes. She glances at me once. Her eyes are full of sadness for me, and it's too much to bear. I look away and walk faster out the door while mumbling goodnight to her. I don't say anything or glance back at my best friend trails behind me.
"Goodnight, V" he says as I pull the door of my car open.
I force a smile on my face. "Night . . . and welcome back to Neptune, Wallace." He gives me a two fingered salute as I climb into the car and drive away.
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