A/N: The story – originally intended to be part of my "Flash in the Pan" series – turned out to be a lot longer than expected, so I split it up into chunks because I felt like it was too long to read in one sit down. Of course, that's the type of reader I am, so naturally I imposed my will upon the rest of you.

Inspiration: "Rolling in the Deep" & "Rumor Has It" by Adele

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies – Aristotle

I stepped off the plane and slowly walked up the gangplank towards the waiting area. I wasn't looking forward to seeing my father, no matter how much I missed him, because I still hadn't told him about the bulge. Er, baby. In the end I couldn't go through with an abortion, though it wasn't for any religious or even moral reasons. It just felt like it would create a third strike on the cosmic scoreboard and I really would be out of the game; there's no real tangible reason, but I woke up one morning with Lilly's voice in my ears telling me this was my last chance to get it right.

Get what right, I had no clue, but more than a decade after her death, I dutifully followed her advice and canceled my appointment. I knew I needed to inform Ted of his upcoming fatherhood, but I developed a sudden allergy to using my phone for personal reasons and avoided the subject of motherhood with everyone. Now, walking towards the baggage claim, I realized this wasn't the best plan since my nearest and dearest would soon know; being as tiny as I am, even a four month bulge was very noticeable unless bundled up. While that worked in New York due to the temperatures, I knew November in sunny California would make my parka unnecessary. Maybe they'll think I just gained a lot of weight?

"Veronica Mars."

His voice was warm and whiskey-rough as always and my skin rippled with gooseflesh, peaking my nipples beneath the three layers I wore. The doctor told me increased sexual sensitivity was a normal reaction in some women and apparently I'm one of the lucky ones. Or it could just be him. He's always had this control over my body which used to terrify me back in the good bad ole days of sexual repression and dysfunction. He was probably the best lover a girl with my past could have because he was patient and gentle when I needed, and hard and fierce when I wanted.

"Logan Echolls as I live and breathe! Like, oh my god, can I get your autograph?"

My breathless impression of a star-struck fan amused him enough to curve his lips into a half-smile, but his chocolate eyes were assessing my body with clinical detachment. I self-consciously crossed my arms across my belly, then flushed when a dark brow flicked upward in contempt. I turned my back to him and watched the spinning carousel for my bags, waiting for him to walk away and do whatever it was that brought him to the airport, though it was a little strange for him to be here in the arrivals section instead of departure.

"I'm here to pick you up, Ronnie. Your dad had an emergency and I was the only one who was free."

I faltered as I reached for my bag, almost tipping over, but his hands on my waist steadied me. His touch tightened as he reeled me back, then his long arm retrieved my bags before they spun away. I still had the same luggage set my dad bought me for a long-ago trip to New York so I wasn't surprised he knew they were mine. I mumbled thanks and tried to free the handles from him, but he stepped back and nodded towards the exit.

"Since when are you and my dad chummy?"

I knew I looked ridiculous with my hands on my hips, especially given I was dressed like a miniature Stay Puff Marshmallow man, but I feared getting into a vehicle with him given my crazy hormones. Logan the boy always looked good, but Logan the man was amazing: his long legs were encased in black slacks, a green pull over sweater brought out the darkness of his eyes, and his honey blond hair had darkened to a light brown which was cut short. His skin wasn't the rich teak of long lazy hours spent in the sun, but the golden bronze implied he was still a beach boy beneath the more conservative clothing. I had felt the strength of his upper body in the brief moment of disorientation and smelled the expensive cologne he wore. He looked nothing like the boy I loved for so long and tears suddenly filled my eyes as I finally grasped exactly what I'd done when I'd run away years ago. It was one thing to see him electronically and quite another to see him in person.

"Ronnie," the helpless tone of a man unprepared for tears. "Are you mad? I know we haven't talked in a while, but I figured you wouldn't mind me picking you up. Especially since Keith doesn't know about..."

It was a measure of my muddled thinking – pregnancy brain a friend termed it jokingly – that the only thing I latched onto was the fact he called my dad by his first name. In our teen years, it was always "Sheriff" or "Dude," and when we dated in college, "Mr. Mars." I knew it was stupid of me to think everything would be the same when I came home, but this moment was a glaring reminder of how much things had changed. Dad would never let Logan call him "Keith" unless he respected him, and Logan would never dare to do so unless invited, even privately to me. I had missed so much of their lives being on the other side of the country, and now I felt like an interloper. Dad never mentioned spending time with Logan and vice versa. Of course, both would probably (and rightly) assume I'd freak out about them connecting without me to run interference; I shifted uneasily at the memories of the few dinners with the three of us and how uncomfortable they all were.

"Are we now doing the silent treatment? Jesus, Ronnie, I'm sorry I thought I'd help out."

I blinked when I realized we were in the parking garage of the airport, standing before a black sleek car I'd never seen before. I vaguely remember Logan talking about finally giving up Big Yellow, but it never registered until now. It definitely seemed as if all traces of my Logan were gone.

"What? No. Damn hormones. Yeah, thanks. Is Dad okay?"

He chuckled at my disjointed reply and automatically opened my car door for me, refraining from answering me until he'd put my bags in the trunk and he sat in the driver's side. Logan was the only guy I knew who was unthinkingly courteous like that, a direct influence of his long-deceased mother. It was one of the few traits of hers I could think about fondly. I had never expressed my anger and disgust at her distance and indifference to her son's situation because of how much Logan revered her after her death. I knew he harbored his own anger towards her, but it was buried beneath his lethal rage towards his father, so he probably didn't realize it existed. If it still did; I didn't know this incarnation so perhaps he'd gotten therapy like I did and worked out his parental issues. I wanted to ask but knew it wasn't my business any more.

"He's fine. It's just the annual PCH Bike Rally, but it was bigger than anticipated, so he felt he needed to go up to the Ridge with a few of the deputies to keep an eye on the bikers. You know, make sure they don't get out of hand."

Dad was reinstated as Sheriff nearly two years after losing to Vinnie Van Low, when it was discovered what close ties the former slimy PI had with the Irish mob. He'd held onto the post ever since and it was something I was really relieved about because it was my fault he lost it in the first place. It only seemed fitting he was residing over the town he gave blood, sweat, and tears to for so many years in both public and private ways. I squirmed a little as my own culpability in some of his troubles flashed through my head, like the scenery out the window as we started the drive through LA towards Neptune.

"I'm not mad, I'm just surprised you're still in town. I figured you'd be in Portland already."

I saw a familiar motion from the corner of my eye and turned my head to see him ruffling his hair with his hand. It was a sure sign of uneasiness, something I was surprised to see. Apparently not all of my Logan was gone.

"Uh, yeah, about that..."

I turned enough so I could prop my back against the window and face him almost squarely. Little by little, the careful illusion of a different man were eroding as he continued to reveal bits of the boy I knew. He only used this tone when he was trying to figure out a way to lie; we both were accomplished liars, but strangely never to each other, probably because of the deep and rich history between us precluded the ability to fully hide when we'd already exposed so much. At least when we were together and could see as well as hear; over the phone, it was a different story.

"Spit it out."

The suspense was eating at me because I sensed a story behind the white-lipped silence now weighing heavily on us. Our conversation so far was conducted in fits and starts, but this would probably open the flood-gates.

"Samantha gave me an ultimatum: either you or her. Since I didn't answer her right away, she uninvited me to her parents for Thanksgiving."

The bottom of my stomach dropped away at the thought of him being forced to choose. It was without a doubt going to be her; he hated being pushed into the corner and was contrary enough to do the exact opposite just to piss the person off, but it didn't necessarily mean he didn't agree. He'd just wanted to get to the same conclusion on his terms. It was something that had always angered me about him, but now it scared me; even when I told him years ago he was out of my life for good, I hadn't actually meant it. It was just a knee-jerk reaction to the situation at the time and shortly thereafter we were back together as a couple, proving I didn't always follow through with my convictions. Logan, on the other hand, never issued a warning or threat lightly.

"But why? She had to know you were close to proposing. Every girl knows."

The sardonic lift of the brow had me huffing in disgust. I was different because I never thought of marriage, at least to Ted, so it really did blindside me. Logan, on the other hand, was an incurable romantic and would've dropped broad hints in his excitement. It used to both irritate and amuse me when he would try to surprise me with a sweet gesture because he couldn't keep a secret; at least not once I figured out how to read his body language.

"I was really fucking pissed when you told me about..." he waved a hand in the general direction of my belly, "and she somehow got the idea I wasn't over you. We've fought over the last few weeks and she snapped when I agreed to pick you up, saying it proved her point."

My mouth hung open in shock at Samantha's completely inaccurate reading of the situation. While a part of Logan would always love me, just like a part of him loved Lilly, we were in the past and she was his future, no matter how I wished otherwise. Epic love stories aside, Logan had moved on to the point of marriage with this chick and she was stupid enough to throw him away? I was incensed at the waste.

"But...but...she has to know we used to be friends and are only now finding our way back to that? I mean, I live on the other side of the damn country. Did she think you'd seduce me when I'm pregnant with another man's child when I came home for a quick trip?"

I could understand her jealousy and anger if I lived close by; exes are always something to be leery of, as shown by my mother's history, but this was beyond the pale. True Logan and I talked nearly every day, but it was strictly platonic. He was too damaged by his father's infidelities and Lilly's to ever subject anyone he dated to the same humiliation. I was never concerned about him cheating on me; it was his insecurity, not mine, when we were together. The basis of my own fears were sexual in nature because I always worried I wasn't enough for him in bed or he'd get tired of my hangups and want someone more experienced. It was one of the reasons why I reacted so badly to him sleeping with Madison while we were broken up Freshman year. She was everything he hated in girls except for her sexual appetite, something he enjoyed exploiting when he was single. Of course it turned out she took advantage of his drunken state, but at the time, I couldn't forgive him for sleeping with one of the people I blamed for my rape.

"Apparently," the word crunched through his gritted teeth. His jaw relaxed a little as he admitted, "she found some old journals I kept when we used to date and I guess the silly wench read through them. Some of the things I wrote upset her because she claims I don't think of her the same way."

Journals ? How had I missed him writing in journals? Exactly how far back did these go? Logan wasn't stupid by any means, don't get me wrong, but he also tended towards laziness and sloth except when he was riding the waves or focused on me. It was both flattering and slightly frightening how much he depended on me while we dated, as if I were the keeper of his happiness. No one, much less a screwed up girl like me, should be the focus of someone's life to the point I was for him. Since we broke up for the last time, he fell into acting, big surprise there, and made a name for himself independent of his notorious family as a television star. I would never tell him I faithfully watched his show and thought he had deft comedic timing, but then it wasn't a shocker given his natural propensity for witty banter.

"You actually know how to write? I mean, pen to paper with your own original thoughts instead of ripping off Easy Rider ?"

We shared a brief grin at the pointed reminder of how he cheated the win to the essay contest and ignored the fatal sequence of events that followed. It wouldn't be a trip down memory lane in Neptune if it didn't include murder, general mayhem, and bloodshed; one more reason why I never made it to our ten year class reunion.

"It was a long time ago. I stopped writing when..."

Again he trailed off, but I didn't need him to finish the sentence as well versed as I was in deciphering his silences and half-uttered thoughts. He stopped writing when I left for a new life I had decided was more important than him. I wanted to read his journals in the worst way, but at the same time I didn't. I had no desire to read his anger and despair over our countless break ups or about his conquests in bed in between and after.

"So, have you, uh talked to her?"

Logan's jaw tightened in a fascinating way, the muscles of his face rippling with the force of his irritation. I was a little ashamed at the flash of jealousy lancing through me; until now, only I'd managed to put that look on his face. How sad was I to bemoan his anger at someone else? I stared down at my belly and focused my blame there. Obviously it was the bulge's fault for driving me batty with stupid misplaced emotions. I wasn't usually this...marshmallowy.

"She left yesterday and hasn't responded except for a text letting me know she got there safely."

I nodded absently then looked out the window. Apparently he'd found the perfect girlfriend who, even while pissed at him, still let him know she got some place okay. I wondered if she ever found his concern stifling like I did and tried to evade it by lying to him about her whereabouts. Nah, probably not.

"Guess you found a keeper, eh? Someone who actually enjoys being kept under house arrest."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could recall them. Spiteful jealousy, judgment, and anger – yup, I was back in Neptune alright, even if we hadn't actually hit the town limits yet.

"So, how did Ted react to the news of being a daddy?"

The venomous tone was familiar, the sally a shot over my bow letting me know he was willing to bring out the big guns. He knew, even if I hadn't talked to him since dropping my baby bomb on him, that I hadn't spoken to my ex. Oh sure, I halfheartedly tried to let Ted know, but when he didn't return my phone calls, I didn't exactly try to track him down. Or email him. Or send him a letter. Or hell, leave a "I'm pregnant with your baby" voicemail. I was terrified of having this child, of being a parent, yet I didn't try to inform the man who wanted to the whole picket fence thing. I'd found out quite abruptly when he proposed that the bad boy facade was one I'd constructed in my head and had intentionally blinded myself to his normalcy. I wanted him to be more Logan than Duncan.

"What are we doing? We can talk rationally and like actual adults when we're on opposite coasts, but not in person? What does that say about our friendship?"

I leaned against the glass, appreciating the chill against my overheated skin. My hand slipped to my stomach and I undid the coat, suddenly tired of trying to hide. I'd been forced to buy a pair of maternity jeans before I left New York because none of my pants fit any more and this coat was too warm for the temperate climate of the West Coast. I unclipped my belt and quickly shrugged out of the parka and tossed it into the back. I ignored Logan's eyes catching on my waist and rebelted myself. Even though the bus crash was caused by an explosion and not an accident, I still couldn't shake the incessant need to wear a harness whenever I was on the PCH. I closed my eyes for a moment when we passed the spot where fifteen of our classmates plunged over the rail into the unforgiving ocean below and spoke to each face emblazoned in my memory. There were many things I've forgotten over the years, but the names of each person who died that day wasn't one of them.

"I still think about DK and how he's doing with his baby."

The almost reverent moment was broken and I turned to him again, glad he'd taken my olive branch. I debated about telling him what I knew and figured he deserved to know since he was as much a part of it as I was. Plus, even though the statues of limitations never ran out on kidnappings, the Feds had long since cleared me of any wrong-doing in the case, though it was still a sore spot between Dad and I for my part in helping Duncan get away.

"I haven't seen him, you see, but every year on my birthday I get a card from Duncan." I restlessly massaged my bulge then decided to go for broke. "I'm pretty sure CW is the one sending them to me because they always have a California postmark and he's the only person Duncan would trust to pass them along to me."

Left unsaid was the deep abiding hatred the elder Kanes held for me, though for very different reasons. I rustled around in my purse and pulled out the one picture I had received in the last dozen years. It was of Duncan, his baby-face more austere and mature, smiling as he held a toddler, her blond hair and blue eyes so heartrendingly reminiscent of my Lilly, though the shape of her face and mouth were definitely shades of Meg. Duncan had named his daughter after his beloved dead sister, but called her Lillian because, as he wrote, there could only be one Lilly Kane.

"Do you ever wish you'd run away with him too? I know he must've asked."

His fingers were dry and rough as they passed the picture back to me, his tone studiously bland as if my answer were of no import. I tucked the keepsake back into my wallet and placed my purse back on the floor as I tried to come up with a diplomatic answer. I couldn't exactly tell him I had thought about it but it was too embarrassing to admit now, all these years later, I said no because my first thought was my dad and the second was of Logan.

"No, I never did. He was my first love and very important to me, but before he left, I had realized we weren't meant to be together. I-we-had changed so much, it wasn't ever going to work."

I was probably as surprised as Logan by the stark honesty of my response. It was the truth, but one I never shared with him. A small portion of our many relationship problems stemmed from his insecurities regarding Duncan. I could appreciate his concerns now because I understood how my inability to tell him I loved him were an open wound, especially since I had no difficulties with Duncan, and Logan had witnessed it more than once, before and after Lilly's death. I wished I could explain to Logan how saying "I love you" to Duncan wasn't a big deal to me then because it was habit and not necessarily a true expression of my feelings, but it was pointless. I had had my chance and blew it.

"So if he suddenly came back and wanted to be with you, you would say no?"

My laughter was genuine and light-hearted for all the darker emotions swirling in my heart. The thought of being with Duncan, much less anyone else for that matter, was ludicrous.

"I'm four months gone with child and you think I'm dangling for a baby daddy? Hell, I do have a baby daddy and I'm not exactly thrilled about it. Trust me, I'm very doubtful there will be any man in my life for the foreseeable future."

His snort was inelegant and annoying.

"That wasn't exactly an answer to my question."

I huffed and crossed my arms, but found the position uncomfortable, so I put them down into my lap.

"No," I responded quietly. "If Duncan were to get off a plane from whatever country he's hiding out in, I wouldn't go back to him. Our love story ended a long time ago and it would be stupid to even try to recapture that spark. The past is done and only the future matters."

I listened to the echo of my words in the bristling silence of the car and wondered if Logan read more into my statement than I had intended. On the other hand, I was stupid and arrogant to assume he was even thinking about us as an us when he was on the verge of engagement to another woman.

"Veronica Mars single? Is that even possible?"

I glared at him, ignoring the fluttering in my stomach as he glossed over my response and spoke to my earlier statement.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He took his eyes off the road, fortunately in a straight pass instead of the dangerous curves, and took a long sweep of me before turning his attention back.

"The longest you've been single was after Lilly died and Duncan broke up with you." He put up a hand to forstall my arguments. "Yes, there were reasons for that, but Junior year you still managed to date Troy, Leo, and me. Then Senior year was Duncan and me again. Then Freshman year of college was me and Piz. Sophomore year was me and Joe, Junior and Senior year was me. And after you completed your training in Virgina and got moved to join the New York office, it was Ted."

I grimaced as he laid out my romantic history but I couldn't refute a single word except Ted and I didn't start dating right away. He romanced me for a year before I even agreed to go out with him, but then our relationship hit fast forward and I moved into his apartment seven months into our relationship.

"Like you can talk. Don't even get me started on all the names on your list."

And just like that, our strained peace was shattered as old demons reared their ugly heads. This was reminiscent of every fight we ever had, which always seemed to revolve around my safety, his sexual conquests, and our inability to keep the blows above the belt. Sure, right now was civil compared to past blowouts, but the ground was shaky beneath our feet and it wouldn't take much to pitch us right back into the morass of unresolved issues.

The fluttering in my belly grew to the point of actual movement, and my skin rippled in a weird way, and I touched the spot with a surprised "Oh!"

Logan snapped his head towards me and panicked when he saw me clutching my waist. With a adroit twist of the wheel, he eased us onto the shoulder, and quickly braked as he anxiously unbelted, and leaned across the console to me. I ignored his mutterings and poked at the spot where the weird sensation had started before placing his hand there as well. He looked at me questioningly until the fluttering happened again beneath his palm.

"The bulge moved for the first time. My OB said it could happen any time."

I felt strange as it suddenly and powerfully impacted me: I was having a baby. This was a living, breathing, organism growing beneath my heart that would soon be completely and utterly dependent on me.

"The Bulge? You're calling your kid "the Bulge?""

The wry humor in his voice and spilling across his face invited a welcoming curve to my lips. I had tossed and turned over my decisions for my new future, whether or not I could include someone else in my planning or if I could give a piece of me away. I had never really thought about being a mother, not since my best friend was brutally and callously ripped from me, and yet it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Of course I could and would be a mom; who's to say the family who chose my kid would be the best suited to raise a Mars? Hadn't I always said it's the hero is the one that stays and the villain is the one that splits?

"I'm having a baby, Logan. I'm really having a baby."

His face was close to me, awe turning his dark eyes almost black, and his soft velvety lips half open. I yearned to close the tiny distance between us and lick at the seam before sliding my tongue into his mouth, but the rational part of my brain screamed "Danger Will Robinson! Danger!" and I gently took his hand off my belly and pushed at his shoulder.

"Don't we need to get going?"

An enigmatic look came over Logan and he shifted backwards, my stomach inexplicably cold where his palm had rested. For a moment it was like the world outside had fallen away and it was just us again, just like it used to be, but I couldn't afford to think like that; too much time had passed between then and now, and I was lying in the bed I made.

"Yes, we do have to be somewhere else, don't we Veronica?"

If I didn't quite understand the bitter undertone, I did realize the truth of his words. We were on different roads and never twain shall meet, or some such rot. Logan was the English major between the two of us and could probably give me the right quote, but instead I stared out the window and geared myself up for my inevitable meeting with my dad, pretending it was tears of joy filling my eyes.