A/N 1: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I'm pretty new to the whole world of VMars. I only watched for the first time this December, so I need your help to make sure I'm on track.

A/N 2: I'm also new to the whole FanFiction world, so if there are certain unwritten do's and don'ts that I'm missing let me know as well!

Chapter Two: It's Time

Standing outside of The Pawn X-Change, Veronica ran her hand over the front of her blazer, smoothed out a few wrinkles and then adjusted the collar. It was a mere 48 degrees outside, but the sun was still shining. Veronica put on her sunglasses and took a piece of gum out of her purse, popping it into her mouth. She closed her eyes for a brief moment trying to remember the exact posture of her supervisor from her FBI internship.

No one did badass quite like Agent Baxter.

Now it was time to do some work of her own. Might not be as high stakes as the FBI, but it helped pay the bills. Veronica took a deep breath and then walked through the door of the relatively seedy establishment, hearing the bell ring as the door opened and then closed.

A man approximately 30 years of age walked to the counter from the back room and Veronica rolled her eyes, hidden by the dark glasses.

Could this dude be any more of a cliché?

He wore a black and red plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, a faded black t-shirt, and a pair of carpenter jeans that had either been well loved or absolutely hated by their owner given the number of rips and tears present. His trucker hat, the kind worn by actual truckers and not Ashton Kutcher once upon a time, would have benefited from a trip through the wash cycle.

If I hear the words 'little lady', I may break his nose.

Veronica walked toward the clerk, took off her sunglasses, and loudly smacked her gum. She purposefully kept him in her sights indicating that she was there for a reason, and it was not to purchase ten VHS tapes for $1. "Are you the owner of this establishment?" she asked, leaning one elbow on the glass display case as she looked around.

The man smirked, "Who's asking?"

"I believe I just did" she replied. Veronica turned back around to face him and reached into her blazer pulling out her credentials. "I'm Agent Kelly Marshall with the DEA. We have reason to suspect that this business has been involved with smuggling drugs in the greater Chicago area." Leaning in a little bit, she let her upper lip curl as if she couldn't bear the sight of the main before her. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that. Would you?"

The smirk immediately left the man's face as he took a closer look at the badge being shown to him by this 5' 1" force of nature. Her stare was making him a little queasy. It was too focused. Too intense. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Veronica said, putting her badge back into her blazer. "Your name is Walter, right?"

"How did you know that?"

"Walter, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to answer some questions."

"Seriously lady. You definitely have the wrong guy. I just work here."

"First off, my name isn't 'lady.' It's Agent Marshall and I'd appreciate it if you would take the time to address me appropriately. Got it, Wally?"

"Yes ma'am."

"That's better. Second, we've been observing the ins and outs of this place for the past two years, and we know that it's the people working here who are smuggling the drugs. So, unfortunately for you, 'I just work here' isn't going to cut it as a defense."

"I'm so sorry, Agent Marshall. I'll answer any questions you want."

"You're awfully jumpy, Wally." Veronica began pacing back and forth in front of the counter, her arms crossed strongly in front of her chest, staring Walter down, barely even blinking. "We know that more than $10,000 is deposited every Monday by an employee who works at this store. Each week the money is deposited to a different account. We know that your shop is off the radar of the Chicago PD because one of those accounts belongs to one of their officers. So, please explain to me given the fact that we already know all that and you have heretofore proven to be wildly unhelpful, why I would give you even an additional thirty seconds of my time?"

Walter gulped. This girl looked so small that a strong breeze could blow her over but her presence was making him feel unsteady. Like maybe she in fact was the strong breeze. And if he got in her way, the best he could hope for would be if she simply knocked him over.

Veronica stopped pacing and put both of her arms on the counter leaning in close to Walter, as if they were the best of friends and she was getting ready to tell him a secret. "This is what we're going to do, Walter. You're going to come with me to my office, we're going to get you a bottle of water, sit you in a nice comfy chair, and then you are going to tell me everything I don't already know. And if you don't, you're going to be brought up on possession charges so fast it'll make your head spin."

"Agent Marshall, you have to believe me. I'm just a grunt worker. The owner comes in on the weekends to take the money out of the safe and make the deposits. I never thought it was that much money! The most we get are three, maybe four customers a day."

"Okay, Walter, just come with me, I'll give the owner a call and we can get this all sorted out."

Veronica could feel the tension in the air build as Walter got increasingly more agitated. She was the face of calm as he paced back and forth, put his hands to his head, took his trucker cap off and wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. Veronica's stomach dropped for a second.

Did I miscalculate things? Is this guy dangerous?

She reached her hand into her pants pocket, feeling for her phone and dialed '9 -1-1', before locking her phone, poised at any moment to make the call if need be. She was crafty. She wasn't dumb.

When Veronica continued to stare at Walter without saying a word he looked at her panic stricken. "Please!" He yelled. "I don't know who has told you what, but I'm not involved with anything related to drugs. I've only been working here for six months."

"Walter, you seem distressed. This doesn't have anything to do with your own past indiscretions, does it? I know all about the fact you've been arrested twice for possession. You know what they say about old habits, don't you Walter?"

"That was more than ten years ago! I was a dumb college kid, and I'm not involved with anything like that anymore. Please, if you take me in, it's my third strike."

Veronica allowed his desperation to hang in the air between them. Although her entire body had tensed up, she slowly let out an exhale, knowing that everything was going to be fine. Any anger or aggression she felt coming from Walter was merely because her interrogation had taken him by surprise. Understandably.

Fixing him with a huge smile, Veronica shook her head as if to say, "I can't believe I'm doing this for you" and uncrossed her arms. "I don't know why, Walter, but I believe you. You have an honest face. I'm gonna give you one shot to help me, but so help me god, Walter, if you tip off your owner or anyone else I'm coming for you, your third strike will come so hard your children's children will be telling stories of how your ass got handed to you. Got it?"

"Got it. I'll do anything!"

"Our sources tell us that some of the drugs are being smuggled hidden in antique jewelry. The largest shipment we could trace came back in March 2010. You get me the receipts for all bought and sold jewelry transactions for that month, and I won't bring you in."

"Shouldn't I ask to see a warrant or something?"

"You ask and you shall receive, Walter, but if I were to ask you to provide me with license, registration, and title for that vehicle sitting outside would you be able to? Or would I find serial numbers filed off and a hood filled with stolen parts?"

Walter immediately turned to go into the back room. "Give me 20 minutes."

"Take your time. I've got all day." Veronica went behind the counter and sat on the stool, keeping her eyes glued to the back room. She pulled out her cell phone, '9-1-1' still locked on the screen. It had been a while since she had found herself in a precarious situation, but you know what they say about old habits.

Several hours later, dressed now in a pair of jeans and a zip up hoodie, she walked down the hallway of a campus apartment building and stopped in front of apartment 302, knocking decisively. A woman a few years younger than Veronica opened the door, wearing sweat pants, a tank top, and a look of genuine surprise to see Veronica standing there.

Trying to put her at ease, Veronica spoke first. "Julie Thomas! One singing telegram at your service! Sorry it's not a stripper gram."

Giving a genuine laugh, Julie now looked amused rather than surprised. "Veronica, what are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for vacation?"

"I leave tomorrow morning. Can I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry." Julie stepped back, opening the door wider and allowed Veronica to step into the front hallway. "Sorry my place is such a mess. My roomies and I have yet to clean up from the obligatory carb and coffee binge that accompanies finals week. Can I get you something to drink? I have water…and water?"

"No thank you, I have to get home, but I didn't want to leave for break without giving you this first." Veronica pulled a ring box out from her bag and handed it to Julie who gasped and then stared at Veronica with a look of bewilderment. Julie opened the box and seeing the ring it held inside, a yellow gold band, with a small white diamond flanked by a blue sapphire on either side, immediately started crying. "How…how did you?"

Surprised by the depth of emotion Julie felt about the ring, Veronica casually tried to play off what she had done. "I went to the pawn shop that was located a few blocks away from your high school, got the bills of sale for all rings pawned and sold for the month you said the ring was stolen, and started tracking people down. You're lucky, the guy who bought it was jilted all the altar, so he was all too happy to sell it back to me."

Julie's eyes hadn't left the ring, and she slowly sat down, reaching behind her to ensure herself the couch was actually where she thought it was.

"So, it'll be a pretty good present for your mom, then?" Veronica asked.

Looking up at Veronica, she closed the ring box and placed it gently on the coffee table. "You have no idea." Julie rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, as if she was trying to both keep herself warm and steel herself for what she was about to admit. "I'm the one who stole it."

Veronica gaped at her. "So, you're a secondary education student by day and petty thief by night?"

Julie grimaced, and then answered, a little tearfully. "I was a bit rebellious in high school. Hated my mom, hated my younger sister and brother, hated everything. Two days before my senior prom, my mom and I had a huge blow out. I wanted her to rent my friends and me a limo and she refused. She said that it was a frivolous expense, and I couldn't get both my dream dress and a limo. I screamed and cried, and told her she was ruining my life. She tried to explain, and I cut her off without letting her speak. I didn't know this, but she had arranged for my uncle and a few of his buddies to pick my friends up and drop us off at the prom in classic muscle cars. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"What happened? Did you figure it out?"

"Not exactly. I packed a bag and ran away to a friend's house, but not before I stole that ring from my mom's jewelry box and pawned it so I could rent a limo. It was my grandma's engagement ring, and she gave it to my mom before she passed away. I knew how much my mom loved it and I wanted to make her pay. Nice, right?"

Veronica smiled tightly at her, surprised that this seemingly innocent undergrad student could have done something so intentionally hurtful. But then Veronica remembered what she and the people she knew at Neptune High had done to each other, and her surprise quickly subsided.

Maybe we weren't as special as I thought. Maybe all high school students are just dumb asses.

Julie continued speaking. "Anyway, I've grown up a lot the past two years, my mom's forgiven me, and I'm working really hard to rebuild her trust. She's met this incredible guy who wants to marry her, but I knew she'd want this ring. When I asked you to find it, I didn't think you actually could. People said you were good, but, I thought it was gone forever."

"Hey, it was a great way to celebrate getting through finals week."

"Veronica, don't sell yourself short. This is a very big deal and it means the world to me."

Never comfortable with authentic praise, Veronica could feel her cheeks redden slightly, and she dismissed Julie's comment with a slight head nod and smile.

"How much do I owe you? It's $200/day, right? Plus whatever you had to pay to get the ring back."

"Actually, it didn't take much time, so just reimburse me for the ring, and we're square."

"Are you sure?" Veronica gave a quick head nod to assure her that she was. "Okay, will $300 cover it?"

Julie walked to her room to get her check book and missed the look that flitted across Veronica's face. Veronica opened her mouth to object and then closed it again, clearly having resolved to do something.

"It was $400 actually."

"Great. I'll add $50 as a thank you. I wish I could do more." Julie finished signing the check and tore it out of her book, handing it to Veronica.

Veronica took the check from her and quipped in response. "Just name your first born daughter Veronica and we'll be even. Tell your mom best wishes for me."

"I will. Merry Christmas, Veronica."

"Merry Christmas, Julie. Now, go call your mom's fella! You have some good news to pass on."

Julie smiled brightly and looked after Veronica as she left the living room, turned down the hall, and left the apartment. Standing in the hallway, Veronica looked at the check for $450.00 and laughed at herself.

So the ring actually cost me $600, but what does that matter, right? Ho, ho, ho, Chicago.

Veronica placed the check in her pocket and turned to walk out of the apartment building, humming the lyrics to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town", but inwardly changing the lyrics to "Santa Mars is coming to town."

Early the next morning, Veronica was running around her and Wallace's apartment frantically throwing things into her suitcase. Normally well organized and methodical, it was as if her type-a rubber band had snapped back hard and fast in light of the come down that always came after finals week. Which meant when she got home from Julie's house the night before she told Wallace that she was going to pack and get to bed early. Instead she curled up in her bed watching episodes from the final season of Dawson's Creek on Netflix.

It all seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she was sleep deprived and they were running late. Wallace stood in the kitchen, his suit case beside him, arms crossed over his chest, clearly not amused.

"If we miss this flight, you're paying for us to exchange our tickets."

"We won't miss our flight."

"I thought you said you were packing last night?"

"I had things to do."

"Of course you did. Things."

Wallace left his post in the kitchen and stood in the doorway of Veronica's room, amused at the site before him, of Veronica Mars struggling to pack both quickly and efficiently.

"You staring at me is not going to cause me to pack any quicker."

"We were officially supposed to leave 10 minutes ago"

"Hassling me won't work either."

"What about singing?" To the tune of the William Tell Overture, Wallace began drumming on his legs and signing loudly. "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up up up. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up up up."

Veronica groaned, and throwing her toiletries bag on top of a Northwestern sweatshirt, closed the lid and zipped the suitcase. "Are you finished?" she asked, glowering at Wallace.

"Are you?"

"Give me 45 seconds. Could you please put some coffee in a commuter mug for me? Please! I'll let you have the aisle seat."

"If we miss this flight, you're paying for the exchange, I get the aisle seat, and you're buying me a $20 fruit and cheese plate."

"Fine, but we're not going to miss the flight. Please, coffee, now."

Wallace stalked out of the doorway counting down loudly. "45…44..43…42…41…"

"Not helping!" Veronica peered out of her doorway to ensure that Wallace was in fact getting her coffee, and then ran back to her desk, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a stack of more than twenty letters, all in plain manila envelopes. She slipped them into one of the compartments on her suitcase as she heard Wallace continue his count down. "19…18…17…16…15…"

Veronica looked at her room one last time, grabbed a post card from her bulletin board that featured Hercule Poirot, and pulled up the handle of her suitcase as she heard Wallace finish, "4…3…2…1."

Veronica ran towards the front door, wheeling her suit case behind her, and took the cup of coffee from Wallace. "Come on, Wallace, let's go. Sheesh, we were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago!"

"Make as many jokes as you want. It's not going to get you out of buying me a cheese plate."

One hour later, Wallace and Veronica were running through the airport to their gate. Wallace managed to get by with just a carry on, but Veronica had to check a bag which took much longer than she was expecting due to the flood of students heading home for holiday break. Security had fast tracked them through as their plane was already boarding. Wallace's longer legs meant he had pulled in front of Veronica.

Wallace yelled at her, over his shoulder. "I told you we should have taken a cab."

Yelling right back, she picked up the pace a little, "Total rip off, and there's nothing wrong with public transportation."

"If we miss this flight, you're also renting me one of those little DVD players."

"We're not going to miss this flight."

As if in response to her over confident tone, Wallace and Veronica heard a voice announce over the intercom, "This is the final boarding call for flight 514 to Los Angeles, CA."

Up to that point both Veronica and Wallace thought they were running as fast as they could, but with that announcement they both found a well of untapped energy as they took longer strides and crashed into people, ignoring angry stares and even angrier expletives. Wallace reached the flight attendant managing the gate first and gasped out his thanks as Veronica arrived a few seconds after him. They both got onto the plane, avoiding the judgmental stares of those on the plane who were all thinking, "How hard is it to arrive at the airport on time?", and found their seats quickly. Almost immediately after they walked on the plane, the flight attendant closed the door, and the captain called to ready the cabin for take-off.

"See, Wallace. Piece of cake. Told you we'd make the flight."

Wallace shook his head at her. "You're never boring, Veronica Mars." He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Hey, Fennell, you trying to get fresh with me?"

At the front of the plane the flight attendants had begun their safety demonstration, but Wallace and Veronica ignored them, instead talking softly amongst themselves. Wallace looked at her with a look of concern that Veronica didn't appreciate. "How you feeling about heading home?"

"It'll be fine. I mean, it's only been a year. Not like I'm the prodigal daughter or anything."

"I'm just saying that somehow I managed to visit my mom three times in the past year, and this is your first time back."

"Are you saying you're a better son than I'm a daughter?"

"I didn't say that. Did you hear me say that?"

"Shut it, Fennell." She threw his travel pillow forcefully into his chest. "And take your travel pillow."

"See, this is why you have to sleep. Otherwise you get all cranky." Wallace smirked at her, but could see that she actually looked upset at the thought that she had stayed away for so long. Veronica sighed and turned to look at Wallace. "I would say that it was because I was so busy with school, but you're in grad school too. It's not like I'm the only one."

"Hey, I was just giving you a hard time. Everyone knows how much you love your dad. And you're not just in grad school, you're in medical school. It's a whole different ball game. Mechanical engineering is touch, but it's not life and death. You did the right thing by focusing as hard as you have on what you're there to do."

Veronica smiled. "For the record, I'm not cranky. You're just sensitive."

Knowing that this was the best he was going to get from her, Wallace removed his arm from around Veronica's shoulder and settled the travel pillow behind his head. Veronica did the same with her own pillow.

After the flight attendants completed their demonstration, "please make sure your seatbelt is fastened, you seat back and tray tables are in their full upright and lock position, and all carry-on items are stored properly," the pilot came over the intercom and gave his customary greeting and superfluous smarm-tastic comments. "It's a beautiful winter morning here in the Windy City. We're expected to touch down in Los Angeles in four hours. So sit back and enjoy the flight."

"Shall we do as our captain asks us, Miss Mars?"

"I think we shall, Mr. Fennel." Veronica put her fist up, and Wallace promptly bumped it. They both closed their eyes and sank as far as they could back into their seats without being able to lean them back yet. Veronica sighed. No case studies to write. No need to study the anatomy of the heart. No cases to solve. For the next four hours she chose to be blissfully ignorant, knowing that despite the belief of Wallace and her other friends, the only part of her time away from medical school that would actually be a break were these four hours on the plane. The moment the tires touched the tarmac, it was time to get back to work. Better enjoy them while you can, Veronica Mars.

Veronica slept for almost the entire flight and didn't wake up until she heard the voice of the pilot entreat the flight attendants to prepare the cabin for landing. She raised her seat so it was upright and stored her pillow in her bag before smoothing her hair down and reapplying her chapstick. Wallace was still asleep and she felt it was her duty to protect him for the censure of an unkind flight attendant. She did what any good friend would do and plugged his nose so he had a difficult time breathing and woke up with a start.

"Geez, Veronica! How old are you?"

"I'm 24, turning 25 this August. How old are you?"

"Cute, real cute."

"I thought so. Come on Wally-F. You know you can't stay made at this face! Besides, we have to take Neptune by storm this break, and Mac isn't going to be here for another week, so if you're mad at me I am a posse of one. Which is just sad."

"I can think of a few other people in Neptune, one in particular, who would like to be in your posse."

"Unfortunately the application deadline to join the V-Mars posse has lapsed and we're no longer accepting applications."

"Well, as much as I would like to spend the next three weeks walking down memory lane with you…"

Veronica interrupts and claps her hands together in excitement. "Okay, first I'll tape you to a flag pole, then I'll hire a bunch of plastic surgery bimbos to throw my clothes in the toilet, then…"

Wallace gave as good as he got and interrupted her this time, holding up his thumb, index finger, and middle finger, pinching them together asking her to be quiet. "Buh, buh, buh. There will be no trips down memory lane, no journeys down Christmases of Neptune past."

"What about jaunts among times that were?"

"That is not a thing."

"Could be. Maybe."

"Regardless, I promised my mom that I would spend an ample amount of time at home, and I'm sure your dad will want the same for you. And if he happens to be too busy, like I said, I'm sure there's someone who is bound to want to occupy your time."

Veronica turned to Wallace with a deadly serious look on her face and grabbed his hand clutching it tightly. Wallace rolled his eyes knowing that despite her expression she was being incredibly insincere. "But what happens if I go to Dick Casablancas to declare my love, and he's moved on? What then Wallace? What then!" Veronica dramatically yelled her final entreaties and more than a few passengers turned their heads to look at the tiny blonde with the big voice.

"Happy now?" Wallace asked her, easily hiding his amusement.

"Thrilled." Veronica pointed out the window. "Ugh, I hate this part." Veronica leaned back and gripped the arm rests as the tires hit the landing strip. Once I step foot off this plane, it'll be time to face reality. Not my favorite past time. Maybe I can just sleep here tonight?

Despite her inner resolve to become at one with the airplane, Veronica found herself standing in the line of people clamoring to get off the plane, walked through the vestibule, and into the terminal of LAX. Wallace was a few feet behind her, so she stepped off to the side and waited for him to catch up only to spot her dad running towards her. Before she could fully process he had swept her up in a huge bear hug.

"There's my girl! Have you shrunk?"

Returning the hug and fiercely gripping his shoulders, she responded, "No, you've just gotten taller. What are you doing here? Security didn't really let you through, did they?"

Keith broke the hug, but kept one arm wrapped around her. He bent his head down conspiratorially. "Shhh. I told them I was following a bail jumper and had to stop him from getting on a plane."

Having caught up to them, and hearing the tail end of the conversation, Wallace piped in. "Keith Mars, breaking hearts and laws, and taking names."

"Some things never change, Wallace. Here, let me take your guys' bags. If security asks, you two are the famed wanted couple Sheldon and Shirley Meyers. We need to go to baggage claim?"

Veronica answered. "Yeah, I had to check a bag. What's on the agenda for the night, father of mine?"

"Just a quick stop at the office to deliver something to a client, and then…

"Cheeseburgers!"

"Veronica," her dad said disapprovingly, "It's only 9 AM."

"9 AM California time. Besides by the time we get to Neptune it'll be after 11 o'clock. That's a perfectly acceptable time for bovine consumption."

"Wow, honey. Grad school had made you smarter."

"Mr. Mars, you think you could drop me off at my mom's house first? I know she was planning on having lunch ready."

"Only if you tip me very well, Wallace."

Keith gave Veronica a side-hug as they walked side by side and kissed her on the forehead. "Welcome home, kiddo." Veronica leaned into his side slightly and put an arm around his waist, as they headed towards baggage claim.

A/N 3: The person everyone wants to see will be in the next chapter.

A/N 4: The title of this chapter was originally a reference to a book on screenwriting entitled Save the Cat. A Save the Cat scene happens at the beginning of the movie and gives your audience a reason to root for the hero of the movie. i.e. They are a firefighter and they do something heroic and save the cat.