Disclaimer: Still don't own it

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews! I love you guys!

Witness Protection

Chapter Three

When sunlight filtered through her window and woke Veronica, she felt Logan's arm still draped over her and, in the blissful moments between being asleep and being fully alert, she believed she was waking from a nightmare. A nightmare in which she had witnessed a murder and been shoved into Witness Protection, where she could never see her family and friends, and where she hadn't spoken to Logan for over a year. But it was alright, because it was, after all, just a nightmare.

Then she turned over to look at him and saw the bruises. She was jolted fully awake instantly. Her body went tense so quickly that Logan woke up too.

"Hey," he said quietly, bringing a hand up to brush some hair out of her face.

"You should shower," Veronica said too quickly, extracting herself from his arms before she forgot that she shouldn't be there. "Well, painkillers, then shower. I'll be right back."

She practically ran from the room to go get some Advil. She wasn't sure if he'd need it more for the protests of his bruised body, or for the pounding that had to be in his head. Still, she was thankful for the excuse to get out of his presence, if only for a minute. He was intoxicating, and she was afraid that if she was around him for too long, she'd end up doing something that would make it even harder for him to leave.

She returned with a bottle of Advil and a large glass of water, which she placed on the nightstand next to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I just got beat up by the Irish mafia," Logan responded bluntly, downing three of the pills in one gulp. "Little bit of a headache too, but definitely feeling better than yesterday. Guess they were right when they said that sleep actually helps the healing process."

"Little bit of a headache?" Veronica asked skeptically, her arms crossed in front of her. "Either you've got the liver of the gods, or you didn't have as much as I thought you did. But then why did you...do you...smell like a bar in Tijuana?" She was ignoring the comment about healing quickly. Outwardly, anyway. Inside, the logical part of her was saying that it was excellent, that he could be healed and on his way before anyone noticed he was missing. The less-than-logical part was urging her to push him down the stairs so he'd be stuck with her for a few more days.

"Spilled some tequila on my pants. And you know how cheap tequila reeks for days. Though I did have a lot before I passed out," he explained. "So you said something about a shower?"

"Yeah. Bathroom is," she pointed, "right there. Towels are in there too. Do you have any spare clothes?"

He nodded. "I packed a bag before I left. It's in the car. I'll go get it." He dug the keys out of his pocket.

"No, you'll get in the shower. I'll get your clothes," Veronica said, holding her hand out for his keys, amazed that he'd slept on them. "That was your X-terra, wasn't it? I mean, I know you drove the Range Rover the last few years, but a car that hideous showing up at the same time as you can't just be a coincidence."

"Hey, I love that car!" Logan said in his defense as he handed his keys over. "But yes, it's mine. The Rover was in the shop, so I was driving that. There's a black bag in the backseat. It has clothes."

"Okay, spare toothbrushes in the left drawer under the sink. I'll leave the bag outside the door and start something for breakfast. And you will explain everything to me. Got it?" That's right, Veronica. Business-like. Keep it that way. Don't slip up.

"Got it," Logan said, getting up and walking into the bathroom.

She shook her head, threw a robe on over her pajamas, and went to get his bag.

When Logan ambled out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, Veronica was fully dressed and not even remotely ready to face the day ahead of her. Of course, looking at her, no one else would have known that, except maybe for the guy who parked himself in one of the chairs at her table. But if he knew that anything about her was off, he made no comment.

"Alright, I hope you're in the mood for the typical all-American bacon, eggs, and pancakes," Veronica said as she placed a plate in front of him before placing another in front of her chair and sitting down. "And Logan," she added, doing her best Ricky Ricardo, "you got some explaining to do."

Logan chuckled before shoving a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Ask me anything. I'll answer as best as I can. Just keep in mind the last couple of days are a little...blurry."

She nodded. "Okay, let's start with the whole bribery thing. How did that work?"

"Found a guy, offered him money to tell me where you were. He said he didn't know, but he would gladly give me the name of someone who might...for the right price. Same thing happened with the guy he gave me, and then again and again, until one guy took his badge very seriously. He paid me a visit and informed me that if I continued to bribe federal employees for the location of a person under their protection, I would be persecuted to the full extent of the law." Logan smiled. "Though he was nice enough to add that it would be a lot harder to find you from prison. That's when I hired the private detectives. First one, then, after a month of nothing from him, another. And another. It was the last one that found you."

"And how long have you known where to find me?"

"Since yesterday morning. I got the call from the guy, packed a bag, and drove in the opposite direction, in case I was being watched. Then turned this way and zigzagged across the state a few times before finally getting here and drinking myself silly." He shook his head, smiled, and shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth. After swallowing, he added, "It started out as liquid courage, then moved into pain relief territory. Then I fell asleep, but not long enough to quite sober up."

It was time for Veronica to ask the question she dreaded most. As a way of stalling, she ate a few bites of her pancakes before saying, "Tell me what happened with the Fitzpatricks."

Logan put his fork down and fidgeted nervously. "I don't know how, but they got word that I was looking for you. I guess they wanted to get any information I had out of me. They grabbed me when I was leaving the mall and dragged me to a warehouse, where a few guys with biceps the size of my head took turns seeing if their fists would actually leave any kind of indents on my body. While they were doing that, Boyd kept asking me where you were. I'm glad the P.I. didn't reach me until the morning. Made it so I really and truly didn't know anything. It could have gone on a lot longer before they believed me, otherwise. They tossed me out at around four in the morning. Five hours later, I got the call from the P.I."

"Boyd's out of prison?" Veronica asked.

"Yes, and what a sunny disposition it's given him," Logan replied, the sarcastic tone of his voice making her smile. "I mean, Jesus, you thought he was a fun guy before, you should really see him now."

She offered him a feeble smile and placed her hand over his. "I'm glad you're okay, Logan. Honestly, it's a miracle you're not more..." She stopped mid-sentence, cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach. Something was off. "A miracle. No, not right. We know those guys. They would have pounded you into a squishy substance with or without reason if they didn't need you alive. Let me see your phone," she said, holding her hand out.

Logan was confused, but after all his time spent with Veronica, he knew it was better to just follow an instruction as simple as that than to question it. He handed his phone over. She quickly disassembled it, then sighed in relief before putting it back together.

"No bug. At least they don't have everything the P.I. told you." She punched her father's number into Logan's phone and held it to her ear. While the phone rang, she told Logan, "Get your stuff together as quickly as you can. If you've got extra room in that bag, throw some of my clothes in there too. I'll explain in a couple minutes."

As Logan nodded and headed for her bedroom, her father's voice came over the line. "For the hundredth time, Logan, I don't know where she is."

"Hi, daddy," Veronica said quietly.

"Oh, hi, sweetie! Sorry, I thought you were...oh god, he's found you, hasn't he?"

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Yeah. He got snatched by the Fitzpatricks a couple nights ago, beaten up, then got my info the next morning from one of his P.I.s. His phone's not bugged, but...I know this sounds terrible, but he wasn't beaten badly enough. I think they're using him to get to me. What do I do? Should we go our separate ways when I go on the run again? Call Witness Protection, see if they can get here before the Fitzpatricks?"

"His car probably has a tracer on it. Maybe a listening device or two as well. Problem is, you don't have time to find it. Get your bare essentials, get in your car, and get out, as fast as you can. Take Logan with you. If his phone wasn't bugged, then they can't know the name you're using, so you should get a good chunk of his money transferred to your accounts, and enough cash to last you at least a week before you have to make a withdrawl. You don't know how long you'll be on the run, and they'll be watching Logan's accounts. Don't go to a bank until you're at least a hundred miles away from wherever you are now, and once that's done, drive in a different direction." Keith paused to take a breath before continuing on. "Stay on the move. Of course, call Witness Protection, but don't depend on their help too much. Obey traffic laws. Use cash whenever you can, in case they do get wind of your new identity. Try to avoid a pattern in what kind of hotels you stay at. No five-star honeymoon suites every night, you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," she replied, already on her way into her room to gather the few things she absolutely couldn't leave behind.

"Absolutely no one touches Logan's phone except you and him. Never tell me where you are. And call me tonight to let me know you got out safe, okay?"

"Yes, daddy. Thank you. I love you," Veronica said, trying not to cry. Her life had just been shattered into a million pieces. Again. She hadn't been nearly as attached to this life as her last one, but it still wasn't a sensation she was fond of.

"I love you too, sweetie. Be careful."

"Always. Bye," she said, before hanging up and looking across the room at Logan. Before he could ask, she said, "We think your car is being traced. We need to leave as soon as we can. I'll tell you the rest of the stuff Dad told me when we're on our way."

"So...I led them to you?" Logan asked, the guilt in his voice almost too much to bear.

"You couldn't have known," Veronica replied. "Can you grab that lock-box at the top of the closet?"

He quietly did as she asked, then quickly grabbed up everything he figured she might need from the bathroom while she threw a few articles of clothing haphazardly into a suitcase. After that, she grabbed anything that could connect her to the apartment. Within ten minutes, Veronica was sure she had everything she couldn't live without. Five minutes after that, her car was zooming down the highway.

A half an hour later, a black Suburban pulled up to her apartment complex. Six men piled out of it, a few of them adjusting their guns in their holsters.