A/N: You guys overwhelmed me with all the positive reviews. I can't thank you enough. Every time I opened my inbox and found a new one I was seriously giddy. There may have been a bad imitation of the Snoopy Dance happening by my desk at work. For those begging for updates, I swear I'm getting the chapters to you as quickly as I can. And if you are enjoying the way this is playing out props go to the best in the betaverse, nevertothethird. That gal makes me THINK!

Chapter 3

The Vicodin had taken the edge off her pain but Veronica still winced as she made her way through security and to her desk. Adam, already at work on his computer, greeted her with surprise and concern when she came in.

He jumped up and helped her sit carefully in her chair, trying to jostle her as little as possible. "Rover? What the hell are you doing here? I told you I would take care of the reports and email them to you."

Once settled she gave a sigh and shrugged. "I figured you would know. Director David called me about this new case. He made it seem so urgent that I faced the wrath of Echolls to get here."

"Not thrilled another man got his hands on you, eh?"

Adam's wry smile and attempt at wit had no audience. Veronica knew how much last night's incident had upset Logan, and she had used up all her humor trying to keep him calm. Right now she just wanted her guy and her bed, in that order; not even a bull session with Adam held any allure. "Not the hands so much as the fists. He only gave me an hour; he's meeting me downstairs. What's going on?"

"Damned if I know. Murphy had a break in that case he and I worked a few months ago; I'm heading out to Atlantic City in a couple of hours."

Crap. Though she and Adam predominately worked cases together, they had been separated on more than a few occasions. Since Jerry had retired and Marjorie had transferred to Atlanta, there weren't many agents left that Veronica enjoyed working with, or trusted. Most of them had a penchant for following the rules, and were so boring that stakeouts felt like she'd been taken hostage and forced to stay awake watching PBS during pledge week.

Adam walked her to Director David's office, and she promised to find him before she left. Once settled in a chair, Director David explained the summons with his usual formality. "Agent Mars, I'm sorry to bring you in like this, but your situation has afforded us a unique opportunity. You're free to turn it down, but I'd like you to hear me out first."

At her nod he continued. "We have a new agent starting today, just transferred from the Austin office. He has an impressive resume, but I want him field tested with one of my own before I give him a big assignment. His—"

A knock pulled their attention to the door. A blond man in his late twenties with hazel eyes, a couple inches shy of six feet tall, and a stocky, muscular build entered. Veronica started in her chair, then cursed under her breath when her ribs protested the sudden movement.

"Hi, is this a good time?" the blonde guy asked, looking at Director David.

David stood and waved him in before getting down to the pairing of the new team. "Agent Dragan, come in. I believe you two know each other since you were in the same class at Quantico."

The young man looked at her in surprise, then smiled, came toward her and teased, "Veronica Mars. Don't you remember that self-defense class we took? Of all the ways you can stop a fist, your face is the last resort."

Veronica grinned and scratched the side of her nose with her extended middle finger, subtly flipping him off. "Jason Dragan, if your face had been there, I promise I would have used it first."

Jason's smile morphed into a smirk as he shook her hand, creating the picture of camaraderie. Director David looked between the two of them. "Do you two want to talk about this case or are we filming a beer commercial?"

"Sorry, sir." Jason settled into the other chair, all business as he focused on their boss. Veronica took the file Director David handed to her, flipping through it as he went over the details.

"Eleven months ago, here in New York, a man reported his wife went missing. Not long after, the case was dismissed when he received a letter explaining she'd left him. Her body was recently found in India. The medical examiner reported she'd been repeatedly beaten and raped. At the time of her disappearance the police received an anonymous tip that, before she vanished, she'd been seen at a local shelter for abuse victims."

Jason leaned so he could peruse the file over Veronica's shoulder as they listened. "The woman's name was Susan Jameson. She was raised in the foster system and married when she was just twenty, then she moved here with her husband two years ago. She had no family to speak of, no close friends, and no money. Neither she nor her husband had never been issued a passport."

The file was thin, containing a picture of a young woman in her mid-twenties with blond hair, blue eyes and delicate features, as well as several hospital records that detailed the abuse she'd suffered since getting married five years ago. At the back were pictures of the body and police report, translated into English, describing how and where Susan Jameson was discovered.

"So how did she end up in India? Human trafficking?" Veronica asked, the familiar burn of curiosity going through her.

"That's the most likely scenario," David handed each of them another file. "One of our more industrious interns found reports for two other women reported missing in the past three years. Both were known to frequent the same shelter."

All the pieces fell into place for Veronica. It wasn't hard to see what her role would be in all this. "You want me to use my injuries as a ticket into a shelter for abuse victims, and figure out what happened to these women."

"Exactly." David's look was grim "The other two missing women complete the profile. Early to mid-twenties, petite, no close ties, no children. Each was reported missing, but their cases were closed when their husbands received handwritten letters explaining they'd left by choice."

Veronica knew she fit the physical profile perfectly. With her injuries she was the perfect choice to go, but those selling points were also a detriment to her abilities. Before she could voice the thought, Jason did it himself.

"What's the plan, sir? I obviously can't enter the shelter but, in her condition, is it safe to send Agent Mars in alone?"

David folded his hands on the desk and leaned toward them both, his expression grave. "We have no evidence that ties the shelter, or anyone there, to Susan Jameson's death. Mars, this would be light duty; going by the shelter every day or two for a short time. Sell your story, but don't take any risks. Just see what you come up with. Dragan, she'll be wearing a wire and your job will be to sit a in surveillance vehicle nearby. You'll record everything and make sure she stays out of trouble."

His gaze moved to focus solely on Veronica, and she read the question in it. Your mission, should you choose to accept it… She didn't have to take this case. She could take the time to stay home and heal, to ease Logan's mind and to relax into her life for a few weeks. But a second look at Susan Jameson's photograph had her asking, "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow. Think through your cover story tonight; Dragan can get started on the research today, find out as much as possible about what you're walking into. Investigate the shelter's history, run employee background checks, etc."

"Yes, sir." Veronica stood slowly, trying not to show too many signs of discomfort. Jason moved as if to help but she held up a hand in protest. It took her a couple seconds longer alone, but if she was going to pull off this assignment she would have to deal. Exiting through the door Jason held open, she turned to face him once they were alone in the hallway.

"Well." She managed an entire conversation with that one word.

Jason chuckled and looked down at her, his hands on his hips. "Is this going to be okay? Us working together?"

Veronica thought for a moment. Their history was uncomplicated, friendly, and a long time ago. There was no rancor between them, nor cause for awkwardness. Though they had never worked together, she remembered him being dependable in every training exercise. "Definitely. See you tomorrow."

Jason raised his eyebrows and pointed to her bruises and scrapes. "Which is when I'm going to hear about all this, right? And who the hell chooses a black cast?"

Veronica rolled her eyes in response. "Duh. It hides the blood of the victims I beat with it."

"Right," Jason drawled, drawing out the word so it lasted twice as long as it should. "Do you need help getting downstairs?"

She glanced at the wall clock behind his head and realized she had only ten minutes before Logan was going to pick her up. He was upset enough about what had happened, and now she had to tell him she was going right back to work. Throwing Jason into that mix would be too much, so she shook her head and, catching sight of Adam walking up the hall, she waved him over.

The introductions made, Adam then accompanied her downstairs while Jason went to settle into Jerry's old desk. As they rode in the elevator Adam was quiet, a frown creasing his forehead. Veronica nudged him with her toe and probed, "You're thinking awfully hard."

"It's something I do before I speak… I've heard that name before. Jason Dragan, Jason Dragan—kind of rolls off the tongue…" Adam's voice trailed off as a look of comprehension crossed his face.

Busted. Damn long night stakeouts. Adam was a genius at getting her to talk, and one night she'd told him about Jason. She had been twenty-three and celibate for far too long, but not looking for a relationship. He was a nice guy, attractive, and able to keep a secret. They'd spent two months sleeping together, then went their separate ways after graduation. The only thing she regretted was telling Adam about it.

Adam looked at her and started laughing. "Isn't it fun when casual sex comes back to bite you in the ass?"

"Not really," It was exhausting just thinking about how much fodder for teasing he would get from this.

"I meant fun for me," Adam leered, letting her know that, indeed, this was only the beginning of his taunts.

They exited the elevator and she could see Logan standing outside waiting for her. Quickly she turned to Adam and ordered, "Let it go. It was a no drama fling, there's no need for drama now. Clear?"

His smirk was irritating as hell, but not as much as when he sing-songed, "You're not gonna tell Logan."

"Not unless he asks. Would you?" Veronica asked sardonically.

Adam laughed. "Hell, no. That's not to say you shouldn't, but hey, it's your bad decision, not mine." He leaned down and gave her a brief one-sided hug before heading back to the elevator.


Logan waited impatiently outside of the FBI office. He couldn't believe they had asked her to come in after everything she had been through in the fucking 'line of duty' last night. He glanced at his watch and was about to head inside when he saw Veronica walking stiffly toward him, so stepped into the street to hail a cab instead.

She started to doze off in the taxi and, the minute they got home, Logan ordered her straight up to bed. After he helped her climb the stairs and undress, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into bed with her. He curved his body around hers and started playing with her hair.

"Tell me about you. I was gone two weeks, catch me up," she commanded.

Logan gave a low laugh. "There's precious little to tell. Went windsurfing a few times, but mostly I worked. Charlie came over to supposedly help, but really he just wanted to play with the dogs. So I kicked them all out to go play at the park. Have you noticed how Chawie talks in a baby voice to them? I swear he'd kill us if he thought he'd get guardianship."

Veronica's chuckle was evidence of her agreement. "Yeah, well, I'll take that over pissed off ex-boyfriend, if you don't mind." As she dozed off, he thought about what she'd said, and had to agree. Their relationship with Charlie McGeary had come a long way, due in no small part to the dogs…

Logan hung up with the real estate agent after putting his bid in on the place Veronica so badly wanted. Her fast babbling had been indecipherable, but he knew it would take a hell of a house to get her that riled up. He couldn't resist the opportunity to make her happy.

He heard a knock at the door and looked up to see his boss Elaine standing tentatively in the doorway. "Logan, do you have a sec?"

"Yeah, of course," he answered, and then jumped up to clear a chair that was covered with manuscripts. "What's up?"

She settled in the chair while he perched on the edge of the desk and waited. Elaine rarely needed to talk to him, and she had never come to his office for that purpose. The nervousness she was exhibiting had him wondering; she was about the most confident person he knew.

"Logan, it's about Charlie McGeary." She saw his frown and nodded, then continued, "I know about your personal situation, but we have a professional problem."

He leaned back on the desk and crossed his arms. "And I can't help you. He's made it clear he doesn't want to work with me. And I don't blame him."

"The problem is, he hasn't been able to work with anybody else. He went through three editors before he and Judith hit it off, and then when you took over for her it was seamless," Elaine reminded him.

Logan scoffed at that, "Seamless? He stormed out of my office more times than I can count. We fought about the book almost every day. Then, there was that little matter of us loving the same woman." Elaine was one of the few people that had been privy to what had happened between him, Veronica and Charlie.

She was persistent; he had to give her that. "You know how protective he is of his work, and no one else has been able to handle him on this new book. Now I have five editors that refuse to work with him, instead of three. I need you."

"I'm not the problem," Logan tried to explain. "He's the one who refuses to work with me."

A small smile crossed her lips before. "Well, I got him to agree to a meet. He'll be here in an hour."

The small surge of hope that fluttered in Logan's chest had him grinning at her. She got up with a nod and left his office, leaving him to stew for the next hour. He left and took a walk, knowing he'd never be able to get any work done, but spent the time checking his watch repeatedly to make sure he wasn't late getting back.

Charlie stiffly walked in at the appointed time, and the two of them stared at each other. Circumstances, and a year of silence, lent a tense atmosphere to the room. Figuring Charlie had been the wronged party in the events last year, Logan felt it was his responsibility to make the first move.

He stood and walked around the desk, then quietly said, "Charlie, it's good to see you."

Making no move to come into the office, Charlie remained by the door. "I wish I could say the same. I'm only here under Elaine's orders. I owe her, but I don't owe you a thing. This meeting is pointless; it won't fix anything."

"Fair enough, but for what it's worth, I'd like to try. Professionally, if nothing else." Charlie's animosity was no surprise, but it dampened the spark of possibility Logan had nursed for the last hour.

Charlie stood there silently for a moment, then cocked his head and asked, "Did you read the rough draft?"

"No," Logan shook his head. "But if you say it's okay, I will tomorrow."

The sneer Charlie offered brought his bitterness to the forefront again. "Busy tonight? One year anniversary and all that?"

Logan was confused. Anniversary of what? Then everything fell into place and he quickly stood up as he protested, "No, Charlie, that's not how it went down. After Oregon I didn't see or hear from Veronica for over three months."

This time it was Charlie's turn to look confused. "But we broke up. And you knew that."

"Yeah," Logan enunciated the word slowly. "And she knew how I felt. I figured her silence spoke loud and clear. It was over three months before she contacted me."

"But what took her so long?"

Logan sighed and gave the other man a pointed look. He stepped back to again perch on his desk and crossed his arms. "She didn't tell me much, but I gather you're not an easy guy to get over. She loved you, Charlie."

"But not like she loved you." Charlie's voice was flat, long since having accepted this fact.

"I'm not going to apologize for that, though I am sorry you got hurt. We both are."

Charlie nodded, and then turned to leave. Before he walked out, he threw over his shoulder, "Read it. I'll come back on Friday."

Logan read the book, and loved it; there was more action and dark wit that Charlie's previous works. The two of them worked together on the editing for the next few months, always in his office. Most authors would just take his notes and do the work themselves, but Charlie required a more hands on approach, so they logged a lot of hours together.

The first thing Logan noticed about the manuscript was that it was computer generated. Charlie had been adamantly anti-tech, refusing to use a computer for either research or word processing. He had always done a rough draft in long hand, then a second draft on the typewriter, claiming, 'If it was good enough for Twain, Hemingway and London, its good enough for me.'

When he questioned Charlie, the man confessed he had spent the last year taking computer classes, and had bought a laptop and printer. Mainly because some asshole had put him on the spot for his lack of tech knowledge. Since Logan knew he was the asshole in question, he wisely dropped the subject and got back to work, making a silent vow to stay away from topics even remotely personal.

As predicted, they did have a lot of fights about the book. Yet, despite their personal differences, they shared a vision for the story and their fights were a part of the process they had developed when they worked together before. Charlie always protested Logan's ideas until he'd had a chance to process them and, more often than not, he would agree. The night they finished the final edit, it was eleven o'clock when Logan finally threw down the red pencil and proclaimed, "Done."

Charlie looked up from his laptop where he had input the final change, and tiredly declared, "Thank. The. Fuck."

Logan smirked. "That was colorful. Mind if I quote you on that?"

A tired chuckle emphasized the fatigue evident in Charlie's face. "Why not? I'd be honored to be a part of your repartee."

They exchanged an amused look before Logan broke away to gather all the papers strewn around him. "Anyway, throw it on the flash drive and I'll do a final proofread before we send it off for galleys. I'll call you when they're done. Until then…"

Charlie didn't move, just looked at him like he was working up the nerve to say something. After several tense moments he finally came out with it. "Logan, how's Veronica?"

Logan met the other man's gaze and understood the nervousness in his tone, so tried to phrase his response as neutrally as possible. "Good. Busy. She's been gone for about a week on assignment."

"And the two of you? How is that going?"

He was surprised, and wary. Was Charlie looking for an opening, or just curious? "We're really good. We fight, and we make each other crazy, and it's the best it's ever been. She's been hinting that she wants a dog ever since we bought a house."

Charlie stood up and walked over to the window. His back was turned when he admitted, "I was so mad at the two of you for so long. But, finding out she didn't go straight to you after we broke up, it helped."

When Logan was silent, Charlie turned and faced him, leaning his back against the wall beside the window. "I took off that night, after I punched you. Took a road trip and ended up in Montana where my friend Annabelle lives. Poured my heart out, told her everything."

Logan leaned back on the couch. He remembered Annabelle had been Charlie's ex, and had been friends with both Charlie and Veronica before she moved. "And what did she say?"

"That if I'd been looking, the warning signs were there. Veronica never talked about her past, and we never talked about our future. Three years together and we never talked marriage, kids, houses, or even dogs. And we never fought." Charlie gave Logan a wry smile. "Apparently that had more significance than I realized at the time."

"What are you saying, Charlie?"

"I'm saying that I get it. And if you want to hang out once in a while, you should call me. Though I'm not ready to see Veronica yet."

So, they got together several times over the next few months, only the two of them and never at Logan and Veronica's house. Charlie was dating again, though he hadn't met anybody that mattered. Then, during lunch on a Friday afternoon, Logan risked ruining their budding friendship by offering a crazy idea. He took a deep breath before he made his proposal." Charlie, can I talk to you about something out of left field?" he asked.

"I didn't grow up in America. You might have better luck with a cricket analogy."

Logan ignored the joke and took another big breath, steeling himself. "It's about your book."

"It's a little late for an editing change."

If he was looking for an opening, he wasn't going to get a better one, so he forged ahead. "Actually, it's not."

"What the hell are you driving at Logan?"

"Ok, something has been on my mind since I first read your book. I'm a child of the movies, as you know. And your book would make a hell of a screenplay. I'm sure you've had offers."

Charlie rolled his eyes and nodded. "Offers my agent is begging me to accept. But I tried that once. They wanted to change everything. No fucking way. If people want to know the story, they can damn well read it."

His heart pounding in his chest, Logan reached into his bag and pulled out the screen play he had spent months working on. He held out the envelope like it contained Anthrax. "I tried my hand at it, and left it as intact as possible for a two hour movie. With one big difference. If you hate it, we'll burn it in my fireplace together."

Charlie took it like he knew it contained Anthrax. "What big difference?"

"Charlie, just read it. Please," Logan practically begged. The fights they'd had over his editing even a paragraph of Charlie's books were office legend. He feared that manhandling Charlie's entire masterpiece and handing it back to him could ruin all the progress they had made these past months.

After Charlie agreed, they ended the lunch on a strained note. Logan went back to his office and got nothing done, just stared at the phone, waiting for it to ring. He finally gave up and went home to play with the puppies. They were almost five months old, ornery as hell, and completely hilarious. They were growing so fast it made them clumsy and awkward, but their intelligence was obvious. Both were completely housebroken and getting the hang of sit, down, stay, and lay down. The next one they were focusing on was shake, before he moved into the more complicated, but cooler, high-five. And they were great at taking his mind off whatever was stressing him out.

The only source of contention was Hatfield's love of shoes. McCoy was satisfied with the bones and toys he was given, but Hatfield would devour any shoe that was left in his vicinity. They had to be diligent about keeping their closets closed or he would go into high destructive mode.

Saturday morning, Logan did his best to keep himself busy so he wouldn't focus so much on Charlie. Veronica was working, so he spent the morning alone taking the dogs for a run, carrying a load to the dry cleaners, and doing some grocery shopping. Around noon he heard the doorbell ring and found Charlie on the front stoop, the screen play in hand.

After inviting him in, Logan nervously joked, "Come to take me up on that fireplace?"

"I hope you don't mind my dropping by. I figured out which house it was from your description."

Logan glared at him, completely out of patience with the small talk. "You're killing me, Smalls."

"It's good," Charlie grinned. "Really good. I don't know movies, but you kept the best parts of the book. And changing who the killer is? You played that brilliantly, everyone will be blown away."

"You don't mind the way I added the dialogue?" Logan ventured, trying to find the inevitable flaw.

"No! Since so much of the book takes place in Anthony's head, you had to find another way to convey what he was thinking. It totally worked."

The high pitched yelps that were coming from the terrace finally penetrated Logan's euphoria. He had shut the pups out before he answered the door; they tended to get overexcited greeting guests so it was safer to lock them out until their training came farther along.

He grinned at Charlie. "So, want to meet the latest additions to the family?"

Charlie fell in love with the dogs. Both of them got so caught up petting and playing with them they didn't hear Veronica come in through the kitchen until she yelled, "Logan Fucking Echolls!" Charlie froze on the far side of the couch, crouched on the floor, holding down McCoy where they were wrestling.

Logan jumped up as she pounded up the stairs, and caught the half-chewed black boot she lobbed at him. "I know I left the closet door closed!" Her face was flushed with anger, her eyes sparked and her body was coiled to spring if he said one wrong thing. "These were brand new."

He smacked his head in an exaggerated expression of stupidity, "Right! The closet. Must have left it open when I grabbed the dry cleaning." He examined the boot in his hand and grinned, "On the bright side, he seems to be limiting himself to the cheap vinyl crap. You know, just because you're a public servant doesn't mean you have to dress like one."

"Laugh it up, Chuckles McSnobby. But if you know what's good for you, you'll go up there before I do, and see what else he destroyed." Her warning tone had him moving toward the stairs, but he promised himself that next time they were alone, he would intentionally feed Hat another pair.

Charlie chose that moment to poke his head out from the behind the couch, a sardonic grin on his face. "So, this is what happily ever looks like?"

After that Charlie practically became a fixture at their house, constantly finding some excuse to come over so he could play with the dogs. Mostly when Veronica was gone, but after a while they grew less awkward with each other and he stopped avoiding her.

The big change came when Veronica and Logan threw a small Christmas party and reintroduced Charlie and Henrietta. Henry and Logan had gone on exactly one date more than two years before and had been friends ever since. All Henry had to do was whisper five magic words at Charlie, "I don't own a television," and he was twitterpated. They were currently planning a wedding for next spring.

Charlie's agent found a studio willing to make a movie from Logan's screenplay, and it was a huge success. The year it was released Logan won an Oscar for best adapted screenplay and became Hollywood's Golden Child, The Comeback Kid. He had a brief resurgence of fame and, though he hated the attention, he loved his new career. Since Charlie's movie he had written original screen plays for three others that got produced, one a smash, another not—it was declared 'too dark', and the third currently in post-production. But that first screenplay marked the beginning of a collaboration. Now Logan still edited Charlie's books, but only Charlie's books. And he got first crack at writing any screen play adaptations of books Charlie authored, one of which he was working on right now…

Once Veronica was asleep Logan went to work in his office across the hall but, after an hour of not accomplishing anything, he went back to check on her. She was lying on her back, her hair splayed out on the pillow behind her. The sheet had slipped down to her waist; gray sunlight from the window highlighted her paleness and made the bruises on her ribs, arm, and cheek stand out in stark contrast to her alabaster skin. Her breasts were youthful and pert, her stomach taut, and her arms toned—the picture of strength and youth. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth slack, lips looking almost purple in the dim light. He settled into the overstuffed armchair across from their bed and watched her, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening that she had come home to him, intact.

A/N I don't generally like to give out plot points, but I was warned that ya'll would be worried I was setting this up to be a love triangle by bringing Jason in. The answer to that is NO I am not-that would be boring and pointless-Jason wouldn't stand a chance.