A bunch of people asked if I was going to write about the morning after scene between Logan and Veronica that I keep referencing. So here it is plus a little extra and I hope you like it.

Chapter 4

The Worst One

7:00 am Sunday July 1

She wakes up early. Earlier then Logan. Light is streaming in through the curtains as she raises her aching head from the pillow. Her hang over is fierce but it doesn't dull any of her memories from the previous night. Those she retains with startling clarity.

It had started with venom. With nasty comments and hateful banter. But there was alcohol, and by the end of the night hurt had turned to nostalgia, spite to passion. When all else failed they had always been flawless at one thing. So somehow she had ended up in the back of a limo with half her clothes off. Then pressed up against Logan's front door and in his bed. And unfortunately for Veronica Logan has withstood the test of time. He was as flawless as ever.

She can hear her phone vibrating in her purse. She was supposed to come home last night. Her father must be worried. She was also supposed to board a six am flight this morning. Jackson must be worried. Not to mention that she is seven weeks into a serial kidnapping case involving three missing little girls. Probably three dead little girls. She tries to avoid deciding if her cynicism comes from her past job experience or her past life experience.

She yawns. Rubs the sleep from her eyes. Begins to feel the weight and guilt settle back onto her. One day off and already she's falling back into a life that doesn't belong to her. That she'd run from in the first place. Fucking with Logan is inexcusable. They are supposed to be adults. She is supposed to be over this.

But she's not. Never has been. She has known Logan Echolls since she was a child. Grown up with him and grown to love him more then she'd ever imagined. She thought it would go away, had been wishing for that love to disappear for so long. But five years later she still feels it in the pit of her stomach, with the same intensity as when she used to wear his ring on her finger.

She's blaming her slip on the faces of those little girls she's searching for. Stuck inside her head on a never ending loop. The problem is that there were other little girls before that. And murdered women. And broken little boys. There will always be more. And she is getting sick of constantly seeing the worst humanity has to offer.

His arms are warm around her. Holding her tight against him. He would forgive her, he would forgive her for everything. Maybe he already does. But she would ruin it. She always does.

His eyes open as she is pulling up the zipper of her dress. And he squints and then sits up and stretches as he sighs, "I guess I should be grateful you waited until dawn to remember your complete and total aversion to me."

"Last time I checked you weren't particularly fond of me either," Veronica mumbles as she lifts Logan's pants in an attempt to find her missing heel.

He runs a hand through his already extremely tousled hair and it's nearly enough to make her want to crawl under the covers and hide away with him for the rest of her life. But the look on his face now is anything but inviting, "I wanted to marry you. Stupidly I assumed you saying yes when I proposed meant that you felt the same way. Given that you lied to and abandoned me I think my hostility is pretty damn justified."

She straightens, puts her shoe search on hold to participate in the fight he is obviously looking for. Her look is incredulous as she crosses her arms over her silk clad chest, "Is that what you think? I didn't lie to you Logan. I was twenty two, I made a mistake."

He rolls his eyes and sneers, "When you agreed to marry me or when you left me?"

She avoids the pointed and potentially valid question. But as sad as her job makes her, she can't regret trying. Knowing she was wrong now is so much better then always wondering what she would have felt. And so she replies exasperatedly, "I'm not sorry Logan. I made the right decision for myself at the time. Marrying you would have meant giving up everything."

Logan stares at her for a full minute. Just looks at her. Jaw clenched and arms crossed, with that stupid brown hair falling all around her. He seems to be permanently torn between the desire to kiss or kill her. He has never loved anyone the way he loves her. But she is exhausting and stubborn and completely incapable of admitting when she's wrong. And it's too much to deal with so early and so hungover. His voice is reserved when he accuses, "Lets just be honest. You couldn't make that sacrifice for me and you were too afraid to ask me to make it for you."

But she's not ready to give up her indignation so easily. "And you would have?" She questions skeptically before adding, "You would have given up the first career path that had ever made you even slightly happy to become some nobody in New York?"

There is something terrible in his eyes. And she sees it just before he blinks it away. There is only one thing that has ever made him happier then acting, and that is her. His face is blank as he shrugs, "I guess we'll never know."

Veronica looks away and then begins the search for her stiletto again. Anything to distract her from what's going on with Logan's face. This was such a mistake. She can't continue to avoid her regrets when they are staring at her with defeated eyes. And so she baits him flawlessly, "No, we won't. Because I did what was necessary to keep us out of divorce court ten years down the road."

Instantly the flames rekindle in his eyes, "Screw you Veronica. You think what you did was noble? You took the easy way out. It's not even original anymore. You fucked with your hair and threw yourself into a job so you could hide from your own life. Sound familiar?"

Unfortunately he is also a master at pushing her buttons. And when she locates her shoe, which is laughably sticking out of her clutch purse, she finds she can't escape. Cannot allow those to be his last words. So she hisses indignantly, "You want to pretend me being repeatedly humiliated in high school and me turning down your marriage proposal as an adult are similar situations?"

"No," he corrects immediately, "I want to point out your glaring pattern of emotional avoidance. Whenever things get too intense for you, you completely repress your emotions. You don't talk, you don't discuss, you just do whatever you want to do regardless of other people around you. And you know what's really sad? In your warped state of mind you can actually convince yourself you're doing what's best for everyone. That by lying or avoiding you're helping them, and not just further serving yourself."

She contemplates indulging in spiteful applause but instead just smirks venomously, "Wow, I didn't know that before you dropped out of college you managed to get a psychology degree."

He mirrors her expression perfectly, "I may not have graduated, but I deserve a PhD in getting fucked over by Veronica Mars."

Her phone rings again. Her emergency cellphone up to full volume. And she rubs her forehead and sighs. Reality is calling, where she and Logan don't fight anymore because they don't know each other anymore. She is going home and this will be the last time they speak. Maybe for years or forever. She doesn't know whether to be relieved or made miserable by the conclusion. She relents and he can't help but think it's about damn time, "I regret hurting you Logan. I wish that helped."

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster attempts at contrition, "I love you, you fucking sociopath. Still. Maybe always, god help me. But I have never been able to figure out what is so wrong with you that you can't just let me. And I got tired of trying a long time ago."

The emergency phone rings again. And that's not a good sign. It's a terrible sign actually, "I have to go."

And he laughs, and it's bitter and broken and exhausted. He has a great life, an amazing life. And in one day she can come back and screw everything up. Mess with him like it's apart of her goddamn job description. "What a shock," he replies.

And she turns and walks away. Like usual, he thinks cynically.

He has no idea she will be too stubborn to come back and ask him how to use his gate. That she will somehow manage to avoid his maid, chef, and assistant on her mad dash through his mansion. All of whom could have called her a cab and explained the security locks. No, his ridiculous ex fiance decides that is a much better idea to just scale his fence barefoot. Six feet tall with a den of paparazzi lurking like vultures underneath. He wakes up five hours later with her picture featured on every celebrity blog in the fucking country.

Fake brown hair everywhere. Just a perfect little reminder that despite his best efforts she is still running. And still hiding.


4:00 pm Monday September 3

She takes a deep breath before dialing the number. She's decided. She doesn't want to talk to her dad about her Jackson problem. Doesn't really want to talk to anyone about it because it would mean admitting to so much more. She would have to tell him why Jackson is so worried in the first place, why he's so angry too. She hadn't exactly painted an accurate picture to her Dad about her life in New York. Had never really explained to anyone what her job entailed. She had found vague information led to less personal questions. Fewer worried sighs and tense silences. 'It's classified' had become her go to excuse. She had played at being a badass, seen herself as untouchable. But she had been touched, over and over by so many different people and circumstances. And finally, a week and a half ago, it had been enough. A night she would never forget. A night she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried.

He answers on the first ring, "Jesus Christ Veronica, it's about time."

Her voice is even, she's detached herself from Jackson finally. They'd spent so much time together in the city. He was all she'd had to lean on when things went horrible. Which was often. But that had ended two months ago when she'd cheated and gotten caught by the American media. Now he is just an ex who can't take a hint, "You have to stop calling me Jack."

He responds immediately, "You don't just get to quit and then disappear without a word-"

"I do," she interrupts, "After everything that happened, I get to do whatever I want. Anyway, you broke up with me remember?"

"Your half naked body was plastered on every magazine across the country," he exclaims heatedly before adding in a slightly calmer tone, "This isn't about us as a couple anyway, we were friends way before we were together. You're a good agent Veronica, I don't want you to throw everything away just because you had a rough couple of months and a really bad night."

A rough couple of months? It had been a rough couple of years. Actually, Veronica Mars had had a rough life. And she seemed to constantly be making decisions that made it even worse. "It's done Jack," she sighs, "I quit. I was debriefed and I signed the papers. The FBI and I are over."

He sighs and his voice is slightly defeated as he questions, "Is this about the LM Duncan thing? Are you giving up because you think this new career as an anonymous ghost is going to be so much more rewarding?"

"I'm not giving up," she hisses, "I wanted out. And after the screw up with Logan and with launch coming in a few months, they wanted to let me out. I was breaking down Jack. And everybody could see it but you."

"You just have to tell them Veronica," he pleads, "You have to tell them what happened at the hospital after the attack. Explain it to them so they understand. The miscarriage-"

"Stop," she cries immediately. Wincing because she is in her father's bathroom in the middle of the day. This is not the time to be screaming into her phone. But also there is the sharp pain in her throat. Breath escaping her in a split second as she recalls her new worst memory.

He is contrite as he tries again, "I know it's not any of my business. I know it wasn't mine, but Veronica-"

And she reaches her breaking point. Her voice is clear and razor sharp, "Jack, I've tried to be nice but I need you to understand that I don't want anything to do with you. Don't call, don't write, don't send up a fucking smoke signal. Leave. Me. Alone." And then she hangs up with a shaky breath.

She resists the urge to throw her phone at the wall. She bites her lip but she can't stop the tears that come. Turning on the shower to cover the noise she lays her head in her hands and sobs until her eyes are raw. A little girl in a white dress turned red with blood. The butt of the gun as it comes down hard on her skull. The blows to the abdomen and back. Cold cement under her cheek as she finally blacks out. The blazing lights in the hospital. The little girl died. And then the secret. The biggest and worst of all. Something not even Mac knows.

A doctor comes in to tell her that something that barely existed in the first place is gone. And when Veronica does the math, she wishes that the man she nearly died trying to apprehend had pulled a few more punches and finished the job.

Finally, she pulls herself together. Takes a few deep breaths to steady herself and looks in the mirror until the red around her eyes fades. Then she turns off the shower and goes into the living room. Darrell is just home from school, he and Keith are sitting on the couch watching a baseball game. Keith catches her staring and pats the seat next to him, "Something wrong kid?"

"No," she lies easily, flawless smile fitted on her face before she even thinks about it, "Everything's fine Dad." She leans against him on the couch, allowing herself to feel ever so slightly safe. He is there always. And she will have to stop forgetting how important that is.

All too soon it is time to get ready to leave for dinner.


6:00 pm Monday September 3

Piz and Parker arrive right on time. Trading a Chicago heat wave for a blistering California summer. They get off the plane discussing Parker's shorts. Piz is of the opinion that they should be illegal in all fifty states. Parker's argument consists of rolling her eyes and threatening to wear sweatpants for the rest of their relationship.

They find Dick at baggage claim right as the discussion is coming to a head. "Dick," Parker demands in way of a greeting, "what do you think of my ass?"

Piz sighs and rubs his forehead while Dick looks perplexed, "Objectively? Bangin'. As a happy, about to be married guy? I've never looked at your ass in my life."

Parker shoots her boyfriend a satisfied grin, "See I'm of the delusional opinion that if a man has a great ass in his life he should appreciate it. Not bitch about it."

"I'm not bitching," Piz tries to correct, pulling their bags off the machine, "I'm concerned that the pilot who asked for your name and the flight attendant who wondered if you wanted pretzels eight times, are going to try to follow us to our hotel."

"It's hot outside," Parker observes before adding devilishly, "And I'm hot outside. How is this a problem for you?"

"Maybe Piz's closet is starting to get a little stuffy," Dick comments with a smirk, slinging a grey duffel bag over his shoulder.

"You know what?" Piz states, looking at the two exasperatedly, "I think I'll meet you both at Dick's obnoxiously expensive car." And without further comment he seizes their rolling luggage and heads to the nearest exit.

Parker watches him walk away for a few more seconds before turning to question Dick seriously, "Veronica here yet?"

Dick runs a hand through his hair as he nods, "The hurricane rolled in this morning. Mac's thrilled."

"Logan know?"

Dick grins, a memory flashing before his eyes in a split second, "As of two months ago I'm not aloud to bring up the V word in his presence. But I'm assuming yes. Guys got a lot more connections these days." He hesitates before adding, "What are the odds this is going to turn out fine?"

Parker snorts before she can stop herself, "Oh honey, Mac's really rubbing off isn't she? You better be careful because your naive is starting to show."

Piz reappears through the automatic doors and brings an abrupt halt to their conversation. He takes the last bag out of Parker's hand and rolls his eyes at the pair, "Lets hustle schemers, I'm starving and in desperate need of some of Wallace's NBA awesomeness to rub off on me."

The couple heads for the doors with Dick following close behind mumbling, "Like I said, suffocating in that closet."


6:30 pm Monday September 3

Jackie's favorite part of her house is the wraparound porch. She could sit here for hours, listening to the waves crash against the shore. She is a lucky girl. And she knows it.

An illegitimate daughter of a washed up baseball player. She'd become a single mom before she'd even become an adult. Stuck in a dead end waitressing job with a bad attitude and a rapidly fading future.

And then there was Wallace. She had no idea what she'd ever done so right to deserve him. When he'd found her in New York she'd been skeptical. But he'd kept showing up. Wearing her down seemed to be his specialty. And finally she'd smartened up and decided to stop pushing away such a great guy.

They'd gotten married almost two years ago. He'd adopted her son. Moved her mother out to Florida where she could retire. And now she has a beautiful daughter to add to her beautiful family.

Yes, she is a lucky girl.

His arms wrap around her waist and pull her close, one eye on the beach and the other on the rise and fall of her throat, "You don't have to cook."

She sighs, smiling and reaching behind her to wrap her arms around his neck, "I like to cook."

Wallace sighs and kisses her lightly on her shoulder, laughing softly, "I think the liquor is going to be the biggest hit tonight no matter how amazing your pasta is baby."

"Veronica seemed good at the airport," Jackie points out, "I don't think she's going to start anything."

"It's not her I'm worried about," Wallace replies, "These days Logan starts it and Veronica tries like hell to finish it."

Jackie doesn't care. She likes Veronica and Logan's nice too. They've been idiots for each other for as long as she can remember and it's ridiculous that it still hasn't drawn into some concrete conclusion. She'd just as soon wash her hands of the entire situation. But Wallace cares. He loves Veronica like a sister. And that changes everything. Her eyebrows knit together, "I can't understand it. How, after all this time, can they still be so obsessed with each other?"

Wallace takes a second before answering, "Well, I think it's like us. Sometimes someone just gets in your system and they never get out."

Jacking scowls, "Please don't compare us to them. I don't want to be tortured Wallace. I want to be just like this. Happy, always."

He twists her in his arms so he can kiss her soundly on the mouth, "It's a promise."

A rumble of thunder breaks their spell. And she sighs, hoping the sky chooses to erupt after their group of guests have arrived. Also hoping their guests wait to erupt until after they've exited her impeccably decorated home. She looks up at her husband, "We should take the tables inside, there's a storm coming."

More to come soon. Review please!