A/N: Yet another update. Only a couple more chapters to go, hope you are still enjoying this story. It's finally getting less angsty, I promised there was an end in sight on that front. Lot's of great comments, suggestions, reviews. Thank you so much, I love hearing from you all, the ones I can thank via PM and also guest & Nichole (I tried to address a few of your questions in here, some will be addressed next update). I'd like to send a shout out to cainc3 for doing yet another action read through, much appreciated! Glad you're back to our VM fandom Turquoise Dragonfly. lateVMlover-thanks for the helping me with some fact checking research. Okay, 'nuff from me. Enjoy...

Obligatory disclaimer-Nope, still do NOT own VM and the rest of the RT universe. I love to play in it though.

Chapter 21—Regeneration

***Hearst College, Thursday afternoon, Intro to Microeconomics class***

Mac was trying to focus on what her Microeconomics professor was droning on about. It was the last class before Finals week and she had missed Tuesday's class on account of the fact she had still felt like crap from Saturday night's beat down. Yup, she was definitely just a vegan computer nerd at heart.

Her eye was considerably less swollen but still bruised and yucky looking. The yucky looking description was a direct quote from Parker. Her roommate had been mother-henning her for the past several days. It was sweet at first, but trending towards annoying now.

"Corey Hart, you can take those sunglasses off now," the professor said looking directly at her.

Mac didn't really get that comment but being that she was the only one in class sporting shades she knew it was obviously aimed at her. She took off the Raybans Logan had given her and couldn't keep the smirk off her face at the double take the professor did when she saw the condition of her eye.

"You can put the sunglasses back on, Miss Mackenzie," she said at last. "I didn't realize it was for medical reasons."

Mac immediately put them back on. It was actually more of a cosmetic decision for her, but the sunglasses did help with the glare of the harsh artificial lights.

She did a Google search on her laptop, hunting and pecking on the account of her broken wrist and found out that the professor had been making an obscure 80s reference. She was sure her parents had danced to the song "Sunglasses at Night" back in the day. Professors really needed to know their audience.

William, the kid who usually sat next to her in this class looked over at her with interest. He whistled. "That's a hell of black eye, bet it hurts."

"It's just a little tender. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy," Mac leaned over and whispered in his ear. They'd bumped into each other at a Pi Sig party Friday night. She hadn't realized he liked her until that night. She'd politely spurned his advances though; it was a working party for her. She'd been keeping tabs on one of Dick's Frat brothers and hoping to find out who the missing link was. At that point she hadn't known it was her ex, Max. Once she had discovered that little tidbit though things quickly got out of hand leaving her with two big souvenirs from the whole incident—the black eye and a broken wrist.

"Seriously? I thought you were in a car accident or something," he whispered back, pointing to her cast.

"Or something. It's a long, boring story. I'd tell you but you'd fall asleep" Mac said to get him off the subject of her injuries. "Plus, I'm a little behind in here since I missed Tuesday. Is there anything she covered that I need to know for the final?"

William started to give her a brief rundown of the topics covered during the last class, but then the professor took the opportunity to glare at them, so then he promised to make her a copy of his notes. They agreed to meet in the union later that afternoon so he could drop off the copies.

Mac had been planning to stop by the union for a soy latte anyway . She hadn't seen Dick since Sunday and had been hoping to convince him to meet up with her after his last class. She was pretty sure it wouldn't take a lot of arm twisting on her part. He'd emailed her a couple times that week, since texting wasn't an option these days on the account of the bad fate her iPhone met over the weekend. They were just brief little check-ins, making sure she was doing okay, and not in too much pain. It was nice that they were communicating again. She'd missed him more than she realized. Or, if she were really honest with herself, she missed him more than she had been allowing herself to admit.

They still needed to have the talk, but she didn't feel quite ready. The fact of the matter was that she just wanted—needed?—to see Dick.

After class was over, Mac packed up everything as fast as she could with the cast. She wanted to catch Dick who had a class across the hall from hers. William took pity on her and helped her slip her laptop into the case. She thanked him and muttered that she'd see him in the union in an hour. He looked a little dejected, they'd fallen back into the habit of walking out of class together since she and Dick had broken up, but she didn't dwell on that.

Exiting the classroom and joining the crush of students in the wide hallway of Prentiss Hall, Mac searched for the familiar lanky build of Dick. Smiling to herself, she saw a shaggy head of blonde hair about 10 feet ahead of her.

She sped up and cut around a group of kids directly in front of her. Relieved that Dick was not surrounded by his frat stooges or worse a group of flirty bimbos flocking around, she tapped him on his back. He turned around, a wide grin overtaking his face when he saw her.

"I was hoping to see you," Dick said in greeting. "I figured that dude who usually pants after you would be trailing after you like a lovesick puppy."

"William? He's a buddy; we are on the same track, that's all. He's a computer geek, too," Mac scoffed. She couldn't help finding a little enjoyment from Dick's apparent jealousy though. "He's giving me his notes from Tuesday's class. Anyway, I was thinking of getting a latte in the union; do a little last minute cramming for finals. Maybe you want to join me after your last class?" The last bit was said shyly, she didn't even look him in the eye.

Dick stooped a little, trying to look Mac in her still downcast eyes. "Sounds good, I'll be there right after Geology. I'm a little scared to go to my class, actually," he confessed. "I sort of ditched Meredith on our date Saturday night, I don't think she likes me very much these days."

"That's right, your date. I forgot about that," Mac said a little awkwardly. "I forgot to ask you about it. Where were my manners? I guess I was a little distracted Saturday."

"Well, since I ditched my date at the restaurant to save your ass from Max I'd say it wasn't one of my better dates. There is one in particular date that springs to mind though when I think about the best ones I've even been on. Anyway, I took this really cool, quirky girl to dinner at this authentic Mexican dive restaurant, where we stuffed ourselves on vegan food and then went to the San Diego symphony."

"If memory serves, you got the fish tacos. I don't recall those being particularly vegan," Mac pointed out.

"Oh whatever, close enough," Dick said. "Everyone knows fish isn't meat," he smiled at her eye roll. She spared him a lecture though, knowing he'd heard it all before.

They descended the stairs to the first floor; he kept a protective hand on Mac's back as though he was afraid she'd fall and get injured again. As they continued their trek from Prentiss Hall, through the door and out into the quad Dick's hand didn't leave its perching place. It felt right, like home, he noticed Mac wasn't objecting. "How's your wrist?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Okay. Better now," Mac reassured him. She wiggled her fingers from under the annoying cast. It was starting to drive her crazy, but at least the pain wasn't too bad—it was down to a tolerable ache. She still felt empowered however, and that was a much better souvenir than a cast. Longer lasting, too, she hoped.

The sun was out and the temperature kept climbing. Summer always made its entrance early in Neptune. The south quad was a popular sun bathing spot. The lawn was cluttered with bikini clad co-eds spread out on towels soaking up the sun, while scores of guys playing games of full-contact Frisbee or tossing a hackey-sac back and forth were trying to be covert about their scenery intake. Usually Dick wasn't one to miss a viewing opportunity himself, but this time he was focused entirely on the girl walking beside him.

"Well Scrappy Doo this is where we part," Dick said as they came up to the sprawling building that housed the student union. "Meet you in about an hour, our usual table?"

"Our usual table? I wasn't aware we had a table, let alone a usual one. How about you join me in an hour at whatever table I want, or am lucky enough to scrounge up?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Mac Mackenzie, but I'll agree to your terms. Now, wish me luck. I may well encounter bodily harm the next hour, especially if looks could maim."

"Oh, poor baby," Mac said not at all sympathetically, pointing to her cast as a reminder that she was the one who had recently endured bodily harm.

They waved and went off in separate directions.

***/***

Dick made a point of entering Geology right before class started.

He was the first to admit he was doing a little chickenshit avoiding of two members of a class that only had 20 enrollees as it was. True to her word, Meredith was in the last seat of the last row of the small room, as geographically far away as was possible from where she and Dick normally sat.

Before committing to a seat—in the opposite end of the room—Dick searched out Matt Kassel, his frat brother who had been supplying Max with the "study kit" merchandise. To his relief Matt was absent.

He found a seat in the middle of the first row, a sucker seat really but the pickings were slim. He'd skipped class Tuesday, and the only thing that made him find the nerve to show up for this class was the fact that he really couldn't afford grade-wise to miss the exam review.

He was a little embarrassed about seeing Meredith, but really it was the thought of being in the same room as Matt that made him nauseated. He didn't think he had the willpower to resist the urge to make the guy bleed. Max had gotten a pass, on account of the head injury scrappy Mac had gifted him with, but Matt was even more responsible in Dick's point of view. He got some satisfaction though from the possibility that Matt was doing some chickenshit avoiding of his own.

The associate professor recapped everything they'd covered the entire semester, cliff-noting some topics, going more in depth on others. Dick tried to concentrate, writing down anything the guy seemed to particularly stress. He took so many notes his hand started cramping up. He put the pen down and idly opened and closed his fist a couple of times to loosen his hand back up again, and then resumed his note taking.

Mac kept invading his thoughts, splintering his focus.

He'd say she had been on his mind non-stop since the Great Mac Rescue Saturday night but really she'd never left his mind since the pause-button fiasco.

His dad's death had left shrapnel behind and he was still picking up the remnants. He would be doing that for a very long time. Cassidy's loss had driven that sad fact home last year. But the crux of it was that isolating yourself wasn't a good plan. That had been the idea behind the infamous pause button, and it was an epic fail. That realization had crept up on him for a while but had been brutally underscored when he saw the condition of Mac Saturday after her fight with Max. The thought of losing her too was more than he could take.

He shut down those dark thoughts and forced himself to pay attention to the exam review. Once he finished discussing rock formations, the professor started in on concepts like Principles of Inclusion and Components. Dick dutifully took notes and watched the clock tick down the minutes until it was time to meet Mac.

Fifteen minutes, but who was counting?!

***/***

Mac took a sip of her latte and once again returned her gaze to the Microeconomic notes from Tuesday that William had just dropped off.

As she took another drink her eyes drifted up to the clock on the wall over the food court entrance. Fifteen minutes until Dick joined her, but who was counting?!

She had thought that she was starting to accept their split; she had even cut her hair, which Veronica termed one of the 5 steps of a break up. Then things started fracturing in Max's apartment Saturday night, she was more scared than she had ever been in her life, she was hurting all over, and when the adrenaline that had been allowing her to keep focus leaked out all she could think about was Dick crashing through the door and rescuing her distressed-damsel self. What they could salvage between them she didn't know, hell maybe there really wasn't anything left (she didn't truly believe that), but they both needed to get things out on the table.

Mac forced herself to stop concentrating on Dick and to get back into the microeconomics frame of mind. She was brushing up on marginal utility and elasticity of demand when she looked up and saw Dick heading toward her. Their eyes met and he smiled.

Dick placed the tray he had been carrying down in front of the chair across from Mac. He reached over and placed a roasted veggie pita sandwich and another latte in front of her, then sat down. Dick unwrapped the paper lining from his own chicken sandwich, and then took a big bite as he watched Mac attack her pita with gusto.

"Thank you," she murmured between bites. "I was famished."

Dick smiled at her in return.

As they ate their dinner, no one said much but it wasn't an uncomfortable, awkward quiet. Mac studied Dick as she nibbled her sandwich. A strand of blonde hair had fallen so it was partially blocking his right eye. Mac had a sudden urge to reach over and smooth it out of the way. He wouldn't have minded, but she held back anyway.

Baby steps…

Dick noticed the way she was studying him. Self-consciously he tucked the wayward strand of hair which had fallen into his face back behind his ear. He popped the last bit of the chicken in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "You sure you're doing okay, I mean really?" he asked breaking up the silence. It had been weighing on his mind, she had been adding mass to his thoughts.

"I'm sure," Mac said, her eyes focusing on the table. She knew he was referring to all the internal messiness that went along with Saturday's adventures as well as the physical pain. She was healing on both fronts, the nightmares that had paid her frequent visits the past few nights were lessening. "Thanks," she murmured. "So you look like you survived Geology intact."

"I didn't need a bodyguard after all. She avoided me like we'd never met."

"Well good, I'm glad that you weren't attacked by a mob of angry sorority girls."

"Me too, those chicks can be vicious."

They continued to chat, more casual sufacey stuff, neither of them wanted to risk the easy rapport they'd quickly fallen back into by bringing up the divisions that had spread out between them lately. The dinner crowd came and went in waves as they continued joking and teasing, not really aware of what went on around them. It was only when Mac yawned that Dick even glanced up at the clock perched on the wall. It was nearly 8.

"You're tired, and I've got to get back home anyway, I was kind of thinking of trying something new next week anyway," Dick started to say.

"What's that?" Mac inquired.

"Applying myself academically," Dick replied. "You know something new and different for me. I might even study a little bit tonight, between beers at least. Anyway, maybe we can, um, continue this chat this weekend. Saturday, maybe?" It came out in a rush. He'd wanted to try to hide how nervous he was feeling, but figured that had given him away. What the hell, asking someone out for a second first date shouldn't be that hard, right?

"Saturday would be fine," Mac said smiling softly at him, and then her glance landed on the clock, too. "I have to get going, too. Parker will send a search party out if I'm not home by 9."

"Parker is your keeper now?" Dick asked raising an eyebrow.

"No, not my keeper exactly, but she's been a bit overprotective since I went back home Sunday night. We came to an agreement last year, after, well you know…" her voice trailed off. Then she continued "anyway, I'd told her I'd have her back and now she's decided she needs to have mine or I might end up broken again. Also, apparently my eye looks yucky."

"That's a little harsh," he said. "Let me see what your eye looks like now, take your shades off there, Scrappy Doo."

She did as he asked and Dick whistled when he saw her eye again. "Okay, put them back on. It still looks yucky."

"Gee, thanks," Mac said reaching over and hitting him.

He laughed and put his hands up in a mock surrender. "I'm teasing, relax. It still looks painful, but not nearly as bad as it did Sunday."

They both got up, Dick gathered up their trash. On the way out the exit he stopped by the garbage can to throw it all away. He walked her all the way to the commuter lot where both their vehicles were parked. His was on the opposite end as hers but he waved away her offer to drop him back at his truck.

Dick leaned down to kiss her but just then she adjusted slightly and he ended up making contact with her forehead. "See you Saturday, Mac. Maybe we could have a picnic on the beach?"

"A picnic on the beach sounds perfect. We can just get carry out or something," Mac acquiesced. She was still tingling where Dick had briefly brushed his lips. She'd missed those lips.

Before she could ravage him in the parking lot, Mac got into her car. She waved at him then pulled away, watching him from her rearview mirror until he wasn't even a speck.

***Friday afternoon, Hearst College Quad***

Dick was in a great mood, and he was pretty sure nothing could put a damper on things. He'd (almost) survived his sophomore year of college—well, there were still finals, but he was pretty confident he'd pass every one of them; some might be more like barely squeaking by, but still passing was passing. The sun was shining; it was yet another beautiful late spring day in a string of warm, beautiful days. Of course the biggest reason he was so happy was Mac.

He was looking forward to his date—or whatever the hell label she wanted to put on it—the following day at Dog Beach. They'd finally get to talk, and who knew where that would lead. Well, he had a few ideas in mind where it could lead, but even if those fantasies didn't come true so quickly, he had to believe things with Mac were almost back to good. Hell, he'd settle for back to decent. He'd meant it when he told her the night she'd been attacked that he just needed her in his life, and whatever scrap she felt like throwing at him he'd accept. He might not like it, but he'd accept whatever role Mac cast him in if it kept him in her life, even just the fringes. Still though, he was holding out hope for more of a starring role.

Logan ran up to him, interrupting his reverie.

"Hey man, I've been calling your name for like two minutes," Logan said, still panting from running to catch Dick. "Didn't you hear me?"

"No, obviously not dude, I was thinking about something else."

"Someone else," Logan corrected, "Mac."

"Gee, where'd you get your crystal ball" Dick said sarcastically, smirking at Logan, who matched the gesture then took it up a notch.

By unspoken agreement they sat down on the stone retaining wall that outlined the perimeter of the quad. Their banter turned back to classes, and then after they made quick work of that topic they started talking about Ronnie's dad's wedding. Logan started teasing Dick about whose plus one he'd end up being, his or Mac's.

Dick was about to make a sarcastic rejoinder when he saw the familiar, stocky build of a guy who reminded him of Matt Kassel at the other end of the quad. At least he was fairly certain the guy in question was Matt. He watched as the dude walked closer, by that point it was clear to him that it was Matt.

Logan caught the flash of anger on Dick's face and tracked where his friend's gaze was locked in on. Logan knew instantly who the unlucky target of his friend's rage was. That football player looking dude with those big shoulders and the standard issue jock crew cut was the one who had been partnering with Max on the Study Kits. Logan remembered meeting him a couple of times, including the week before last at Dick's birthday party. It seemed a lot longer than that, time had seemed to slow down since the events of the previous weekend.

"Feel like doing a little teaching right now?" Dick asked before Logan could say anything. "That's Matt Kassel, my frat brother," Dick said layering the word brother with venom. "He's the brainchild behind the Fitzpatrick's study kit marketing ploy."

"Of course I'm up to doing a little teaching," Logan replied quickly. "I remember Matt. We met a couple of times."

"Let's do it!" Dick said, and without waiting for a response Dick jumped down from the wall and rushed over to the bigger guy.

Logan took his cue and jumped off the wall too, running to catch up to Dick. He remembered all the brawls he'd instigated while Dick stood by his side fighting with him and for him. He watched Dick run full speed ahead knocking Matt down onto the ground.

When Logan got there Dick was already on top of Matt's body, which was spread out on the ground. He was pinning the larger guy down by sitting on top of him. He was cursing and punching Matt's face. Blood was gushing out of the guy's nose.

Logan watched as Matt made a few attempts to land a few blows on Dick. He knew this was Dick's fight and he wasn't going to stop it without a good reason. At first most of Matt's attempts at self-defense were feeble, but as he started getting angrier he started thrashing around more and his hits started making more contact with Dick. One stronger punch made contact near Dick's mouth, another one connected to his jaw. Logan cringed as his friend's head jerked back.

Logan had no plans to intervene however until he looked over and saw 2 brown uniforms running towards them. A do-gooder bystander must have called the campus cops. Not so gently he pulled Dick away from the still prone figure, ignoring the vitriolic words pouring from both guys.

Judging that he had a little time before the out-of-shape rent-a-cops reached the scene, and unable to let go of his own anger at Matt for not-so-indirectly being involved in what happened to Mac, and for hurting Dick too, he gave the defenseless guy a swift kick between his legs. The guy's grunt of pain was satisfying, and Logan kind of wished he felt bad for feeling that, but the truth was he didn't feel an angstrom of guilt over any of it. He never had been the type to look the other way when it came to someone hurting those he cared about and he had several scars to prove it.

Dick noticed the crowd was swelling up and folding over them. He gently fingered his jaw line and tried not to flinch. He watched wearily as the campus cops—figure heads to his way of thinking—descended on them. There was no time to run and at this point he really didn't want to.

The adrenaline ebbed from him seemingly at once. He mentally planned what to say as the burly cops escorted the three of them to the campus substation. Honestly, he was glad to finally have the chance to bring the law into the equation because Ronnie sure the hell had dropped the ball on things. She always had to do things her way, and normally he didn't care but this time her obstinacy had hurt Mac and that made it his business. One glance at Logan told him that his friend was on a similar wavelength.

***Saturday afternoon, Mac's apartment***

Mac was trying to get ready for her picnic date as best she could with only the use of one and a half hands. Awkwardly using her left hand, Mac ran the brush through her short cropped hair. Looking up her eyes met Parker's in the bathroom mirror. She was leaning up against the door frame watching Mac struggle to do it all on her own. She smirked and cocked her head as though to say "are you sure you don't want to take me up on my offer to help?"

"I've got this, really," Mac said out loud in response to the silent question.

Parker's expression was skeptical as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's not even really a date," Mac continued.

"No? You seem to taking more care than usual with your appearance, you know, for a non-date. Plus, if you want, Miss Independent, I can show you a trick to lessen the appearance of the black eye. Well, unless, of course, you were going for the wrestler look."

"That's exactly the look I was striving for," Mac teased. "But since you are just standing there, looking bored I guess I could do you a favor and allow you practice your make up mojo on my eye."

Parker gave her a mock-glare. "Gee, thanks for the favor," she grumped but crossed over anyway to where Mac was standing and started rummaging through the make-up bag looking for concealer. Parker loved giving make-over's, she was in her element. She wasn't surprised to discover the rest of the requisite creams and powders weren't among Mac's meager make-up collection, so she rounded up the rest of the supplies from her own much larger stash she kept in the cabinet under the sink. Parker triumphantly held up a bottle of some strange pale green liquid.

"What the hell is that?" Mac asked not masking her concern.

"Stay still, keep your eyes closed, and let me work my magic. I'll be careful," Parker instructed.

Mac followed Parker's directives and kept her eyes shut, she flinched once when the brush pressed a little too firmly against her tender bruise, but otherwise Parker kept her word and took extra care as she applied green tint first to diminish the bruising, then a concealer to cover the shades of purple and red ringing Mac's eye. Next she lightly coated her index finger with mauve lipstick and with feather touches layered it over the whole area. Finally, she used a cotton puff to apply a powder foundation.

With her eyes still squenched shut Mac finally admitted, "it might be a date. I don't know. Dick never mentioned the D-word. If he meant it to be a date, he'd have said it right?"

"Not necessarily. We are talking about Dick here," Parker said as though that explained it all. She put down her applicator puff and stood back to admire her handiwork. "Mac, open your eyes. I'm done. You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm fine." Mac opened her eyes, and then her mouth in surprise. "Wow! It's almost totally disappeared. Poof. If your teaching gig doesn't work out, might I suggest you take up a career in the make-up arts?"

"Well, if your computer gig doesn't work out, might I suggest not taking up a career as an undercover vice cop," Parker retorted, then admitted, "I did actually think about a career as a make-up artist when I was younger. As you know, I did theater in high school."

"Yes, I may have heard about your drama geek days four or five hundred times before," Mac affirmed.

"Drama diva," Parker corrected.

"Drama diva days," Mac conceded, accentuating the alliteration. "Anyway, thank you for putting your mad makeup skills to good use."

"Anything for a good cause," Parker said.

"Good cause?" Mac asked, letting the surprise she felt show on her face.

"Yes, good cause," Parker repeated. "In a strange way, you've been happier this week than I've seen you since, well, you know, the break up. I mean, you've been in a good mood other than the times you were moping around bitching about how much your wrist and eye hurt, of course." She grinned at the glare Mac gifted her with.

"Hey, now," Mac said indignantly, "I have a much higher tolerance for pain than you do. Remember when you stubbed your toe a couple months ago? You'd have thought it had gangrene in it; you wouldn't quit crying about it for days. It was like the world was ending or something."

"That really hurt," Parker screeched.

"Yeah, so does my broken wrist," Mac reminded her. "I feel, I don't know, like Dick and I are less fractured now, if that makes any sense. I don't know if I can chance taking him back yet or even if he wants me back, but we're in a better place and yes, that does make me happy I guess."

"Oh, he wants you back," Parker said confidently. "I know you want him back, too. Promise me though that you'll actually try to work through everything first and not just look once into his eyes, swoon and take him on the beach."

"No swooning, got it," Mac grinned and with her left hand mimed making a check mark in the air. "And I'll wait until after dinner to take him on the beach," she said winking.

Before anything more could be said about swooning though, there was a knock at the door. Parker indicated to Mac to stay put and she headed off to answer the door.

Mac took one more look in the mirror and decided she looked presentable enough for a beach picnic-pseudo date with her ex-boyfriend. Idly she wondered if Martha Stewart had any advice on her website for just such an occasion. Doubtful! She was just going to have to wing it.

"What the hell happened to your face?" Mac heard Parker exclaim. She heard Dick grumble something in response, but his voice was too soft to make out any of the words. Curious, Mac turned around and exited the bathroom, turning off the light switch as she walked by.

Entering the living room she saw Dick stationed by the front door. Their eyes met at the same time. She noticed a trail of faint bruises on his face and bandages around 3 of his knuckles. "Dick?" She gasped out at last.

"It's nothing Mackie," he assured her, not even really realizing at first that he'd lapsed back into his special nickname for her. "I ran into Matt yesterday on campus. He'd been avoiding me in class I guess."

"I think I can understand his reasoning," Mac said finally. She went over to Dick and gave him a brief hug. Then she gently traced his face with her left index finger, avoiding the bruises. Then she picked up his hand and ghosted the bandages, again not wanting to hurt him.

"I see your eye isn't bruised and yucky anymore."

"It's a miracle, I woke up and it had evidently disappeared overnight," Mac teased with a straight face.

"Regeneration, maybe it's your superpower after all," Dick rejoined, playing along.

"Maybe," she admitted. "I'm kind of hoping it might be our superpower." She just shrugged though at his questioning glance, he didn't press her.

At that point Parker said good night and ducked back toward her room.

"Parker is talented in the make-up arts; she covered my bruised eye up for me. I didn't know the bruised look was in these days; guess I'm a trendsetter. Anyway, she could cover the bruises on your jaw," Mac confessed. "Does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," Dick insisted, not fully answering the question. "I think it makes me look tough, so as manly as a makeover sounds, I'll pass. Thanks though." He gestured at the door and she nodded. They made their way down the sets of stairs and headed out to his waiting truck.

Once they were both belted up, Dick started the truck. He listed a few places they could pick up dinner to go and take it back to Dog Beach for their picnic.

"What's that last place you mentioned? I don't think I've heard of it before," Mac inquired.

"Soup R Crackers. It's a new place that just opened not far from the beach. They have soups obviously, and salads, which I know you veg heads like. I can't believe you've never heard of it before. They're only the fastest growing non-chicken and non-coffee franchise in Southern California." Dick grinned.

"Gee, must be the rock I live under," Mac joked. "The soup and crackers place is fine. I'm assuming they'll have a pretty good vegan selection."

"It's Soup R Crackers," Dick reiterated. "They do, I only brought up places that had a lot of things you could eat. I've actually retained a little bit of the training you attempted on me."

"Good to know it didn't go to waste; I spent a lot of time molding you."

Twenty-five minutes later they pulled up to a spot in the public lot by Dog Beach. Dick grabbed the big quilt from the backseat of his truck and then walked around to Mac's side. He opened her door and took the bags of food from her. After she carefully jumped out of the cab, he draped the quilt over her good arm and carried everything else for their picnic himself.

They pretty much had the beach to themselves. Dick placed the bags on the sand and took the quilt from Mac's outstretched hands. He set to work spreading it out and laying out their meal. Mac stretched out and watched Dick get their meal ready. She loved his big, strong capable hands. She listened to the waves crashing onto shore, the tang of the salty air mixed with the smells of the soups as Dick took the lids off their individual containers.

She reached into one of the bags Dick had brought with them, expecting to find a plastic spoon, and instead she made contact with a big square object. Curious she lifted it up and found an iPhone. It was sporting a black case with silver skulls decorating it, very cool. She had never seen it before; it definitely wasn't Dick's phone. Mac cocked her head.

"I thought, well Ronnie and I both thought you could use a new phone, and since you lost yours in the line of duty, we decided to go tandem on the new 3G iPhone."

"Oh Dick, thank…Wait a minute, what did you just say?"

"3G," Dick repeated.

"You realize the release date for that the 3Gs aren't until July, right?"

"I may have a few connections left on the west coast."

"Thank you so much. You didn't have to do this, you know."

"Ronnie is footing part of the bill too," Dick reminded her. Mac could tell he was picking up most of the tab on that purchase though, and he certainly had the funds for that, too. "We'll call it part of her restitution."

"Thank you, really," Mac added yet again. Then she cocked her head as his last cryptic statement registered.

"You're welcome, really," Dick replied. "I don't like the idea of you not having a phone to call for help or anything." He ignored her head tilt.

"I've missed having a cell phone more than I thought I would. I solemnly swear I won't let a psycho ex destroy this one," Mac said attempting a little levity. She could tell Dick wasn't as amused as she was about how they spent last Saturday night. Well, she wasn't amused by the situation either, but sometimes using humor was the best processing technique there was. "What did you mean about it being Vee's restitution though?" It was obvious he wasn't going to explain that statement without a little urging.

Dick reached into a different bag and grabbed 2 spoons. He pressed one into Mac's left hand, keeping the other one for his own bowl of chicken tortilla soup. He breathed deeply as the smell of his favorite soup wafted up to him. The temperature had dropped about 10 degrees from the afternoon high, though it was still very pleasant out. He watched the waves roll in and out, in that perfect rhythm only Mother Nature could achieve. A soft breeze was kicking up and he watched Mac's hair ripple in response. She was watching him, waiting for him to verbalize what had been eating him up for the past week.

He took a big spoonful of his soup, letting the warm broth wash down his throat as he considered his reply. Mac had a basic idea that her best friend was not high on his list of favorite people at the present time, but he didn't think she knew all that had happened behind the scenes last weekend and how badly things had gotten screwed up in the aftermath.

Mac took a big bite of her vegan squash and coconut milk "cream" soup, then she waved her casted arm in an impatient, 'hurry it up' gesture.

Dick took a deep breath and explained more about the fight he had yesterday with Matt and the hours of questioning afterwards with both the campus cops and later Deputy Sacks as he and Logan helped them make sense of the complicated web Matt and his relatives and Max had weaved with their study kit enterprise.

He meticulously worked backward to the nailbiting time spent tracking down Max's apartment and how inept everything in the whole undercover operation had been run. He vented his anger about Ronnie's single mindedness about her cases, how unorganized things ended up because she refused to plan for every contingency (despite her belief that she had). It felt good; especially that it was Mac he was venting to.

He could tell from her expressions he wasn't convincing her but she let him make his case first before reiterating it was Max who was actually to blame. She did admit though she felt safer knowing that the law was finally involved instead of Veronica and Molly's internal bargain.

"I'm a little surprised to be hearing this from you though," she confessed before taking another bite of the delicious soup.

"I told Ronnie I'd tell you myself, plus a lot of things are still being sorted out and with Mr. Mars' doing that consulting gig now he's pretty annoyed with her. I'm sure you'll get hauled into things next week. I tried to keep you out of it as much as possible. That didn't work out that well though."

"Thanks, but I don't think that was on the table anyway. On the bright side though I'm about to have so much experience with court cases maybe if the computer programming track doesn't work I can go into the law," Mac assured him.

"You may also be the one person in Neptune to take down the Fitzpatricks and the Boyds thanks to all the breadcrumbs you scattered for the cops."

"Breadcrumb trails are the only way Sheriff Van Moron is able to solve a crime. However, you're right; it was our testimony that shut down the Boyd contingent. Bruce is going away for 25 years," Mac reminded Dick. She'd just leaned the outcome of the trial she and Dick had testified in 2 weeks ago stemming from her hit and run not-so accident the previous semester. "Still, I hope they can plea bargain this case down, and then maybe I won't have to move to Ohio and change my name."

"Ohio?" Dick asked.

"It just seems like the perfect place to hide out," Mac shrugged, "at least according to the movies."

He just laughed and then shifted so he could dig back into the softsided cooler bag he'd stashed the drinks in. "Thirsty?"

"I am," Mac said.

Dick grabbed a bottle of beer for himself and the bottle of Merlot by a vegan-friendly winery he'd remembered she liked. Digging a little deeper he also found the plastic cup and wine opener he'd also made a point of stashing in there.

Mac smiled her thanks as she accepted the glass of wine he handed over.

The quiet settled in around them as they sipped their drinks and finished their soup. It didn't last long though.

Mac tracked the complicated flight pattern of five seagulls flying over the ocean, they were zigging and zagging dodging one another like kamikaze pilots. "How are you doing these days?" she asked finally.

"Surviving, mostly," Dick said softly, briefly drawing his gaze to the seagulls above. He took a drink of his beer. Absently he rubbed the fingers of the hand not holding the beer against a worn corner of the quilt he'd grabbed for the picnic. It had once been bright blue with cars and trucks printed on it. Time had long ago faded it out. It was one of the few things he'd taken to the hotel from his childhood house; it had been Cassidy's when he was a little boy.

For some reason remembering Cass' childhood hurt just a little less than the more recent memories. Maybe it had something to do with the fact Dick always found himself overanalyzing those events of the past few years dreading the possibility that they may contain some clue he had been too stupid at the time to see. He looked down in time to see Mac's hand drawing close. She made contact, giving him a gentle squeeze then leaving it there.

"One loss is hard enough; you have had two unexpected losses in less than two years. That would throw anyone for a loop," Mac said, empathy wrapping itself around her words.

"Would breaking up with you fall under the category of 'a loop'?"

"We didn't break up, we just hit the pause button, remember?" Mac couldn't resist throwing that in his face.

Dick took his penance. "Fair enough," he said. He knew her opinion of that phrase he'd lobbed in her face, and he knew Ronnie and Logan's take on it too.

Every time he thought he'd made peace with the whole concept of loss it smacked him upside the head again. His first several months of life without Cassidy had been spent drowning in vodka, but eventually the pain that had been choking him eased, and he was able to swim up to the surface more and more. The pain was less acute, still there but a little easier to deal with. He made peace with Mac for how he had treated her and his brother when they'd been dating. Slowly over the course of last summer they'd developed this sort of hybrid gaming buddies/kissing friendship. It probably wouldn't have developed any deeper though if Mac hadn't been hurt at the start of fall semester. Things had been going great with Mac, they had been happily dating for several months then his dad died. It really had thrown him for a loop—again.

Mac possessed that rare ability to read every emotion that crossed his face, and he hated that. Sometimes though he almost believed she could hack into his brain like those computers she ruled over. When his dad died, also in a front page news kind of way just like Cass the year before, it occurred to Dick that people who didn't know his whole sordid history, didn't know he was that Cassablancas, didn't know the guilt he carried around with him like another limb and extension of himself; well, they were a lot easier to be around than people like Mac who could read every wave of grief that washed over him.

Only that was utter bullshit.

He'd been changed, the pre-11:58 June 9, 2006 Dick Cassablancas didn't exist anymore and never would. Unfortunately it took a big figurative smack over his head to wake him up to the fact that there were scarier things out there than being around people who knew the real you and didn't run away screaming. Losing them, for one thing.

"So," Mac took a deep breath and once again turned her attention to the seagull air show. The sun was starting it's descent, painting the sky in shades of hazy purple and mauve, contrasting with the turquoise of the ocean. "Why are you ready now to hit play again? Or are you? Am I reading too much into things now?" She took a big sip of her wine, holding it in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.

"No," Dick said. "I mean, yes," he tried again as she gifted him with a sharp look. "I am ready to hit play again. I discovered there are scarier things out there than being with people who know me deep down, have seen all the ugliness in my life and for some reason tolerate me anyway."

Mac just looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I could have lost you, Mackie. You ground me in ways I didn't have a frakking clue about until I didn't have it anymore."

"Lost me?"

"Yeah," Dick's voice was gruff. He couldn't elaborate any further, like the words got stuck coming up. He didn't even try to explain further. His fingers worked the threadbare patch of the quilt.

Having just thought of 11:58 again reminded him that he'd never told her about that. Clearing his throat, he said "when your phone went offline last week it was at 11:58 PM. I remember that clearly, like it's just etched in. The night of graduation, I remember Sacks standing there trying to tell me about Cass, I happened to glance up at the clock, it was 11:58. At that instant I knew nothing would ever be the same in my life. I gave those stupid little numbers way too much power. So when I saw it was 11:58 last Saturday and we didn't know where you were or what was happening to you all I could think of was selfishly I couldn't lose you too. I refuse to lose you."

"I'm here now, and I'm fine."

"Yes, you are here now, and you're doing great," Dick agreed. "Anyway, it was like life gave me a do-over with you, and I don't want to waste it. It was torture watching you in pain, not being able to help you."

Her answering gaze was full of censure. "I know a little something about being sidelined."

"I know," he said softly. "It took being on the other side of the fence though to really get it."

"So what happens next time?"Mac asked.

Dick looked confused.

"Next time life kicks more crap your way," she clarified.

"We deal with it together, same as the next time Ronnie embroils you in one of her cases. My life is certainly less boring with you in it. Plus, with that mean right hook, I'm kind of afraid to get on your bad side," Dick assured her. His eyes held a teasing gleam at the last part.

"Next time I work a case with Vee?"

"I assume she'll need your help again, and you can't say no to her. What, did you think I'd just fling you over my shoulder and take you back to my lair caveman style and never let you take any risks at all?" Dick replied. Then he pretended to seriously mull that last idea over. "Is the caveman routine an option?"

"No," Mac shouted out, her tone booked no argument. "You know, I wish you and Veronica would put aside your differences."

"I should just forgive and forget that her habit of acting first, thinking later got you injured?"

"Yes. Dick, please, I know things aren't great between you two and I hate to be in the middle of an argument between two people who mean so much to me. Please try to let your anger with her go. For me," Mac said. She cringed at the beseeching tone in her voice.

Dick didn't say anything in response, but he did nod his agreement.

Mac looked over and gave him a victory smile. She put her hands behind her and leaned back, grimacing slightly when she put too much weight on her sore wrist.

Noticing, Dick frowned and scooted closer, shifting his position so he was sitting behind her, supporting her weight so she couldn't put any more pressure on her broken wrist. She didn't try to break away from the contact, not wanting to pull away from his warmth, his solidness that she'd missed so much, too much.

"Could you hand me my phone?" Mac asked. She turned her head slightly to look at him.

Without jostling her, Dick shifted position slightly so he could reach over to grab the iPhone she had tossed aside while they ate their soup. He placed it in her hand and she softly thanked him. Dick listened as she sorted through the various screens setting it up her way. She tapped her way around the set up menus, an obvious pro.

Finally, at Dick's urging she went to the video menu section. There was one video loaded in the menu. It had already been queued up. As she tapped play Mac's look went from curiosity to annoyance when the familiar sound of her snores filled the beach's ear waves.

"Dick," she screeched. "What's that?"

"Mac," Dick screeched back, "it's a recording I made last weekend of your snoring. Proof positive you snore worse than me."

"This proves nothing," she said haughtily.

"It proves everything," he countered.

"I was in a defenseless state," Mac started saying, but at Dick's laughter bubbling up she couldn't continue, and ended up joining the laughter too. Finally, when they'd calmed down she relented a little bit, admitting "well, maybe you happened to record the one time I ever snored. Don't worry though, you still are the champion, freight trains don't have anything on you."

"I don't think I snore anymore," Dick said. "I may need you to verify that information, however." He followed that statement up with a lascivious grin, just in case Mac didn't fully get his not-so subtle hint.

She smirked. "Don't get too cocky, too soon. Maybe if you're lucky you'll get a kiss tonight. Otherwise, don't push it."

It was his turn to smirk, but then it faded quickly to a more pensive expression. "I came across several videos I'd taken with my phone, a couple of them I'd forgotten all about. There was the one Chip took when I did that 'Ghost riding the whip' stunt and ran over my own toe. There was the one taken after Chip got a pie shoved in his face at a fundraiser a few weeks ago. Finally I had a video of my dad; I took it his last full day of freedom." His voice got soft at the end. Dick turned away, hoping Mac wouldn't see the tears that had collected in his eyes.

"Oh babe," Mac said softly, sadly. It was quite easy to revert back to her old affectionate nickname for him. She was discovering a lot of things that they'd built in their relationship were easy to fall back into., as though in some ways the pause button had never been pushed at all. She scooted over so she was sitting beside him instead of up against him, and put her arm around him, drawing him into her.

Dick drew comfort from her embrace as he remembered the day he'd made the recording. It had been less than a year ago, but it felt a lot longer. He honed in on the feel of the scratchy fiberglass as Mac absently rubbed her casted arm on his bare arm. His dad had been full of memories of Cassidy that visit, many of which Dick had found himself wishing had never been revived. The video however had been taken in a moment of lighthearted teasing. That particular element had been missing in their relationship for several years so Dick had felt the need to capture it forever. Even though seeing it the other day was painful, he was still glad he'd made it.

"I needed a good memory of dad, and that video was evidence we had some good times together the past couple years. It was a good thing," he reassured her.

The sun had finally completed its reign and had surrendered fully to the moon. Mac stared at the light refracting off the night-blackened Pacific Ocean, it sparkled silver. Her wrist was getting sore so she reluctantly removed her arm from around Dick and placed it in her lap. The loss of contact brought Dick out of his reverie and his own pain.

She gave him a reassuring smile at the questioning glance he gifted her with.

Dick looked over at both sides of the beach. They still had it to themselves. It was dark but the moonlight reflecting off the ocean managed to illuminate the setting as well as give it a romantic ambiance. In that moment of time the world had narrowed so it was only the two of them.

Dick looked over and saw Mac part her lips. That was the only invitation necessary, he plunged his tongue inside, tasting wine. Gently he pushed her back so she was lying down on the quilt, then used his arms to brace so he wasn't distributing all his weight on her. He felt Mac's hands running through his hair; a shiver tracking its way down his spine.

She felt the heat building up between them as Dick gently moved one of his arms and brought it up so his hand was gently playing with her right nipple. A soft moan ripped from her throat.

Finally Dick broke away, or maybe it was Mac. Whoever initiated though, they both realized the kiss had to be severed before it led to something more. Dick rolled off of Mac and sat up, then taking her left hand he helped her sit upright too. He had to shift his eyes away from her though when she absently ran one her index finger over her now kiss-swollen lips so he wouldn't ravage her right there on Dog Beach.

"Want to be my plus-one to Keith and Alicia's wedding?" Mac asked breathlessly.

"Logan already asked me. I guess I'll have to let him down gently," Dick teased. "I'd love to. I thought you'd never ask."

It occurred to both of them that they'd at least started the process of knitting their fractured relationship back together.

TBC…

A/N: Anyone catch the Party Down reference? Apparently I'm obsessed with that show, too. I know you got it, cainc3! Anyway, see the box there? I'd love it if you left me a review! Thank you for reading...