After a morning class I head back to the apartment for a quick nap.

Checking my apartment mail, I find a bright pink envelope. Surprised, I immediately open it up and carefully read its contents: a stiff white card with spidery black writing.

You're invited!

You, Veronica Mars (plus one), are invited to celebrate the engagement of Casey Gant and Parker Lee on the 22nd of March. Dress casually. Arrive promptly at the Gant Estate at 7:30 PM to fully enjoy the night's festivities! Please RSVP.

What? Parker and Casey engaged?

Needless to say, I'm slightly shocked. There had been no sign the last time I saw Parker: no ring, no indications of impending matrimony. Furthermore, if she had neglected to tell me, why hadn't Mac?

What an anomaly.

I immediately dial up Logan and after a few rings, he lazily answers.

"Have you checked your mail today?"

"Uh, no, I'm barely even awake." He mutters. Barely awake, Logan? It's two in the afternoon.

"Well, okay, spoiler alert. We know an engaged couple now."

"Is it Duncan and Clara?" Logan asks logically. Typically, I'd agree with that assumption. But with my latent knowledge of trouble in that sector of paradise, the choice is less predictable.

"No. Parker and Casey." I insist, almost disbelievingly. After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally say "Are you still with me here?"

"Yeah." Logan echoes.

"Startling, huh?" I ask, again awaiting an answer.

"Nah, not so much."

"What?" I'm caught off guard, to say the least.

"They're head over heels. And, they're them. It was bound to happen sooner or later." He says slowly…and all too logically.

"Oh." I reply succinctly. "So…" I trail off awkwardly.

"Look, marriage isn't for everyone, I know that." He sighs and I tell he's furrowing his brow in deliberation on the other side. "But, it is for some people. Just not us…yet."

"Yeah." I say quietly in agreement.

"So, there's my spiel on romance for today." I can practically see his smirk. "You're coming over later, right?"

"Oh yeah." I reply in a low, sultry voice and I can hear his airy chuckle.

"See you then."

"You bet." I tease back.

"I love you."

"Love you too." I reply sincerely and press end with confidence.

As soon as I enter Mars Investigations later, I see Weevil gesturing to the closed office door quietly.

"What is it?" I whisper, coming up next to him.

"You've got clients."

"No duh!" I say sarcastically and then shake my head. "Who is it?"

"Casey Gant's rents." Weevil says pointedly.

"What?!" I ask, completely blown away.

"Apparently, they need your mad Mars P.I. skills." Weevil shrugs with his trademark confident ease, apparently finding the situation hilarious.

I hit his shoulder in playful defense and then step into the office.

I smoothly go over to my side of the desk as the Gants impatiently sit at the other.

"Can I help you?" I ask cheerily.

"We need to look into our son's fiancé, make sure there's nothing unexpected." Mrs. Gant raises her eyebrows.

"I have to stop you right there…I can't take this case." I reply seriously.

"Why not?" Mr. Gant frowns. "We're more than happy to include a bonus."

"It's not the money…I'm friends with both Casey and Parker. Parker's a good person. And if you can't see that your son's in love with her, you have to be blind. I can refer you to somebody else if you don't believe me." I cross my arms.

"Are you sure? I mean-" Mrs. Gant continues to plead.

"I think we're done here. My assistant can help you find other detectives in the area if you wish." I say simply and flippantly wave them out. Weevil glares back at me as the Gants assail him with questions.

I can't believe the nerve: the Gants actually asking me to check into Parker's possible indiscretions. I could understand it, possibly, before her rape …she seemed a bit over-confident, to say the least. But now, she's changed her ways and she's different. There's nothing about her in anyway amiss.

Not really feeling the obligation of client confidentiality, I dial up Casey and let him know. Obviously unhappy, he at least accepts the notion of his parent's distrust.

And for now, my conscience is clear.

Relaxing from a week that's been far too long, I soak in the tub, bubble bath and all. My mind is running: engagements, moving in with people, everything…It's all so grown up.

Not that I necessarily have a problem with the whole adulthood thing, it's just so finite. Things can only get harder than they already are. I can't wait to get out into the world, make something of myself…but still, a tiny piece of me still wants to go hang out with my dad and be coddled and teased like I'm a little kid. A little bit sensitive for a badass P.I., right? You know, it's been said I'm a marshmallow, a twinkie…

My phones buzzes and I pick it up, every bit feeling like a girl on Sex and the City.

"Hello?" I ask in a low, sultry voice, expecting Logan. Might as well play the part.

"Hey, daughter of mine, what're you doing for dinner tonight?" Dad blares in and I immediately blush.

"Um…having Hamburger Helper. Why are you asking, Daddio?" I make a quick save.

"I just made some Lasagna and the portion size is far too much for me. Want to take some off my plate?" He puns and I roll my eyes. It's such a blatantly transparent ploy to get me to come visit. As if I'm not over there almost every other day anyway.

"You had me at Lasagna." I joke and I can hear his airy chuckle. "Give me fifteen minutes." I say as I get out of the tub.

"Don't forget your elastic pants." He notes simply and hangs up.

I go on over after a while and we're having a gay old time until the phone rings unexpectedly. My dad gives me a rare smirk and picks up the phone, motioning at me that he needs to leave the room and take it privately. I wolf-whistle behind him as the blush creeps up on his cheeks. A lady friend perhaps? Ow Ow.

I continue to eat my lasagna and casually text Logan as I watch the news. The crime rate has reportedly gone down from the momentary spike it had during Vinnie Van Lowe's "reign". I'm relieved…to say the very least.

After oh, twenty minutes or so, my dad returns and puts the phone back in its cradle.

"Who was that?" I ask playfully, getting a forkful of Caesar salad of his plate.

"Eh, no one. Don't worry your pretty little head." He kisses me on the forehead.

Yeah…right. Like I'm not going to investigate! I'm a Mars remember? Just because I don't live here anymore doesn't mean I've lost my instinct and investigative obsession.

As if.

"Excuse me a moment." He says politely and heads for the bathroom, darting me an almost challenging look. Dang. He knows me too well.

I almost immediately pick up the phone and shuffle through the caller I.D.

Alicia Fennell. Oh, Wallace is going to just love this.

I smirk to myself and place the phone back…and just in the nick of time too…just as Dad happens to stride back in and pour himself a Diet Coke.

My own phone rings and I look at the caller I.D. quizzically. The hospital?

"Hello?" I ask curiously.

"Is this Veronica Mars?" The operator asks in a monotone voice.

"Yes? Is there something the matter?"

"Ms. Mars, you're an emergency contact for one Lianne Mars. Can you confirm?"

"Yes…" I trail off almost nervously. My father gives me a strange look and I shake my head, as if to reassure him.

"She's been involved in an accident with a drunk driver."

Oh, the irony.

"No, Lilly! I don't like him!" I insisted.

"What is there not to like, Veronica Mars?"

"He's just…Dick. Ugh." I'd said disgustedly.

"What? As if Donut's ever going to clue in. You need a backup…a boy there for nothing else but his looks and some simple conversation. It should at least help Duncan see what's right in front of him."

"Huh? Lilly, is that what Logan is for you?"

She simply giggled. "No. Logan's also there for his superior make out skills…but now's not the time for me to dish on those." I swear I could almost have heard her blush.

"My final answer is no. Dick is just…no." I finally sighed and heard some rustling and doors slamming. "I've uh, got to go, Lil. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, babe. Nite!" She hung up and I hurriedly got my shoes on.

I scrambled outside just in time to find my mom fumbling for her keys and reeking of alcohol. Where was my dad? On patrol or something?

"Mom, no." I tried to take the keys and she snatched them back, holding them at arm's length way above her head, way out of my reach. "Mom, don't do this." I nearly pleaded.

"I need to go to the store-"

"Not now. No. Let me drive." I sighed…I barely had my permit.

"You'd get caught, Veronica-…you're not legal." She hiccupped.

"And neither are you right now…just give me the keys." I begged. However, lucky for me, as she tried to put the keys in the lock of the car, they clattered to the ground. I managed to pick them up and led her inside.

I'm sitting at her bedside as she sleeps in the hospital. She got of pretty easy… sort of. She's currently unconscious, but expected to get better within the day. She's only has some minor whiplash and a broken sternum. She could've gotten off much worse…and thankfully she didn't.

"We've got more flowers for Mrs. Mars." The nurse brings them in and puts them on the table.

"Thank you." I reply politely and help her arrange them. Once she leaves, I scan all the condolence cards: one from her boss, one from me, one from, surprisingly, my dad, one from her hair lady, and one a little less surprising.

Lianne,

Get well. Here's hoping for a full recovery.

Always,

Jake.

Sure, it's not exactly an admission of his undying love…but it certainly doesn't need to be here when she wakes up. I rip up the card into miniscule shreds and place it in the wastebasket.

My phone rings out and I quickly silence it.

You doing okay?

A text from Logan. He's notified all of my teachers of the situation and gotten me takeout. Now, if that's not love…then I don't know what is.

Fine. No worries. I reply.

I finally give bedside watch a rest and Logan and I attend Parker and Casey's engagement party.

I squeeze his hand and smile up at him as we walk up the drive. Once we enter the Gant manse, I immediately get disapproving looks from of the Gant parents. I flash them my invitation and suddenly it's all smiles (fake ones of course, but smiles nonetheless).

Once we enter the party itself…it feels like I'm back in high school. Since Parker's from Denver…obviously almost none of her hometown friends are here. It's mostly Neptune HS alumni and maybe a few fellow Hearst students. Mostly 09ers. Of course.

I feel like I'm in a game of I Spy with myself. Look! There's Carrie Bishop hanging off John Enbom! Look! Madison's drooling over some ridiculously rich bachelor!

It's exactly like high school. Except this time, instead of blatant disgusted stares at Logan's and my intertwined fingers, it's just a flicker of recognition and almost immediate ignorance. And honestly…I really don't mind that much.

Duncan (sans Clara?) is in the corner being chatted up by the single and desperate faction of former 09er girls, which unsurprisingly includes Shelley Pomeroy.

After about twenty of minutes of pure merriment…Logan's phone rings and he curiously leaves the room with a simple "I need to take this" excuse. From his expression, though, I know it's serious.

I begin a conversation with Wallace…first about the weather and then, with a not very smooth segue, about our parent's apparently newly rekindled relationship.

"And…damn, here I was thinking she was still dating that guy, Steve, from program development at Kane Software." Wallace jokingly chuckles "Shucks…I thought he might score me some new stuff for my computer…" He gives a playful snap, a maraschino cherry to top his sarcasm sundae.

"Oh Wallace, our bunk beds are sooner to come in our future than previously imagined. What do you say, Little Bro?" I joke and give him a heartfelt noogie as Mac comes up, obviously displeased.

"Not cool, Superfly. Not cool. Never mess with the 'fro!" Wallace smoothes his all-important hair out and smiles back at me.

"What's up, Mac Attack?" I ask, hoping to bring a smile to her now morose face.

"Dick and I are 'on a break'," She quotes furiously and then continues ", and the first sight I see when I show up tonight is him all over some trashy blonde." She grumbles and I pat her back, giving my condolences.

"He's obviously trying to make you jealous. You have to remember something, Mac. Trashy blondes are all Dick knows. They were his bread and butter for like 5 years. I mean, look at Madison. Prime example." I cringe.

"Are you sure?" She asks self-consciously.

"Just don't let it get to you. Be a ray of frak-ing sunshine and make it astronomically clear that he's not getting to you…just don't get all down and dirty in the process." I caution her. "I don't like my Mac all self-important and trashy."

"Gotcha, chief." She nods with a small smile and shuffles off.

After awhile, as most of the guests vacate and time marches on and on…I still can't find Logan. That slightly bothers me. Just a teensy bit.

I ask around, and after a few very (I'm sure intentional) unsuccessful leads, I finally find him on the Gants back porch, sitting alone.

He looks disbelieving. I can tell immediately that something's wrong.

"What is it, Logan?" I ask softly, trying to not agitate him any more than needed.

"It's, it's…Gena. She's dead, Veronica." He drops his phone and it hollowly falls onto the concrete steps.

"Oh, Logan."

Who's Gena, you ask? Gena Rauccio was Logan's first cousin on his mother's side. She was also a model for Vogue and miscellaneous other magazines.

She looked like Lynn did prior to the facelift and lip plump surgeries. While Trina was off shooting Nicole Richie with a BB gun and practicing her mediocre acting skills, Gena stepped in as Logan's older sister. She was the one who watched him as his parents gallivanted about and she was the one who made sure he didn't kill himself the first time he got wasted. She was just so cool, and not because she drank or did drugs (because she didn't), but because she was interesting. She was Lilly's idol, and nearly mine, being the little tweeners we were. But when Logan was fourteen, some obscure family feud occurred and Gena never came over anymore.

Logan certainly loved her and even if they've lost track of each other, this blow is hitting him as bad as it would have when we were younger.

It's not like he's been crying uncontrollably or anything…it's worse than that, he's quiet and bitter and it's almost unbearable to see him this way.

For once, I'm the one taking care of him. Making his dinner, making the calls to his teachers, picking up makeup work, making sure he doesn't drink his weight in alcohol…

I can't let it be the way it was after Lilly. I can't let him lock himself up in his room and stay in there for days, drinking until he passes out. I can't let him beat himself up over what it is he thinks he might've done to cause it.

And I can't help but see the doubt in his eyes. Gena supposedly dove off her balcony in a suicide attempt. From the 5th story of her fancy schmancy apartment building, no less.

When Logan does speak, he's protesting the ludicrous idea that Gena would ever resort to suicide. I too, have to admit, that Gena had a lot to live for. From what I'd heard, she had a very loving immediate family. She was successful and beautiful and smart, not to mention continually optimistic. Yeah, it doesn't make sense that she'd kill herself…but can I indulge Logan's idea that she didn't actually kill herself but was murdered instead? Can I, yet again, let him hold out hope only to have it dashed to the ground?

He hasn't really even brought up that kind of notion to me, but I can tell it's there, bouncing around in his head… He's a vengeful kind of guy. He doesn't really fully let things go. If it actually had been found out that Gena was murdered, he would probably do anything to find the perpetrator. Find and probably at least cripple the perpetrator.

I can't let that happen. I can't let him lose himself. I can't let myself lose him.

I just can't.

after a long hiatus, I'm back. Reviews? Por favor :-)