Chapter 29 Knowledge is Power

By eight O'clock Monday morning, Section Chief Larson had been at his desk for a little over an hour. He glanced up from the report he was reading only when the door opened. His eyebrows lifted when he saw not his administrative assistant, Cheryl, with a hot cup of coffee and a new pile of reports but Agent Mars.

Her attitude was markedly different than when she'd stormed out of this office three days ago. He noticed that her rigid body language and furious countenance had been replaced by the ease of confidence. She looked as though she knew she held a winning hand. He kept quiet but watched warily as she reached into the large bag slung over her shoulder and pulled out a thick, glossy magazine which she placed on his desk.

It was the marketing catalogue of the upcoming charity auction at the Institute of Art.

"Here are the materials you were looking for, sir." She said. "I'll need to have that back once you've made a copy. If there's anything else I can do to help the investigation, don't hesitate to ask."

Larson was momentarily caught off guard. In the few seconds it had taken her to cross the floor to his desk, he had steeled himself to refuse her weapon and credentials and talk her out of resigning. The unexpected acquirement of the elusive auction catalogue forced him to shift gears quickly. Agent Mars was halfway to the door when he stopped her.

"Mars! Sit." He barked, then picked up the catalogue and flipped through it, assuring himself of its authenticity as she strolled back to his desk and took a seat. He looked at her. No wonder she looked like the cat that ate the canary. "You've just jump started this investigation by weeks!"

"I am an asset to the Bureau, sir." She said, pointedly. "My husband is not."

"So I gathered at our last meeting." Larson said wryly. "Now you bring me this?"

"Mr. Echolls expressed interest in this event independent of any interest the bureau may have. I can get into the auction as his date. He is not a confidential informant. He's not an asset of any kind. His name will appear nowhere in any official reports." She said. "If you still want me to work this case, I'll be submitting a reimbursement claim for three tickets of admission."

"Three?"

"Mr. Echolls doesn't always bring a guest to these events but he never attends without his personal assistant."

"But you just said he was going anyway."

"That's beside the point. Mr. Echolls was planning a fancy night out with his wife. If I get this assignment, I'll be attending the auction as Mr. Echolls' date in name only and I'll be working. He has graciously volunteered to give up the undivided attention of his wife at this black tie affair. He deserves to be compensated for his civic mindedness."

"We'll give him a medal."

"What part of 'low profile' don't you understand?"

"I'm kidding." Larson sighed. "Naturally, we'd cover your ticket, but we're not putting up two grand for a multi millionaire art collector and his 'personal assistant' to get into a fund raiser they had every intention of attending!"

"Whatever." The young agent shrugged, snatched back up the catalogue and stood, shoving it into her messenger bag. "Good luck finding another one of these!"

"Agent Mars!" Section Chief Larson hadn't felt such a loss of control of a situation since he'd ascended to his current rank within the bureau.

"Seriously, sir. What's the price of a couple of tickets when weighed against…how did you put it? 'Jump starting this investigation by weeks'? The bureau has less than a month to prepare for this auction so it's pretty much my terms or wait till next time. For heaven's sake, sir; it's for charity."

"Fine!" he motioned for her to sit back down. "I'll see that your expenses are approved."

"Great. How much will I be getting for wardrobe?"

"For what?"

"I assume there will be a budget for wardrobe?"

"Why do you assume that?" For the third time since Agent Mars had entered his office, Larson had the uncomfortable feeling of his mouth falling open.

"You don't think most Federal agents have closets full of formal wear, do you? You chose me for this assignment because you thought I'd blend in. Do you really think in a crowd of Pohlads, Daytons and Cargills I can show up sporting the latest in evening wear from Target? Do the words 'sore thumb' mean anything to you? No wonder the bureau has such a hard time pulling off this sort of assignment." Agent Mars sighed, exasperated. "You really do need me, don't you?"

Larson sat back in his chair and sighed in resignation. He knew when he was beaten. It wasn't the look of condescending pity on the face of the rookie agent sitting across his desk that bothered him. It was that she looked no older or more formidable than his teenage daughter Stacy that really graveled his ass.

He'd never won an argument with Stacy, either.


Tuski almost wilted in relief when Veronica came through the bullpen doors and sat at her desk shortly after lunch.

"Mars! I was sure they barred you from entering the building this morning! I've been imagining you either on the street outside, pounding on the doors, crying to get in or locked in a cell down in the basement with a one way ticket to gitmo! Where have you been? What's going on?"

"Yeah," Morris turned around from his desk as well. "What is the going rate for telling the boss to eff off?"

"Well, it's not gitmo." Veronica grinned at her coworkers. "I don't think I actually did tell Larson to do anything unnatural to himself after all. I've just spent the morning being briefed by Assistant Director Johnson, to whom I'll be reporting on my new case!" She did a happy dance before dropping into her chair.

"You're guilty of gross insubordination and they give you a case?" Tuski frowned. "What is it; has a Flukeman been sighted in the city sewers?"

"Again; not guilty of insubordination, gross or otherwise." Veronica reiterated. "Turns out, the things you scream in your head can't be held against you."

"Not until they fit our brains with microprocessors and gps chips, anyway." Morris said, sounding a little bit disappointed. "So what the hell did happen?"

"Do you remember what I said about being cute not getting me out of the bullpen?" Veronica asked.

"Yeah and you said being rich might do it. Did you win the lottery over the weekend, or what?" Tuski demanded.

"Pretty much." Veronica laughed. "As for the city sewers, this assignment could hardly take me further away from that scenario!"

She quickly filled the other two rookies in on the agency's suspicions regarding a high end fine art/money laundering operation.

"The auction here in town is at the end of the month so I have the next three weeks to learn all I can about art. The agency is footing the bill for me and Logan to spend an evening hobnobbing with the height of Minnesota society and I get a five hundred dollar wardrobe allowance!" she squeaked in excitement.

"Damn!" Tuski cried. "You didn't meet a guy named Beelzabub at a club Saturday night, did you? Work a deal? 'Cuz I gotta tell you, girl; don't trust that cat."

"Not at all." Veronica explained. "But I was able to come up with the catalogue the agency has been trying to get their hands on, thereby proving that I am the agent for this assignment."

"Well congratulations, Mars." Morris said. "We'll miss you."

"As far as I know, I'm not moving my base of operations from this desk." She said. "I don't get an office or anything. I just don't have to listen to Blythe's braying anymore!"

"So how did you get your hands on one of those catalogues?" Tuski asked. "Did you stake out Bill Pohlad's house and steal his mail?"

"Agent Tuski!" Veronica gasped. "Mail tampering is a federal crime! But I like the way your mind works."

"Oh, you're really going to like the alley it just ran down." Tuski said, her eye catching the figure exiting the elevator.

"Mm, mm." Veronica smiled, watching Shep stroll across the floor.

"Mars!" he grinned. "I just heard; congrats on getting your first field assignment. I think this calls for a celebration. O'Gara's after work?"


Veronica got home a little later than usual; having spent an hour at O'Gara's, allowing her favorite coworkers to toast her field opportunity and try to buy her drinks. After her emotional melt down with Logan and the beers on Friday, she refused any more than one vodka soda, which she nursed the entire hour and adamantly rejected any country music selections on the juke box.

She had a stack of large, beautiful books on modern art to bring home and start studying. Beginning the next morning, she would be meeting with one of the bureau's top art crime experts, learning as much as possible about modern art, art in general and fraud and forgery in particular.

She hadn't been so excited about work since the day she started. Finally; to have a real challenge she could sink her teeth into!


For the next few weeks, her mornings would be spent with Agent LeSuer, listening to lectures and power point presentations on everything from the current market in art to the rules of composition and color theory and dissecting page by page the pieces being offered for sale at the upcoming event. Her afternoons were for her independent research. She took to spending them at home; working online in the library office she shared with Logan.

"I promise not to bother you," she said as she flipped open her laptop across the partners' desk from him.

"I don't mind." He watched her set up her printer, open the catalogue, and begin her investigation file. "Is it okay that you're here, instead of at the office?"

"Yeh, it's fine." She logged in. "Long as I'm working, it doesn't matter where."

"What are you doing?"

"Research."

"Specifically?"

She looked at him over the top of her screen. "You mind? I'm trying to work here."

"You've got the catalogue; you're learning about art crime from your tutor, what more do you need to know?"

"Oh, grasshopper; so much!" she laughed. "I'm starting a file on every artist whose work will be offered at this shindig; by the time we make our appearance at the Institute, I will know the educational and family background and financial status and history of all…fifteen of them."

"And that will help you, how?"

"Knowledge is power. Everything else is transitory."

"You should have that needlepointed on a pillow."

"I should. Now hush; I gotta get to work."

"Are you only investigating the artists themselves?" he asked a moment later.

"Uh…no." she said, opening up a window to take her own notes on the material.

"Who else?"

"What?"

"Who else are you researching?"

"Logan…"

"Since you're going to be looking for evidence of criminal behavior, don't you think it makes sense to look at those who are most likely to engage in it?"

"And who do you suppose that would be?"

"The lawyers. The accountants. The hands-on money people."

"Give the boy a gold star! You have been paying attention all these years."

"Well, you brought me along as back up for enough interrogations; I saw a pattern emerge."

"You've been profiling." She nodded, impressed. "In addition to the artists themselves; their backgrounds, habits, financial situations etc., I will be gathering intel on their agents, managers, accountants and lawyers."

"Why?"

"Well, since I don't know what I'm looking for, I have to be ready to spot anything unsavory coming from any quarter. I need to know what possible entry to this crowd crime may have; I'll be looking for possible motives; see if anyone has money trouble?"

"The feds are suspicious of anyone with money trouble?"

"Ironic, I know. In addition to our old stand bys like booze, horses or women, I'll be looking for shady business holdings, anything that could put a person in a situation ripe for theft, extortion or blackmail."

"Like, maybe a relative whose special needs are more expensive than the subject's salary can cover?"

"Exactly!"

"How do you find all that?"

"The beauty of the badge, my dear. I now have access to federal data systems that will tell me what brand of toothpaste these people use and how often they return to whatever pharmacy they go to buy it."

"Scary."

"It is. The smart criminals shop around and pay cash."

"But you don't even know if anyone on that list you're investigating is a criminal."

"This stuff is all public record."

"Even scarier."

"I guess…" she looked out the window. "Imagine how many people could be Googling you right now."

"Google? Crap, I was only worried about Youtube. I talked to Trina a few weeks ago."

"You did?" Veronica was actually happy that Logan had made contact with his flighty sister. Trina was selfish, self centered and stupid but Veronica knew she had a soft spot for her little brother and hoped they would get over their estrangement. "When?"

"Yeah, I called her after that E! interview. I asked her not to mention me to the press anymore."

"How is she doing? Does she think the show will be a hit?"

"She always thinks everything is going to be a hit. She sounded good. She told me that old Larry King interview I did is still getting hits on Youtube."

"Oh. Yeah." Veronica nodded.

"You knew about that?"

"Um…yes. I did." Veronica had never told him that while he was with Parker, she had watched that interview twice a day, even when she was dating Piz. It had been her own form of self flagellation. She had noticed at the time that the clip was getting thousands of hits. She still had it bookmarked in her computer but since they had gotten back together, she only watched it when she missed him, such as the week she spent in Minneapolis before he moved east.

"Trina says I have a cult following." He shook his head in disgust.

"You mean besides me, Piz and Candy?" Veronica preferred not to think of the thousands of strangers, presumably mostly female who still watched the clip. "I wouldn't worry too much about that. I wasn't planning on using Youtube but depending on who shows up at the auction, I may have to keep it in mind."

"Are you researching the pigeons?" Logan's eyes widened in alarm.

"You mean the suckers, excuse me; Patrons of the Arts? Not yet; that phase of the operation can't happen until I know who they are."

"Even you can't get a list of who'll be attending?"

"Too many variables." Veronica said, shaking her head. "Even if the Institute would give us a list of who they sent announcements and invitations to, which they won't without a warrant, which we can't get without evidence of a crime having been committed…"

"God bless the Constitution."

"…there's no way to track contacts. It's easy for tickets to be purchased through a surrogate, like you did; JoAnne McKnight put you on the list and Sam Horschack made the buy. That's why it's so important to have an agent on the inside; I'll be able to identify buyers, see how they behave and go from there."

"As a fed, How are you approaching this differently than you would if this were a private case?"

"Well, as a PI, I wouldn't have the extensive data bases at my disposal but I'd also have a lot more leeway in how I went about gathering evidence. PI's are not bound by the same civil rights laws or rules of admissibility that we members of the DOJ have to adhere to. On the other hand, I'd have a client; someone with a complaint of a specific crime. As it is, I have no focus yet; just a vague, amorphous suspicion that a situation has developed which is ripe for major league criminal behavior."

"That sounds vaguely fascist."

"But with any luck, attending the auction will change that. Just like in private investigation, we'll go wherever the evidence leads us. In the mean time, I'm going in armed with the knowledge of every detail I can glean on those players in the drama that I'm aware of."

"That's it; I'm a cash only operation from now on."

"Like that would work." She snorted. "Your best bet is to diversify your holdings as much as possible; make the paper trail a mountain too big to tackle without compelling reasons. From what I remember, you're off to a pretty good start. Jeez, you're financial records took up, what? Seven boxes? And that was before you even came into your full inheritance. How in the world do you keep track of it?"

"I put it all in Beanie Babies."

"Beanie Babies? Do some of them say 'I wuv you beary much'?"

"They all say 'I love Big Brother'."

"Oh, guess what? Big Brother is going to reimburse us for all three tickets!"

"You can't buy my silence!"

"Obviously. But if we're going to make this 'one office, shared desk' thing work, you're going to have to shut up and leave me alone."

"You shut up. I've been in here minding my own business for months now before you showed up, looking all cute and official and deadly and stuff."

"Noted, but still…"

"Zip it, woman! Trying to work, here!"


Later on, in the kitchen, JR wasn't happy with the news.

"Mars is remitting reimbursement forms for the auction tickets?" he asked Logan. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"I think not spending two grand is a good idea." Logan said.

"You don't see an inherent conflict of interest in this?"

"It's the federal government and a few thousand bucks. In the time we've spent discussing it, they've pissed away ten times as much!" Logan dismissed his henchman's concerns and picked up the tray of appetizers for the patio.

"This is not a good idea, Moneybags." JR warned.

"Shrimps on treadmills!" Logan said as he went out the back door. "Look it up!"


Out on the patio, Veronica and Logan enjoyed their dinner. The sun was setting a little earlier these days. It no longer stayed light out past nine O'clock and although the days were still warm and sunny, with dusk the nights were becoming chilly. Instead of waiting until after they ate, the pair of them had walked around the lake before dinner. Now they were content to sit in their backyard, and watch the sun set.

"I think it's time for you to meet Tuski and Shep." Veronica said.

"Yeah?" Logan looked worried.

"Yeah. You'd like Morris, too. He's kind of a nerd but you seem to get along well with the type."

"I get along with all types but the nerds and I do have an affinity."

"I haven't met Morris' wife yet and they have a little girl so I don't know how social they are but Tuski's been hinting for a while that she'd like to meet you…"

"Really?" he grimaced.

"She wants to meet my husband. All she knows about you is how crazy I am about you."

"O God, the pressure." He groaned.

"You'll like them. They're both really smart and funny and cool."

"If you say so."

"You used to like going out and meeting new people." She pointed out.

"I used to like taking Ex and hooking up with strange girls." He rebutted. "Or at least I used to do those things…I don't remember liking it much."

"Logan."

"I have to work that day?"

"You can't hide in this house forever."

"Sure I can."

"If I don't let anyone meet you, they're going to either start thinking I made you up or there's something wrong with you. The last thing you want is for a bunch of FBI agents to become curious about my reclusive husband. It's time. It's what normal people would do."

"Explain to me again the importance of being normal."

"Sugarpants, I know the ship sailed on normal years ago but if you want to avoid scrutiny it's imperative that you learn to behave like a normal person. I promised I wouldn't inflict anyone on you that you wouldn't like. Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"No. You are a stellar judge of character." He smiled at his wife. "That doesn't worry me."

"And they'll like you."

"Everybody likes me." He said dryly.

"Don't you want to meet my friends?" she wheedled.

"You're the one who hasn't let me join you for drinks after work." He pointed out.

"Not because I don't want you to meet them. If you worked in downtown St. Paul and didn't have to drive through both cities in rush hour traffic to join me over there, you'd have met them weeks ago."

"That's what you say but all I hear is 'let's have sex'."

"What?"

"All I ever hear is 'let's have sex'." Logan said, sounding puzzled.

"This is exactly why I can't take you anywhere." Veronica giggled.

"Fine, I'll have sex with you. Quit nagging."


Logan awoke to a room filled with moonlight. He was about to get up and pull the sheers closed across the window when he caught sight of his sleeping wife. He lay back on one elbow, staring. In the colorless light of the moon, she looked like she was carved from silver. The stark shadows fell across her form, emphasizing her ethereal beauty. As tiny as a child but with the curves of a woman, she looked like a refugee from the Faeries, come into the world to enchant him and lead him to his death.

As he indulged himself in the rare opportunity to stare at Veronica unhindered, her mouth fell open and she began to softly snore. The tiny smile playing at the edges of his mouth bloomed into a grin.

He would unhesitatingly follow Veronica to his death but not because she was pretty.

She may look as charming and delicate as a pearl and silver sculpture but he knew the truth was closer to an epee, or a pearl handled colt. Beautiful to behold; deadly in practice.

She was the bravest, strongest, most dangerous person he'd ever known but she was also the kindest, quickest and most fun and he worshipped her for it.

He couldn't believe his good luck that of all the people on earth, he was the one she trusted to keep her secrets, have her back and lie beside her while she snored in the moonlight.

Sometimes Veronica's sleep was disturbed. Her nightmares didn't always wake her up but they usually woke Logan, who had discovered years earlier that by wrapping himself around her and simply breathing in her ear, he could bring her back to a restful sleep.

Logan had never thought it strange that Veronica suffered night terrors while he didn't. They had both been through some horrific times but Logan's child hood had been filled with such unending drama that anguish and violence were just the waters he swam in. Veronica had accused him more than once of actively looking for trouble and she was undoubtedly right. Trouble was well within Logan's comfort zone; it was serenity that made him nervous.

Veronica, on the other hand, had grown up thinking that life was all sunshine and daisies until that terrible day when the lights went out. And she had been there. She had looked upon Lilly's body, lying broken and empty on the pool deck. Logan hadn't seen that. He'd caught glimpses of that awful video online but he'd never forced himself to watch it.

Aaron had frightened, threatened and beaten Logan as far back as he could remember but he'd never attempted to kill him. He'd never locked him in a freezer, told him he was about to die and lit it on fire. That memory was Veronica's to carry.

She was the only person on earth who had never held Logan responsible for Aaron's crimes. Never once, in all the years he'd known her, had Veronica looked at him and seen 'Aaron Echolls' son'.

She had always seen Logan as himself, whether he was behaving like a psychotic jackass or acting as her champion and for that, he loved her with all his heart.

He hadn't been blowing smoke that day on the beach when he'd told her he'd always loved her. Before Lilly's death had overwhelmed him with grief, guilt and rage, he'd been a happy enough kid. He'd approached life as an adventure and as anyone who's ever read a book knows; adventures frequently feature run-ins with ogres and villains. The trick was to surround yourself with good guys and Veronica had always been one of the good guys Logan had wanted on his team.

Naturally, he'd fallen in love with Lilly. She was the shiniest, most glamorous thing he'd ever seen and back then, glitter was all he could see. Veronica, back in those days, had been sweet and kind and fun but there was nothing to indicate that she had a core of steel. Logan, at thirteen, had no way of knowing that someday he would value steel more than a big pair of…shoes.

He'd once told Veronica that despite all the pain, he wouldn't change a thing that had happened to them. The fires they had passed through had forged them into the people they were and as far as he was concerned, it had all been more than worth it.

The night he'd first made love to Veronica was the night he'd decided there must be a God, after all.

Flashback

He and Veronica were watching a rerun of Raising Arizona on cable. Classes at Hearst started in just a week and they had worked hard to get Logan enrolled and registered. It had been a hell of a summer. High school graduation had been immediately overshadowed by Beaver and Aaron's suicides that same night at the Neptune Grand. The deaths of Beaver and Woody Goodman meant the full story of Veronica's rape need never come out. The death of Aaron meant Logan was really on his own, once and for all.

With so much cataclysmic change swirling around them, it never once crossed Logan's mind to pressure Veronica to love him the way he loved her. She had jumped into bed with Duncan over the trauma of death. Logan wasn't about to let her make that mistake with him. He was just happy that she didn't hate him anymore.

He had reached out and taken her hand. The next thing he knew, she was kissing him like there was no tomorrow, pulling him down on top of her.

"We know how this movie turns out." She had said with a smile. "Let's do something else."

So they did.

Well, that was new, he'd thought to himself afterward. I think I'm in shock.

He had never kept track of the women and girls he'd been with. In the world he grew up in, A Streetcar Named Desire wasn't just the title of a movie; it was a way of life. He'd been aware of his father's behavior with women long before he understood the mechanics. He'd noticed the way other men flocked around his mother long before he understood why it enraged him. Growing up in Beverly Hills, he'd lost his innocence long before his virginity.

He'd given that to Lilly when he was fourteen. At the time, he had assumed he was her first as well but somewhere along the way, he realized he had stopped believing that long before the whole truth came out.

Is that why I was so in love with her? Because she was the first?

It made sense. A born romantic, he had wanted to believe that what he and Lilly had was special. Even when he'd discovered that she had shared with lots of guys, he'd hung onto the belief that what they had was different; better. More, somehow. He'd stopped feeling bitter about Lilly long ago. He'd loved her for who she was, not for who he'd wanted her to be.

But having loved Lilly was one of the reasons he was so stunned, now.

Lilly had been aggressive, adventurous and sexy as hell. She loved the physical act. She'd do it anywhere; the car, the pool, the hot tub, the beach, the closet during his parent's Christmas party…

He never let himself think of where else or who else she did it with. He'd naively and egotistically thought it was him she couldn't get enough of but now he realized he was just in the right place at the right time.

Until the day he wasn't.

There was very little left of his feelings for Lilly by the time he watched those video tapes but seeing her with Aaron had destroyed any last shred of romantic notions he may have harbored for her. Even as he'd referred to her as 'the love of my life' to the Sheriff, he'd known she was no such thing. Wallowing in self pity just seemed appropriate to the occasion.

Caitlin had been only the most prominent in a long line of girls he'd used in his attempt to get over Lilly. Caitlin hadn't been the dynamo Lilly was; she was very particular as to what she would do and where she would do it. Logan had even suspected that she might be a virgin until the whole Chardo thing happened. You don't spend a night in a hotel with a chick who doesn't put out unless you're an idiot. Of course, seeing as Chardo was an idiot…

Logan hadn't missed Caitlin for a nanosecond once he'd kicked her to the curb. There were too many other girls eager to take her place.

There had never been any danger of Veronica taking her place. Veronica belonged in a place no other girl had ever come near.

He could still recall the panic that had gripped him that day on the phone, telling Veronica to brace herself for Duncan's righteous anger. Listening in, while that weird new kid hijacked her car and abducted her, the fear that flooded his veins was quickly replaced by a powerful need to do for Veronica what he hadn't been able to do for Lilly or his mom; rescue her.

She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't even his friend, anymore. But he'd moved heaven and earth to make sure nothing bad happened to her.

And then she had kissed him.

She rocked his world. Big time.

He would have done things differently if he'd known how it was all going to shake out. But having no idea how to avoid trouble, he blew it. Big time.

And along came Kendall.

Veronica may have been right when she accused him of having a death wish. At the time, death by Kendall sounded like a great idea. That woman was way too young to be Dick and Beaver's step Mom but in the ways of the flesh, she was as old as sin itself.

He'd barely known what had hit him when that woman seduced him.

He didn't know if she'd planned it from the moment she'd opened the front door and told him he could wait by the pool for Dick and Beaver's return or if the idea hadn't occurred until she saw him lying on a lounge. He didn't know and didn't care. She'd strutted out onto the pool deck in her bikini and straddled his lap, making many a school boy fantasy come true.

Kendall was scary.

She was insatiable and fearless. She got off on the danger of doing it in the living room when Big Dick or the boys were expected home at any moment. She encouraged him to do things to her he'd only seen done on dirty little stages in Tijuana. He'd stopped being surprised by her depravity long before she'd run out of new tricks to show him. She'd put him in positions he didn't know humans could use. He and Duncan had had a copy of the Kama Sutra they'd spent more than one night studying but it was Kendall who insisted he put it into practice. She did things that would've grossed out a less erotically open minded man than Logan. She reveled in the fact that he was a minor and therefore what they did was illegal as well as immoral, unethical and probably unhygienic.

For awhile, just the thought of Kendall got him so excited it was painful. Nothing could make him forget Veronica and his broken heart as quickly and thoroughly as impaling Kendall. But somewhere along the line, she became merely a convenient release rather than his sex goddess.

Sometime during that year, he realized she ached for him more than he did for her. She became a booty call. Then she just became a transparent annoyance. But the fact that she always came lead him to believe that he must be doing something right, or at least well.

So yes, he had come to think of himself as experienced and accomplished in bed.

Until that night when Veronica had taken him by the hand and lead him into his own bedroom and he'd had no idea what he was doing.

Usually, when you wait so long for something you want so much, it's impossible for the reality to live up to your expectations.

Veronica made him feel brand new.

He wanted to protect her. His mom had been the only person on earth he'd ever felt remotely protective of and he'd failed her.

Lilly? The idea of trying to protect Lilly was as ludicrous as trying to protect a lion. That's part of why he felt so guilty when she died; it had never occurred to him that Lilly could ever need anyone's protection and so he hadn't been there to offer his when the monster arrived.

The irony of it is that she used to accuse him of jealousy while she was banging at least two other guys. Then, he kissed one girl for one second and she turned into the Wicked Witch of the West Coast and dumped him. He had tried to crawl back to her but it was too late. He was done feeling guilty about Lilly. He just wanted to remember her fondly as the wonderful, sexy, hot tempered girl she'd been. He'd always love Lilly but it was the love of an adolescent who couldn't get over the fact that she let him in her pants.

Caitlin, Kendall and all the nameless, faceless others had just been sex. He'd never pretended he even liked any of them particularly, much less loved them. The sex had been good because it was sex; how could it not be good?

But this…this had raised sex to a whole new level he'd never dreamed existed.

With a supreme effort of will, he lifted one heavy arm off the mattress and stroked Veronica's back. She was warm and soft and he felt the urge to roll over on top of her so that if the ceiling caved in, it would crush him and not her. He smiled. Warm and soft were two things he would not have applied to Veronica a year ago.

She was the last person on earth he would have chosen to be with him at the most devastatingly low moment of his life. Yet, she had been there when the loss of his mom finally hit him and he was pretty sure that her presence was the only thing that had kept him from falling completely apart. Veronica had seen him naked long before she'd ever seen him without his clothes.

After that, he'd shrugged off the face he showed the world and let her see him. He had worked hard for as long as he could remember to live down to his image of pampered privilege. He let no one see the pain he lived with. Veronica had been there when he'd lost the strength to hold up the mask and the fact that she'd seen through it somehow lessened his need for it.

He wanted to protect her because she was the only person who ever made him feel safe.

He would have gone mad during the whole Felix murder investigation if it hadn't been for Veronica. He wasn't sure he hadn't gone mad. She'd broken his heart when she dumped him but the humiliation of being thrown out of the apartment by the Sheriff had felt achingly familiar. He would have done the same thing in Keith's shoes. He was horrified to look back and see himself behaving like his father.

How different everything would've been if he'd had a father like Keith Mars.

So many terrible things had happened. He'd made so many mistakes. And Veronica, who never did anything wrong, seemed to pay for all of them. He swung his other arm up and stroked her hair. He wanted nothing but good things for her, from now on.

That's when it hit him.

Sex with Veronica had been different—exponentially better—because for the first time, he'd approached sex focused on her enjoyment, rather than his own.

He had started slow, using his hands and his mouth to find every erogenous zone on her tiny, perfect, body. Her ears, neck, the palms of her hands, the inside of her elbows and wrists, the hollow of her hips and ankles…he hadn't let her touch him as he lavished attention on her because he didn't want to be distracted from his purpose. He'd gone down on her which was something he'd never really been into before. He'd never seen what was in it for him. Veronica's reaction had been inspiring and he discovered a real talent for it. By the time he penetrated her she was humming like a tuning fork. When he made her come it was so…

It felt like the top of his scalp and the soles of his feet blew clean off.

He'd made love instead of fucking.

The cheesiness of the thought made him groan even as he acknowledged it's truth. Love changes everything.

He tightened his arms around her and Veronica giggled and said "You were right; he was doing it wrong."

"Aw Ronnie," he sighed. "Until tonight, I was doing it wrong."

An unwanted idea popped into his head; had he been subconsciously trying to outperform Duncan? If Duncan were to return to Neptune, would she go back to him?

The thought actually made him go numb. Fear shot through his veins like ice and his arms fell back to the mattress and his breath hitched.

"What?" leave it to Veronica to notice these things. "Logan, what's wrong?"

"Do you still love him?" it never occurred to him not to be honest with her.

"I'll always love him," she answered lightly. "Just like you'll always love Lilly."

"Lilly's not coming back."

"Do you think I'm only here because he's not?" she asked, lifting her head so she could see his face.

"Well…" he stared at the ceiling. "It makes sense. He's better looking than me, he's richer, smarter, better connected to a better class of people, he's the best guy I know…hell, he's actually good enough for you."

"Hey!" something in her tone of voice made him look her in the eye. "He's not the best guy I know. You're better than he is. You're stronger than he is, you're braver and every time I've needed you , you've been there for me. Even when you hated me. Even when everyone else was saying terrible things about me behind my back you always had the decency to only say them to my face."

"I'm sorry."

"You always let me hit back. Duncan didn't. He just…went away." She smiled at him. "Three times now, you've come to my rescue and you want to know something? I was never surprised that it was you."

"I was. I was surprised every time." He wanted to tell her he loved her but she started to laugh and the moment passed.

End Flashback

All those memories rushed through his mind in a second and a half as he watched his wife sleeping in the moonlight. She shivered. He reached out and carefully pulled the blanket over her then let his head fall back on his pillow, still facing her. She rolled toward him, coming to rest against his chest. He slid his arm around her and pulled her close.

"I'm sure I'll like your friends." He whispered into her hair. There was really never any doubt that he would give in to her. He couldn't imagine not giving her anything in the world that she wanted.

To Be Continued...