DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Chapters 16 through 20 (plus Chapter 1 of Part 4 in this series) were all posted the SAME DAY.

Chapter 15 was posted a week earlier.

Click back if you need to.

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Chapter 19 is a modified version of #3.17 "Debasement Tapes," #3.18 "I Know What You'll Do Next Summer," and #3.19 "Weevils Wobble But They Don't Go Down."

Occurs between late March and late April 2007.

Chapter 19

I'd been having headaches more frequently, and my symptoms matched the list you see associated with migraine. I had also realized that my cycle had been irregular since last fall and my cramps were getting more and more painful. Like all my other assorted health issues, it had started after the bus crash. My family doctor wasn't sure that it had anything to do with the accident, but he was concerned that it had been going on so long and was not resolving. Last week, he referred me to an OB-GYN. Amazingly, they had an opening this week. Yay! More doctor appointments. Just what I always wanted.

The short version: The gynecologist decided to put me on the pill to try to regulate my cycle. He explained that many women report a decrease in painful cramps and migraines. My response was, "Sounds promising! Sign me up."

Even if the headaches were not related to my injuries from the bus crash, having any additional pain on top of lingering TBI symptoms was not what I would consider – oh, what's the word? – fun.

On the drive home from the doctor's office, I stopped at the pharmacy to fill the prescription. After much internal debate, I decided that, at least for now, there was no reason to bring this up with Dad. He would need to be told – before he accidentally found the pills. Because then I'd be dealing with angry Dad rather than concerned Dad.

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A few days later, I arrived home to find Dad at the counter, making sundaes for dinner.

He had gotten my favorite flavors of ice cream and my favorite toppings. Something was definitely up.

While we were eating, Dad asked me multiple questions about my day, school, work … finally leading up to this: "Is anything wrong? Anything you want to tell me?"

Then, he told me why he was playing twenty questions. When he got home, there was a message on the machine from a doctor's office about test results.

"They seemed to indicate that everything is fine. But that still makes me wonder why they felt it necessary to test for anything. Also, I didn't recognize the doctors name. Did the family practice take on a new associate?"

When I told him that our family doctor had referred me to a gynecologist who put me on the pill, he freaked out a bit. After I told him about the symptoms I'd been having and showed him the literature the doctor had given to me, he calmed down. But he still wanted to know what the tests were for.

"First appointment. Guess they wanted to cover all the bases, get a baseline on everything … for future reference or whatever."

"But everything is fine?"

"Hopefully, it will be now."

After one of the more uncomfortable conversations I've had with my father, I took my bowl over to the sink and then headed to bed.

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When Wallace had to watch a movie for his film studies course, he asked if he could come over to the apartment. So, we spent a few hours together, chatting while he took notes.

Mostly, he told me that Dr. Winkler, the engineering prof who had given him a zero on an exam and suggested he drop his class, had asked him to come in for a meeting recently. After acknowledging how much improvement he saw in Wallace's work, he asked if Wallace was taking advantage of the tutors the school provided for athletes. He hadn't been, but he was now. Winkler also offered to mentor him and talked to him about some summer internship opportunities.

Just as Wallace was packing up his things to leave, I asked him about Piz's mood since finding out the Eli broke up with me. I told him that Piz had asked whether he should go talk to Eli.

"If he mentions that to you, please explain to him—"

"That it's a really bad idea? Oh, I will."

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Events the night of Parker's party had been – in a word – complicated. Piz had kissed me and then Eli broke up with me. However, just because one thing follows the other does not mean that it was caused by the other. The first event may have been a catalyst for the conversation that resulted in the second event. But I did not consider the kiss to be the reason for the breakup.

If Piz hadn't kissed me, Eli and I would have had the opportunity to have a reasonable conversation. I had been prepared to tell him what I had been thinking and feeling – some of which I had only admitted to myself the night before that, while writing in my journal. But the thing is … even if we had talked, even if I had been able to explain myself and he had understood, that would not necessarily have guaranteed a happy outcome. We might still have broken up.

In the past few weeks, I hadn't seen Piz much at all. So I was surprised when he came bounding up to me to tell me his news. Desmond Fellows – the surviving member of the musical duo My Pretty Pony – was coming to campus, and Piz had "won" the opportunity to be his guide.

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Not long after Piz delivered him to his room at the Neptune Grand, Desmond discovered that the backing tracks – which he needed for the scheduled performance – were missing from the backpack he brought with him.

To make a long story short, the tapes had not been stolen, as all of us had originally thought. Desmond had accidentally picked up someone else's backpack.

During the drive to L.A. to swap backpacks, I had the opportunity to spend four hours with Piz. We talked about the awkwardness – and the fact that he thought it would be worse. And although I had told him that I thought we should file away what happened at Parker's party, toward the end of the night I began to question whether that's what I really wanted.

I'm not sure what prompted me to do it, but while we stood listening to Desmond Fellows perform his new material – rather than "the old hit" with the backing tracks – I reached over to take Piz's hand.

It felt like something I would have done at a middle school dance. But that small gesture changed something. It changed the atmosphere between us.

I didn't know what that meant. Or where it might lead. But it felt nice … and uncomplicated. And that sounded good to me right now.

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That next week, we agreed to go out, but Piz suggested that we go out for lunch and a movie – keep it low key, so he didn't feel the pressure of a "first date."

It went really well. Much better than I expected.

The week after that, we spent time together almost every day – lunch on campus, hanging out in his room, or studying at my apartment.

Then, we finally went out on an official date. I got dressed up. He picked me up. Dad interrogated him. That was followed by dinner at a nice restaurant and a goodnight kiss at the door.

I didn't want to get bogged down in comparisons, but it felt similar to my dates with Duncan. Not necessarily a bad thing. Just different than dating Eli.

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The following week, Piz was busier than usual. He was scheduled to interview Apollo Bukenya, and he spent several hours doing prep work for that show.

Coincidentally, I was hired by Kizza Oneko, a man who thought he might be Apollo's father. He wanted me to find evidence one way or the other, but without telling Apollo until I was sure. After some twists and turns – and a bit of disinformation – the case resolved with the two men meeting in a room at the Sheriff's Department.

I'm not usually that sappy, but I had tears in my eyes as I listened to Kizza tell Apollo about his mother as the young girl he had fallen in love with.

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Dad had thought that he would be running unopposed in the race for Sheriff of Balboa County, but after Vinnie Van Lowe helped catch a thief, he was encouraged by some of the citizens of Neptune to run. Unfortunately, when Dad was interviewed by the newspaper about the aforementioned case, he had remarked that Vinnie was "an asset to this community." Now, Vinnie was planning to use that quote as an endorsement from the current acting Sheriff.

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In other news that week, I was officially offered the FBI internship. Right after I got the phone call, Dad and I did a little celebratory dance in the living room, followed by ice cream sundaes.

One day at lunch, all of us – Piz, Wallace, Mac, and I – were discussing our summer internships. While I would be on my way to Virginia, Piz would be heading to NYC to work for Pitchfork Media. Wallace and Mac were both going to be in Seattle – Wallace at Boeing; Mac at a company that designed some new software intended to help families stay organized. She had been offered a paid internship at Kane Software, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to look at herself in the mirror if she worked there.

After everyone else left, it was just Mac and I at the table. The primary topic was the fact that she had been seeing Max since her breakup with Casey. She was so far gone, drowning in the heady days of new love. At least, she had finally ventured out of their "blissful love shack," as she had called it. I, for one, was glad she had returned to our lunchtime gatherings.

Our conversation meandered through several other topics, but eventually landed on Eli.

Mac said casually, "The past six months have been really stressful for him, but I don't have to tell you that."

"Past six months?" It had been more than a month since the breakup, but whatever she was referring to would have been going on while we were still together.

"You know … all the family stuff … and the employee ..."

"Still not following."

Mac studied my face and then said, cautiously, "You still haven't talked to him? He hasn't told you?"

"Apparently not. So why don't you."

"Nope. Not getting in the middle of this. You should really hear it from him." She paused and then added, "When you talk to him … just keep in mind that people do strange things when they're under stress."

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Early the next week, I saw that I had missed a call from Eli while I was in class. He didn't leave a voicemail, but he had sent a text that said: please call asap. need to hire you.

Once I was in my car, I called his cellphone. After two rings, I figured I would get his voicemail, but just as it finished ringing for the third time, he answered.

"V, hang on a minute. Let me get in my office."

I heard noise in the background and then finally heard a door shut.

"Thanks for calling me back."

"What's up?"

"Do you have time to stop by the shop?"

"Why?"

"Carlos got fired. He was accused of … something he couldn't possibly have done. I need you to look into it. I just bailed him out."

"On my way."

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I took notes as Carlos told me that he was accused of making fake student IDs. He gave me enough info that I knew where I needed to start. I would be heading back to campus to question a few people – starting with the Bursar's office to find out how the reloadable cards are made.

"Carlos, call me if you think of anything else. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you, Veronica." Carlos shook my hand, gave a chin lift in Eli's direction, and then he left.

After we were alone, Eli said, "I'll pay your normal fee. Hell, I'll even pay double. He needs this fixed yesterday."

"I don't want your money," I said as I put my bag on my shoulder. "Consider it a favor. Besides, I said that I owed you. Remember?"

I thought we were done, but apparently, I was wrong. Because as I turned toward the door of his office, he said, "Mac tells me you're dating Piz."

Looking down at my hands, I played with my keys. "We've gone out, spent time together. But … I mean, I wouldn't say that we're … a couple."

He stepped toward me. His voice soft as he asked, "And when you were staying in their room … back in November … did anything happen then?"

Turning to face him, I said, "You really need me to say it? No. Nothing happened in the fall."

"So at Parker's party …?"

"That was the first time he kissed me. I mean, I knew he liked me … he had told me. But he hadn't …"

He gave me a chin lift and dropped the subject.

Since he had asked me about Piz, I decided to mention what Mac had said about him having a lot going on the past six months.

By his expression, I had caught him off-guard.

His response was simply: "Long story. Don't really have time to get into that right now."

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After I solved the case, I got a phone call from Eli thanking me for taking care of it so quickly. It had been incredibly satisfying to prove the guilt of the affluent assholes who had not only done the crime but had also tried to pin it on Carlos.

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The following week, Piz and I were studying in his dorm room. It began innocently enough, but a PG-rated make-out session quickly became heated.

After having a prolonged internal argument with myself, I pulled away from him and scrambled off the bed. I stood a few feet away from him, unsure what to say or do next.

He watched me carefully as he asked, "What's wrong, Veronica?"

"We … we need … to stop."

"Yeah, I got that much."

A/N:

Ready for the conclusion of Part 3?

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~Jen

28 June 2020