A/N: Ah. so thank you all for your reviews/follows/favorites. This chapter is all Dick's POV. It really is like a dive into his head, things coming at us from all directions. I hope you can follow along with his thinking. I pretty much stuck to his brief thoughts on the past 5 days,in order, in how it's happened in my storyline, mixed in with other things (like sandwiches-shout out, BeWitchingRedhead36-enjoy the few times he thinks about making one;D). I figure it may be a lot broody, but I write more broody than snarky, so add your own snark to his thoughts where you can. I think this chapter kind of turned into verbal diarrhea, it goes everywhere all at once, haha. So take that with a grain of salt. I wanted to get as much in this as possible and then start back into the mysteries in the next chapter. Rated T+ for an F bomb

Chapter 15 Recap

They both lay there, spent, breathing hard. Dick couldn't believe that he was finally here, with Mac, having just done what they did, her tight little body beneath him. Not wanting to break the moment, he kept his head buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her apple-berry shampoo. She wrapped her arms around his back and kissed his neck lightly, laughing, lightening the moment. "Thank you for that," she told him, into his neck, "Seriously, you have no idea how badly I needed that."

"You have no idea how badly I needed that," he repeated in kind, voice muffled by her hair. He was careful to not squash her, aware that he was indeed becoming more relaxed by the moment and starting to rest on her body. He rolled off of her, carefully taking the condom off and dropping it to the floor, on top of his discarded briefs, reluctant to leave her to dispose of it. "Later," he told her pointedly, wrapping his arms around her, tucking her head beneath his armpit, squeezing her into him tightly. "Do you want to sleep for a bit? It's early yet." In answer, Mac buried her head closer into his chest. Wrapping an arm over him, she sighed heavily and Dick could feel her body relax.

He still wasn't completely sure if he were dreaming. When he had left Mac standing in the living room the night before, he had been positive there would be no way she would come to him after the debacle with Veronica. All the old dirty laundry dragged up by damn Nancy Drew and Dick with no defense. He had spent years reasoning within himself as to why he had done what he done that night at Shelley's so many years ago; and though he tried to rationalize it to himself, he knew there was no justification for his actions. Nevertheless, it had happened, so he had learned to live with it. Veronica's refusal to let it go didn't surprise him even though he wished she would. It would make his life easier.

The past few days had been a complete unexpected turn of events. Waking up in that hospital room had scared the shit out of him, like he had said, and then Mac had walked in, calling out his name, looking at him like he was going insane. And suddenly he felt crazy, because what the hell was Cindy 'Mac' Mackenzie doing there, calming him down? The only time she ever did that was in his mind, talking him down off the edge of a nightmare. She had looked so good, standing there, in her little business suit, and there he was in an ass-less hospital-issued gown, a freaking mess compared to her put-together adult self. Immediately, he could see it in her eyes: a look of utter disappointment and, hell, he didn't know, it almost was as if she wasn't surprised to finally have found him that way.

It shamed him. Because he knew that look was warranted. What had he ever done to prove himself otherwise to her? As if he had ever attempted. He had always been too afraid to try with her. Mac was someone that he could have let in, someone that understood so much of him, but it was fear that kept him from her. She had always been so untouchable. One look between them carried more weight than any other look that he had shared with any other woman, even back in college. Instead of acting on it back then, he had gone on with his business and done his own thing, only thinking consciously of Mac when he was alone in the dark, recalling all the times in their past; wondering what he could have done differently to get to know her at all. As much as he denied that spark, there was a spark there, between them. Something he couldn't define.

But then the hospital had happened. And Dr. Morris told him to stay with someone, and God, was he really that much of a fuckup that he couldn't be left alone for more than five minutes? How the hell had he let it get this bad that he had to have supervision? He never thought he was that bad, but his condition stated otherwise. As a result of feeling like an utter failure, he had gone along with the plan. He went home with Mac, playing ever the jack-ass she expected, attempting for some semblance of normalcy, trying to keep himself from bolting. Besides, he had always had a keen sense of snarky wordage when he was under pressure or nervous. It would have come as a shock to all involved if he would have been humble and complacent. His carefree attitude had always seemed normal to everyone, but for Dick it was just a piece of the armor he wore, letting everyone think that was his way. The only one who even knew or cared enough to know the truth was Logan, and even then, Dick only let certain amounts of himself out at a time around his best friend. Everyone either loved or hated fun-lovin' Dick because that was the persona he allowed to show. He was sure a lot of people just figured he had ADD or something similar.

The truth was that Dick was a bit of a worrier. He worried about Logan; about whether his friend would be called to battle and whether he would return home in alive or in a pine box. He worried about his employees. He worried about whether he could keep the Water Dog afloat; because regardless of what he had told Veronica, there had been a few snares along the way that he was coming to suspect was probably because of the Castle. He worried about the foundation and about the kids that needed help now, not later, after the facility was running. He worried about becoming like Cassidy, on rare occasions. He worried about most things.

Consequently, the first night here lying in Mac's bed, worrying about why he had gotten there, he became determined. Dick wanted to prove to Mac and possibly to himself… that what had happened to him was a one-time deal, and that he had become a fully-functioning adult. He wasn't even sure why he was trying to prove it, but he kept at it. Their first talk about Cassidy…had almost done him in, seeing that crushed look in her eyes, talking about what Cassidy was and how he had two personalities.

Mac didn't even know the half of it. Maybe someday he would be able to stomach telling her about the neighbor's dead cats and their mouse traps; Cassidy's affinity to dead things and dissection. About what Beav had done to Dick's dog, the little yapping thing their mother had given as consolation for leaving every summer, the year Dick entered high school and Cassidy was still in junior high. He still had nightmares from the morning he had found that dog, swinging from her tether, pushed off the edge of the deck, strangled to death, eyes bulging from their sockets. Dick knew immediately how it had happened; they never kept Sally strung up on top of their deck. The week before that had occurred; Dick had naively played what he thought to be a harmless prank on Cassidy: putting pepper spray on the door handle to the bathroom. It had been mean but they were always back and forth with their jokes, always kicking it up a notch with each new trick. He had thought Beav would just wash the stuff right off his hands, but instead, he had rubbed it into his eyes, causing some serious pain, but thank goodness no real harm. Dick had apologized up and down, regretting it instantly, but Cassidy had not taken his apology kindly and vowed revenge. Subsequently, the utter look of glee in Beav's eye as Dick had run past him to puke in the toilet after he discovered Sally had been proof enough that he was responsible, but Dick had never had the guts to tell his dad the truth. The freaky gleam in Beav's eye warned him not to ever dare. Instead, he had bourn the lecture from Dick Sr. about the need to become responsible and use his head when caring for their pets, and because Dick was too careless, they would not be getting another pet.

But that was neither here nor there. Dick and Mac had come home from her office on Saturday together and he had started to wonder slightly why he wasn't sicker. He began to internally question and worry, of course, whether the doctor had known what he was talking about when he had said that Dick needed supervision. Instead of voicing his worry, however, he had sat watching a movie, snuggled into Mac on the couch, enjoying the way she kept squirming away from him, as if he were toxic or something. He had tried to calm her, tried to make her understand that he could be trusted, so he had taken a hold of her hand, stunned when an electric shock bolted through him. All he could do was hold on for dear life.

She had felt better than he possibly could have imagined. Dick had carried Mac to her bed, laid her down, and everything within him wanted to lay down next to her, to press himself into her…instead he had gone into the kitchen, made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (no lunchmeat to be found in that damn fridge), and then grumpily arranged a makeshift bed on the damn rickety couch.

Sunday had come and with it all his actual responsibilities; he knew he had to get to his office. Taking Mac with him, he had not missed the impressed look on her face as they wended their way through the Water Dog, her eyes taking in all that he had done to the place. He remembered once, when he had first opened the shop, Mac had come in. There was no way to miss her: a short brunette with orange streaks in her hair slipping through the door. He had been busy with a customer and by the time he had excused himself, she was gone. He had even stepped out onto the sidewalk to see if she was there, but she had disappeared into the crowd. Dick seemed to recall many times in the past nine years where similar things would happen, he'd see her, decide to approach and she'd evaporate into thin air. Most of the time, he assumed it was his mind playing tricks on him, seeing her at random times. But he knew he had seen her there that day.

Work had consumed him Sunday morning, and he had kind of forgotten Mac was even there. Dick had timesheets and payroll to deal with, expense reports and orders that needed recorded. He had finally read Logan's email, sent the Wednesday before, but because of all his preoccupation with the panel he hadn't even opened it until then. Logan had made a special request that only Dick could take care of, which, damn; he needed to get on that soon. Logan would never forgive him if he didn't get those tickets purchased. He had started to work on it until Veronica came in with lunch and the college kid, setting the project aside while they interviewed the guy. He hadn't thought about it since. He made a mental note to do some research on it first thing in the morning.

As Todd, the college kid, went on and on about how Dick had been behaving at the beach, it had been shocking when Mac had stood up and left in anger. But it had given Dick a little fuel for his own anger and frustration. Here he was, stuck with these two women who always assumed the worst in him, and here it was: proof that he really was just an irresponsible moron. The way that kid had talked about how careless Dick had been—it freaked him out. At some point in the past nine years, Dick had successfully stopped being quite so irresponsible. He had a career and people that counted on him. He had the foundation, which was the most important thing that he had ever been a part of, and he couldn't screw it up. It was so close to being screwed up without any negative influence on his part.

And Veronica, she had this way of looking at him like he was pond scum. Well, in a way, he knew that he was pond scum, or at least, he had been at one time. Mac had stormed out and Veronica had given him that look, carrying on as if her friend hadn't even left or as if it didn't matter at all. As if when Mac had left the room, she hadn't taken his heart and smashed it to the ground; the way she implied that he was a fool and old enough to know better. Everything she said was true, it was nothing he hadn't thought to himself –but to hear her say it stung.

Waiting for her to come home that night, Dick had just gotten angrier and angrier at the injustice of it all. Why, after all these years, was he suddenly thrown into Mac's pathway, only for her to step and stomp all over him, thinking the worst of him? He was mad as hell, and she, as usual, was assuming the worst about him. He couldn't risk it anymore. He was not surprised to realize that he had always wanted her, wanted her in an unattainable way, but now, now was his chance to get what he wanted. Dick was done lying to himself about it. For so long, he had led himself to believe that there was no way that he would ever get even a moment in time with her again, seemed too much to ever believe he could have a chance to be a real part of her life. So he told her, in the best way he knew how, that he knew her and understood her, and she blew up at him, screaming about how he was a player and there was no way she would fall for his ploys.

He didn't know what he had expected. The argument that resulted wasn't necessarily unforeseen, not really. He had been angry and she was upset, but the ferocious way she had fought him had actually made him realize that he might have a chance with her. In the heat of the moment, he had kissed her and in that instant—her reaction had been so intense, he knew, knew she felt it. There was no way she didn't. So instead of pushing, Dick started pulling back. He didn't argue when Wallace came to babysit him, instead washing chalkboards and goofing off all day at Neptune High. And when he saw her again at MI, their eyes connected, his voice caught…and he knew he was a goner. Gone, baby, gone.

And, oh. My. God. That class. That pole. Those moves. The look in her eye when she saw him watching her. Mac had no idea that he knew, that he knew she saw him. That he saw the immediate change in her movement when she realized he was there. He could see the rev in her thrusting and the extra pump of her head that she gave as she rose back up. She had no idea that he was forced to go take a cold shower to…to take care of himself.

Instead of teasing her mercilessly, he had only subtly commented once about it and let it go, choosing instead the path of maturity, and actually, choosing that little show to keep him company the next two nights. It was either that or eat more PBJs, and honestly, he never liked frou-frou bread with seeds and all that shit on it anyways, so a little strip-tease never hurt anything and it kept him company anyhow.

The revelation that Mac had been at the Grand and had a run-in with Mr. Aidan Muldoon boiled his blood. It worried and sickened him at the same time, thinking of what could have happened to her. As much as all this was screwing up his own life, he recognized that she could have easily been hit with something similar or worse. Much worse. It was for damn sure a good thing that Mr. Muldoon had an agenda that night, because the look and movements on that footage was enough for Dick to know a predator when he saw one. He had just missed the look in the dude's eye because Dick had been too preoccupied. It made him want to kill the bastard, just the way he had looked at Mac, like she was meat for the taking. Not available, man. Hands off, ass-hole.

Having to explain about the foundation had been awkward but necessary. Listening to her explain about Thursday had been awkward but necessary, and hurtful, the way she had closed into herself, remembering. The look she had given him was filled with warning to stay away, and of course, she had successfully turned the conversation back on him, asking about the alcohol.

He was so glad that he wasn't an alcoholic. He was grateful the doctor had confirmed what he already firmly knew, deep down. It wasn't the best news, realizing that the Castle was involved, but he could beat that better than another demon inside himself. One more could just put him over the brink.

At the Grand, he had lost a little control. She had pretty much jumped on him, and if he wouldn't have just seen Aidan Muldoon across the way, Dick would have gone straight to the check-in counter and paid for the most expensive room in the place for ten minutes alone with Mac. Instead, he had reluctantly set her back to the ground, heading out to the Valet, thinking boring thoughts like how many planes were on the Air Craft Carrier that Logan was on and how many gallons of fuel each one must hold. Totally mundane and off the subject from silky skin and smooth lips, her breasts pushing up against his chest, and a short skirt slightly riding up Mac's thighs.

Discovering what they had about the Castle had put all thoughts of soft skin aside temporarily. Going over why he had been involved with the Castle made the evening turn too serious and therefore, he had been able to keep his mind off of chance meetings in the dark. He had assumed all of the information that they had gleaned at the office had ruined that hot moment back at the Grand and he resigned himself to another cold night alone on the rickety couch.

Her interesting topic on the way home had been unexpected; he wasn't really sure what had brought on that line of questioning. He hadn't been sure if she was ready for complete honesty there; about why he had given Cassidy and her such a hard time back then. Dick wasn't sure he was ready for complete honesty himself. He liked to keep from obsessing too much about that time, but really, there were many reasons why he had been so difficult when Mac dated Cassidy. For one, Dick worried about what Cassidy was capable of. His brother was terrible to the people he 'loved,' and Dick obsessed a little bit about what Beav might do to Mac if she hurt him. For another, Dick really had been jealous of his brother. He hadn't been lying when he had said that. He just hadn't explained the full extent of it.

Bringing up high school and even Madison made him a little uncomfortable. Those were the days before he had much of a back bone, having found it easier to just go with the flow of the ideas and prodding from his father. Madison Sinclair had been pushed on him. Honestly, he had enjoyed spending time with Madison's family more than he had liked spending time alone with her. He liked playing catch with her little sister, Lauren, and even playing pool with her dad. Her mother had a sparkle in her eye that had been familiar somehow; he didn't know, but somehow it was nice, like she understood him a little. But Madison, she was another story. She was demanding and over-the-top most of the time. She treated Dick like an empty-headed piece of eye-candy, which ironically, was how he treated her, so it was even kill, he supposed. And it was true that Dick Sr. had pushed his relationship with Madison. Dick's dad had really thought that Madison could be swayed at an early age. Truthfully, Dick had liked not having to think too much in that part of his life. It was easier to not create trouble between any of his family members, so he did what Dick Sr. said and dated Madison. He had pretended that she mattered; it had seemed like a good plan to just go with what he was told to do.

He had never even thought about what it would be like to tell Dick Sr. no. Even once Dick Sr. was gone, running from the law; Dick had felt the expectation to keep up with appearances. If Dick Sr. had just burned their chances of being financially secure on their own, Dick Jr. had better keep up with the 09ers and the people that counted. So he pursued what he thought Madison represented: security. But Beaver was the complete opposite. One day, here Cassidy came with Mac. Holding her hand, laughing at their smart humor, not even caring what anyone else thought except the fact that Mac seemed to like him for some insane reason. Dick had been shocked that Mac would even consider dating 'up;' and he had a knee-jerk reaction the whole time they were together. It had never occurred to him that Mac would look twice at either Casablancas, not when Veronica Mars was her best friend.

Cassidy had seemed to really like or even love Mac; he seemed content with what he had with Mac. It had been an epiphany, really, watching Beaver with Mac and even watching Logan pine for Veronica, senior year and then for the past decade. Proof to Dick that money meant little to nothing, when it came to what really mattered in life, because neither of those girls had much to offer besides their love. Dick began to realize—he needed a better purpose than just keeping up with what was expected. But the problem was his purpose and his need had already been taken—by Cassidy. Cassidy, the mean, crazy little sucker who could pull the wool over everyone's eyes making people believe that he was normal and that Dick was the troubled one. Cassidy played calm and collected, which in turn made Dick seem off-balanced because they were polar-opposite brothers. Cassidy was smart, smarter than anyone really gave him credit for, and that made his end-game work for a long time. Dick had never excelled in anything except being a jack ass. It was easy being one, and besides, Dick wasn't naive in thinking that Cassidy never tainted Mac's mind about everything Dick did back then. He hadn't made it any easier on himself. He knew what Mac thought of him the year she was with Cassidy. It wasn't flattering. So yes, when he had said he was jealous, it was because Cassidy was bolder and braver than Dick. But it also meant jealous of the fact that Cassidy had Mac.

Graduation had come and Cassidy had died but instead of rising from the aftermath, Dick sunk as low as he could to try and forget. He couldn't deal for a long time. He obsessed a lot about why he hadn't spoken up sooner about Beaver and his weird habits, worried about the bullying he himself had done to his little brother from early on and the obvious effect that it had played in Beaver's final decision. By the time he had reemerged, Logan had lost Veronica and Mac was gone, their chance meetings over. There was no real reason to ever just run into Mac or even apologize while sober. Mac thought Dick was pond scum and irresponsible and an idiot, all his opportunity lost. He didn't deserve any real contentment anyway, because he was partly to blame for what had happened back then. It was his punishment for being the first domino in the destruction of his brother. He had assumed that the niggling thought in the back of his mind was all he'd ever get of her: just a lost dream that he had to shelf in order to go on with life.

After their talk in the car and they arrived at the apartment last night, Dick had not been thinking of ways to seduce or lure her into bed. Quite the contrary. He figured he would just fix himself yet another sandwich and leave Mac to her brooding; he could sense the wheels turning in her mind the whole ride home, and had expected she would just lock herself in her room alone for the rest of the night. Something serious had been weighing heavily on her mind.

Instead, she had led him into her room, a vixen on a mission, he her willing slave. Astounded at her boldness, he had tried to be cautious, and damn, that had been a poor choice. If he wouldn't have stopped and stuttered, they would have been too far gone for any amount of knocking that Veronica did on the other side of that damn door to stop. Instead, boom! Mac's eyes had registered shock and embarrassment. She had rushed to cover herself, and he knew that the moment was over. He had laughed at her haste to dress, but inside he was boiling. Boiling mad at Veronica and her damn nosiness. Giving Mac an out had seemed like the best course of action, and, again, poor choice. Veronica, not known for her subtlety, had attacked him the minute he came out from changing. Angry as he was, there was no way in hell that he would let her get to him; he would not be cowed down enough to tell her their business.

Mac showed at the worst possible moment, although he had a feeling she had been listening the entire time. Her big brown eyes had stared at him while he had apologized to Veronica for all that shit that went down, his heart constricting as he felt her gaze on him, and he, unable to look at either one of them. Veronica hated him, he knew it; he wondered if she would ever get over it. He hoped so. At least one of them would. He had left Mac, standing in that room, looking impossibly young and vulnerable, reminding him horribly of all those kids that were ignored once abused, believing that any possible chance of her coming to him that night were over. And, not surprisingly, she hadn't come to him; therefore, after two hours of staring at the ceiling, he had finally gotten up and shut the door, giving up. These past few days were flushed down the toilet. Over. He began working out a new game plan of how to soften her up, how to make her see that he could be serious and that he had become someone worth her time.

And then…and then, he had felt her soft body pressing against him, and he thought he was dreaming, so he took what he could, taking his time to taste her, to run his hands across her body and then…she sighed. And he heard it. All the other times he had dreamed this, there was no noise, just a smile from her, a touch or two, and then it would be over. But this time, she sighed. And her lips were on his, and when his eyes opened, and she was there, with him…and, oh, my God he was amazed at his ability to slow down, to make sure she enjoyed it. He had to mentally keep count of his breathing in and out, in and out, when he had her lay back on him, to keep from just taking her there from behind. But he knew if he treated it in the slowest way possible, that he could show her in a way that words could not express, that he wanted her there, with him, always. To make her want to come back for more…because he knew he would never get enough of her. Ever.

She had finally begun the deep breathing of sleep. Pulling her closer into him, Dick kissed the top of Mac's head. He was worried that she would fight this. Yet here she was, snuggled into him. If the past few days had taught him anything, he knew he would have to treat this situation one moment at a time and be ever so careful to not scare her off. There was something going on with her that had made her come to him this morning. Dick cautioned himself to watch his words and actions. He wasn't deluded in thinking that she had suddenly decided she couldn't live without him. Veronica had opened old wounds that would take time to heal up again. He didn't want to say anything that would threaten or upset the strange way their relationship was evolving. If she kicked him out when they got up for the day, he wouldn't argue with her (well he probably would, but he would let her think she won), but he would make it clear that it was her idea and not his. He hoped he could be patient.

A/N: thanks again for reading. Next up on the agenda is mysteries mysteries mysteries. And angst. Plus some mystery plotline thrown in. Thank you for taking time to read this thing. I appreciate it, and all your feedback, comments, positive or negative. I do hope you continue to enjoy! Please let me know how you think this chapter went. Please forgive me for his rambling.