CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

"Test results?" Logan's soft question came from behind her left shoulder. A LOT closer than she'd expected. Veronica resisted the urge to bang her forehead on the door. Instead, she closed it gently and set the alarm before turning to face the music.

A lie would prevent the inevitable fight. She could tell him anything—super glue fuming for fingerprints—and he would believe her because he trusted her. But if she wanted to keep that trust, now was the time for the truth.

"Before you get mad, let me explain."

His relaxed posture was deceptive. He was leaning in the open doorway, one shoulder pressed to the wall, arms folded, and legs crossed at the ankles. But his eyes were hard. "What sort of test required FBI assistance?"

The question was needless. They both knew exactly what test she'd done - the one she'd been obsessively thinking about ever since Pam arrived. "I wasn't going to look at the results until I talked to you."

"Well gee, Veronica, I guess that makes it all okay then." He pushed off the wall. "So what did you take? Did you swab my cheek while I was sleeping? Or yank a few hairs from my head? Steal my toothbrush?"

"It was a condom."

"How mercenary of you."

The accusation stung. "You didn't leave me much of a choice."

"What about just ASKING me? 'Hey, Logan I know you believe Pam when she says Tyler isn't yours, but could you get a DNA test anyway?' See how easy that was?"

"I shouldn't have had to say any of that - you should have VOLUNTEERED."

He tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling; his chest slowly rising and falling as he took a few deep breaths. "I thought it was resolved. We weren't fighting, and you seemed okay, always inviting Pam and Tyler to do things with us. I thought you'd accepted that he wasn't mine."

"Really? You thought I'd just suddenly decided to accept Pam's word without proof? Have we met?" She held out her hand. "I'm Veronica Mars." When he ignored her outstretched hand, she let her arm fall to her side.

"At the risk of repeating myself, Pam wouldn't lie to me."

She clenched her fists, irked by his absolute faith in Pam's veracity. "Fine, maybe she isn't lying. Maybe she doesn't KNOW."

"You knew, right? When you told me you were pregnant, you knew Wyatt was mine."

"Of course I did." Veronica staggered back a step. "You're not actually questioning if—"

"God, no." In two long strides, he eliminated the space between them. He curved his palm around her cheek, stroking his thumb across her skin. "I never doubted you, Veronica. Never."

His steadfast gaze reassured, and she nodded, relieved. "Then why… " Her relief quickly gave way to anger. "Oh, I see. You think because I knew, Pam does too." She ducked under his arm and stalked into the living room with Logan on her heels. She rounded on him. "My mother didn't know."

"Lianne is an alcoholic who has a loose relationship with the truth." A dismissive wave accompanied his words. One she couldn't fault him for because of its accuracy.

Veronica tried a different tack."Have you even considered Tyler? Doesn't he have the right to know who his father is?"

"That's for Pam to decide, and let's not pretend you did this for Tyler."

Veronica continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And what about our girls, huh? Do you want them to grow up and suddenly find out they have a brother? Charlie Stone ring any bells?"

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking like a time bomb, but his voice when he spoke was low and steady. "So let me get this straight…if Tyler is Charlie in your little scenario, who does that make me? Aaron?"

"That's not what I'm saying, and you know it. Don't try to make this fight about something it's not."

"Then what is this fight about? Your jealousy issues? My Greek tragedy of a past? Or could it just be your complete lack of trust in me?" His doleful gaze pinned her to the spot, searching her face as if he truly didn't know the answer.

"I do trust YOU."

"Really?" He scoffed. "Because going behind my back to conduct secret paternity tests doesn't exactly sound like a solid foundation for a marriage."

A frisson of fear slid down her spine. "What are you saying?"

"Actions speak louder than words, Veronica, and what yours are telling me is that your trust is conditional. As long as I do what you want, when you want, and never stray from your rules, it's all good." He dragged a hand through his hair. "Fuck, this isn't even about something I did wrong now, present tense, you're angry about a relationship I had six years ago when you weren't even here."

"You're wrong," she said flatly, hands curling into fists at her side. "This is NOT about your past, and I am NOT jealous."

He circled the couch, putting more distance between them. "If I came home… no, when I come home to see you and Wallace having dinner with the kids, do I get jealous or angry?"

"That's a nonsensical argument- I didn't date Wallace." Before he could add his 'I didn't date Pam either' caveat, she added, "And I've never had sex with him."

Logan brushed aside her words with an imperious hand wave. "Pam arrives and you're all over the map- one minute acting like you're fine, the next upset. So I tell Pam to stay away, and you-"

"You told Pam to stay away?"

"-invite her over for dinner," he continued as if he didn't hear her. "You're the one who volunteered me to be her chauffeur several times, suggested she sleep at the house. I go to the science center to have lunch with my daughters, only to find YOU added Tyler to the plan."

"She'd left him alone with Dick of all people." Veronica stalked across the room, closing the space between them. "And you're the one who was so eager to help them. I was just making sure he was safe."

"Me? I'm the one who wanted to give Pam money to make her problem go away, or to leave town. You're the one who INSISTED on playing Donnie Brasco. And, you're the one who implied I didn't give a fuck about the safety of our daughters by having them around, yet you made me give Pam a fucking KEY and the alarm code to our house!"

Heat flushed through her body, darkening her cheeks, and she said through gritted teeth, "Throwing money at the problem wasn't going to fix anything."

"And what about our lunch, Veronica? We agreed to work together-no more fighting. I thought we'd resolved your issues."

"My issues?"

"So tell me- did you run the paternity test before our peace accord at Charm Thai Kitchen, or after?"

There was no way for her to answer that question without setting off another round of screaming, so she sidestepped. "I told you I wasn't going to look at the results until we talked."

"And what if I said no? What then, Veronica? Would you have thrown them out, shredded them, or would you have read them anyway?"

"I…I..." She stammered. The idea Logan would refuse her had never crossed her mind. To her it had been a foregone conclusion. She'd explain the test to him, and her reasons for needing to know, and he'd readily agree. This wasn't the way this conversation was supposed to go (stupid Gil and his big mouth). "This is about our family and how the presence of Tyler affects us."

Something in her tone gave him pause. He opened his mouth, then closed it. His eyes narrowed, creating deep furrows in his forehead, as he studied her with the intense, penetrating gaze that made her feel like he could read her thoughts.

Veronica stared at him, waiting. Sometimes it still had the power to surprise her- how much she loved him. Her heart felt heavy. She'd hurt him with her silence. Not sharing her feelings about Tyler had created this rift between them, and she needed to... do something to fix it. "If he's your son, everything will change."

He shook his head. "You are my home, Veronica- you and the girls. The only home I've ever had. Nothing can or will ever change that."

His continued denial rankled. "You'll belong to another family. One that doesn't include me." The admission-hearing it out loud-freed all the fears she'd been holding inside. "You'll be making decisions with Pam. Holidays and family trips will involve her input, and it will never be just the four of us again."

"Veronica." His voice was soft, tender even. "He's not mine."

"But you can't be sure. Not without a paternity test." She mauled her bottom lip. "I'll lose a part of you to them."

Another denial was right there. She could see it hovering on his parted lips, but then it dissipated as he considered her words and he clamped his mouth shut. When he spoke again, his voice was measured. "If Pam doesn't know, and Tyler turns out to be my son, what then Veronica? Are you going to run? Pack up the girls and call it quits?"

The question stunned her to silence. Not just the question, but his palpable distress. It never even crossed her mind- the idea of leaving. They'd tried life on their own and still found their way back to each other. If it hadn't been Carrie's murder, it would've been something else. She didn't believe in fate or destiny, but she believed in them.

"I guess your long silence is my answer."

"No," Veronica said quickly, and then again, firmer. "No. My long silence is because I love you, Logan and I want to make sure to get this right so you understand- I am not going anywhere, ever. This is us, forever. No matter what happens, we'll make it work."

He paused, then finally nodded. It was the longest pause of her life. And for the first time she wondered if his reluctance to even think about Tyler being his had less to do with Pam and more to do with old-Veronica. Everyone leaves me. It was his biggest fear and his worst nightmare- the people he loved abandoning him.

If she were honest with herself, it was one of her fears too...him leaving. It was why the idea of Pam rattled her so much. "Your life probably would've been easier if you'd just married Pam, huh?" She tried joking, but failed to keep the hard edge from her tone. "You'd have the passel of kids and that damn dog you want so much."

"You're who I want, Veronica- you have ALWAYS been the one I want." He lightly touched her cheek and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I would rather fight with you, than have ten kids and a dog with anyone else, including Pam."

Veronica pressed her palms to his chest, then slid her hands up over his shoulders and wrapped her arms around his neck. Logan cradled her hips and pulled her to him, holding her tight. Resting her head on him, she nestled closer. Home.

"Now that we're agreed, I should call Oscar before the lab closes."

"Agreed? Are you kidding me?" He asked, exasperated. Taking a step back, he let his arms fall from her waist. "When did you hear me say, yes let's get the results from your illicit lab test?"

"I thought-"

"I'm not going behind Pam's back to determine the paternity of her son." He slowly shook his head. "I can't believe you."

"This is who I am," she said, flatly. "I need the proof. You know who you married."

"I do," he said gravely, dragging a tired hand over his eyes and rubbing his face. "But here'a novel idea- why don't I just ask her for a test?"

Unlike how you asked me. He didn't say it, but the sentiment hung in the air. Obviously, this conflict wasn't going to be mended with a few kisses and a Tinkerbell band-aid. "And if she says no?"

"How about we cross that bridge IFwe get to it, instead of burning it down with dynamite and a blow torch?" He shoved a hand in his front pocket, withdrew his keys, and heel-turned toward the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to Pam."

"Don't go." Her request stopped him in his tracks. "Not tonight," she added. Having him leave while he was still angry made her uneasy, and she certainly didn't want him running to Pam with their dirty laundry. "We should…" Her eyes darted around, searching for an answer, and failing to find one.

"I don't want to keep fighting with you, Veronica," he said, even as he tossed his keys in the bowl on the hall table.

"I don't want that either." Her mind struck on a peace offering. "We could go to dinner, just the two of us? A big corner booth at The Butcher Shop?" A winsome smile accompanied her words. "Medium-rare filet mignon with the smoked bleu cheese and caramelized shallot demi-glace?" It was his own special combo of items on the menu, the one he ordered every time they went.

Alarm beeps warned of an impending siren and silenced Logan's response. They both glanced toward the front door, then looked at each other. "I thought the kids were-"

Again he was interrupted. This time by a shouted, "Daddeeee." A teary-faced Wyatt tumbled through the door and raced inside. "Daddeee!" She jumped for him, expecting to be caught, and Logan scooped her up mid-air. Translating her babbling was impossible, and she increased the degree of difficulty by burying her face in Logan's neck.

Next through the door was Dottie with a whimpering Bailey, and Keith brought up the rear, laden with all the kid paraphernalia required for day trips and sleepovers. Not a good sign. Veronica saw her peacemaking plans go up in smoke. "What happened?"

"Bailey's fever is back," Dottie said by way of explanation, transferring the fussy baby to her. "And Wyatt got very upset at the giraffe pen, demanding we produce Logan, and when we couldn't…" She shrugged.

"Meltdown," Veronica correctly guessed. Feeding the giraffes was Wyatt's favorite thing to do with Daddy at the zoo. It was Veronica's own fault for not reminding them to steer clear of the towering Masai.

"I'm sorry to cut and run," Dottie said, slipping the diaper bag from her shoulder. "But we have to get home to the dog." She put the bag atop the pile of stuff Keith unceremoniously dropped on and around the hall tree. "Will you need us to come back tomorrow night?"

I need you to stay now. Veronica thought, but didn't say. "Tuesday night."

Logan frowned. It was yet another thing for them to fight over- her willingness to go back undercover for Gil.

"Sorry about the failed sleepover, kiddo," Keith said, leaning over to give first Bailey and then Veronica a quick kiss on the temple. He offered Logan a wry grin, and nodded toward Wyatt- a gesture meant to imply 'good luck'- before leaning over to kiss his granddaughter. The attempt resulted in Wyatt burrowing deeper into Logan, tightening her grip on him like he might disappear from beneath her. Keith gave up, and turned to Dottie. "Ready?"

In answer, she sailed through the door with a jangle of the car keys and a quick wave. Keith was only a step behind her. Their alacrity spoke volumes about what kind of day they had with the Mars/Echolls hellions. Veronica sighed. "The Butcher Shop does take-out. I could go pick up dinner?"

Logan shook his head. "Let's just order pizza."

"Pita?" Wyatt chirped. "With 'roni?"

A tender smile spread across his face, and he craned his neck to kiss her forehead. "Sure Jellybean, we can have pepperoni." His smile fractured when he looked at Veronica. "Extra cheese?"

"Get whatever you want." Veronica plucked the diaper bag from its precarious perch on the porta crib. "I'm going to feed Bailey." She could feel Logan's gaze follow her into the living room, but he made no move to join her, choosing instead to carry Wyatt and her small suitcase down the hall toward the bedrooms.

Pain behind Veronica's left eye signaled the start of a killer headache, and tension stiffened her body, transmitting itself to Bay, whose whimpers grew louder. She and Logan had been so close to a resolution until she'd brought up that damn test again. Now, a wide chasm was yawning between them, and her brain was cycling through ways to bridge the gap at an exhausting pace.

Veronica rocked the baby with one arm, and with the other fished a Mimujimi from the bag. "Sorry Rabbit, but it's bottled milk for you tonight." Bailey flailed a tiny fist. "Don't even think about it, little one." Veronica caught her hand and kissed her fingers. "Mommy's all fought out for the evening."

She teased the bottle past Bailey's clamped lips, receiving a baleful stare for her effort, and then tried to shove the entire diaper bag with the remaining bottles onto the top shelf of the fridge. The action jostled Bay's milk supply, and she howled in protest. "Gee, hungry much?"

"She's not the only one," Logan said, entering the kitchen with Wyatt glued to his leg. He took the diaper bag from Veronica's hand and emptied its contents. "Every two seconds, Wy asks if the pita is here yet- thirty minutes or less better not be a myth."

Veronica grimaced. "And you better not have ordered from-"

"I know, I know," Logan said, cutting her off. "It's not real pizza. I got an extra cheese with pepperoni from Mama Mia's."

"Good man." She smiled. "Here, you take over feeding Bay, and I'll get the dining room ready."

A questioning-lift of a single eyebrow was his only response, which she left unanswered as she passed him Bailey. Their dining table might not be a romantic corner booth at The Butcher Shop, but it was cozy, with an amazing view of the ocean and a fireplace. Veronica started a fire first, then set the table with a linen cloth, candles, and their fine china. One fancy pizza dinner for three, coming up.

"I know their pizza is good, but not this good," Logan said, dryly. He stopped swinging Bailey's carrier, and put it on the floor near the hearth. The baby was quietly sucking on her pacifier, eyelids half-closed, and her tiny hands were balled into fists, resting on her chest.

While Logan seemed unimpressed by the setting, Wyatt clapped her appreciation at the elegant surroundings and then raced from the room. Veronica grinned. "Wanna bet she returns with top hats and boas for everyone?"

"That's a sucker's bet." He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and volunteered no further conversation.

The doorbell saved them from the ensuing awkward silence. Logan went to meet the delivery man, and Veronica went for wine. It was going to be that kind of night.

Thankfully, Wyatt's insistence on dressing them (boas and crowns, not top hats), her endless chatter, and her love of all things cheese-related kept them from having to speak to each other for an interminable hour of eating.

Unfortunately, all the wine did was make Veronica's headache worse.

When they were finally finished, Logan cleaned Wyatt's face, and then freed her from the booster seat so she could- "P'ay now." All of two seconds elapsed between her departure and the sound of bricks being dumped on the hardwood. The noises that followed weren't as easy to identify, but from experience Veronica knew it was several (if not all) of her toy bins joining the colorful building blocks on the floor.

"I'll clean up," Logan offered.

"Dinner… or her toys?"

He smiled. "If I take care of the toys, you have to do bath time."

"No deal. She'd just tell me I wasn't doing it right, and demand you anyway." Veronica swallowed the last gulp of wine. "On second thought, maybe I should take the offer. This way you'd get stuck doing both."

Logan laughed. "Too late- you had your chance."

"Rats." She snapped her fingers. "That's what I get for speaking without thinking."

Ostensibly she was talking about the toys, but Logan's uncanny ability to understand Veronica-speak, led him to say, "If Pam refuses to take the test, we can call your friend, Oscar." From his expression, she could tell he wasn't overjoyed at the prospect, but he'd do it for her, and her peace of mind.

"Thank you." She refilled her glass. The fear was still there- fear Tyler was his son, fear that Logan's heart would be divided between two separate homes, fear things would change- but it was nice to not carry the burden alone. "And if it's positive?"

The idea gave him pause. "I don't know, Veronica."

She stared at him over the rim of her wine glass without speaking. The questions plagued her. Would he want visitation rights, or joint custody? Would he enroll Tyler in the private school he was so keen about for Wyatt? What about their living arrangements? Would he want Tyler to live closer? Was he going to put his name on the birth certificate and insist on changing Tyler's last name to Echolls?

Veronica bit her tongue. Pushing him into another fight over the purely hypothetical was not a smart move. She changed the subject. "Did Bay finish her bottle?"

"Down to the last drop." He smirked. "And she doesn't have a temperature."

She fake-gasped. "Are you suggesting my father and Dottie lied to us, just for some alone time and a night in their own bed?"

"Not necessarily, but Wyatt's temper tantrum might've helped elevate 'slightly warm' to 'fever' without Dottie feeling any guilt over her word choice." He transferred the three remaining slices of pizza to his plate, then crushed the box.

"Planning to eat all those?"

"And leave you without your cold pizza fix in the middle of the night? Hardly." Standing, he polished off Wyatt's crust and stacked the plates. After shoving the crumpled cardboard under his arm, he balanced the dishes in one hand, and gathered his glass and Wyatt's sippy cup in the other. Then he carried the entire mess into the kitchen in one trip.

When he returned, he came bearing coffee for two and chocolate biscotti. Veronica helped herself to one of the cookies. There were chocolate chips baked inside, and they tasted like rich, crunchy brownies. "Where were you hiding these babies?"

"In the Sunsweet Prunes container."

"Is none of the healthy food in the house real? Have you been faking your smart eating choices while squirelling away packages of Ring Dings and Ho-Hos?"

"I'll never tell." Sipping his coffee, he rejoined her at the table. "But stay away from the box of brown rice and quinoa."

Their banter was a little strained, but it was better than the alternative. Veronica took another crisp bite of biscotti, and nearly choked on it when Logan said, "I don't want you working undercover at Shenanigans anymore."

"Gil needs my help, and I owe him."

"I don't give a shit what kind of favor Gil thinks you owe him. Sam is dangerous, Veronica." Logan put down his coffee with a resounding thunk. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Special Agent Townsend of the FBI can catch bad guys all by himself- he's a big boy."

"Without his intervention in March, Lamb would've arrested me for shooting Gina," she gently reminded him.

Logan didn't budge. "Even without Gil's help, Lamb would've had to let you go when the DA decided not to file charges."

That sounded good in theory, but in reality, Veronica wasn't so sure. The same district attorney who had indicted her for Piz's murder was still in office, and he might've relished another shot at putting her in jail. Without the FBI officially leaning on Balboa County law enforcement, a lengthy murder trial seemed almost inevitable.

Of course, she would've claimed self defense, but juries were unpredictable. If they hadn't believed her actions were reasonable, they might have deemed it 'imperfect self defense', and her resulting conviction for voluntary manslaughter could have sent her to the state pen for the max sentence of eleven years. Wyatt would've been thirteen years old by the time Veronica got out.

It was a lengthy discussion they'd had in the immediate aftermath, and one they didn't need to rehash, but… Veronica frowned. "What about Pam? Gil's going to make sure she gets a deal."

He shrugged. "Right now there's nothing to charge her with, and once you prove to Sam she didn't steal from him, she can buy her way out of the business and leave the club before shit hits the fan."

"I'm sure it will be fine," she said, dismissing his concerns. "I'm not even on Sam's radar, and the federal surveillance will stay in place- you saw how fast they got to the club. Maybe I can wear a wire, and-"

"And hide it where? In your g-string?"

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "-they'll give me a code word to use if I'm in trouble."

Logan looked incredulous. "You actually sound jazzed by the idea of putting yourself at risk." It was a term he'd used before in relation to her cases, 'jazzed', but this time it was voiced with less admiration and more disgust. "Remember, they all die at the end of The Departed."

Veronica's temper flared. "Are you saying I can't handle it?"

"No, I'm saying that I can't. What if something happens to YOU? You've been worried for weeks about how our family might change if Tyler's my son; what happens to our family if you're hurt, or even worse, killed?"

Her eyes narrowed. He'd said he didn't want to keep fighting with her, but obviously that was a lie. He just didn't want to fight about Pam. It was impossible to know if he was making rational arguments, or if his anger had found a new outlet. "So you want me to... what? Let Sam continue to sell women to the highest bidder, and walk away?"

"Yes." Was his terse reply.

"I'm not built that way."

"Remember when you confessed your fears about getting so caught up in an investigation that you'd put Wyatt in danger? That's what you're doing. You're putting her in danger of losing her mother."

"Oh, I guess it's your turn to throw the past in my face. Tit-for-tat?"

"It's not the past, Veronica, it's happening right now, in the present."

"Fuck you, Logan."