Mac's last line in the lunchtime conversation is a quote from the relevant computer game, which this long after its release remains one of the funniest 1st-person shooters ever to exist. We are now into the severely altered Kanes and Abels.

Otherwise, a more or less light transition chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars. Someone else does. Lucky someone.

X X X X X

I actually managed to enjoy this good mood for the better part of a couple of days.

One of my records, sadly.

Both Mac and Wallace sat with me and Logan at lunch that day. I invited Meg and Duncan to sit too but neither one of them seemed especially comfortable with the idea.

A little distance might do us some good for the moment anyway. Based on yesterday I didn't think we'd all end up hating each other.

Logan and Mac spent most of the lunch speaking about video games in what might as well have been a foreign tongue to me.

"Wallace," I said while they were arguing about whether the Sims was one of the best or worst ideas ever created, "Buddy. Friend."

Rolling his eyes, he said, "Who this time?"

"Why, Wallace. What makes you think I want something from you?"

"Long and bitter experience."

I laughed and said, "Caz Truman's file. Sabrina Fuller thinks he's been stalking her and I want to see if there're any similar incidents on his record."

"Done."

Then I turned and said, "All video games stink!" As Mac and Logan turned and looked at me with murder on their minds, I said, "Knew that would get your attention. Now then. Mac, I need a favor from you and Wallace." As Wallace protested, I said, "A serious one. Logan, I'll need your help too."

"Of course," Logan said.

"I can't tell you why, yet. But I need to have people I can trust around when I tell somebody something . . . delicate." Logan looked at me, startled. I think he knew what I meant. "I'll tell you before it all goes down. But this is too public."

Wallace sighed. "What the hell. In for a penny and all that."

"Mac?" I asked.

"Nothing physical will be involved?"

"Walking, talking, breathing . . ." At her mild glare, I said, "No."

"I'll do it." After a second. "I miss the old days when all you'd do is ask me for computer help."

"Sorry about that, Willow," I said. "But we all knew you'd have to start going out on patrol sometime."

"Try not to actually keep calling me that," Mac muttered.

And now Mac and I got the "You-have-two-heads look" so known and loved by geeks everywhere.

"So, Mars," Logan said eventually. "MacKenzie and I were going to do another video game challenge this afternoon."

"Fine by me," I said. "I've got a stalker to stalk."

"My turn to pick an old game this time," Mac said. "Redneck Rampage."

Wallace sputtered out his soda as I started laughing. "They actually have a computer game," he said, "Called Redneck Rampage?"

"It's about 7-8 years old by now, but yeah," Mac said.

"This I gotta see," Wallace said.

"Okay," Logan said, "But no snide commentary this time."

"Hold on a second," I said. "You. Logan Echolls. The undisputed master of the snarky comment. Are asking someone not to be a smartass." He nodded. "That's like Ashlee Simpson telling someone they have a lousy singing voice."

"There are two things I take seriously," Logan said. "Video games are one of them." And a look at me told me what the other one was.

I gave him a quick kiss. Logan looked happy. Mac looked amused. Wallace looked elsewhere.

When I was done, Mac said, in an atrocious southern accent, "Echolls, my advice to you is to start drinkin' heavy."

"That's advice I can take."

After we were done, as we walked back to class, Logan asked, "Are you sure you want to tell him?"

Ticking it off on my fingers, I said, "Me, you, Lamb, Duncan, Meg, Jake Kane, Clarence Weidman. I can't see any of them deliberately telling him, but I don't want to take chance on it getting back to him before I can tell him myself."

"Makes sense," he said. "So. Wanna go doubleteam Beaver again?'"

"Not today. I'm still in a really good mood and I don't want to spoil it."

"I'm betting I have something to do with that good mood," he murmured.

I elbowed him in the ribs. "Something. Not everything. Egomaniac."

X X X X X

I caught Caz in the parking lot after work and told him to quit harassing Sabrina; he acted surprised and stunned by my accusations; I told him what had been happening; he denied everything and drove off.

They never want to make it easy. Of course, that's what makes it so much fun.

I went to Dad's office to do some paperwork; a woman came in and wanted to hire dad to set her husband up so that he'd violate their pre-nup by cheating on him. It was amusing for a while, but once she got to the "he likes blondes -- about like you, maybe you could do it, actually . . ." part, I threw her out of the office. She was muttering something about Vinnie van Lowe as she left.

I looked over Caz's file while I was waiting. Quite a bit of mischief for our boy Caz. Nothing overly malicious, though. More on the order of "put a twenty on a string and yank it away" then "kill ex-girlfriend's puppy." Given that Sabrina's mother is president of the school board, though, I doubted she'd let her daughter date anyone with more of a record than that. If Sabrina even looked in Weevil's direction, I think her mom would keel over of a heart attack.

Right as I was about to close up shop, Dad walked in whistling a jaunty tune and carrying a briefcase. When he saw me, he held out the briefcase and said, "Guess what I have in here!"

"A million in uncut emeralds?"

"Wrong!"

"Marcellus Wallace's soul?"

"Wrong! I have," he said, pulling a sheaf of papers out of the brief case, "Amelia DeLongpre's settlement papers with Kane Software!"

"You don't!"

"I do!"

I laughed in happiness and ran up to hug him. "Now don't get too excited, Veronica," he said. "This isn't enough to get Abel Koontz out of jail."

Frowning, I said, "But that plus the shoes --"

"Equals reasonable doubt in a court of law. If we were still in the trial phase, we'd get him cleared. But he's already on death row, sweetie. We could go to the papers and raise a stink about this but Cliff wouldn't get very far before a judge. We still need that smoking gun."

"Then make copies and spread them around."

"Done and done," he said. "One goes in my safe, one's with Cliff, and the other one is somewhere I'm not telling so you don't get any ideas."

"Can I at least look at these for a second?"

He said sure, but he wasn't leaving the room while I did. I looked them over and got Dad's point. The numbers were big, the timing was awfully convenient, but there wasn't anything spelling out the nature of the agreement. Not that Jake Kane's a big enough idiot to spell out "In exchange for umpty-ump million dollars to Amelia DeLongpre, Abel Koontz will confess to murdering my daughter," but still.

"So how have your last couple of days been?"

Oh, fine. Told off Jake Kane, went to take a paternity test with him, flirted with being declared an enemy of the state, had sex with Logan. You? "Pretty good. Sabrina Fuller's being harassed by someone at school and I'm trying to figure out who. Otherwise, nothing big."

"Good. Because you know --"

"Backup reports everything. Yes Dad. You've told me."

"And I will be asking."

"I'm sure you will."

Of course, if Backup actually did talk, I was a dead woman.

X X X X X

That night, I went over to Sabrina's and waited for her harassed to put in an appearance. An hour or so later -- and a more boring hour I've never spent, honestly, Sabrina Fuller may be a genius, and I'm not too shabby myself in the brain department, but all academics all the time is not my idea of a fun way to spend a life.

I caught Caz Truman lurking nearby -- as I told him, the innocent rarely lurk -- and not long afterwards a bunch of ravers showed up. To my surprise, none of them seemed to recognize Caz as the guy who'd told them to come. Of course, from the amount of drugs they'd taken, they probably wouldn't have recognized their own mothers.

On the way home, I called Logan.

"Hey, Mars," he said.

"Before you ask," I said, "No chance of a repeat performance of last night. At least not tonight. Dad's home."

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Don't like to live dangerously?"

"Dangerously, not suicidally. So how'd the Redneck Rampage challenge go?" His response was unintelligible. "What was that?"

"She beat me again, okay?" I laughed. "Nice to see you're being so supportive of your boyfriend."

"Awww," I said, "Did the big bad blue-haired hacker chick strike a devastating blow to your male ego? Want Veronica to come over and make it all better?"

"No, and," his voice got sexy for a second, "Absolutely."

For a second, I was tempted. Then I remembered that Dad was actually home and would probably not take kindly to his daughter spending all night at the Echolls residence. "Evil tempter," I said.

"Awww," he said, "Is Vewonica's wibido in overdwive?"

"Well, it was until you did your Elmer Fudd impression."

"Hey, short bald hunters need love too."

"Goodnight, Logan."

X X X X X

The next day at school was a fairly easy one. I breezed through my midterms, Duncan and Meg actually talked to me for a few minutes, and Logan and I got some quality makeout time before school, during lunch, and immediately afterwards.

I decided against confronting Beaver Casablancas again until I was actually between cases. Let him think I'd bought his lie.

As far as who'd put the GHB in my drink went, I had my theories: It wasn't Dick, Sean, Beaver, Duncan or Logan. None of the other guys there would have done it without being around to take advantage of it. It wasn't Carrie Bishop's style, it sure as hell hadn't been Meg, and Shelly Pomroy, from all accounts, had been as out of it as I was.

As far as I was concerned, that left two options: accident . . . and Madison Sinclair.

Tomorrow, let's see what's behind door number two.

In the meantime . . . here I was, standing in front of the Kane mansion for the second time in three days. Tonight, it's for the Lilly Kane scholarship.

I rang the bell and waited.

Jake and Celeste opened the door. Celeste walked away immediately after greeting me. As I walked in, Jake whispered in my ear, "The results are in. I'll tell you about them when I have the time."

And right then is when my good mood came to a screeching halt.