Pre-"Weapons of Class Destruction." And thanks once again to DarlingVioleta777 for catching my mistake in part 42.

Disclaimer: I do, in fact, own Veronica Mars. And a billion dollars. And a cat named Carrie.

Okay, I'm not lying about the cat.

X X X X X

I'd also given Lamb a statement about what had happened, both at the party and yesterday after school. . While he looked like he would rather be juggling chainsaws, he didn't make any wiseass comments. I'm not sure whether that was because Clemmons was in the room with us or because he knew I had the moral high ground, but I was grateful either way.

After I'd told him "told you so," he left without another word.

Clemmons looked at me after the sheriff's departure. "You . . . told him about this when it happened and he did nothing?" I nodded. "The next election he could be running against a beached whale and I'd vote for the whale."

"Thanks, Mr. Clemmons."

"That's just bad behavior. There are a lot of students at this school I don't personally like, Veronica. The minute I let that interfere with my job, I'm a bad administrator. And not a particularly good human being."

Clemmons had also called Dad, who came to school to pick me up. Of course, I was going home early. No one argued the point.

We got inside and Dad hugged me.

And then, and only then, did I let myself cry.

I have no idea when I stopped.

But I know he was still there when I did.

That's what daddies do.

X X X X X

Logan called during lunchtime. "You okay?"

"I think so," I said. "Came home and cried for a couple of hours."

"You amaze me, Mars. How did you hold it together that long?"

"Sheer willpower," I said. "I had something I had to do and I was. Not. Going to give anyone else the satisfaction of watching me have a complete breakdown in public."

"They'd have understood, Veronica."

"They weren't entitled to it," I said. "You. Dad. Wallace. That's it. All the crap that place and those people have put me through in the last year and a half. They don't get to see me cry."

"I think I get that," he said. "By the way. Not only is Beaver missing from school, so's Weevil."

"Clemmons told me crashed into him on his way to collect me from the classroom," I said.

"Well, apparently as soon as he heard Beaver confirmed he raped you, he ran out of his class swearing he was going to "kill that Casablancas bitch if he ever caught him."

"That's sweet."

"That's sweet?"

"For Weevil, that's sweet." I frowned. "I hope he doesn't actually catch him, though. I'd hate have Weevil in jail for the next twenty years."

"Two words, Mars: Justifiable homicide. I'll be by after school, but I want to go home and fill in mother dear on what's happened. I think she'll appreciate the full story." Then he stopped. "Here, Fennel has something to say."

"You holding up okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Then he laughed. "Man, if you thought Dick Casablancas was isolated before, that's nothing compared to now. People are treating him like he hadn't showered in a month."

I had no sympathy. "He brought it on himself," I said. "He might not have shot the gun, but he bought it, loaded it, and aimed it at me."

"Yes, he did." After a second: "You need anything?"

"Anyone of the six people at that school who cared about me before all of this happened can drop by after it's over."

"I'm getting your homework for you."

"Your invitation is rescinded."

X X X X X

I spent the rest of the day watching more Season 6 Buffy. I practically had to shove Dad out of the apartment and tell him to go get some work done. He didn't criticize me once for the risk I'd put myself in getting Beaver to confess. That's how worried he was.

Meg called the second school let out. "We did it!" she said excitedly.

"Yeah. Thanks to you. How did you get out of getting in trouble?"

"Gosh, I have no idea what happened," she said. "Someone must have swiped it when my back was turned. I hope Mr. Fennel can forgive me."

"You are unbelievable, Meg. No one ever wants to believe you'd do anything wrong. People could find you over a corpse holding a bloody knife, with your DNA all over the body and a tape showing you stabbing the person, and they'd assume someone was trying to frame you."

"I must use these powers only for good." Okay, now I knew I was rubbing off on her.

"So far, you're off to a great start."

I could practically hear her grin. "Thanks. Look, Duncan and I won't be able to come by; we're having dinner at the Kanes' tonight and I need to get ready. I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

"Yeah. Thanks to all of you."

Then she passed the phone to Duncan. "Nice acting job yesterday," I said.

"I'm just glad you gave me the warning," he said. "I know Logan wouldn't have done anything to Lilly, but hearing it cold for the first time yesterday might have thrown me for a while."

"I didn't want anything to go wrong," I said.

"Boy, he really did have everyone fooled, didn't he?" Duncan said. "Dick may have his problems, but he's at least he's openly an asshole. Cassidy, though –"

"Yeah. Anyway, thanks. Duncan. This whole 'friend' thing seems to be working well so far."

"Yeah, it does. Glad you're doing okay."

Mac didn't bother calling; she just dropped by.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey. Are you doing okay?"

"I should be asking you that," she said.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Or I will be. I kind of guessed it was coming so I was able to . . . brace myself."

"Why didn't you tell me so I could?" she said.

"Because it was a guess," I said gently. "It's why I asked how you were." Mac was the only one besides Beaver and I who'd seen everything that happened while it was happening.

"It's just," she said, "you read all about this kind of thing and you think, well, I don't know anyone like that. And then not only do I, it's someone I thought was cute and who in no way, shape, or form, resembles the monster he really is." She looked up, and now tears were forming in her eyes. "I mean, Madison Sinclair and Vanessa Mencken and all of that – they're not even in this league."

"They're not even playing the same sport," I said. And I believed it. I may have no use for Madison Sinclair, but her idea of an evil plot was spitting in my drink. "You can't tell me you didn't know evil existed."

"There's knowing, and there's knowing knowing," she said. "This is knowing knowing." After a second, "I think I've just put my finger on why I'm the sidekick."

"If you can quote Buffy, you can watch Buffy," I said. "I've got Once More With Feeling ready to go. You in?"

"The last good episode of season six," she said. "Okay."

I grinned. "I actually have a theory about season six . . ."

X X X X X

Half an hour later, I hadn't yet started the DVD player. That's because Mac and I were too busy screaming at each other about season six.

While Mac was detailing how badly Amber Benson'd been written off – she wasn't going to get an argument from me, there – there was an impatient knock at the door.

I opened it. Weevil stood there, rocking back and forth, like he was waiting for someone to tell him to run somewhere and he wanted to be ready the moment they did.

"I couldn't find him," he said. "I've been lookin' all day for that pendejo and I haven't been able to track him down." He slammed his right fist into his left palm. "Why didn't you tell me about this, V?"

"Because I wanted him to confess without the prospect of you beating him into a bloody smear on the pavement," I said. Then, "You've been looking all day?"

"Everywhere I could think a scared rich boy might run," he said. "He didn't go home and he ain't likely to, not with a couple of deputies parked by his front door. He ain't at the Grand or at the beach, either."

"Beaver's smart enough not to hide anywhere obvious," I said. "Anyway, I'm kind of glad you didn't find him." I smiled. "Though I appreciate the sentiment."

"What sentiment?" he asked. "And why'd you be glad about that?"

"Last one first. Because I don't want you spending 15-30 upstate. And the sentiment that made you go try to kill someone who'd raped me." I leaned in closer. "But don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Better be," he said. "Now, you doing alright?"

"Yeah," I pointed to Mac. "Got another friend here and I'm pretty much all cried out for the moment."

"Good to hear. Now. I'm going to go keep trying to find this kid. But just for you, if I do, most I'll do is hit him a few . . . dozen . . . times. There'll be enough left of the body to stand trial."

I said as he turned to go, "Weevil –"

"Yeah?"

"I do appreciate it."

He smiled. "Anytime, V." Then he left.

Logan came in before I closed the door. "Weevil didn't have any luck?" I shook my head no. "I'm not surprised. I'll bet Beaver hasn't stopped running yet."

Then Wallace followed him in and said, "With Weevil Navarro after him? Not if he's smart, he hasn't. He's probably all the way to Mexico by now."

That was something I hadn't thought of. What if Beaver got away? He's smart enough; he probably had some money stashed away, though I doubt he'd've thought he'd've ended up using it for something like this. "Mexico wouldn't stop Weevil," I said.

"I can imagine not. Hey there, MacKenzie."

"Echolls."

"So," Logan said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "What next? Any bank robbers we can track down?"

"Slow down, Briscoe," I said. "What's next, I hope, is a couple of days off. Think about what we've done in the last week, with Duncan, With Beaver. With all of that. I'm looking forward now to a day or two without doing a whole hell of a lot . . ." I looked at Logan and winked. "At least, not that we don't want to do."

Mac stood up and grabbed Wallace's arm. "That was our cue."

"Our cue? I just got here. And he drove me."

"I'll drive you back," Mac said. "Talk to you later, Veronica, and bye."

"Smart woman," Logan said after Mac and Wallace were gone.

"Understatement of the year," I murmured, and kissed him.

"You do realize we can't actually do anything too outrageous," Logan said, killing the mood.

"Ah yes," I said, taking off his jacket, "But that's what makes it exciting. The danger." I kissed him again.

When he pulled free, he said, "I live for danger," and kissed me on my neck.

"That's my boy."

Logan was pulling his pants back on when Dad started to open the door. He scrambled for the bathroom while I jumped onto the couch to finish buttoning up my blouse. I flipped the TV on as I heard Dad say, "Hi, sweetie."

I looked up. "Hi, Dad."

"Finding Barney fascinating?"

"Huh?"

"The TV."

I turned around. Sure enough, the annoying purple dinosaur was singing a song about friendship. "Oh, you mean this isn't a documentary? Oh, poo." I flipped the channel to a Seinfeld rerun.

"Uh-huh," he said. "Hi, Logan," Dad said to Logan, who was exiting the bathroom to the sound of a flushing toilet.

"Mr. Mars," Logan said. "I thought it best for Veronica not to be alone."

"I understand, and thank you. So, want to stick around for dinner? I've going to make my famous lasagna."

Logan looked at me. "He's exaggerating. It's not famous. But it is poised for stardom."

"Sounds good to me," Logan said.

Fifteen minutes later I received a call from Meg. "Put on the news. Channel 12."

I flipped the channel and saw Don Lamb standing in front of a podium. "At approximately 4:55 PM this afternoon," he said. "The Sheriff's department received a call from Marty Obenauer, who runs a limousine service here in Neptune. He told us that he had been hired a couple of hours previously just to drive around, until at around quarter to five the person who hired him told him to stop on the Coronado bridge. Mr. Obenauer did so. When he did, the occupant handed him a note, gave him $1,000 in cash, and before Mr. Obenauer could do anything, he jumped." Deputy Leo came up to whisper something in Lamb's ear. "And the identity of the jumper has now been confirmed. It was 16-year old Cassidy Casablancas. who was a suspect in both a false imprisonment case and a rape case."

Dad and Logan and I looked at each other, unable to say a word.

Lamb was taking questions. "What did the note say?"

"Four words only," Lamb said. 'My name is Cassidy.'"