We are now on the approach path for "Weapons of Class Destruction." Please make sure your tray tables are in an upright and locked position.

This is a bit of an interim chapter. But I think Veronica's entitled to a chapter or two where all manner of hell does not, in fact, break out. But pay careful attention to something that doesn't happen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Veronica Mars. I do not like green eggs and ham. (I'm a vegetarian.)

X X X X X

"So you think the script which I've spent the last three months is crap?" Trina asked.

In for a penny, in for a pound. "Yes, I do, Trina."

"See, that's what I like about you, Veronica," Trina said. "You'll tell me what you really think. So I'm guessing that the night this on you'll be watching Crossing Jordan, huh? Oh well. Plenty of other viewers out there."

"Oh, come now, Trina," Logan said. "You haven't given me a chance yet. I think it's twice as crappy as Veronica does."

"Yeah, but you'd tell me that even if it was the next Gone with the Wind."

"Trust me," Logan said, "The only way this gets mentioned in the same breath as Gone with the Wind is 'Trina Echolls' script makes Billy Madison look like Gone with the Wind."

"Oh, you," Trina said. "Anyway, I actually didn't bring it here for critiquing." Good, because it doesn't look like you're poised to listen. "I brought here to give you all the good news, and to ask you a favor, Lynn."

We all put down the scripts and looked at her. "Go ahead," Lynn said.

"The good news is that I've already sold the script -- it's going to be a TV-movie. We've already even got a star attached! You know Harry Hamlin? He was in some show from the '80s called LA Lawyers, or something. He's actually signed on to play Dad." If Harry Hamlin was a star, Dad was a world-renowned consulting detective.

"It's not like he's been getting much else work recently," Lynn said. "And the show was called LA Law."

"Law, lawyers, same thing," Trina said.

"And the favor, Trina?" Lynn asked.

"For the other casting, well, I've already signed on to play me."

"Of course," Logan said, "Who else but the person who played murder victim #3 in last week's SVU could handle such a daunting task?"

"And the favor, Trina?" Lynn repeated.

"Since I'm playing me, I'd like you to play you."

"What?" Logan and I asked in unison.

"No, no," Trina said. "Hear me out."

"I'm listening," Lynn said, as Logan and I exchanged looks.

Trina smiled the smile of the self-confident. "I mean, you have to know there are like, half a dozen people out there scrambling to write books or do movies on Dad and his life, right? So why would mine have an edge? I mean, sure, I could play myself, but what would make it better? Lynn Echolls playing Lynn Echolls. Think about it: Instead of watching some actress botch the job on what it was like to be you -- I mean, have you seen that Three's Company movie? I would have made a better Suzanne Somers than that woman would --"

"I agree," Logan said unexpectedly. "Kind of sad for her, though."

"Instead of watching that happen," Trina said buoyantly, "You can do it yourself and make sure we're getting it right. The authentic emotion of when you fell in love. The heartbreak as you watched him die. And everything in between."

"Including the many affairs?"

"I hardly think a couple of women is 'many,' Veronica. They'll be mentioned as humanizing incidents in a great man's life. Anyway, how about it, Lynn?"

I almost felt sorry for Trina. She was so very confident. And she was about to be so very disappointed.

"You should know," Lynn began, "That I'm writing a book about the relationship Aaron and I had."

Trina grinned. "That's perfect! We can time them to come out together and everything!" I really kind of doubted that.

"You know I just shot a part on The Closer," Lynn said. Trina nodded. "Good. Well, since that came out in the trades I've been getting some more offers. There are a lot of people who want to direct or write the movie where I make my big comeback in a starring role. My agent's already received a couple of dozen scripts." Trina seemed confused. "One of those scripts," Lynn went on, "Would have me as the warden of a women's prison. I would fall in love with one of my inmates and arrange for her escape. In between chase scenes there would be torrid, almost too-raunchy-for-R lesbian sex." Lynn laughed. "The script looks as though it were originally written in crayon and transcribed into a computer by someone who doesn't know English very well. The person who wrote it knows nothing about prisons, lesbians, sex, or women. Though they do seem to have a disturbing knowledge of handcuffs. I could likely get my salary in rolls of quarters and be able to carry the entire thing out in my purse. And do you know what, Trina?"

"What?"

"I would sooner do that movie than yours."

Trina just sat there open-mouthed while Logan burst out laughing.

"Not only that, Trina," Lynn said. "I would sooner do any movie than yours. Don't take it personally. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the subject of your film. I will not make that bastard look good."

"But, but --"

"He had dozens of affairs, Trina. Not just a couple," I said.

"I'm surprised you'd believe everything you read in the tabloids, Veronica."

"I don't believe anything I read in the tabloids. I have --" I stopped myself. "Other sources."

"And let's not forget the trivial fact that he beat me on a regular basis," Logan said. "I notice a disturbing lack of abuse in your script. Except for abuse of the English language. And common sense. And the facts. But since when have you ever let that stand in your way?"

Trina gathered up the scripts and said, "Fine. I'll just go get someone else to do it, then." After a second, "But I can still stay here, right?"

As Logan rolled his eyes, Lynn clapped her hands and said, "Of course, Trina! You're family, after all. There will always be a place for you here." Then her voice grew a touch of steel. "Unless you bring me another script like that again."

"I'll be in my room," she said sulkily as she left.

"Actually, I'm staying in that one," I said.

"Veronica's right, Trina," Lynn said. "Take the second guest bedroom."

After she was out of earshot I said, "And we didn't even tell her that you think Aaron killed Lilly Kane."

"I think she would have keeled over on the spot," Logan said. Then he stood up. "I think I'll go tell her now."

"Sit down, Logan," Lynn and I said together.

X X X X X

That night, Dad called. "Success!"

"Like there was any doubt."

"I'll be flying out in an hour. How are things going there?"

I mentioned the lowered number of reporters and the return of Trina Echolls. "Sounds good," he said. "The decline in reporters, I mean. Not Trina."

"Be nice, Dad," I said. "Trina doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. She's terminally clueless and is the queen of self-promotion, but she's not actually evil

"How's Backup doing?"

"He loves the Echolls' huge backyard. I think he's been spoiled for good."

"Well, he won't have too much longer to get spoiled. I'm thinking maybe tomorrow we can move back home."

"Good."

"You don't like being under the same roof as your boyfriend?"

Hello, landmine. "Why no, Dad. I love the fact that Logan and I can now work our way through the Kama Sutra without feeling rushed."

"Funny, Veronica."

"Seriously dad, I love that Lynn Echolls was willing to do this for us and it's a nice place . . . but it's not home."

"Are you saying you'd rather live in a two-room apartment than a mansion?"

"When it's our two-room apartment and someone else's mansion, yeah."

"Me too."

Logan and I didn't get to work our way through the Kama Sutra that night, but with Trina and Lynn both having vacated the premises for a couple of hours we did get to exercise a certain amount of sexual inventiveness. To be polite to Lynn, though, we restricted our inventiveness to the bed I was using, and Logan's bed.

But Logan can get amazingly inventive.

Of course, if what he was screaming was any indication, I wasn't doing too badly myself . . .

We were long since done by the time Dad got back, of course. We were sitting around a table, reading a heisted copy of Trina's script and alternately laughing and cursing.

X X X X X

That night, I dreamed of Lilly again.

She was sitting on the edge of Trina's bed. "Was I ever in here?" she asked.

"How would I know?" I asked.

"Well, you can just investigate, can't you?" She flipped her hair. "I mean, maybe if I paid you you could find out for me."

"I wish you could, Lilly," I said.

"My money's just as good as everyone else's, Veronica Mars. No. Better. Because it comes from my fabulous self."

"I see you're still walking the Earth, Lilly."

"Well, my shade hasn't been avenged yet, silly!" She lay down next to me and giggled.

"It probably never will be," I said. "Anyway, didn't you once tell me that I might just have to be satisfied with knowing that Aaron Echolls did it?"

"Oh, Veronica, Veronica, you should know that I'm always right. I was right then, and I'm right now."

"I wish you were still here right now, Lilly. I miss you."

"Do you really?"

"Miss you? Of course."

"No, sweetie. I miss you too. But look at who you are now and who you were then. Would you want to become that you again?"

"If it meant having you back, yes."

"I wouldn't," Lilly said. "I like you just the way you are. Don't go changing to try and please me . . ."

"Arrgh!" I said. "Make it stop! You never could sing, Lilly."

'Don't be silly, Veronica. I sing like an angel."

And all I could think when I woke up was that I'd make that trade. I'd make that trade in a second . . .

X X X X X

The next morning, Dad and I packed up, thanked the Echolls (minus the surly Trina, who was still sleeping it off), and left. We took Dad's car; Logan was going to follow us over in about fifteen minutes and I was going to pick up the LeBaron that day after school.

"I think we should see Mom again today," I said. "I mean, if we're there there's always a chance --"

"Sure, Veronica," he said. "Good idea."

"It's just -- I don't want her thinking we've forgotten about her, you know? Because we haven't."

"No. We haven't."

There was something a bit off about his answers -- not that he didn't mean them, but that he wished he could say something else as well. I had no idea what that would be.

School that day was a bit weird. Not that there were any reporters -- they finally seemed to have found something more interesting to do -- but we had not only an insufferably perky new newspaper advisor, Ms. Stafford, but also the third fire drill in three days.

She suggested that that might make a good story.

Yeah. Right.