Free At Last

by Peregrine2

Alternate Universe: This is a sequel to The Adventures of Nancy and Joe. Logan takes a road trip with his aunt, Duncan fights for his life, and Veronica tries to help Logan put the last nail in Aaron's coffin. Completed.

3. All that we perceive

Title: Free at Last
Author: Peregrine
Characters: Logan, Duncan, Veronica, Aaron, Lester family.
Spoilers: Through Episode 22.
Rating: K+ for language and violence.
Word Count: 4672
Summary: This is a sequel to The Adventures of Nancy and Joe. Logan takes a trip of discovery that changes his life forever.
Disclaimer: Veronica Mars and all its characters belong to Rob Thomas and UPN.

Chapter Three: All that we perceive

All that we perceive
In every mystery
Who are we
What we see
I can't comprehend

Lyrics by Thievery Corporation

Logan

It's 4 in the morning, but I have to call Veronica…have to give her some kind of warning about Aaron. Her life could be in danger, and I won't be there to protect her. The only thing standing between her and my father is Keith Mars. That should reassure me, but it doesn't. The phone barely rings before she picks up. "Hey," she says softly.

"Hi. I've been meaning to call..."

Veronica cuts me off gently. "You don't have to explain. How's it going with Monique?"

I laugh. "It's…interesting."

She says, "It could be worse, right?"

"Sure. It could be my Dad riding herd on me."

Veronica sighs. "I know he's out of jail. Is that why you called?" She's trying to be brave, but her voice quavers slightly.

"Sort of. Are you OK?" I want to tell her that everything is going to be fine, even if it is a great big lie.

"Sure. Why?" She fooled me once when she turned evidence against me, but she can't fool me again. I've figured out her dodge 'em routine and it doesn't work anymore.

"You don't sound even close to fine. What's going on?"

Veronica hesitates and I know she's choosing her words carefully. "It's Duncan. He came over last night and made a pass at me."

A sharp pain throbs behind my right eye. Lost tribes in the Amazon could have seen this coming, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear. "And you let him down easy, right?"

"I…kissed him back, but it only lasted for a few seconds before I pushed him away."

Man, I have to rethink this total honesty crap. It really and truly blows. With a shaky laugh, I say, "Wow, that was fast work. I gotta give DK credit. He said everything was cool and the minute I leave town, he stabs me in the back."

"Duncan doesn't see it that way. He sees it as unfinished business."

I spent the last 18 months hoping he'd come of out his self-imposed doldrums, working overtime on my jackass routine to get some kind of reaction. And now that he's awake, I wish I could take it all back. "And how do you see it?"

"It's totally over," Veronica says emphatically.

"Does he believe that?"

"I think so."

The pain spreads to the back of my head and I pop a few Advil. "I wish I was there."

"I miss you too."

"Please be careful. You know how dangerous Aaron is, and your Dad can't be there every second to protect you."

"I will. Try not to worry." Easier said than done with a psycho on the loose. "I better go before my Dad catches me on the phone."

Their shoebox of an apartment doesn't have much privacy. "Call me later?"

"Sure. Bye, Logan."

"See ya." I click off the phone and look off into space. Veronica's not the only one in danger. My aunt is terrified for some reason, and I have to find out why. And if Dad gets on his high horse and tries to force me to come home, then this could get real ugly.

Logan

I hoist my backpack and trot down the stairs at double time. My obscenely yellow fugmobile is parked where I left it last night, unlocked and covered with a film of road dust that actually improves its appearance. When I start to lift the tailgate, I hear an indiscreet cough from behind me. I turn to see my tallish aunt framed in the doorway, smirk firmly in place. "Don't bother."

"What?" My mouth opens slightly in confusion.

Monique strides over to the middle bay and lifts the door. "We're taking the Camaro."

I know I should be pleased, but the thought of losing my wheels doesn't sit well with me. "Don't think so."

Her left eyebrow raises and she shakes her head at my temerity. "This is not open for debate."

The steel in her voice takes me by surprise, but it's not enough to make me stand down. "It's bad enough that I have to take this trip, but I'll be damned if I leave my car behind."

My sharp tone only makes her laugh. "How do you plan on paying your way? Did you think that I would foot the bill?"

That's exactly what I expected. "Yeah."

Her smile widens. "And they say I'm the delusional one."

I line my pockets with my fingers and throw her a wary glance. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly floating in dough."

She rolls her eyes. "Really? So you didn't steal the silver and break into Aaron's safe?"

My lips curve into a reluctant smile. "Thought I'd save that for the lawyers."

Monique's smile falls away. "Your truck is an attention magnet. Do you really want the press to stalk you at every turn?"

That never occurred to me. "No." Monique turns back toward the garage and I can't resist one last jab. "Think your hot rod's going to escape their radar?"

She stops in the shadows and her eyes probe mine for a second. "They won't be expecting it."

I watch her get behind the wheel and have to admit that the car's well-tuned purr sounds way more captivating than the XTerra's throaty growl. Monique stops the car and pops the trunk open. Her gear is already packed and I heave my bag next to a longish cylinder. "What the hell is that?" I ask idly.

"That's my apo." My face stays blank and she adds, "It's a telescope."

"What kind of stars did you have in mind?" I crack.

Monique shuts the trunk and hands over the keys. When I look at her in disbelief, she shrugs and says, "I'm tired."

"So how do I get out of here?"

She reaches into the back seat and shoves a battered atlas at me. "Knock yourself out."

I wrinkle my brow. "What direction?"

Monique shrugs. "Head east."

Wow, that really narrows it down. "What about lunch?"

She laughs. "You just ate."

"I'm a growing boy."

Her lips quirk slightly. "In which direction?"

I make a face and find a suitable destination on her crinkled map. "We can stop in Reno."

She pulls her hat down over her face. "Wake me when we get there."

With a bemused smile, I get behind the wheel and put the car into gear. As we move slowly up the driveway, Danni appears on the front porch and waves us off.

Duncan

I heard the news today, oh boy.

A Day in the Life, lyrics by Lennon/McCartney

Ah, this is the life. Sleeping until 10, bypassing my usual shower and shave, and stinking up Celeste's pristine kitchen with my hairy presence. I flop into a chair with the paper and some warmed over coffee and the TV droning in the background. My parents have gone out and life is good. After I get my fill of the comics and the sad fact that the Padres lost another home game, I start to fold up the paper and stop when I see a familiar face on the front page.

Aaron Echolls Out on Bail

Sepia tones fill my mind as I read that jubilant fans are celebrating their recent fund-raising victory. Faded yellow turns to black rage when I see Stella Rheinhart's name as Aaron's latest legal conquest. With a disgusted toss, I throw the paper aside and pick up the nearby handset.

Logan answers after three rings. "Is it true?" I ask crossly.

He snickers. "Wow, that Dale Carnegie training was totally lost on you, dude."

I'm not in the mood for snark. "Is Stella really stepping up to the plate?"

Logan mutters something out of earshot before coming back on the line. "It sure looks that way."

"Is Monique OK with this?"

"Yeah, she's totally overjoyed." He laughs uneasily and I hear a rush of road noise and a smattering of guttural French.

"Where are you right now?"

"Outside Reno. Want to join us for a few hands of Texas hold 'em? We'll even supply the iced tea."

My lips stretch into a tight smile that hurts my face. "I've moved on to the hard stuff."

He giggles. "Are you fucking kidding me? Drinking a pint of Cuervo is so minor league. You don't graduate until you finish a fifth of bourbon and can stand on your own. Call me when you get there."

Logan cuts off the call and I stare at the phone blankly. It takes me more than a minute to realize that he's pissed at me and another ten seconds to figure out why. Goddamned Veronica and her big mouth! This was between the two of us. She didn't have to drag Logan into it. But the rules of the game have changed, and I've clearly lost the playbook.

Veronica

Aaron made the 11:00 news and was this morning's headline. Celebrities are big business, and he's part of this town's bread and butter. Whenever someone has a big charity event, his name is always first on the list. Wonder if that will still be the case with Lilly's death on his hands. Oh, sure, you can add assault to that list, but since Dad and I are still alive and kicking ass, the public doesn't care about us.

My Dad is more worried than I am. He's fretting and pacing like a caged lion. Back and forth he goes, crossing the kitchen in ten easy steps and nearly hitting the wall with his frustration. Part of him wants to hand me a gun and another part wants to lock me away from all the bad guys. But he knows he can't have it both ways, and he has to get to work.

I personally think that Aaron will keep an extremely low profile until the trial erupts. Threatening anyone in the Mars family will cost him dearly. If Dad doesn't get him first, then Backup will definitely go for the throat.

Logan's call was both reassuring and unsettling. The part of me that remembers Harlequin romances and fluffy bunny slippers went all gooey over his protectiveness, but the private dick gene went into full alarm mode at the fear in his voice. Oh, he tried to hide it, but it was mixed in with the anger and angst.

I hate the fact that I hurt him, but I had to be honest. There's been too much deception, and it's not a good way to sustain a relationship. If this is going to work, then we have to be straight with each other. And then there's this thing with Duncan. It's like a hornet's nest. Should I hit it with a stick to see what happens or leave it totally alone? Because we're in this state of limbo between friend and not friend and it's driving me crazy. And at this point, can we even be friends after all that's happened?

There's also that stuff he said about Logan and his sketchpad. I never knew Logan could draw, and it only underscores how little I really know about my boyfriend. The fact that my naked image is sandwiched between Lilly scribbles and hangman games starring Mr. Daniels is beside the point. It's hardly on a par with his perverted, statutory rapist of a father. But it falls into the gray area of lying by omission, which is something that Logan excels at. If he wants his private little peep show, then he could at least clue me in.

The clock tells me that it's nearly time to show my face at the Neptune Food Bank, my latest and greatest hangout. If this is what Dad means about having fun and being a normal teenager, then he can keep it.

Aaron

Stella meets him at a coffee shop in the worst part of town. He waves her over impatiently and she hands him an envelope. "The warden asked me to give this to you."

Aaron stares down at his son's flowery handwriting and wonders if this is Logan's way of mocking him. His son had always been a little fey, but he'd always chocked that up to Hollywood. And since the boy had been wrapped around Lilly Kane from the moment they'd met, Aaron had never seriously considered that Logan might swing both ways. Now he just figures that it's one more way for his kid to piss him off. "Thanks." He shoves the envelope in his briefcase and asks, "Do we have a court date?"

"The trial is set for early October. It's an open and shut case. You have nothing to worry about."

She makes it sound so simple. "When can we get together to discuss strategy?"

Stella checks her Palm Pilot. "I can meet you next Friday in my office. Say, 10:00?"

He's paying her a lot of money to represent him. The least she could do is meet on his turf. "Tell you what, Stella. We'll meet here at that time. Deal?"

Her nose wrinkles like she smells something foul. "Very well." Stella pushes back her chair and exits without another word. As he watches her waddle to her silver Benz, he starts to think that she's more trouble than she's worth. And even worse, she completely ignored his Oscar-worthy transformation.

Aaron's dark hair is long gone and replaced by a buzz cut with blonde streaks. Cheap sunglasses litter his face and a backwards Padres cap covers the blight on his head. His clothes are WalMart worthy and his rental car is a mid-90s Taurus with a bad muffler. He now lives at a roach motel that is a step down from the Camelot and spends his mornings parked at the local Krispy Kreme. People come and go and no one spares him a second glance. It's the best disguise of his life and it's making him absolutely miserable.

He views this as a temporary blip in an otherwise perfect life. His wife is gone and he can start living again. If he wants to chase skirts, there is no one to chastise him. And if he wants to fuck teenage bimbos, he can do that too. They kiss his lily-white ass, and it's all that he deserves. The irony of that term isn't lost on him and he smiles at the thought of Jake Kane's daughter going down on him, surrounding him with her amazing mouth and chasing away all rational thought. Aaron doesn't regret his actions and would do her again if he had the chance.

Aaron knows he should be on top of the world right now. His fans are behind him and he's stolen the Lester family lawyer from Lynn's crazy sister. It's only a matter of time before he triumphs over the Kanes and regains his rightful status as the king of Neptune. And anyone who doesn't see it that way will get run over. Trouble is, there are more than a few people who want to take him down, and they aren't pushovers.

He laughs to himself at the thought of his son running off with Monique. Does Logan honestly think he can escape the hell that is reserved for him when Aaron catches up with him? Does he really believe that Dave Lester and his clan can withstand the wrath of Aaron Echolls? With a disgusted snort, he finishes off his coffee and leans back against the wall.

His ungrateful son has never appreciated the sacrifices he's made to give him a better life. All he ever did was whine about Aaron being away on location for months at a time. Couldn't he see that Aaron was no different than the average Joe who worked double shifts at the factory? Why didn't Logan see that? He'd never had to work for anything in his life.

Aaron twists his coffee stirrer between his fingers as he recalls his last real conversation with his son. It was the day he'd attempted to make crab cakes and been caught short by his son's revelations about allergies and an elusive birthday. Logan's words had stabbed him with unwelcome guilt and he'd nearly taken his arm off when that familiar rush of anger replaced the calm he'd tried to erect after Lynn's suicide. He even remembers the words he threw back in Logan's face.

I'm committed to this family, Logan. I'm committed to you. You'll see that.

Doesn't Logan get it? There is nothing he won't do for his family. Lilly was a two-timing tramp that deserved to die. Aaron had done his kid a favor by removing Lilly from his life. Hell, he'd even gone one step further when he found Logan's letter in Lilly's car after desperately searching for the tapes. The letter was dated on the morning of Lilly's murder and placed Logan in Neptune at a time when he was allegedly in TJ. Since the two of them had been publicly on the outs, it wouldn't have taken much for Keith Mars to swoop down on his boy and read him the riot act.

Nobody is going to take his family away from him. If he has to follow Monique D'Argent all the way out to Martha's Vineyard to get his son back, then so be it. With a sour face, he dumps his trash and spots yet another newspaper kiosk with Lilly Kane's face smirking out at him. Death may have taken her away from her loved ones, but she is still ruining his life.

Logan

I'm cruising on Route 80 in a wet dream of a car. A beautiful girl is riding shotgun…don't I fucking wish. That's the way it always is in the movies. It's never about the poor little rich kid with the bipolar aunt whose snores compete with Rage Against the Machine cranked to Spinal Tap volume. And it never reveals that the shotgun is stashed away in the trunk with her photo gear and a smallish valise, or that my own stuff is competing for space with a telescope (sorry, an apo) and a tripod that defies description. No, the guy on the screen always gets the girl and never has to compete with his best friend. He's always the coolest dude in school and has the kind of family that makes your teeth ache.

Duncan has the nerve to call me and complain about Aaron. Like it's my fault that some stupid judge cut him loose. Everyone knows that the justice system is totally fucked. It appears that DK wants to shoot the breeze, but I'm so not in the mood, so I give him shit about his minor league drinking. Yeah, I know he's suffering too, but I just can't deal right now. The call leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth and I turn my phone off completely.

We approach the city and I nudge Monique with my elbow. She grumbles and swats at me with her hand. "Wha--?"

"Wake up," I say shrilly.

She grimaces at my tone. "Drive to Harrah's and ask for Bruno. He'll watch the car while we hit the tables."

The name sets me off and I nearly choke with laughter. "You think I have a death wish?"

Monique favors me with an eye roll. "Take Exit 13."

"Wow, lucky 13 and Bruno the knuckle-dragger. My day is really looking up."

"Take the next turn." A faint smile ghosts across her lips and is gone before I can call her on it.

Harrah's is only a few twists and turns away and we are suddenly there. I skid to a stop and nearly take out a group of geriatrics that appears from inside a blue cloud of bus exhaust. "Fuck," I say as an old crone hits the car with her umbrella and glares at the two of us. Before she moves out of earshot, I swear that she calls me an asshole in some Slavic sounding language. "I suppose I deserved that."

Monique shrugs like it's no big deal. "Let's roll." She hops over the door and folds herself into a genteel bow as a dapper little man with long sideburns and a pencil thin mustache moves in our direction.

"Where's the gorilla?" I snap my gum and look around in feigned boredom.

They both look at me like I've lost my mind. "Bruno, this is my nephew Logan."

He takes my hand and flashes his pearly whites at me. I nearly gag when he flutters his eyelashes and runs his finger across the top of my hand. The keys fall to the ground and we both stoop at the same time, clacking our thick skulls together on the way down and rearranging our limbs as we re-establish our equilibrium. Bruno dares to lay a hand on my arm to steady me and I throw his fingers off like he's given me a major case of the cooties. "Get the fuck away from me, you freak," I snarl, reverting to my jackass ways in one easy step.

Aaron would have ripped me a new one for such a display, but Monique only whispers an apology to Bruno and rabbits toward the main entrance. She's halfway through the lobby before I catch up and by then, she's muttering something about needing a fix and ditching me in a dark alley. I move in front of her and grunt, "I'm sorry, OK?"

"Whatever." Monique spots the approaching security guards and pulls her ID from her pocket. She hands it to the first no-neck and motions for me to cooperate with the second dude. With studied casualness, I pull out my wallet and flash a grin when he hands it back without giving me another look. When they're out of earshot, she asks, "You ready to lose big?"

I have twenty bucks to my name and I'm not about to spend my day cranking quarters into a one-armed bandit while some old lady hits the jackpot. "I'll be in the bar," I say with a grin.

She shakes her head. "You're coming with me."

My snort turns a few heads. "No way."

Monique doesn't give me a second chance. With a shove, she propels me away from the tantalizing beer signs and strong-arms me into place at her side. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

We arrive at the blackjack table and I intone, "And if I say no, you gonna beat me up?"

Her face pales and her hand drops quickly to her side. "I'll leave that to Aaron when he catches up to us." Her voice shakes slightly as she exchanges a small fortune for a towering pile of chips. With a jaunty smile, Monique says, "Now watch how it's done."

Veronica

I look around the room and manage to smile as I dish out breakfast to a long line of sorry souls. This is not my chosen form of penance. It's a rather cold reminder that I'm only one step away from ending up just like them. Perhaps that was my father's intent. The morning starts to wind down and as I start to take off my apron, I spot Becky James in a huddle with one of the directors. And there's no way to get past her, because she's practically camped out at the front door. I move casually past the tureens and smile at a few last minute stragglers and am right on the threshold when she calls my name.

"Veronica, wait up."

I stiffen at her approach and turn with crossed arms. "Yeah?"

"How are you?" Her liquid eyes are filled with concern and I instantly feel like a total shit.

"OK."

"You know, that offer still stands." Her sweater tightens enough to accentuate her already spectacular curves and I instantly hate her for looking like a fashion model and capturing my Dad's heart. If not for me, they would be together now.

"What offer would that be?" I ask sweetly.

Miss James sees right through me to the damaged little girl that hides beneath the shiny veneer. "My office is right around the corner at #10. I have time right now if you want to chat."

My trusty watch tells me that it's time to exit stage left. "Thanks, but I kind of promised my Dad that I'd track someone down."

Her smile slips slightly at my obvious lie. "Of course. Maybe some other time."

It's easy to nod and smile like a trained monkey. "Sure."

She watches me race to my car and waves as I tear out of the parking lot, swerving slightly to avoid a creepy looking homeless guy with a twisted baseball cap that hovers over his lowering brow. It's only when I stop at the traffic light that I realize he reminds me of someone. I look over my shoulder, but the bum has disappeared and I soon put him out of my mind.

Aaron

Aaron is inordinately pleased with his masquerade. Maybe he isn't the Master of Disguise, but he's managed to fool Veronica Mars. Because he knows she saw him and immediately registered him as lower than pond scum. And that works to his advantage. Everybody is used to his deep pockets, but nobody will expect Aaron Echolls to show up in the bread line.

He joins the unwashed masses and tries not to gag at the sour miasma of unwashed bodies on parade. The overly cheerful lunch aides ladle up some gloppy looking stew and cover it with gravy. The grayish-brown grease shines up at him and his gizzard does a back handspring at the thought of letting it touch his lips. With a clatter, he plops down at the far end of a table and sweeps off his hat. His nimble fingers find the fork and he starts scarfing up the grog without stopping to taste it. He knows if he stops to think about any of this, the rage will overtake him, and that is something he can't afford right now.

Aaron lurches to his feet and discards his trash. He keeps his eyes glued to the ground and shuffles drunkenly to the sidewalk, using the technique he perfected in Breakpoint. It works so well that the regulars give him a wide berth and let him go about his business. He almost makes it to the street when he hears a female voice call after him. "Excuse me, sir. I think you forgot your hat."

He turns and is startled by the sight of Rebecca James trotting after him. She stops at a safe distance and offers his baseball cap with a wary smile. "Is this yours?"

His response is slurred by imaginary drink. "Sure is. Thanks, little lady," he drawls, affecting a down and out Southern accent that he stole from Jackie Gleason.

Her features freeze and her mouth hovers between a grimace and a grin. "You're welcome."

She cocks her head slightly and asks, "Is this your first time here?"

"Yes'm."

"You sure? Because you seem awfully familiar." Her intelligent eyes crinkle up and he decides it's time to beat a hasty exit.

Aaron belches and almost laughs when she backs away with a moue of disgust. "Damned sure. Now if you don't mind, I have an appointment with Jack Daniels." He whirls and nearly makes first contact with the concrete as he totters away with the convincing shamble of the terminal drunk.