A/N: Back in 2004 now, Mac's POV. Thank you so much for all the follows, favorites & of course reviews! I appreciate you taking the time to continue to read this twisty AU version of what could have been for Mac and MaDi, also, I love hearing all your thoughts & opinions. Reviews really do keep me motivated, just sayin'! Huge thanks to my diligent & patient beta-cainc3! Enjoy!

Obligatory Disclaimer: It's probably obvious by now, but I still don't own a THING in the VM universe. A big thank you to Rob Thomas & the gang for letting me play in it though. I promise to return all characters in their original, pristine condition-eventually!

Chapter 12—Islands

Captain's Log star date 58372.7

Mac woke up on the Saturday after Thanksgiving heavy with the awareness she was now three weeks into this strange, new dimension that was a fun house mirror version of her old life—distorted and backwards.

Three weeks was almost a month, and she had no clue how long she would continue to live in this limbo land.

At least she'd survived her first Sinclair holiday—barely—but still, she chalked that down to a win!

It probably would have been a good day if her mom had not invited Dick Casablancas. Actually, that wasn't a fair statement. There was a part of her that was glad he was there with her, though of course he was ignorant of the circumstances of her new normal but, still, "uncomplicated" Dick was a good person to be around when your life was a study in complexity. He made her laugh, in this dimension, and her "real" one, too.

No, things only turned to shit when he darkened the Sinclair doorstep with Cassidy in tow. She'd cried herself to sleep that night, reliving the nightmarish events of graduation night, which was the last night Cass was alive. Seeing him very much alive and talking to her baby sister, in this reality, made her stomach churn with nausea and fear. She had to fight the urge to drop Lauren in a decontamination shower—on second thought, make that a decon bath-to keep him from infecting her innocent sister, like his madness had done to her.

The internal war being waged deep inside was the anger and pain from what he did to her, and Veronica, vs. her desire for a re-do, a new chance to save her classmates. She was no closer to deciding on a course of action. She didn't even know if anything she did in this life would ripple its way into her original dimension. Maybe the whole idea that she could affect change was just cosmic bullshit, the whole universe gut laughing over her stupidity.

It probably was.

The question remained, however, did she try anyway?

If she decided to go for it, the bitch of it was she needed to plough through the mental scars Cassidy left her and make an effort to connect with him in this time period. A friend, if there was one thing that lost boy needed, it was a friend.

Reluctantly, Mac extracted herself from the warm nest of blankets. Yesterday she'd been able to beg off the traditional post-Thanksgiving shopping binge known as Black Friday by claiming a migraine, she wouldn't be able to lay low today though, she knew. No, that would've earned her a one-way pass back to Dr. Stephenson.

She threw on a pair of designer jeans from the back of the massive closet, where she'd thrown them the night before, and then grabbed a purple tee shirt from one of the built in shelves. There was a maelstrom of clothes strewn everywhere, as was common the day before Lucille's self-proclaimed laundry day.

Next stop was the bathroom. She ran the brush through her long hair, giving it a few half-hearted licks. It was still jolting to look in the mirror and see the same long hair she'd had back in her first high school days. It was time to reapply some purple streaks, too, after Ellen had made her wash out the temporary dye before the big Thanksgiving feast. It was a shift from what she was used to, the part time freedom of self-expression allowed in the Sinclair household. Natalie, on the other hand, never seemed to object to her rotational rainbow of colored streaks that defined her high school self.

Fully dressed, Mac headed downstairs.

She followed the sound of the TV and found Lauren on the couch in the family room eating a bowl of cereal while watching Scooby Doo.

"Busted," she murmured into her sister's ear as she came up behind her and gently tapped her shoulder. Lauren jumped and a droplet of milk splashed up and landed on her fuzzy pajamas.

"Madi!" her tone indignant. "You almost got me grounded until prom."

"Sorry," Mac said, however the laughter in her tone was at odds with her words. She came around to the front of the couch and eased herself down, next to her sister. This time no milk droplets plotted an escape.

Lauren's glare deepened.

"Grounded until prom? I wasn't aware they had a seventh grade prom," Mac continued.

"No, I meant high school prom. Spilling anything on this couch is a serious crime," she explained.

"If you're so afraid of the wrath of mom, why do I keep finding you violating the rule?"

"One, it's stupid, two, I'm not afraid per se, I just would rather escape spending my glory days in this jailhouse."

"Glory days? You're eleven."

"Almost twelve."

"Whatever," Mac said dismissively. "Where is mom?"

"Returning half the things she bought yesterday at all those sales. My feet still hurt, by the way." Lauren had a slight whine in her voice. She propped her feet up on the coffee table in front of her to really sell it.

"You could have stayed home with me," Mac reminded her.

"Now you tell me," she grumped. "No, I thought you'd be going so I promised to go as well, then you backed out and I didn't want to upset mom by doing that, too."

She closed her eyes at that, hoping to block the inevitable guilt from coming to the surface. That plan utterly failed.

"I have a couple errands to run," Mac said, a few minutes later. "How about I make my defection up to you by taking you with me?"

"How does that make anything up to me?" Lauren enquired. "Besides, my feet hurt, remember."

"I'll buy you a hot chocolate at Java," Mac replied to the second comment, ignoring the first statement.

"Sold," Lauren said. She looked happy at the prospect of spending time with her older sister despite the initial token protest.

They got rid of all evidence of Lauren's breakfast rebellion. As they prepared to leave, Mac grabbed a handful of leftover cinna-melt cookies and poured some coffee into a to-go cup.

Taking her now battle-scarred car, they headed towards downtown Neptune.

Mac found a space in front of Comp-U-Stop, and locked up, and then she and Lauren headed in.

The door chimed their arrival.

"Hi Dave," Mac automatically greeted the lanky, bespectacled guy of indeterminate age working behind the register.

He smiled at her, but she could tell he had no clue who she was. She obviously wasn't a regular here like she was in her Mac-life.

Damnit, she mentally berated herself, habit got her every time. She needed to make some kind of cheat sheet to keep track of who she knew in what existence, and for those overlapping cases, what role she played in each life. As surreal as her life was these days, it was still a comfort to collide both of her lives together whenever possible.

Lauren wandered over to the book wall, while Mac started looking at the storage devices and expansion packs.

"Let me know if I can help you find something," Dave said a couple minutes later. He didn't leave his perch behind the counter. Mac knew he wasn't being unfriendly; he was just really shy around people he didn't know. It was a surreal kind of realization because, in her Mac life, they got along great despite his contempt for all things Apple. She decided to have a little fun with that insider piece of knowledge.

"Is this it? You don't have any more wireless cards, or dongles, specifically for Mac's? Maybe I should go to Computer Mart." Mac replied, and then bit her lip to keep from laughing. She didn't dare turn around and look at him. She could just picture him trying, and failing, to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

The truth was, even with Comp-U-Stop's bare bones selection of Apple MacIntosh ("Mac") accessories, she much preferred this little ramshackle mom-pop type of computer store to the big box, sterile, mass-appeal of Computer Mart. Sam had instilled in her an appreciation for independent stores and restaurants. It had taken years before Mac realized that his support for local business was driven primarily by his own short lived experience as a small business owner. He'd started, and sub-sequentially lost, Fun Time Motors when Mac was very young. It was still a big part of his life, since after losing the company; the new owners still retained him as a salesman.

"That's a great idea, if you enjoy paying a 75% mark up, and maybe you'll get one additional brand to choose from, also with high mark ups," Dave said. "If you have money to burn, then I highly recommend Computer Mart." He didn't hide his distaste or his sarcasm—a language Mac both spoke and respected.

She smirked, but not in his sightline. She knew him well-enough to know he was getting pissed yet trying hard not show she'd hit his "hot button" issue. After all, pissing off customers wasn't a good business practice.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lauren still looking in the books section; she had a book in each hand and was studying them both carefully like she couldn't decide which one to select.

Mac came up behind her to take a peek at the titles she was considering. One was a detailed history of computers, and the other was basically a hacking for Dummies type book.

"You can't go wrong with either book," Mac said.

"I was just going to say the opposite—I can't go right with either title," Lauren turned around, saying it with a straight face. Mac assumed she had to be joking though; they were both wonderful additions to any library.

Ignoring that last line, Mac went back to choosing what she needed to keep her network of computers running at optimum speed. She paid for her purchases and made nice with Dave again. It seemed to be a successful mission based on the friendly ribbing he gave her about the OS-X operating system as he took her money. Mac countered by defending its simplicity.

With a better wireless card and more RAM checked off her to do list, Mac and Lauren left the Comp-U-Stop. Instead of going to the car, they turned left and headed toward Java the Hut. It was simpler to walk the two blocks than to drive and then find another parking spot.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining brightly, and despite being late November it was shaping up to be a warm day.

Mac looked over at her sister, walking beside her through the streets of downtown Neptune. Being a Saturday, and a holiday weekend to boot, the streets were not exactly bustling. She watched as Lauren peeked curiously into the store fronts as they passed.

A smile pushed to the surface as she remembered all the fantasies she'd had through the years of just spending time with Lauren. The day dreams were never elaborate, just little snippets of day-to-day life, only now she was living it, instead of just dreaming about it. It was a pinch me kind of moment for Mac.

They paused at the stop sign and turned right onto Main Street.

Mac held the door open and followed Lauren inside Java the Hut. The popular Neptune coffee shop held a lot of caffeinated memories for her. Back in high school Veronica had worked there on nights and weekends. It had become habit for Mac to visit her during her shift. It was during one of those visits that she'd first discovered soy chai lattes, which were still to this day her drink-of-choice.

They joined the short line of people waiting for their own coffee fix-jittery, fidgety people.

"Hot chocolate?" Mac enquired.

"That's my go-to," Lauren said.

"You have a go-to beverage choice?" Mac couldn't leave the skepticism out of her voice.

"Yep," Lauren affirmed, but didn't volunteer any more info than that.

However, when it was their turn Mac ordered a Venti soy chai latte for herself and had been just about ready to get Lauren's hot chocolate when she changed it last minute to another soy chai latte.

"What happened to your go-to drink?" Mac asked in a teasing voice as they stood off to the side while the barista made their drinks.

"Just broadening my beverage choices, I guess. Mom says it's good to try new things, plus if you like it, I'm sure I will. What is it, some frou-frou coffee thing, right?"

Mac laughed and ruffled her sister's hair. "You're funny. It's spiced tea and milk, no coffee."

Lauren made a face at the description of the thing she was about to drink, and Mac's laugh deepened.

"Is it too late to change my…" she started to ask, when the counter guy announced Mac's name and put both drinks down.

"Yes, it's too late," Mac said, unnecessarily at that point. She grabbed both cups and led them to an available table by the window. "Just try it. If you don't like it, I'll finish yours and buy you a hot chocolate."

They sat down across from each other.

"Okay," Lauren conceded, pinching her nose with one hand and picking her cup up with her other hand. Tentatively she put the cup to her lips. She blew on it, and then took a small sip. She made a face at first, then tried another sip, and kept on drinking it.

"So?"

"It's alright."

"Just alright?"

"Yup."

Evidently, being a typical 'tweener', Lauren wasn't going to be lavish in her praise of chai Lattes, but the way she kept drinking it rendered that unnecessary anyway. Her actions did the talking for her.

Mac started asking Lauren about her classes, her friends, and what she wanted to be when she grew up. She was surprised to learn that her favorite teacher from Elementary school, Mrs. Winters, was currently a Science teacher in the Junior High, and was Lauren's favorite teacher, too. Mac also heard a lot about Brittany, a girl who had recently moved to Neptune from Ohio. As for dreams and ambitions, Lauren confessed she wanted to be a doctor or maybe a surgeon and 'cut people open and stuff.'

As she sipped her chai latte and listened to the excitement in Lauren's voice as she outlined her day by day activities, Mac studied her, trying to memorize every detail and nuance as though she could burn it to her memory.

It was Technicolor, it was real, and she wasn't ready for their 'sister bonding' day to end.

Lauren had moved on to a long story that explained how Brittany earned her newly-appointed BFF status, something to do with locating Pip, the missing class hamster. Mac wasn't clear on all the details, but Brittany sounded a little like a pint-sized Veronica with fewer trust issues. She wondered if Lauren would end up being the Watson to Brittany's Sherlock. History did have a lot of funny habits.

Just then, Mac's focus was diverted for a second by the ping of an incoming text. She was going to ignore it, but Lauren insisted she check. So at her sister's urging, she rifled through her small Coach clutch bag until she found her phone buried in the bottom. She flicked through the menu until she came to the message envelope. She read it and felt her face heat up, and evidently she smiled, too.

Dick: What color undies are you wearing?

As Lauren teased her about her grin and then started making kissing noises, Mac ignored her and sent a reply back to Dick's text.

Madi: I'm wearing a new kind of underwear, they're invisible. No lines.

Before she could even finish calculating how long it would take Dick to text her back, it pinged again.

Dick: Be right there.

She smiled again, probably an even bigger one this time. Of course, that wasn't possible, Dick was in Tahiti, or Bora-Bora ,or Turks and Caicos, some tropical rich-person Mecca, surfing and drinking Tequila shots, and probably getting even tanner than before.

Madi: I'm not at home.

He was quick with the trigger finger then, too.

Dick: Hot date?

Madi: Yup—a hot date with three hot guys. Jealous?

There was a longer pause between messages; Lauren continued to make kissy noises.

"So, what about you?" Mac asked her sister. "Any boyfriends?" She tried to be covert about checking the screen for another message from Dick. She failed miserably at it based on the smirk Lauren gave her before replying.

"Boys have cooties," she laughed. It was a deep throaty sound and was quickly becoming one of Mac's favorites. Then it died out, and her tone got serious. "There is one boy, he's okay. His name is Kyle. I think Brittany likes him though. I don't know."

"Did she tell you that?" Mac asked. She looked down at her phone, yet again, still nothing.

"Well, no," Lauren admitted, "but she keeps changing the subject when I try to talk about him."

"Ask her. You don't want to violate the friend code, but maybe you guys can come to an agreement if you talk about it. You don't want to pass up any chances with Kyle, either."

"How do you know?"

"I'm wise beyond my years," Mac replied, not biting back an ironic smile. The truth was oozing itself around that sentence.

Just then another ping emanated from her phone. Mac retrieved it and frowned slightly.

"Not Dick," Lauren stated rather than asked.

"Nope," Mac affirmed, but then one side of her lips quirked up into a half-smile as she read the message.

Jackson: Just say no to drugs evidently applies to the sanctity of my own room, too. Moms suck.

She wrote back:

Madi: You don't want to compare mom issues with me. What the hell did you do?

Jackson: I just smoked up one time. I think the maid is out to get me, tattling on me. Mom was majorly mad. It's my fucking room. Let's just say I won't be going to your party, or you know, see the light of day in years.

Madi: What?! Party?! I'm not having a party.

Her birthday was coming up in a few weeks, but no one had mentioned anything to her about a party. She remembered from her original high school days the infamous Sinclair bacchanalias to celebrate the birth of the 'Bitch Queen Bee' herself. She'd even crashed one that first year after learning the truth. Was that what Jackson was referring to? Oh hell no! She'd have to put the kibosh on that plan.

Jackson: Um, nothing. Never mind. My mistake. But the punishment doesn't fit my crime. I'll never see life on the outside again.

Mac smiled at his backpedaling.

Madi: Aw poor baby, stuck in your room with only your gaming system and computers for company. What inhumane imprisonment.

Her sarcasm was lost in the text, however.

Jackson: I know, right? What I need is leverage.

Madi: Leverage? Like blackmail?

Jackson: Yes, leverage, not blackmail though, such an ugly term.

Madi: I may know someone that can help you. We'll talk in class Monday. I've got to go now.

Jackson: Thanks, Mad, you're a lifesaver. Bye.

Madi: No prob! Over & out…

"Sorry L," Mac said as she put her phone back into her clutch. As she did that, she realized she'd never heard back from Dick. He must have gotten distracted, a common state for him, she reminded herself wryly.

"I don't mind. We haven't spent time like this in years, you're always so busy," Lauren said. She didn't look bothered by that, just resigned.

Mac felt guilty in a way that didn't make sense. She was only borrowing this life for the short-term, but she felt protective of this girl sitting across from her. She'd felt that way since the night she had crashed Madison's party.

The thought of having her own fete was Twilight Zone weird. Of course, that was a zone she'd been dwelling in for month now anyway, The thought of being the Sinclair in question for the annual "Fall rite of passage," Madison Sinclair's birthday party didn't exactly make her feel like doing a happy dance. She suspected Dick was a big part of the plans to keep that tradition alive this year. She'd have to work on that...

After finishing the remains of their drinks, Mac and Lauren threw out their trash and headed back to the car a block and a half away.

It wasn't until later that night that Mac heard back from Dick. She'd just got done having dinner and was up in her room to grab her Physics book when habit had her checking her phone.

She picked it up from its usual perching place by her bedside table and scrolled through the menu.

There was one missed message:

Dick: Sorry babe, got Beavered. Not as much fun as it sounds. He's off the ledge about something. Betina got him to shut the fuck up somehow. Aw, family. See ya Monday. No weaseling out of our date Friday—I own your cute ass fair square. Over & Out…

Mac fired off a quick reply even though it had been sent to her over an hour prior. She was a little more concerned than she cared to admit about his cryptic message, but she tamped it down.

Madi: Nothing fair or square about that bet, and you know it Casablancas. Don't overdose on family time. See your scrawny ass on Monday. Over & out…

***************Monday Morning, Neptune High********************

Mac found a parking spot in the '09'er lot—B—and slid Lucille's Honda into a space near the front. The Caddy was going to the shop to get the dent fixed.

She had just walked through the back entrance of Neptune High when Jackson accosted her.

"Dude, you need to help me. Who is this person you said you knew that could give me leverage on the 'rents?"

"Okay, first, I'm a dudette, not a dude," Mac corrected, smiling. "Second, my friend, Veronica works for her dad, he's a PI. They have access to data bases it would take me forever to, um, access." She always tried to be careful to whom she revealed the extent of her computer skills to, especially in this uncertain existence.

"Veronica, as in Veronica Mars?"

"That would the Veronica in question, yes." Mac said dryly.

"Since when did the two of you become friends?"

"Recently, but it's like we've always been friends. Look, join us at lunch and I'll make the introductions."

"Thanks, Mad. I owe you one."

"You owe me several, Jackson, and I will collect," Mac replied, lightly punching him on the arm.

After saying their good-byes, they went in opposite directions to their respective homerooms.

Dick was already there, half-asleep at his desk. He seemed to wake up a little when he saw Mac enter though.

"Too much partying?" Mac inquired as she flopped down at the desk beside him.

"Too much family time, apparently I OD'ed on it after all," Dick replied, sitting up.

The bell rang just then and Mrs. Murphy got the school day underway.

At lunch, Jackson found Mac sitting with Veronica and Wallace at their usual table out in the quad. He plopped down next to Mac.

"So, I hear you can dig up dirt on parents," he said to Veronica, getting down to business. He reached into his lunch bag and retrieved a turkey wrap out of it and took a big bite.

"What, no greetings and salutations?" Mac teased. She pushed the remains of her salad away, now full. They'd been sitting there eating and talking for about fifteen minutes before Jackson had joined them.

"Top of the morning to you all," Jackson backtracked, as soon as he finished swallowing the bite of his sandwich. "Now, can you help me Mars?"

"It's afternoon, actually."

"Top of the afternoon to you all," Jackson said. "Now, can you help?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Find leverage on my parents. They're very strict. I was smoking up in my room over break and they grounded me for two months."

"At least you're still walking," Wallace added. "Apparently you haven't spent time in my mom's house."

Jackson ignored that. "I can pay."

Veronica perked up at that. "Suddenly my schedule has cracked wide open. Are you sure you can handle what I uncover?"

"Just find me some proof that they aren't as perfect as they act like. I can handle the truth," Jackson said confidently. He continued to work on his sandwich as they worked out the terms of the arrangement.

Veronica asked Jackson to meet her in her office—first floor girl's bathroom—the following day before lunch. Then he got up to throw out his garbage before joining Dick's table for the rest of the lunch hour.

Mac brought up her Thanksgiving dinner from hell, leaving out the bigger bullet points of her meal of course. They all compared and contrasted their weekend until the bell rang.

Wallace went off in one direction, while Veronica and Mac walked off in the opposite one.

"You know, you could make a lot of money selling parental secrets," Mac suggested. "Charge double the fee that Jackson is paying."

"That's the friend of a friend rate, not everyone qualifies for that one anyway," Veronica said.

"I could buy the domain name; we can call it 'Dirt on Parents' or something more clever than that. We wouldn't have any overhead that way." Veronica shot her down once, however, maybe in this life they could make a go of it.

"Tempting, but I'm not sure I have enough time for school, helping dad, and everything else in my life as it is. I don't think I could handle anything more."

"Oh, yeah, I see that." Mac couldn't keep the disappointment from bleeding through though. Nope, no lucrative side business in this dimension either. Also, she'd hoped Veronica would look into the settlement terms she'd found in her bio dad's drawer the other day. She'd finally carved out some more snooping time the previous day, but had discovered the paperwork had been relocated and there hadn't been enough to time to scout out other locations.

"You okay? Is there something on your mind?" Veronica asked.

She always could read Mac perfectly, there never had been hiding things from her, why should things in this life be any different?

"Well, there's just one thing," Mac began. She paused for a moment, maybe some secrets followed her life to life, dimension to dimension.

"What?"

Mac took a deep breath. "Um, I found something weird the other day in one of my dad's desk drawers, a really big settlement, but I couldn't find the rest of the paperwork. I was hoping, maybe, you could look into it?"

"Sure. Text me your details tonight and I'll look it up when I'm working Jackson's case, too."

"Thank you." Mac suddenly felt relieved. "I can pay you."

"No, keep your money; consider it a referral bonus for sending Jackson my way."

"Thanks pal."

They came to a fork in the hallway, and parted. Mac headed to her math class, hoping she made the right decision. If there's one thing she'd learned from her Mac life, it was that some secrets could never be unlearned.

TBC…

***There will be lots of stuff to cover in the next chapter! Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading***