Chapter Two

End October 2018

Logan stares out at the ocean, the setting sun casting an orange-red glow across the water. He's been home eight days now, but he's still struggling to adjust back to normal life. Veronica's worried about him, but she doesn't know. She wasn't around when he went off the rails before, didn't see him when he was broken and suicidal, doesn't understand how he copes. When things get tough, he deals with them alone.

Granted, he's not broken or suicidal anymore, but the point is, Veronica's trying to make him talk, and that's not how he handles his personal crap. So, as shitty as he feels for shutting her out, he doesn't know what else to do. He needs time alone to sort through everything that's messing with his head.

"Hey." Veronica appears to his right, taking a seat beside him on the sand.

"Hey," he replies softly, keeping his gaze fixed on the waves, watching them crash onto the shore.

"You planning on coming inside anytime soon?" she asks.

He shrugs noncommittally and she gives a soft sigh.

"Well, you can't sit out here all night," she reasons. She places her feet flat on the sand and rests her forearms on her knees. "Dinner's waiting for you."

"Not hungry," he says, still looking out at the ocean.

"You need to eat, Logan." Her tone is gentle though he can hear the worry and tension behind it. "You've skipped dinner twice in the last three days."

He shrugs again. Can't help it if I'm not hungry.

"Okay, fine. You win." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her shake her head. "But if you won't eat dinner, will you at least walk along the beach with me? I could use some company."

"Sure." He nods slowly. "Okay."

Finally tearing his gaze from the horizon, he follows her as she stands and brushes sand from her jeans. She slides her arm in his and they start walking along the shore, neither speaking. It only takes a few moments for the silence to start bugging him, but he doesn't know how to break it.

In the end, it's Veronica who speaks up. "Look, I know you're going through something right now, and for whatever reason, you're not talking, but I want to help you, Logan."

"Veronica, I—" he starts, but she cuts him off.

"Look, if you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but at least talk to someone," she says. "Go see Dr. Ramirez."

Zoe Ramirez is Logan's Neptune-based therapist. He's been seeing her on and off for years—she's the one who helped him get back on his feet after rehab, the one who suggested he join the Navy and helped him get accepted to OCS. He hasn't been to see her much in the last couple years, but they've kept in touch when they can.

"Yeah." He nods. "I will."

"Thank you." She looks up at him with a small smile. "I hate seeing you like this and not knowing how to help."

"I know." Logan nods in acknowledgement. He's felt the same way about Veronica more than once before.

They continue walking in silence for a couple minutes, Logan mulling over her suggestion. He wasn't just saying it to placate her, he does plan to see Dr. Ramirez—he's been thinking about making an appointment anyway—but the concern in Veronica's tone tugs at something inside him, and he can't not speak up.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, disentangling his arm and slipping his hand in hers, squeezing gently. "For the last few days."

"It's okay."

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "No, it's not. I've been shutting you out."

"You don't need to explain," she says, though he knows it must be killing her not to pry.

If there's one thing that hasn't changed about Veronica in the last eleven years, it's that she absolutely hates being kept out of the loop. In fact, he's surprised she's held out this long. Barring the argument they had last week, she's actually been great about it since he got back, giving him his space, not pushing him, even though he knows she's dying to stick her nose in and find out what's wrong.

"I want to," he admits. "I'm just used to dealing with this stuff on my own. It's hard to talk about it."

"I understand." She nods. "But I'm here if you need to talk. No judgement, I promise."

"Thank you."

She brings their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles. The emotion that overcomes him in response to the tender gesture makes up his mind, and after a pause, he begins to talk.

"It was really intense on the ship," he says eventually, looking out over the expanse of beach before them. "Constant pressure, constant stress. You know what the political climate is like right now, how terrifying it is out there, and I was right in the middle of it. It was so much to deal with and I'm having trouble getting out of that mind-set."

"Logan…" Veronica links her fingers with his, squeezing lightly. "I'm sorry."

"You don't understand, Veronica," he says, struggling to keep his emotions in check, even as his voice cracks. "I was responsible for some of that terror and heartbreak… you know, the stuff you see on the news. I dropped bombs that might have killed innocent civilians. I could be responsible for their deaths, Veronica. And I have to live with that every day."

He keeps walking, looking straight ahead, trying to blink away the tears that are threatening to spill over, but Veronica tugs on his arm, forcing him to stop as she steps in front of him.

"Hey, stop," she says softly, lifting her free hand to his cheek, though he can't bring himself to look down at her. "It's not your fault, Logan. You were just doing your job."

He shakes his head, swallowing harshly. "I'm the one who aimed the missiles, who pushed the release button."

"Look at me, Logan," she says firmly, voice leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, he lowers his chin, gaze meeting hers. He expects to see disappointment, or even pity in her expression, but there's nothing but concern and resolve.

"Listen to me: you are not responsible, okay?" she tells him determinedly. "You were following orders. You don't even know if any of your weapons even hit civilians."

"Well, no," he concedes. "But—"

"No buts." She cuts him off, her thumb moving to brush across his lips. "Logan, you are amazing at your job, okay? I know you did your best to avoid unnecessary casualties out there. You're a good person, Logan—a great person—you risk your life to serve your country, and that makes you a hero."

He scoffs; he can't help it, old insecurities coming to the forefront. "Yeah, I'm a real hero."

Veronica frowns, watching him with worry. "What's brought all this on, huh? What happened to my confident, cocky, fighter-pilot husband?"

Her tone is teasing, only holding a hint of worry as she tries to lighten the mood. He gives a half-hearted smile in response.

"It's been a tough few months," he says, though he manages a more genuine smile now. "Some days, all I needed was my witty, sarcastic wife by my side, distracting me from all those deep, dark thoughts. But alas, she was here in California, thousands of miles away."

Her expression softens, a gentle smile gracing her features. "Alas, indeed. But I'm here now, ready and willing to distract you from anything you need me to."

He nods. "Thank you."

"You know what I think?" she says. He shakes his head. "I think we should go home, where I can distract you to your heart's content. What do you say to curling up on the sofa with Pony and watching a movie? Then after that we can share a hot bath, and spend the rest of the night curled up in bed; get all those maudlin thoughts out of your head."

Logan's tentative smile widens into a grin, his heart warming at her words. "I say that's a good idea."

"Come on, then," she takes his arm, leads him back towards their house. "Let's go."

End November 2018

It's been almost five weeks since Logan got home from deployment, but Veronica can't seem to stop touching him, if only to assure herself he's still here, that he's solid, and real. It's soft brushes of her hand against his when they're preparing breakfast; it's her hand resting on his back as she reaches across him for her toothbrush; it's wrapping her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne and never wanting to let go.

She can't get enough.

So, in the week after Thanksgiving, when the front door opens and closes, signalling Logan's return from work, she smiles, warmth spreading through her chest in anticipation of his touch. She's in the middle of sorting through boxes of Christmas decorations at the dining table, but her hands still when his arms come around her waist from behind and his lips press against the side of her neck. She leans back into the embrace eagerly, savouring his lean body pressing against hers.

Since he confided in her about the difficulties of his deployment, since he started seeing Dr. Ramirez again, they've actually been much closer than in a long time. Some evenings they just sit together in bed, Pony curled up between them, and share stories of their time apart. It's kind of therapeutic actually; it helps Logan work through his issues, while giving her a better insight into his life on the ship, and Veronica's doing the best she can to catch him up on life here in Neptune while he was gone. Not that they didn't talk and email during the deployment, but it was different then; they didn't exactly have the time or the internet connection for heart-to-hearts over Skype, and it just wasn't the same by email either.

"Hey." She smiles, tilting her neck to give him access. "You're home."

"I am."

"Just in time, too. You can help me with all this." She gestures to the tangle of tree lights on the other side of the dining table. "First task: unravelling those."

"Gee, thanks, Veronica." He rests his chin on her shoulder. "I come home after a long day at work, expecting my wife to have dinner on the table, and I get this instead."

Veronica gives a snort of amusement. "Hmm, no, you're thinking of a 1950's housewife. This, right here—" she points to herself "—is a modern working woman."

"Oh, yes, that's right." He tuts in disappointment. "I forgot."

She reaches up, pats his cheek. "Tell you what, I'll clear these off the table, and you can heat up last night's leftovers."

"Well, if I must." He gives a long-suffering sigh. "But I'm gonna have to shower first. I stink of jet fuel."

He kisses her cheek, hands briefly squeezing her waist, before he steps back and heads toward the hallway.

"Aww, but maybe I like the jet fuel smell," she tosses over her shoulder as she starts clearing the table.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" he responds, amusement colouring his tone.

Thirty minutes later, Logan has showered and changed, and dinner is on the table.

"Good day?" Veronica asks as they dig into chicken, potatoes and vegetables.

"Yeah." Logan nods, though he doesn't look at her, instead concentrating on the food in front of him. "Not bad."

Veronica frowns. Something's up. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" He still doesn't look up.

"The fact you're finding your broccoli more interesting than me," she says dryly. "Come on, spill."

He sighs, putting down his knife and fork and lifting his head to look at her.

"Okay, I have good news and bad news." He doesn't ask which she wants first, just forges ahead, "The good news is that I got the official confirmation: my shore rotation is definitely three years this time."

"Wow." Veronica breaks into a grin as she feels a small flip of excitement in her chest at that news. "That's great."

"Yeah, it is." His smile falters somewhat though, and Veronica remembers what else he said.

"And the bad news?" she prompts.

He exhales slowly and Veronica braces herself for it.

"I've been accepted onto the SFTI program." At her blank look, he adds, "Uh, the Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program. Also known as Top Gun."

"No shit!" Veronica's mouth drops open in surprise. "You're gonna be an actual Top Gun pilot?"

"Guess so." He shrugs, looking down at his plate again.

"That's amazing, Logan."

"Yeah." He looks up, smiling widely now, enthusiasm showing in his expression. "Yeah, it kind of is."

"I'm not seeing how this is bad news," she prompts.

"It means I'm not going to be stationed in San Diego anymore," he admits. "The SFTI program is in Nevada and then I'll be assigned to a reserve fighter squadron at Oceana for the rest of the shore rotation."

Veronica's fork falls to her plate with a clatter as she stares at him, dread filling her chest as she mentally recalls what she knows of NAS locations.

"Oceana… wait, that's the one in Virginia?"

"Yeah."

Veronica blinks. "As in, you're moving to Virginia?"

He nods sheepishly. "Uh huh."

"For three years?"

"Well, two-and-a-half by the time I get there."

"Same difference," she mutters, still trying comprehend the news. "When?"

"SFTI training starts in January and it lasts nine weeks… so I'll be assigned to Oceana sometime in March."

"Right…" she mutters faintly, his words still sinking in. "Well, okay, then."

"Veronica…"

She closes her eyes for a moment, collecting her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she opens them, looks right at Logan. "I guess we're moving to Virginia, then."

"Wait…" He frowns, looking confused. "You're okay with this?"

Veronica presses her lips together, internally screaming, Of course I'm not fucking okay with it! My life is here, in Neptune… I don't want to leave!

Aloud, however, she says, "Logan, you're my husband. We're in this together."

"Really?" He seems surprised.

"Well, I'm certainly not doing the long-distance thing again," she says, tone biting even as she tries to suppress it. "Not when you're home. Not for three fucking years."

Logan's shoulders slump in resignation. "You're upset."

She can't hold it in any longer. "Damn fucking right I'm upset, Logan. What right do they have to decide our futures, huh? To uproot our lives like this?"

"Veronica, it's not…" he says helplessly, seeming to struggle to form a suitable response. "They don't… I have to go where they need me."

Logan exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Look, you knew what you were signing up for when we got back together, when we got married." he says, "You knew this could happen."

Veronica sits back in her chair, defeated. He's right.

"I know. And I understand, I do," she tells him. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't like it either, Veronica," returns Logan, tone almost frustrated now. "If I could stay in Neptune, I would, but it doesn't work that way in the Navy. This is the life I chose, remember?"

"I know that." She sighs, still trying to get her head around this. "I'm not mad at you, Logan. I'm mad at the situation. But like you said: I knew what I was signing up for."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. It's not your fault." Veronica shakes her head, trying to dismiss the negative thoughts and focus on the positives. "Look, we've barely spent any time together since we got married. I'm not gonna spend the next three years only seeing you every few weeks. So, if you're posted to Virginia, then we move to Virginia. Together."

"Okay." A soft smile appears on his face as he reaches across the table, squeezing her hand in his. "Thank you."

"Yeah." She squeezes back, forcing a smile, hoping it will make her feel even a little bit enthusiastic about the prospect of moving to the other side of the country.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" asks Logan into the darkness of their room later that night.

"We're a family now; where you go, I go." murmurs Veronica, staring up at the ceiling, hands resting on her abdomen.

"But I mean, your life is here, much more than mine is," he says, from the same position beside her. "I come and go all the time, but your job, your dad, Mac, Wallace, they're all here… I don't want to take you away from them."

"I've left Neptune before," she says reasonably. "I spent nine years away."

"I know." He gives a sigh, like he thinks she's just saying what he wants to hear. "But you weren't happy. Not really."

At his morose tone, Veronica turns on her side, supporting her hand under her cheek as she faces him. Logan does the same, though she can only just make out his features in the dark.

"You're right, I wasn't," she admits. "But that was different, Logan. I wasn't happy because something was missing from my life… you were missing."

"Veronica…" Logan reaches out, runs his fingers along her cheek, then rests his palm against her skin.

"Look, I don't want to leave Neptune," she says softly. "In an ideal world, you wouldn't go anywhere and we would just stay here forever." She turns her head, kisses his palm. "But we don't live in an ideal world. You could be stationed anywhere and I have to accept that."

"I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to," he tells her solemnly.

"What I want is to be with you," she says firmly. "And if that means living in Virginia for a couple years, then I can accept that."

In the shadows, she can make out Logan's mouth curling into a smile. He leans forward, hand sliding to the back of her neck, and kisses her. She responds in kind.

"Thank you," he whispers softly, when he pulls back a little. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Veronica reaches up, runs her fingers through his hair. "The last few months without you were so hard, and I'm not gonna go through that again anytime soon, not when I don't have to. I refuse to."

"Me, too," he agrees. "And you know, if the situation was reversed, I would do the same."

"I know."

He leans in closer, nuzzles her nose, his hand sliding down her back and pulling her close, as his mouth meets hers once more. She moves willingly, her leg hooking over his as he rolls so she's lying beneath him. Her hands slide along his shoulders, down over his back, palms flat and fingers splayed, covering as much of his skin as she can, savouring his warmth. He travels down her body, hands pushing up her tank top, cupping her breasts, before sliding beneath the sheet and tugging her underwear down.

Veronica closes her eyes as he kisses and caresses and licks at her sensitive flesh until she's coming apart beneath his tongue. Her fingers comb through his hair, her breath quickening, sounding harsh in the quiet of the room as he expertly brings her to climax. God, she loves him so much, she thinks absently as waves of pleasure crash over her. She needs him, needs to have him close, doesn't ever want to let him go.

Before she has time to fully recover, he's sliding back up her body, reaching for protection, and then he's right there, sliding inside, movements focused and unhurried as he tenderly makes love to her like she's the most precious thing in the world. The sheer emotion of it brings tears to her eyes.

"So, what are you going to do?" asks Mac at work the next day.

"I don't know." Veronica gives a helpless shrug from the couch, where she's made herself comfortable, unable to concentrate on cases right now. "My life is here. Mars Investigations is here. I don't want to leave."

"But?" Mac prompts, seeming to sense her hesitation.

"But I love Logan," she says helplessly. "He's my husband and I need to be with him, I want us to live together for a change."

Veronica sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"God, Mac, it's hard enough doing the long-distance thing when he's deployed." She shakes her head. "I'm not willing to do it while he's home too. And it's not like he can leave the Navy; he still has almost three years of mandatory service left. Not that I'd want him to do that anyway."

It's true; as difficult as it is when he deploys, Logan's finally found a purpose in life, a career he's good at, a career he loves. She'd never forgive herself if she made him give it up for her.

"In that case, it sounds like you've already made up your mind," says Mac softly.

"Yeah. I think I have." Veronica nods. Mac's right. When it comes down to it, there's no debate here, not really. "I need to put our relationship first. I made the mistake of not doing that in the past and it only ended in tears."

Mac leans forward, crossing her arms on the desk. "I get it, you need to do what's best for you, and for your marriage. We'll all miss you like crazy here, but if you need to go to Virginia, then go. Life doesn't begin and end in Neptune, you know."

"I know. I mean, I've left before and survived." She leans back against the cushions, resting her hands over her stomach as she looks up at the ceiling. "I just gotta figure out what I'm going to do with myself for two-plus years in Virginia."

Mac frowns thoughtfully. "Well, you've got your full PI licence again now…."

"I do," Veronica confirms.

She'd completed the required 3,000 hours of PI work over two years a few months ago and had retaken the PI exam as soon as she could, this time matching her father's score of 97%.

"So, keep investigating," says Mac simply. "You could open up a PI agency on the East Coast."

"Yeah, maybe," she murmurs, mulling over the suggestion. It's not bad. "I'd have to check the PI licencing laws in Virginia, though."

It's a good idea, she has to admit, it's just that she's not sure she can see herself going it alone, being a PI without her father's support and advice or Mac's incredible computing skills… and without being in Neptune.