Duncan has made me a coffee and left it on the kitchen bench. He sits at the dining table, eating a bagel and reading the morning news. I can see his face plastered across the front page.

"Goodmorning Mayor," I sing-song and grab the coffee cup and curl up on the couch.

"They're saying it was a 12% margin."

"That's excellent!"

He huffs and shakes his head, "early estimates were 15, I'm going to have my work cut out next term, we're really going to have to nail this development."

"God Duncan, that's two years away, can't you just be happy for the win and do what you can for those two years?"

He picks up his plate, deposits it in the sink and starts to knot his tie.

"Dad thinks this should be my last term."

"What? Why?"

"He wants me to run for congress."

I almost spit out my coffee. "Congress!?"

He nods and slips his jacket over his shoulders.

"Wow, is that something you want, or Jake Kane wants?"

"I don't know Veronica, but maybe I've got to start thinking about something past this, past Neptune. I think I can do bigger, better things. I know things were different when we were trying for kids but, maybe, if we don't have that we can focus on this. Like a team effort?"

I stare back, mouth agape. Is he using my inability to conceive a child as an excuse to climb the political ladder because we don't have pesky kids in the way holding us back?

He can see his mistake and comes towards me, wrapping his arms around me. "Ignore me. I'm an idiot."

"Yes, yes you are."

Picking up his keys, he smiles at me, "What are you doing today, San Diego?"

I nod.

"Well, have fun. I'll try to be home at a reasonable hour," he kisses me on the cheek and heads out the door.

I go to the bedroom to get dressed. My meetings in San Diego are always set in glass-walled, architecturally inspired law offices, so I dress the part. I find a black mid-length dress with small cap sleeves which has a thin gold belt and pair it with some black pumps.

My phone vibrates.

6.47 am from Logan Echolls

Are you still heading to SD today?

6.48 am from Veronica Kane

Yep

6.48 am from Logan Echolls

Wanna Lift?

6.49am from Veronica Kane

?

6.49am from Logan Echolls

I've got some meetings there today.

6.50am from Veronica Kane

Sure, I don't know how long my day will be though. I don't want you waiting around for me.

6.50 am from Logan Echolls

I'm sure I will survive. I could go to the zoo, always wanted to go to SD zoo.

6.50am from Veronica Kane

Unsurprising. Be with your people.

6.51 am from Logan Echolls

Be there in 20?

6.51 am from Veronica Kane

Ok.

I put on my makeup, collect all the required documents, quickly wash the breakfast dishes and head down the stairs.

Logan is waiting in a black SUV with heavily tinted windows. He rolls down the window and dips his sunglasses at me. I roll my eyes, hopping inside.

"Is this the new wheels?"

He nods, hands me a coffee and points to a box of doughnuts on the center console.

"Wow, how's this for service! I feel like an '09er!" I gush in a preppy voice.

"And that is why you are not an '09er and never have been Ms. Mars. As if a '09er would ever be seen in a Ford! My days in that life are clearly over now!"

Logan is dressed much more casually than last night. Wearing a t-shirt with a blazer over the top, but still looking very well put together. I ponder when it was that Logan graduated from oversized orange pants to this. Fresh-faced and smiling, he pulls out into the traffic.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to catch up with you last night," I apologize. "I was stuck schmoozing with the boring people."

He chuckles, "yes, I could tell you were less than impressed."

"Oh God, was I that obvious? I try to hide it but after a few champagnes and as it gets later in the night I start to crack."

"It's okay. I only noticed because I know you. I know your faces, to the untrained eye it would have looked fine."

I take a sip of my coffee and smile because, of course, he remembers how I take it.

"I couldn't believe that Parker was there, did you know she was coming?"

I see his hands grip and re-grip more firmly on the steering wheel. His eyes stay trained on the road. "No, she knew that we would all be there, so I think she might have been trying to surprise us. It was fine. She sat with us for about an hour, we all reminisced about the college years."

"She still looks amazing."

He nods.

"Did you know she was working in Neptune."

"Nope."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Alright, enough of the interrogation Veronica," he's uncomfortable. I look out the window watching the traffic, the buildings pass by.

I decide to leave it. Pushing this line of questioning could only lead me to places I wasn't sure I wanted to go.

We drive in silence until he drops near the front door of the Mason, Ebb & Black Law Offices. I grab my briefcase.

"Call me when you're done, we can have a drink before we head home?"

"Sure," I nod and leave the car, watching him drive away.

The day was long, going through case by case of evidence that I'd been collating for the defense team. I didn't even notice I'd been subconsciously clock-watching until one of the partners asked me if I had somewhere I'd rather be.

The truth was, concentrating was hard when you knew at the end of the day a cold drink with Logan awaits.

I needed to stop. It wasn't healthy.

At 6.30, he picks me up and takes me to a local bar.

The bar is humming. People crammed into all the spaces. Hot and sticky, smelling of stale beer and grease. We'd hover around and hang close to a couple leaving. I hip-checked a group of guys as we practically storm into the small corner booth. Logan got us some drinks at the bar while I saved his seat with my feet, ordered some chili-cheese fries and darted back into his position.

"Sure you don't want to head over to Tijuana? I know some great bars there."

I roll my eyes, "I'm sure you do, not sure I'm willing to partake of that today. Last thing I need is to get drunk in Mexico with you in one of your favourite seedy joints with topless waitresses. I'll wake up in the morning with my organs harvested on a side street."

"You're no fun," he pouts, "but just to be clear, you are willing to get drunk with me here, on American soil?"

I nod and pick up my beer, "Yes, Sir," I salute and we clunk out beers together with a cheers.

Conversation flows. Beer flows. The music seems to get louder. The booth is small. His large frame seems folded into the chair, his long legs touching my seat. Occasionally I can feel his leg graze mine.

"Okay, I've got an idea."

"Shoot."

"Let's go fishing," he says, spreading his arms out with raised eyebrows.

"What? No way, I'm an old woman now. A married old woman. I'm not even sure I could fish anymore."

'Fishing' was a game we used to play, mainly in high school and college. When we were sitting at bars, bored, we would challenge each other to a fishing contest. We would set out, one at a time, watch timer ready to see who could get a phone number the quickest. The rules were, no rules. Everyone in the bar was fair game. If someone was extremely good looking, you got 20 seconds shaved off your time. Loser bought the winner a drink. Of course, Logan was the master at fishing. He was hard to beat in his day.

"Bullshit," he challenges, "you could fish with the best of them, you just go for older fish," he shrugs and I retaliate by leaning over the table and punching him in the arm.

"What was your best time again?"

"22 seconds," he puts the beer to his lips triumphantly.

"You were cheating that time."

He scoffs, affronted, "fair and square Miss Mars."

"How can someone even write their number in that amount of time? It makes no logical sense."

"It makes perfect sense, I went up to her, asked for her number, she took one look at me and handed it over."

I shook my head, "Only you would do that."

"You could do that, but you're too chicken…. And old."

I stood up and straightened my dress, pulling it down a little at the front smoothing my hair, "alright asshole, get your timer ready."

He obeyed and got out his phone. Hit START and I was off like a greyhound chasing a rabbit.

Remembering my wedding ring, I darted back to the table, pried it off my finger and slammed it onto the table.

"I don't think that would have been an issue," he smiles.

"I'm not taking any chances."

I scan the crowd in search of a victim. Packs of guys together generally were the easiest targets. Scan for wedding rings. I spot a man with a beard, mid-thirties. Standing against the wall with friends, beer in hand. He had a friendly smile. No wedding ring. Winner!

I steady myself, put on my sweetest smile and approach him.

"Excuse me, are you Steven?"

He looks around, confused. "No, I'm Matt," his friends chuckle.

"Oh sorry," I touched his arm apologetically, and lingered on his skin for a moment "I'm here with my friend, and I've been chatting to a guy on a dating app, Steven. He was supposed to meet me here at least an hour ago but, it looks like I've been stood up. Sorry, I guess I saw you and was hoping it might be you."

One of the hardest things I always found with fishing was knowing Logan was watching. It was a challenge enough not to laugh if we happened to make eye contact. Stay serious, hook the victim.

But he is there, in the booth in my peripheral vision. Arm casually slung over the top of the seat. Head turned towards me to watch. Even from across the room, I can feel his eyes on me, following me.

Focus, Veronica!

Matt was hooked; he was easy. He was so sad to hear about the bastard that stood me up. His friends seemed eager to push him towards me and pick up the slack that Steven had left. I left with a little hug and headed back to the table, hitting the stop timer on my return.

7:48

Not great.

"He was an easy target," Logan challenged.

"No way!"

"Yeah, the only guy in a group with no wedding ring, standing around looking desperate."

"Oh, he was not, he was nice!" I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince. I start to play with my wedding ring on the table but don't put it back on straight away.

"Fine. Your turn, show me how it's done and NO mentioning the fighter pilot thing! That's not fair."

Hand to his chest, shocked, "What? That's my hook, I've never been able to use it fishing before. I think I've earned it!"

"Sorry Mr. Echolls, you are no longer a fighter pilot so you can't use it, I will disqualify."

Logan stands and runs his fingers through his hair, "Fine, watch and learn." I set the timer on his phone, and he strides off. Long legs carrying him over to the bar.

He's taken off his blazer now, wearing only a close-fitting t-shirt underneath. His body leans up against the bar as he orders a drink from the bartender. I remember this move. He likes to approach his victim with a drink in hand as an icebreaker. Unfortunate victim, she doesn't stand a chance.

My phone vibrates.

10.12 pm from Duncan Kane

Hey babe. How did you go today? I've just finished meeting with Governor. Going to crash at the office tonight. Meet for lunch tomorrow?

10.12 pm from Veronica Mars

All good. Lunch tomorrow sounds good.

I don't feel the need to tell him where I am. He didn't exactly ask. No harm, no foul.

I look up, and Logan is approaching the booth with two Martinis in hand. He stands at the end of the table and puts one in front of me.

"There is NO way you're back already!" I shriek, looking at the timer 2:53.

"Hi, I saw you sitting over here by yourself. I thought you might like a drink. I'm Logan," he holds his hand out toward me. I stare at it, confused. I lift my hand and shake his slowly. What is happening? I begin to wonder how many drinks I've had.

"What's your name?"

His eyes are smiling at me, pleading. Little creases were appearing on his forehead. He's willing me to play this game with him.

I stare back at him. Is he really going to do this? Go fishing? For me?

I contemplate the thought for a moment. What could be worse than Logan trying to woo me? And I know how to play this game, so I can make this timer go on forever. Suddenly I feel like this might be the perfect opportunity to ensure he loses, and have a bit of fun too.

"Veronica."

"Nice to meet you, Veronica, do you mind if I sit? Or are you waiting for someone?"

I motion to the seat, "make yourself at home."

He gently touches his fingers against my rings, sitting in the middle of the table and looks up at me, concerned.

"Are these yours? Are you married?"

"No, no," I pick them up and slip them onto my right hand, holding it up to show him.

"What are you doing here tonight, do you live in San Diego?"

"No, I live in Neptune. I'm here for work today."

"Awesome, I live in Neptune too, what a coincidence. What do you do, Veronica?"

I thought about it for a moment. It's a pretend world isn't it? This is a pretend conversation? I decide I'm going to be exactly who I want to be... I'm going all in.

"I'm in the FBI, an investigator."

"Wow, that's awesome! How long have you been doing that?"

"Since I finished college. I was lucky enough to get an internship there," It hurt a little even saying it. In this version of my life, I'm going to stick it out, finish my internship and not act like an idiot running back to Neptune at the first sign of struggle and back into Duncan's arms. I shudder at my naivety. At 21, you do stupid things and don't always consider how it will influence the rest of your life.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a Naval fighter pilot," he grins wide, dimples forming in his cheeks. My mouth opens wide in shock. Oh no, he didn't!

"Is that so?"

"Yep. Flying jets and protecting you and your country," he is laying it on thick.

I laugh, deep in my belly. Logan joins in, breaking character for a moment.

"Well, I admire you for your bravery, Logan," I salute him.

"Good," he sticks his tongue out at me, "you should!" his thigh grazes mine under the table. If he felt it, he certainly doesn't flinch.

"Are you single?" he asks, swirling his fingers absentmindedly on the martini glass and taking a sip.

I nod, making direct eye contact.

"You?"

Those caramel eyes stare back at me.

He nods back.

Our fries finally come to the table. As soon as I smell them I realize how hungry I am, I forgot lunch today and I'll I've consumed are multiple beers and a martini. I dig in.

"I love a woman who eats in front of a man," he watches the fries travel from my hand to my mouth.

"Well, then maybe we're meant to be!" I lean toward him and run my hand down his arm.

My signature move 'fishing' move.

He freezes momentarily.

As we get lost in our 'date,' I learn what it might be like to actually be on a date with Logan. He's flirtatious, attentive, cheeky. Sometimes it's nice to play pretend. Our relationship has always had the shadow of Duncan not far from my side, so imagining a life where I'm just myself is a little thrilling. Even if it's just for tonight, I can be whoever I want to be. The person I wish I were.

I look down at the timer 96:45 and smile.