Title: Be My Escape

Rating: PG-ish

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Rob Thomas, CW, and whoever else are in full rights of this amazing show. I do not own the quotes or songs. I do however own a few characters and a very large supply of chocolate covered cherries- oh and Season Three of House, M.D.!

Summary: The story is in the future-almost 20 years-and takes place after the events of S2. The rest, well read and find out. Reviews are necessary since this is my first attempt at VM fanfic.

A/N: This is a long chapter- thank goodness for Christmas break! I am but a few short parts and polishings away from finishing this entire story. Be ready for rapid updates. (I hope.) To all who are still reading and actually like this story, thank you- really thank you so much. I do love reviews- the good and the bad. Other notes: I don't know if Bon Jovi or John Lennon's first son have kids but suspend and believe they do. And for those of you who haven't figured it out, confirmation is in this story about January's paternity. I guess I didn't mean for that to be a total mystery but there's so much more to tell on the back plot of it. Stay tuned readers and Happy Holidays!

Newspaper

"So?"

"The facts that tie the disappearances together are these: All of the missing girls were cheerleaders. All of the missing girls came from middle to lower class families. All of the missing girls had begun dating someone new from the Neptune area- or so he told them. All of the missing girls did not struggle. And lastly, in each car there was a piece of jewelry each girl wore left in the driver's rearview mirror. No fingerprints. No DNA. Worst of all no clues to where they might be."

"Is there…"

I held my breath. I didn't want to answer that question. I didn't want to tell them that right now, this was no longer a missing persons but a serial murder case. I knew that it had been too long- not impossibly long- but long enough that the girls were dead. A serial abductor versus a serial killer was an entirely different game, as well. An abductor keeping young girls alive could sell them, hold them, torture them but had enough "peace of mind" to keep them alive. A serial killer could have no motive other than to simply kill.

Mind you, there was an obvious pattern but to a killer it could be nothing more than mere coincidence. How do I explain to them that their friends and family might simply be victims of random violence and death? It wasn't my job or place as a friend. This is what parents were for- nevertheless, as a reporter I had every duty to tell the truth and give the facts; how detailed would be left my discretion and ethical codes.

"There is always a chance. Look at the Elizabeth Smart case. She was abducted for a substantial amount of time and found alive. But as a reporter and a person who has grown-up within a "crime fighting" family, this feels less like an abduction case every moment. It feels like a multiple homicide case."

Alex turned his eyes down. For some reason, out of all of them his reaction shook me. And I am not a girl who gets shaken or stirred, for that matter. Why did the sweet computer geek nerve me? It wasn't like he was a hottie like Heathe, although he was unfortunate looking either. His eyes were green- this amazing shade of green that changed with every word he said. He was soft-spoken but he didn't waste his words. He didn't waste anything. How could I just tell him I thought his cousins were dead? Worse yet, how could I even tell him that this didn't look to be a pretty murder where the bodies were found nice and neat in make-shift graves? I couldn't. I wouldn't. I was still short more information than I cared to admit.

"Listen, not even Keith Mars has any great leads. I am sorely lacking key pieces to this puzzle. There's a lot I could be wrong about. I need more information."

"On which case?" Isa asked poignantly.

I looked at her, met here eye to eye, and I sighed. "Both. I am nowhere closer to discovering out why people are the way they are here and why this affecting the Cheerleading Case as much as it is. I just need more information and I am tapped." With that, I turned away from the group and absent-mindedly worked on my short assigned piece for the paper about the dangers of using one's cell phone and driving in the parking lot. This is hard for me. Back in New York I knew where the information was and had it handed to me on a silver platter. Here in Neptune, you had to know how to play the games to get what you wanted and even then, there were no guarantees. Reading about and learning from Keith Mars had taught me that much. All I knew was I had to figure these cases out- something in my gut- tells me that it just might be life and death.

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Mars Investigations

Veronica glared at the computer screen. It was an e-mail from her agent/best friend Shiva. In a little over two months, the first complete collection of Veronica M.'s photographs in book form would be published. Along with the book, the publisher would like an interview with Veronica to be placed as a forward. She had the option of choosing an interviewer she wanted- she could choose Oprah (Who was an avid fan…) if she wanted. The truth is she didn't want to be interviewed at all.

Maybe it was the years spent as the one behind the camera and the stories, or just plain selfishness. She didn't want anyone to know her life, her dirty little secrets. She had enough of those and being in Neptune only reminded her they had not gone away.

She was debating on how to respond to the e-mail when January Grant walked in. Veronica looked up from the computer and watched the young girl for a moment. Her stomach began to knot. Weird, she thought. There was something ironically familiar about the girl in how she walked and threw her bag on the beaten couch in the lobby. January had not noticed Veronica's attention and merely smiled at the sight of her.

"I really thought Neptune was going to suck. This is still very cool that I walk into Keith Mars' office and can actually talk to Veronica Mars. I feel like a stoner- not that I know what that feels like…"

"Hey January." Veronica responded, returning the smile. "What can I do for ya?"

"Your dad's not in, by chance is he?"

"He should be in five- if you can wait."

"I can. Who needs math anyways?"

"You have Her' Glochen?"

"Hail!"

"They must make them really strong in the mother country."

"And indestructible, too."

"How's your case going?"

A frown moved across January's face. "Not as well as I would have liked. There are too many connections here. Two of the kidnapped girls are daughters of Grace Manning, cousins to Duncan Kane's daughter Hannah. However, from what I understand Duncan let Hannah have nothing to do with her cousins. In school, the girls don't even speak. A good friend of mine…Alex, Hannah's his cousin too. She baffles me. Here's a girl kidnapped by her father after her mother dies and believes her father is perfect…"

"That's because no matter what Duncan Kane does- he is the golden boy."

"Yeah, I got that feeling too. Like he could have someone knocked off and the town would erect a statue in his honor."

Veronica gave a wry smile. "How'd you know?"

"How'd I know…you're kidding me?!? Who?"

"Rumor…AND I STATE RUMOR, Duncan hired his dad's personal security C.W. to kill Aaron Echolls."

January leaned back in the chair and smiled too. "All's fair in murder and cover-up…"

"Especially in Neptune." The voice of Keith Mars chimed in. He gave a wide grin to the two young women. "And what do I oh this honor Miss Grant?"

January hopped out of her chair. "Well, you're going to have to trust me."

Keith quirked his eye and gave a nod to Veronica. "Choose a different line, kid. That one's been taken."

Veronica merely smiled back at her father.

"Okay, you're going to have do something that you might not like but I have a hunch on?"

"Better."

"How well do you know the Mitchell's?"

"As in Sheriff?"

"That'd be the one."

"She's old money. Her husband is a plastic surgeon, I think. Son in high school and a daughter in junior high. Nothing outrageous, why?"

"I went over to their house for dinner, as you know. And…"

"And what?"

"Doctor Mitchell creeped me out. He's a plastic surgeon but from what I've heard he downgraded when they moved. Why would he do that? I also noticed he doesn't speak unless spoken to in the house which is rarely. Oh! And it appears his son is completely embarrassed and revolted by him."

"And that makes you think they're worthy of investigating? I need more January."

"Dad, think about it. January's right. Why would a high class plastic surgeon and his old money wife leave a cushy life in the small town South for a small notorious town known for NOT keeping sheriff's alive in California- on the other side of the country?" Veronica piped in.

Keith leaned against his doorway and crossed his arms. This was a sure sign he was considering the argument the girls' presented. "You want me to check out him or the entire family."

"I think you should check the entire family. Maybe there's a reason why they are the way they are. There's definitely domestic problems."

"Alright, I'll do it. What information did you get?"

"Not much. She's "bought" through and through. Every piece of jewelry was hanging from the review mirror. I'm sure you could run the significance of that by a profiler. Off hand, I'd say that the jewelry is not just a parlor trick but for the kidnapper is a big freak'n neon sign to his issues."

"What makes you think it's a guy?"

"Statistically speaking, what makes you think it's not?"

Keith looked down and back at January. "Their information is going to be harder to get. Might take a few days-till then January, keep your head low and stay safe."

She took in his seriousness and gave a small nod. The nod made Keith shake his head in a bizarre type of déjà vu. He'd seen the nod before, hadn't he? Where? He took a quick shot in his head of January standing near the desk and Veronica. There was no reason for the feeling but he did it anyway. It was that instinct of his- the instinct that made him so good at his job. With that, January grabbed her bag and gave quick good-byes to Veronica and himself as Eli entered the door.

"So I see our favorite amateur P.I. is in? Whada' she want?"

Keith decided to keep the investigation to himself. "Just to report on her dinner at the Mitchell's. Nothing we don't know, really… You get the bail jumper?"

"Yeah, these guys must be get dumber, this one was too easy. And V, you're in my seat." Eli smirked.

"I own this seat Weevil. You're just borrowing it."

"Yeah, yeah. What do you think of your dad's groupie?"

"She's sure going to give Wallace a run for his money."

"Giving your dad one, too."

"I see that- but I think she'll fit in just fine." Veronica stopped a moment and grinned. "Just fine."

Cups of Stone

Round Table

No.

I could have said "No." I could have said a lot of things actually with that "no" but I didn't. I let Scott Kane goat me, dare me into singing…well, blackmail me into singing.

Damn my curiosity.

I was content simply sitting in Cups of Stone, drinking my chai tea, and delving deeper into conversation with Heathe and his blue eyes. (Good grief, he's so hot!) But enough about his hotness, it was another heat that got me into this mess.

So there I was drinking my chai tea, minding my own business, when I catch Scott Kane, sister- Hannah and the twins in tow, sitting down in a booth in the corner. Scott had a mysterious grin on his face. A grin that said, "I've got a secret you need to know." I tried to ignore the smile, the grin and continue my happy time with Heathe, Isa and Alex.

I tried real hard.

Three minutes later I had moved to the bar to buy another drink of caffeine I did not need. It was less than shocking when Scott came up behind me; still grinning.

"You rang?"

"How's the case going?"

"How do you think its going?" I asked in a tone of disdain. He knew how the case was going and that's why he had me up here.

"Listen, I have information for you…"

I turned and faced him eye to eye. I placed my hand on my hip and leaned against the counter. "What's that going to cost me?"

He just kept smiling. "I heard you have a talent. And as it so happens, tonight is open mike night."

I swept back towards the counter and clutched it for life. How did Scott Kane, sadistic prince of the 09ers, find out about my guitar? Didn't anyone respect confidentiality laws? "How do you know I have any talent?" I grimaced through clutched teeth.

He gave a short laugh. "Your mother. She was "bragging" to my mom about how you spent years taking lessons, played in the school band, sung a talent show with your little friends…"

Of course, it was my Mom. "Mommy Dearest" had evidently told Nichole Kane that I was a guitar and singing virtuoso in hopes to make me sound better than Hannah- you know boost my cred that I was by far superior even though I had a pennant for getting into trouble . Nice try, Mom I thought bitterly. I unclenched my fists and teeth and turned back around. "First, those little friends of mine happen to be Stella-daughter of Jon Bon Jovi, and Harper, grandson of John Lennon. Second, how do I know the information is worth it? And…lastly, I am very good at many things. Take your pick and I'll do it but like I said- only if I know the information is worth anything at all. Which, I seriously doubt."

My bravado had kicked in overdrive. All I needed to do was snap my fingers in his face and I would have had the entire attitude one needs to be a first class…you get my point. He stepped back, a little, surprised I think by my reverse challenge. He shrugged. "I have two copied files of two of the missing girls which were given to my father to give to his own private investigators along with their notes. While they aren't "Keith Mars" they are highly trained and skilled and productive at what they do." He then pointed to the table where a bag sat and from the edge of the bag peered two file folders.

Call me easy. Call me curious. Call me an idiot, because before I knew it I agreed. The Cups of Stone had a house guitar they lent to last minute performers. Scott practically ran to his table and told the rest of the group. I went to the MC for the night and signed my name down. I would be "on" in five minutes.

Crap.

I rushed back to my table and downed Isa's water. She gave a blank and confused stare.

"Yeah, I'm an information whore. I just agreed to sing for two files on the case from Scott Kane. I will be playing guitar and singing. All I need you three to do is shut up, clap very loudly if no one else does, and then be ready to run when I am finished. Got it?" I finally looked up.

There were no words, except from Alex. The confusing coolness he possessed continued to baffle me. What was he seeing or hearing that I wasn't?!? I had pegged the Computer Geek wrong because something about the way he spoke and the look in his eyes chilled and thrilled me. "You'll be good." And with that I gulped the last of my coffee and went to tune the house guitar and hope to God this wasn't a really cruel Carrie-esque trick. I glanced up- just to make sure there were no buckets of pig's blood.

The Cups of Stone was packed, of course. But I noticed Keith Mars immediately. Keith and Veronica Mars and Weevil were all sitting at a corner booth- slightly hiding- to revel in my ultimate sacrificial humiliation. This night could have not gotten any worse. Slowly, I trudged up to the stage and picked up the ordinary acoustic guitar and sat down on the stool. I adjusted the mike awkwardly and finally looked up into the bright shining stage light.

Always look behind them to who you really want to sing to- see that person- sing that song. The words of my music professor ran through my head like an old theme song. I always knew that person she talked about. It was always to the same person, or persons- my real parents; that is who I sang to. I imagined them sitting in a corner listening to everything I wanted to tell them but never would be able to say. Here on the stage I could sing it. I gently tuned the guitar and spoke.

"My name is January Grant and the song I am going to sing tonight was written by Brandi Carlile. It's called The Story. And here goes nothing…" And I began a song I had sung so many times; each time hoping it would be different.

All of these lines across my face,

tell you the story of who I am.

So many stories of where I've been.

And how I got to where I am.

But these stories don't mean anything,

when you got no one to tell them to-

it's true- I was made for you.

I climbed across the mountain tops.

Swam all across the ocean blue.

I crossed all the lines and broke all the rules,

and baby, I broke them all for you.

Oh because even when I was flat broke,

you made me feel like a million bucks-

You do. I was made for you.

You see the smile that's on my mouth,

It's hiding the words that won't come out.

All of our friends who think that I'm blessed,

they don't know my head is mess.

No, they don't know who I really am,

and they don't know what I've been through-

like you do. I was made for you.

My fingers ran the chords as if I were a mechanical music machine. I didn't need to think about what I was playing or even the words I sang. It didn't matter. I could do nothing but think that I would never know- no one would ever know- who I really was. Years of hiding my secret, years of playing along with my parents and family, years of just resigning myself to being a "castaway" had taken its toll in my life. I couldn't even bring myself to say it out loud- to say that I was abandon by my biological parents completely. No one wants to admit they've ever been abandon; not even kick-ass teenage girls who have everything going for them.

All of these lines across my face,

tell you the story of who I am.

So many stories of where I've been.

And how I got to where I am.

But these stories don't mean anything,

when you got no one to tell them to-

it's true- I was made for you.

Well, baby it's true, I was made for you.

I finished the song, played my last chord and looked into the audience. The stunned silent audience…and I am ready to dive off the stage and out the local exit till the claps and applause started. People got to their feet. I could hear Isa, Alex, and Heathe hooting in the corner. Keith and Weevil were both grinning and applauding. Even Scott had managed to accolade my song. It was the reaction of Veronica Mars that puzzled me. She remained seated, looking past me and totally oblivious to everyone else in the room. I had embarrassed myself in front of my hero. The thought didn't last long, as Alex, Isa, and Heathe began a chant of "Encore!" which was joined by half the people in the room.

Cups of Stone

Booth in the Back

People sang songs all the time. She'd heard a million of them. She'd seen rock stars, folk singers and music legends play. Every song she knew and every song she hummed or sang never brought her to knees.

Except this one.

It couldn't be her.

It just couldn't.

But don't fool yourself Veronica Mars, her inner voice warned tenaciously, only your kid could find you and never know it. Only you could meet her and not realize what was right in front of your face-she is your little girl. How stupid are you Mars?

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Mars' House

Veronica's Old Room

"Honey I'm home!"

"Must you do that every time you walk in the door?"

"Yes, I must." Logan Echolls replied as he gave his adorable wife a sweet lingering kiss. "Where's Maggie?"

"Detention." Veronica Echolls responded, as she returned to the kitchen to continue the dinner she had just begun preparing.

"Again? For what?" Logan asked, slightly exasperated.

"I think it was for pretending to be the School Interim Superintendent on the phone in order to obtain information from Principal Hawn."

"It's amazing how well our daughter has managed to follow in your footsteps."

Veronica faced her husband with Ginsu knife in hand, "Listen Logan, the last time she did detention it was for helping Scott and Meredith and Michael place the Principal's car on the flag pole. A stunt I believe you pulled our junior of high school, if I'm right?"

Logan grinned. Maggie Lynn Echolls was in no doubt her parents' child. She'd been visiting Vice-Principal Fennell since she started Neptune- no surprise to anyone who knew Logan or Veronica.

"Is your dad coming for supper?"

"No, he's helping the Department with a case and he thinks he has a lead."

"The priorities in your family…" Logan said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, that whole crime fighting thing is getting a bit old isn't it? I mean my dad's a P.I. and I'm the Sheriff and I am married to the Mayor. We gotta do something about this Logan, we've become upstanding citizens. Let's go stake out a hotel, find a scandal, or OOOOH we could break into Duncan's house."

Logan laughed. "Darling, we have the keys to Duncan's house. What fun would that be?"

Veronica set down her knife and walked over to Logan. She wrapped her arms around his neck, having to slightly tiptoe to do so. She gave him a petulant grin. "You are absolutely no fun since you started taking this mayor thing seriously."

He kissed her forehead. "You're no fun since you became Sheriff."

She pulled him closer and began to kiss him as if they were teenagers again and standing on a hotel balcony.

"Could you guys refrain from the PDAs till after my bedtime or you know, I graduate high school?" Maggie groaned as she walked into the kitchen.

"We could but where would the fun be!" Logan told his daughter as he slowly pulled away from his wife, who returned to her chopping. "Sooooo…how's Wallace?"

Maggie rolled her eyes as she flipped through her mail. "He's fine. Sends his love."

"Maggie…"

"Dad…"

"You got some 'splain'n to do."

"Fine. I made a phone call to Principal Hawn pretending to be Mrs. Grousch asking her why the basketball team was being subjected to drug tests every other week. Turns out one of the players was busted two weeks ago by the Principal with E. He then proceeded to tell her the entire team was in on the deal."

"Hmmmm…that's strange. The Department hasn't heard anything about it."

"That's because the kid they busted was Martin Yale, Senator Yale's son. Principal Hawn is getting new tennis courts and a gym if she keeps this under wraps and manages to "liberate" Martin from the charges. She ordered the testing to see if Martin is telling the truth."

"And…"

"He's lying. No way, the team is that smart to have a drug ring or Wallace is that dumb not to know what's going on."

"Awww. Well, it looks like the Sheriff will be visiting her favorite school."

"Wallace was hoping you would."

"It's amazing how our family bonds." Logan quipped as he handed plates to his daughter to set the table. "I mean who would've thought we'd be sitting down for a meal together even after Veronica gave you up for adoption and told me you were dead."

Veronica set-up in her bed, sweat drenching her body. A nightmare, a dream- it felt real, though. It seemed easy to be a working mom with a working husband and a daughter in high school. It seemed easy to be happy loving family.

What had she done?

---------------------

Fennell House

"Look V, I love you like a sister but you are going to have to explain to me right now- why in the hell did you drag me out of bed at 2 in the morning?"

Veronica wiped the tears away from her eyes again. She cried all the way over to Wallace's and had barely managed to calm down enough to ask him to come outside and talk. She took a deep breath. "Wallace, I think January Grant is my daughter." There she said it. She should have felt better. She should have felt a certain kind of relief at finally saying what she'd been avoiding since late last night. She didn't. All she felt was the overwhelming guilt resurface once more and flood her eyes and chest.

"WHAT?"

"Wallace, please… you know me. You've known me longer than anyone. Do you really think I would be here if I didn't really believe it?"

Wallace paused for a moment and opened his eyes to his friend. Veronica looked worse than he'd ever seen her. Ever. She had been crying and upset. He took his coat and placed it around her, and pulled her to the curb to sit down on.

He had known her forever. He'd known her hunches weren't just hunches but usually right-on-the-money-100-true-realities. No one had as many hunches be right as this girl. He gave it thought. January did bear an odd resemblance to Veronica and if you added Logan- even weirder. The first time he met her, he thought of Veronica. He talked to Keith and Weevil and both of them had the same thought too. But could it be that easy? You give-up your daughter, thinking you'll never see her again, and she moves to your home town and picks-up where you left off---that only happened in shows on The CW or late night movies, right?

Veronica met Wallace's eyes and the truth hit Wallace smack in the face. "Damn…" Was all he could muster.

"Wallace, I need to know for sure. I need her D.N.A.- I have a friend who works in lab in San Diego and promised I could get the results in a matter of hours if I got to her before Friday."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Call her into your office. Offer her something to drink. Make sure she takes it and drinks and then make sure she leaves the can or glass behind. Put it in bag and call me."

They were at it again. She needed a favor and he readily complied. Of course, he owed her. He always owed her. She saved his life and reputation his first week in Neptune. She continued saving him even from across the world. She was the one who told him to "get over" Jackie or go find her. Fortunately for him, Veronica knew exactly where he needed to look. He owed her happiness- the happiness he had. "Alright V, you got it." He replied wrapping his arms around her.

This time, he didn't even make her say please.

TBC...