Chapter Fifteen

It was 4:35pm on September 10th. The reunion was less than three hours away. Piz had flown in the night before. Wallace, Mac, and Veronica had picked him up at the airport. None of them, including the jet-lagged Piz, wanted to sit around and try to make small talk or keep each other awake. Instead, they'd jumped in Wallace's Camaro and headed over to check out Dick's new club, The 09ER.

Casing the joint in advance for safe places to land had sounded like a good idea at the time. When they arrived, though, they found pretty quickly that security was relative when the owner of the club was running rampant in full-blown party mode with no intention or sign of slowing.

"Dudes!" Dick called when he saw them from where he was working the bar. He sauntered toward them with his arms spread in a welcoming manner, seeming to signal that all the awesome around them somehow belonged to him, "Mi Club es su Club," he said. Then he nodded as if in approval of their presence while they all stood there awkwardly. "So, how's it hangin'?" he asked.

"Jury's out on my behalf," Veronica spoke up quickly before adding in a biting tone, "But my guess on your part is short, shriveled, and always to the left. Am I right?"

Dick smiled and nodded for a moment while Wallace, Piz, and Mac alternated between giggles and groans as they covered their faces as if they couldn't believe she'd really just said that. Mentally, Veronica counted down as she watched Dick's blank expression, '5, 4, 3...' Slowly, it went from clueless to understanding, '2, 1.'

"Hey!" he scowled finally, "Don't be pickin' on the Dickster's dick, Ronnie! You might be lonely some day and need a favor."

"Not on your life, Dick," Veronica responded smugly, a triumphant gleam in her sapphire eyes.

In spite of her insult to his manhood, Dick had shown the four to the VIP area and offered a round of drinks on the house.

It had taken most of the morning to waylay their hangovers. Then the girls had spent the afternoon shopping while the guys hit the basketball court before going to pick up their suits. Now the girls were in one bedroom getting ready while the guys hung out in the living room watching sports, already in their button downs and ties.

"What do you think?" Mac asked as she turned toward Veronica after having inspected herself in the mirror. She was wearing the proverbial little black dress, hem just two inches above her knees, with classic black nylons and four inch Mary Jane pumps.

Veronica looked her over critically before saying approvingly, "You, Ms. Mackenzie, are going to knock 'em dead." She then took in her own image in the mirror before saying, "I, on the other hand, look like I should be accompanying a corpse to the morgue."

"You do not," Mac scoffed, coming toward Veronica to adjust the shoulders on her jacket and give her a once over as well. "Hmm...maybe it is too much black," she said before asking, "What made you decide on the pantsuit? I mean, nothing against the silk top and black velvet pants combo buuuut...were you going for a 'hands off, I'm a professional' approach?"

"I think I've been living in New York too long," Veronica commented as she frowned at her reflection distastefully. She contemplated all the other possibilities she had in her closet but realistically, none of those were any better.

In spite of Mac's warning, Veronica had refused to buy anything when they'd been out perusing the boutiques. She may be be a lawyer now, she'd said, but she still knew how to rock an outlet mall and swore she could make what she'd brought with her work for the reunion. Now she realized that Mac's assessment was accurate: she did, indeed, look like a professional but her threads didn't exactly scream 'Party Down.'

"Too late now," Veronica said decidedly, "I guess it'll be your night to shine, Q. Better take advantage of Bond being your wingman for a change."

Mac laughed and shook her head, teasing lightly, "And what will I do when I lose you to the love of your life?"

"Pshaw," Veronica dismissed the words with a mocking wave of her hand, "Piz won't have any problem with me acting as your sidekick for a change."

"Right, because Piz is the love of your life," Mac returned with a supercilious laugh. When Veronica gave her a blank stare as if she had no clue what Mac was talking about, Mac rolled her eyes and giggled, saying, "Come on, Veronica. Seriously? You stay away for nine years out of mere hatred for our town? I don't buy it for a second."

"What in the world are you talking about, Mac? You know as well as I do that from the moment Lilly died, my life's mission has been to escape Neptune!" Veronica protested.

"And yet, you spent your freshman year on a full ride at Hearst," Mac pointed out knowingly, "Right here in Neptune. Why is that, Ms. Mars? Hmmm? And don't tell me that it was because of the money cause I won't buy that, either."

Getting uncomfortable now, Veronica shifted from one foot to the other, refusing to look Mac in the eye as she mumbled grudgingly, "No...me going to Hearst had very little to do with the money."

"Exactly," Mac said with satisfaction before adding, "And if I recall, you and a certain someone tried this whole dating other people thing before, at Hearst. It didn't work then and it's not working now."

"What do you mean it's not working now?" Veronica demanded, small fists now planted firmly on her hips as she looked sternly at Mac and defended herself to the best of her ability. "Piz and I have been together for six months. Long enough for things to be serious but not long enough for him to get any silly ideas about getting engaged. That sounds pretty fan-freaking-tastic to me!"

"Veronica, do you even hear yourself right now?" Mac asked incredulously as she looked back toward the mirror and began putting a minimal amount of makeup on. "What would happen if Piz did decide to propose, huh? What would you do, then?"

"I'd say no, of course!" Veronica blurted without thinking, then stopped with eyes wide and mouth dropped open, realizing what she'd just said.

"Of course," Mac repeated smugly before hitting her point home, "And, I suppose, there's no one on the face of the planet that you'd say yes to, right? Because you're Veronica Mars, jaded cynic, who's going to be a spinster and never get married. Or has something, perhaps someone, changed that lifelong goal over time?"

"I don't know," Veronica answered quietly, dropping to a seat on the bed. She got a faraway look in her hazy blue eyes as she contemplated Mac's question. It wasn't something she'd thought about in ages. Thinking about it now, though, she knew the answer. Slowly, her eyes met Mac's and there was a new softness, a new understanding in them that hadn't been there before. Still, she looked unsure and even conflicted as she bit her lower lip and nodded with a shrug. "Yeah...things have changed...I think."

A broad grin that brought out her dimples lit Mac's face. Then, like a small child who'd just heard she was going to Disney World, she bounced excitedly, squealed, and clapped her hands. "I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" she cried triumphantly.

Veronica laughed self-consciously, reaching an arm to keep her friend from getting too out of control. "That doesn't really mean anything, Mac. I mean, I've seen him all of twice in nine years. Just because something might be possible doesn't mean it's probable. Especially with our track record," she reminded.

Mac pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow in displeasure but didn't try to contradict anything her friend said. She debated several arguments in her head before saying, "Fine. Just don't rule it out, ok? Between the 'Grade Your Ass' website and designing the brochures for Casa de Caring, I've kinda gotten to know him a bit. He deserves to be happy. And so do you."

"Thanks, Mac," Veronica said sincerely if awkwardly, giving her friend a hug as she blinked away tears that were causing her to be misty-eyed. When she stepped back, she was all business again. Clearing her throat, she said with a motion of her head toward the door, "Alright, enough of that. Let's hit the road, Jack."