Chapter Fifty-One

Oblivious to the darkness and tension flowing ominously around the outer limits of the beach house, Veronica only saw and felt the warmth and happiness she saw before her.

She laughed. Giggling in delight and squealing as if she were a small child, she tried to guess the object that Dick had drawn on their team's side of the charades game.

"What the hell, Dick?! It looks like a massive dildo! Did you forget again that not everything looks like your namesake?" Veronica teased as she tilted her head from one side to the other trying in vain to figure out what else the pencil picture could be.

"Ha ha, very funny, Ronnie," Dick snorted scornfully, "Just you wait. You ever ride the Dick Train and you'll see how I got my name!"

"Umm…" Veronica started, debating which of the oh so many ways she should go in snarking back at him. She didn't get a chance to say any of them, though, when Logan jumped in.

"Dude! You're not sleeping with Veronica. EVER," Logan told him adamantly.

"As if I'd want to, Dude. It was totally a joke," Dick looked back over toward Veronica and said, "You knew that, right, Ronnie? Rich dude kryptonite and all. Not willing to test that theory here." He gestured with his hand, a vague chopping motion against his throat.

Laughing and rolling her eyes, Veronica said dryly, "Yes, Dick. I knew you were joking. Don't worry about it. I've got no intention of going all Lorena Bobbitt on your ass."

"My ass?" Dick asked with wide-eyed incredulity, "Ronnie, I think you've got the wrong body part in mind."

Wallace and Mac snorted with laughter as Logan just dropped his head to his hands, lamenting dramatically, "She hates talking dirty. Refuses it for as long as I've known her. Then one day, out of the blue, she FINALLY makes a few crude comments...and they're not even directed at me."

The laughter became so out of control that Veronica nearly had to yell when she had enough breath to respond, "Stop! You know the innuendo was always your schtick! I just rolled with the punches!"

"I remember you rolling with a lot more than just punches," Logan said teasingly with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Laughing some more, Veronica pointed over at him, going, "See? See? He's mocking me and provoking me all at once!"

"You thrive on it, Supa Fly! Just admit it," Wallace grinned smugly.

"So, ummm...is your picture 'The Gerkin', Dick?" Mac asked, trying to get back to the game.

"Huh?" Dick asked, giving her a blank look before looking back at the page, "What the fuck is The Gerkin?"

"Architecture," Wallace explained, giving his classic grin to 'his woman', "Modern office building in Central London in the UK. Most people think it looks like a giant pickle so they call it 'The Gerkin'."

"A pickle? Why don't they call it Pickle then?" Dick asked, completely clueless for a few moments and then a light of understanding came to his blue eyes and he nodded as if it were some great joke, "Ohhhh...nobody wants a Pickle Dick."

Veronica nearly peed herself, she laughed so hard.

Unbeknownst to the blissfully ignorant inhabitants of the house, there was a silent visitor outside who was quite grateful that Logan had left his car parked outside rather than in the three car garage. It made it much easier to swap one vehicle for the other. The 'new' and 'improved' car had been tweaked not only by the chop shop to look like Logan's car. It had also been tweaked with the tiniest of video recorders on the dash and the mirrors. Who knew when those watching might need those extra minutes to, well, get the hell out of dodge? The only thing he hoped was that Veronica Mars could mind her own business and stay out of theirs. If she couldn't, her life would be forfeit.