THE STILL POINT (ON A SPINNING WORLD), chapter twelve
by: AliLamba
rated: T
notes: Thanks to SiriSunrider, who is responsible for this chapter getting posted today. If it weren't for her and everyone else who made it clear they enjoy this story, I might have toiled forever trying to make this chapter perfect in a way it might never be. In any case, I hope you enjoy it. It's a long one, and it's a long time coming. So please make some tea, curl up somewhere cozy, tell everyone to leave you alone for half an hour, and…enjoy :-)

Veronica, Mac, Wallace and Keith are deciding where to park outside of San Francisco International Airport with a certain amount of trepidation. After some consideration during the last twenty-odd hours, they've decided to trust their own passports to get to Yangon, Myanmar, but no one's very happy about it. It was Keith's idea to wait and buy their tickets at the last second in case someone was monitoring their travel plans, and to fly out of SFO instead of LAX to avoid onlookers. Mac was put in charge of buying tickets, so while Keith drives around the long-term parking lot, Mac is cursing and tapping furiously on her tablet.

"There's no way we're getting there in less than 40 hours," Mac complains, her eyes riveted to the screen. "Why is it that on the way back we can make the trip in 26 hours, but on the way there it'll take almost twice as long? Fuck."

Wallace turns around in the front seat and looks poised to explain something about wind. Veronica silences him with a Don't piss off the one with the money look.

"I saw that," Mac groans. She looks at Veronica. "Logan's going to pay me back, right."

Veronica bites her lip. If he's alive, then yeah.

It is totally stupid, spending close to ten grand on round trip tickets halfway across the world based only on the beliefs held by one person. Or four people, now, as Kathy's relayed theories had convinced Keith, Wallace and Mac that Logan is sitting on a stump somewhere waiting for rescue.

Veronica doesn't count herself similarly impressed, anymore.

She knows what is holding her back from believing the same now. Hope is a dangerous, dangerous thing, and the words her dad once warned her with are still running through her head. What are you going to do if we go through all of this and at the very end nothing changes. What if we spend the rest of our lives trying to get to the bottom of this and it turns out that Logan is still dead.

Isn't this sort of thing exactly what he worried about? She watches her dad look for parking through his rearview mirror. Why is he so positive then? What makes him so sure that Logan is alive, when Veronica has so many doubts?

Or fears?

Fears may be a more appropriate word.

No one really calms down until they're all sitting in front of the gate, trying to decide how to kill the next hour and a half before their flight. Mac lives up to her stereotype by pulling out her laptop. Veronica wants to do some digging of her own, but she's too full of nerves to think straight, so she spends most of her time zoning out and jumping whenever someone says her name. Wallace and Keith try to nap.

There's a TV on nearby playing CNN non-stop. Veronica's attention drifts in and out where it's concerned, until the anchors mention that they'll be interrupting their regular broadcast to air An Echolls Family Funeral at 7 pm. Then she finds it hard to focus on anything else.

By 6:57 Wallace, Mac, Keith and Veronica are all huddled in front of the TV. Mac grips Veronica's cold hand as if to shield them from whatever fresh torture Trina has in store. They both know this episode won't feature Rear Admiral Skip Johnston.

It's Logan's funeral.

Veronica feels it like a punch to her gut, because she'd forgotten all about burying him. She forgot that he was due to have a military burial arranged with Trina and Logan's brother.

Trina hadn't forgotten. Veronica prepares to get righteously angry at whatever circus Trina has turned her brother's funeral into, but when the screen fades from black, only a few people fill the frame. When the camera focuses on Trina's face, she isn't fake crying. She almost looks distracted, like she isn't even aware that the cameras are there. Trina is swathed in black, in the middle of some sunny field with rows and rows of plain white tombstones lined out in every direction. There are maybe a dozen other people in attendance, and Veronica feels her heart tug, because each of them looks legitimately sad. They're all standing around an empty grave while a holy man begins a prayer.

It's all almost…dignified. It would be completely dignified if it weren't for Dick, who is sitting on the ground like a tired toddler who wants to go home, sobbing uncontrollably.

Veronica feels a grudging respect that Trina was able to remember her brother in this modest, almost heartfelt way. She chews on her lip as she imagines, for the first time, what Trina must be feeling in this moment. Brother gone, parents gone…the Echolls family had been through too many funerals. A part of her anger at Trina fades.

The episode is short, because Logan's service is short. The pastor speaks for a while, and then the camera lingers on Logan's tombstone for a long time. The whole thing is over and done within a matter of twelve minutes, making Veronica wonder whether something was left in the editing room. She sighs when it's finished, conflicted in her emotions. A part of her almost wants to call Trina, and not because she's still mad at Logan's sister for making the documentary in the first place or trying to auction off Logan's clothes…but because she wants to tell Trina that she's sorry for her loss. It's a strange idea to reconcile with all the anger she's used to feeling.

When the CNN anchors come back on the screen they look similarly confused, and they launch immediately into a lengthy analysis Veronica doesn't want to listen to. Her attention drifts as her selective hearing tunes it out. Her companions feel similarly inclined, and one by one they resume other activities.

Veronica doesn't typically make a habit of reading over people's shoulders, but she finds herself drawn when the name Eli Navarro catches her eye on Mac's screen twenty minutes later.

"You're emailing Eli?" she asks, almost embarrassed because she'd totally forgotten about him.

"Yeah," Mac explains, sounding a bit hesitant. "He wrote to me – well, he wrote to you too – after everyone found out. I sort of forgot to keep him in the loop before the news broke. He tried coming to the house but we were way gone before he got there. I've been keeping him up to date since."

Unease swirls in her belly before Veronica knows why. Mac anticipates her thoughts. You have no idea how easy it is to hack into someone's emails these days. Honestly, I hope you both know that.

"Well, you know, in as many words as I can. I trust Eli and I know he cares about you, but I just really don't trust his computer," Mac says with a sigh. Veronica feels the urge to roll her eyes as the panic leaves her before she'd really recognized why it was there. Of course Mac judges people based on their technical aptitudes.

The crowds around the gate start to swell twenty minutes before boarding, and Veronica, Keith, Mac and Wallace have to squish together to avoid people invading their space. They'd booked two economy seats and two first class seats for their trip to Hong Kong en route to Myanmar, taking the only spots left on the crowded flight.

Veronica feels herself getting more and more nervous the closer they get to boarding. She's been on edge – they all have – since leaving Trina's house the day before. They're worried about Johnston and rightfully so. They've played their hand, and now it is Johnston's turn, and he has the power of the US government to detain her and everyone she associates with. It's a confusing miracle they've made it as far as they have already without Johnston putting out a warrant for their arrest.

She jumps when her phone rings. Wallace, Mac and Keith catch her eye for reassurance before she looks at the screen. Recognizing the name, Veronica smiles in spite of herself and closes her eyes, shaking her head to mitigate the fears of her friends.

"Hi Dick," she says, after she answers the phone and puts it against her ear.

"Hey Ronnie," he answers, sniffling. He sounds more sober than he has in ages.

She's not sure why he called. "You okay?"

He sniffles again. "Yeah," he says, as if he doesn't really believe it, as if he's doing okay enough considering the circumstances. "I didn't see you at the funeral today."

Veronica's lips soften sorrowfully, and she looks down at the ground. "Can you blame me?" she asks, meekly.

There are some noises coming from Dick's throat that melt her heart. "I guess not." He takes a deep breath and sighs. "It just would've been nice to see you, I guess. I'm getting pretty tired of Trina and her bullshit."

Veronica nods, though she knows he can't see her, and stays silent. Dick is also silent.

"How's your treatment?" she says, for something to say.

Dick snorts into the phone. "Not great. Been puking my guts up for the past thirty-six hours. Ugh, and you would not believe the tattoo I got. I don't even remember getting it. I'll send you a pic later. Or - are you coming home soon?"

Veronica looks up and away. "I don't know, Dick." There's so much more to say. There's so much he doesn't know, that she wants to tell him. It seems almost cruel to keep him out of the loop like they are.

"Dick," she starts to say, and she already regrets what she's about to say. "Logan's alive."

She wishes she hadn't told him that. She wishes she hadn't told him that because she doesn't quite believe it herself. Mac, Wallace and Keith are looking at her wide-eyed, like they can't believe what she said either. She doesn't indulge their questions, and looks away.

"He's what?" Dick finally says, and his voice is far away.

Veronica takes a deep breath. "He's alive."

There's a now-familiar squeak on the phone as Dick start to cry again. "Since when?" Dick finally whines, and his voice sounds accusatory, like he's mad at himself.

"I don't know Dick," Veronica answers, sympathizing. "He's lost in Myanmar somewhere. We found out yesterday. Dick, we're getting on a plane. We're going to go get him."

She hears him sniffle on the other end of the phone as Dick tries to control himself. "Good," he squeaks. "Because I'm starting to get prank calls from imposters, Ronnie, and it's really wearing me out, you know?"

Dick's sadness pulls at her heart. She can't believe people would do that to him, knowing how close he was to Logan. The cruelty of people, she observes, letting herself be mad on Dick's behalf.

"I'm sorry about that, Dick," she says.

Dick laughs, humorlessly. "Yeah well at least now I have a fake number to give chicks that I'll actually remember. The last time I was trying to blow a girl off after sex, I ended up giving her 1-800-Mattress Discounters."

Veronica's mouth opens, and she has nothing to say.

"That was dumb," Dick reflects in retrospect, as if he's reliving the bimbo's fury all over again. "But let me know how it goes, okay?"

"Of course Dick," Veronica assures him, a small smile creeping around the corners of her mouth from the images Dick so unfailingly elicits.

She hangs up, staring at her phone for a long minute. There is something about the way Dick got off the phone so quickly – something unnerving, and she has a feeling he's searching for a bottle of tequila right now.

"Are you sure that was such a good idea?" her dad is the first to ask. Veronica bites her lower lip, reliving her conversation. She looks up at her dad knowing that she is still sad inside.

"Yeah," is all she says, and it's such a sure sound that the conversation is dropped.

Mac and Veronica take the first shift in first class. They hold each other's hand during take-off, knowing that it's not because either is afraid of flying. They don't let go until they've reached cruising altitude, until the first drinks service has come and gone. Their shoulders finally relax during dinner.

Keith comes by to visit after the cabin lights dim. It's an overnight flight to Hong Kong, and everyone is going to try to sleep.

"Do you think I could get some time with my daughter?" Keith asks Mac, before Veronica has a chance to say hello and ask if he needs anything.

Mac looks confused, but she grabs her stuff together politely, and heads back into the economy section with a reassuring smile to Veronica.

Veronica watches her friend go. Something about her dad is making her nervous.

"Everything okay?" she asks immediately, and Keith smiles back at her tightly as if she's being predictable.

"Everything's fine," he says, taking the seat next to her and buckling himself in. Veronica feels her shoulders relax, as some of the nervous energy leaves her. "I just wanted to check in with you."

"I'm fine," she says automatically, and the way her dad smiles at her again, in the same tight, penetrating way, has her feeling on edge again.

"You're not fine," he argues. "There's no way you could be fine with all this."

Veronica shifts her weight in her seat and looks away. When she glances back her dad is still looking at her, almost expectantly.

"I've been thinking a lot about what you said," she answers for herself. "About…about what you said back at the lake, about what would happen to me if Logan was still dead at the end of all of this."

Her dad's look changes to one of calm sympathy (maybe relief?), and he nods, remembering.

"And?"

"And," she answers, "and I don't know anymore. I was fine, thinking that Logan was dead. No, I wasn't fine. But I…" she searches her feelings. "I understood it, after a while. I understood that he was dead, and I made my peace with that.

"And now…" she trails off, and places an unconscious hand on her belly that her dad doesn't miss. Veronica shakes her head, and hangs her head. There's nothing to say.

"And now?" he prompts, drawing her attention. "Now you get to go save his life, honey."

Veronica doesn't look like she believes him.

"It's been almost two weeks, dad." She looks so sad. "Who knows where he could be now. He could have survived the crash and died in the jungle. He could be in some strange village in the middle of nowhere. If he made it to a major city – then what? Then he could be anywhere." She's getting carried away, and her dad knows it too. He calms her by taking her free hand in his. It makes her realize she's worrying her lower lip.

"We'll find him," Keith insists. When she looks at him doubtfully, he opens his eyes at her. "He's Logan freaking Echolls sweetheart, how hard can it be?"

She fights with herself, and indulges her dad with a smile.

They sit in silence for a long time. Everyone around them is asleep, or has their ears covered in headphones, eyes reflecting some sort of in-flight entertainment.

Her voice is quiet. "Do you think he'll be mad at me?"

Keith reflects on that for what feels like a long time. "I don't think so honey, no."

She doesn't look convinced, and her lips twist together into a frown.

He squeezes her hand briefly. "Why would he be mad at you?"

Veronica picks nervously at the fabric covering her thighs with her free hand. "Because I didn't come looking for him sooner. Because I believed that he was dead."

Her dad thinks on that for a while, while observing his daughter for signs of hidden fears.

"I think he'll be so happy to see you, honey," he says, almost as if he's excited for their reunion himself. "And if he's not we can just leave him there," he adds, to make his daughter laugh. She does laugh, though the sound is weak and more for his benefit. They dissolve into silence.

"We don't even know where to start when we get there. He could be anywhere." Her dad doesn't say anything. "He could be dead," she insists.

"What does your gut tell you?" he asks, and the question surprises her. Veronica looks at her dad plaintively.

"My gut was wrong for eleven days," she reminds him. "My gut thought you were dead once when you weren't." Veronica's lips tighten in memory. She weighs how she feels in her mind, testing knowledge against her emotions. "Logically…I think…he could be alive. Kathy could have been right. It would certainly work with what we know already if Logan had survived. Considering what Kathy said, a dead body would have been easy to recover."

The soundness of it all is sobering. It sits like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

Veronica lets her dad hold her hand for a long time.

"I think he's alive, dad."

He squeezes her hand. "Me too, honey."

During their three-hour layover in Hong Kong's International Airport, Veronica finds herself staring at her reflection in a bathroom mirror. She'd brushed her teeth in some vain attempt to feel clean, when in reality she'd just needed to get up and move around. She couldn't sleep on the plain. Nerves rolling around in her belly prevented her from eating much.

She knows she looks pale, and it's not just because of the waxen lighting in the room. She's so tired. Veronica examines herself, wondering what she could look like from Logan's perspective. She's lost weight. The skin beneath her eyes is sallow, and if she had to give a name to her complexion it would be ashy. She can't help thinking that between her greasy hair and the rest of her…what's the phrase…she's just not a lot to come home to.

It's been 47 mostly sleepless hours when Veronica starts walking off of a plane in Yangon.

Veronica feels dirty, smelly, and wired. She knows how implausible it would be to see Logan in the airport, but a part of her is hyper alert for him as they wade through customs.

She should have been hyper alert for the uniformed officer waiting for them amidst the sea of cab drivers and tour guides past the final check point. He's holding a sign that says MARS on it like he thought it would be funny.

"Ms. Mars!" this man calls out. "I'm supposed to ask you to turn right back around and get on that plane."

There's an awkward pause, as Wallace, Mac, Veronica and Keith come to a stop in front of him. It's not like they can run at this point, and they're not sure yet if he's alone. The man laughs. "No I'm just kidding. Actually, I was sent to ask what you're doing in beautiful Myanmar and if the US government can be of any help." His voice is kind of whiny, in an an over-eager concierge sort of way. Maybe it's just because she's tired, but Veronica instinctually feels like she wants to punch him in the face. She has a dangerous feeling he would punch back.

"We're just here to pay our respects," Keith interjects, standing right behind his daughter.

The concierge man looks at them like he's concerned. "Oh, didn't you hear? The initial report was wrong. Lieutenant Echolls actually crashed outside of the South China Sea. I'm sure you heard. If you'd like I can set you up with the next direct flight to Manila? I think there's one leaving in just about an hour…"

Something it tickling the back of Veronica's neck. It's an instinct to run, to get away from this man entirely. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck are sticking up ominously.

"No thank you," she says. Unspoken is…we don't need to play these games.

The concierge man stops looking so friendly.

"Veronica Mars," he says, and something about the way he says it lets her know this man must have looked through a very extensive background check with her name on it. The way he says it implies ownership, and she knows implicitly that he'd become familiar with her sex tape. It's a tone of voice she's heard before. "I'm not sure what you're hoping to accomplish during your visit. I can assure you the United States Navy is doing everything it can to look in to the matter of Lieutenant Echolls' death."

"Then they won't mind if we help out a little," Veronica counters.

They stare at each other for what feels like a very long minute. And then the concierge man smiles tightly.

"That is, if you weren't here simply to pay your respects."

Veronica feels herself mirroring his smile. "If," she agrees.

The man doesn't take his eyes off Veronica as he addresses the group. "Well I hope you all enjoy your stay here in Yangon. If you can, I highly recommend the bogyoke aung san market. They really do have the best mohinga in town."

The man is trying to be overtly clear: You are terribly out of your depth, little girl.

This is my town.

The cold feelings of dread don't leave her spine right away, and Veronica is distracted as they group into a taxi and head into the center of town to pick a hotel.

They pick one because it seems to be the one with employees most likely to speak English. Their choice is confirmed when they accept US dollars for payment and exchange some of the rest Keith brought with them in-house for Myanmar kyat.

They drop off their stuff, two adjoining rooms again, but no one feels the desire to settle in. There's an unaddressed undercurrent of nervous energy flowing between them, and the minute their stuff is down they take turns showering and changing clothes with purpose.

Veronica feels it in her blood. Every unexpected noise draws her attention, as if Logan is hiding behind the dresser, or he's an employee in disguise. It makes no sense.

When everyone collects around her, she knows they're letting her decide what action to take first. They each have opinions, that much is obvious.

"What do you think, Veronica," Mac asks, her voice serious.

Veronica's breaths are insubstantial as she thinks. "I want to walk around first," she decides. "I think we should go from there."

They make a strange group, traveling through the streets of Yangon on foot. They're propositioned frequently probably because they look so lost. "Taxi? Taxi?" They shake their heads at the cars who try to draw their attention and keep moving.

Veronica pauses when they get to something like a town square. They've been wandering aimlessly for hours, and she knows that her friends are tired and hungry. Veronica is too nervous to be either. Her dad announces that he's going to get something to eat from the nearest street vendor, and Mac and Wallace follow him.

Veronica hangs back, standing in the shade made from an awning outside of a store. She looks behind herself, observing a tourist shop, full of knickknacks and nationalistic paraphernalia. Making up her mind impulsively, Veronica shouts for Wallace's attention and points in the store's direction when he meets her eyes. He nods and returns his attention to his food.

The store is awfully crowded inside, every available inch filled with stuff that doesn't interest her. Still, she wanders slowly, wondering what Logan would have done had he made it to Yangon himself. She thinks she's decided that they'll start the search here, and then perhaps spread out to the south if nothing pans out in the next few days. It's hard to think about that possibility. It's hard not to reach out to professionals, like the Navy, who probably have experience with this sort of thing.

They've made it very clear they have no interest in Logan Echolls anymore.

Veronica finds herself staring at a map of the Republic of the Union of Myanmar. She finds the city she's in, far to the north of the country, and traces the coastline until she sees the island Kabosa. It's very, very far to the south of the country, with nothing but empty stretches of land between. He could be anywhere. He could be in another country by now.

A sickening thought occurs to her: what if he had made it back to the US all on his own? What if they had passed in the air, like proverbial ships in the night, totally oblivious to the other's travel? What if he was sitting on her dad's porch right now back in Neptune, California, and she had completely missed him.

Veronica shakes her head and closes her eyes against the imagery. He would call her then. He could find help in Neptune, where he still had friends. Here he had no one, so this is where she would be.

She picks up a guide book and flips to the index, looking for any mention of a US embassy or maybe some sort of US Navy office. It is worth a shot.

There's a huge list of consulates, and she looks at them, indulging in wonder. If she had arrived in Yangon, and she were stranded, the first thing she would do would be to try and contact her family. Failing that she would probably go to some tourist section of the city, maybe find some English-speaking hotels or hostels and appeal to them for help. If she had no money, and she were smart about it, she would go to the US consulate. That's what they were there for, right? They issued US passports should you lose one, they would represent you in a court of law should you need a lawyer while abroad.

If Logan had made it to Yangon in any sort of good health, he would have stopped there.

She turns to the page identifying the US consulate on a map, finding it kind of funny when the book opens easily to the page as if it were a common selection. She has no idea where she is in relation to the embassy though, so she walks to the front counter to ask.

A woman is sitting behind the counter looking as if she really hates her job. Veronica pegs her in her late-40's, and she's watching a TV sitting behind the register as if it's the only part of her day she does enjoy. The glossed appearance of the people on the screen make Veronica think the woman is watching a soap opera.

"Excuse me," Veronica starts to say, tilting the page in the guide book to the woman to preempt what she wants to ask.

The woman looks at Veronica's face, then her outstretched hands. Her gaze hardens on the book and she makes a loud clicking noise with her tongue.

"No!" she suddenly shouts, and Veronica is taken aback by the strength of her tone. "You buy first!" the woman insists.

Veronica frowns and twists her lips together, digging into her pocket for the bills her dad had given to her. She tries to be neutral when the woman counts the money and finds it satisfactory. The woman purses her lips when she looks at the map Veronica is pointing to, and then she clicks her tongue again. She sighs laboriously, as if helping Veronica is a huge inconvenience, and then pulls over a larger map of Yangon. She says something that sounds a lot like "Ear" while pointing to one place, and something that sounds a lot like "You Ess" as she points to another. Veronica pays the woman for the map as well and then identifies both her current location and the location of the US consulate with a nearby marker. On a final thought, she drops some coins for the pen and brings it with her as she leaves the store.

Mac, Wallace and Keith are still eating when she gets out and they look like they're in heaven.

"Hey Veronica," Wallace calls out when he sees her, even though Veronica is distracted by her maps. "We bought you something, but if you don't want it, I'll eat it, because damn if this isn't good."

She barely glances up, more to make sure she's not going to run into anything than out of interest. "I'm good," she says dismissively, and she misses the way Wallace grins excitedly.

"Whatcha got there, honey," her dad asks, having already finished eating. She walks until he can see over her shoulder and then relays their position to him.

"I think we should check in with the consulate. They'll be able to tell us whether anyone matching Logan's description has been by, or we could ask them to keep a look out in case he hasn't made it there yet."

"Sounds good," he agrees. The get in the next taxi that stops for them.

"You would not believe the number of people who try to sneak their way past us," the woman – Susan – is saying. She's a bit on the curvy side, with small, beady eyes Veronica has a hard time having any faith in.

"You should have been here after Patrick Swayze passed, may he rest in peace," she added conspiratorially. "I have to admit, that's what really got me in trouble the first time. Someone came in claiming to be him and I was about to approve his passport application before my boss intervened, thank God." She adds quietly, "I almost lost my job for that one."

Veronica nods. She's heard stranger things, but she didn't come in to talk about Patrick Swayze or Susan's job security. "Right, but, no one matching Logan Echolls' description has been in? Really?"

"Nearly every day," Susan opines, as if it's a personal burden. "They're never any good though. Well there was one a few days ago, but you know not really. I remember because we'd had a meeting about the Echolls situation and possible imposters that very same morning. It just happens every time after someone famous dies or goes missing; suddenly everyone thinks they're smart enough to con the system and get US citizenship." She purses her lip like they're something bitter on her tongue. "It's just sad, really."

Veronica feels herself deflating, just a little bit. This is turning into a dead-end. "Well, thanks anyway." She tries to smile. "Do you think you could let me know if any other imposters show up?" She scribbles down her phone number on a piece of paper and pushes it across the counter at Susan. Susan smiles politely.

"You know you almost look like that girlfriend of his," Susan observes, her voice wistful. "Oh she is a pretty girl though. Blonder than you, I think, maybe a few pounds lighter too."

The polite smile falls from Veronica's face. "Well," Veronica says, trying not to say something catty but wanting to very much. "Inspiration for all of us."

Susan smiles obliviously. Her shoulders perk up quickly as if she's having a pleasant afternoon as she waves Veronica off with a few fingers.

Something about Susan is bothering Veronica, and she's not sure what it is. She's halfway to the door when she stops. Her unconscious mind had been filing away Susan's information…and something suddenly sticks out.

"Hey," Veronica starts to say, turning halfway around. "That one who came in here a few days ago…he looked just like Logan Echolls huh?"

"Oh, no, not really," Susan says disparagingly. "And he was far too rude to be Aaron Echolls' son."

A chill runs through her spine.

Rude?

"What happened to him?" she asks, and she's almost distracted by how suddenly quiet her voice is.

Susan tilts her round face, and looks at her carefully.

Veronica bursts out the front doors of the consulate and stares around wildly. She can't see Mac, Wallace or Keith, but her mind is spinning so fast it's a wonder she can see traffic.

She spots them, halfway down the block, eating ice cream in front of a kart.

They're calling out in her direction after they see her, all smiles and something or other, but she doesn't hear their words. Blood is rushing through her ears at a dizzying pace, the swish swish swish sound throbbing in time with her racing heart. She stumbles toward them, trying to move as quickly as possible. She doesn't stop until she can see the whites of their eyes.

"He's in jail," she breathes.

"Haha," Keith says, taking a final bite of his pink ice cream bar and throwing away the stick. "Very funny."

"I'm not kidding!" she yells, and suddenly the smiles melt from the three faces around her. This is suddenly not an absent sojourn through a new place. Suddenly everyone's aware that they're on a very real mission with a very real target.

"…Seriously?" Mac asks, and by the way the other two people are looking at her, Veronica judges they're thinking the same.

"The woman inside," she gestures vaguely behind herself, "she said that they got a shit load of imposters. They always do when someone famous dies. But she said that just a few days ago, someone came in and was a total dick to her."

She waits for everyone else to receive the information. Wallace leans back and twists his features together, about to say that rudeness isn't really an identifying quality.

"It's him okay!" Veronica shouts, desperately, because deep in her heart she believes it to be true. He's in jail. Of course he's in jail. Of course Logan Echolls could make it halfway across the world, survive a plane crash, survive a marooning, and still end up incarcerated.

She feels rush after rush of emotion and they fill her up from the tip of her head to the tip of her toes.

"Let's go!" she shouts, because she's lost patience.

"Go where?" her dad counters, matching the strength of her voice. Veronica spins her head to look at him, frustration spiking through her because all she wants to do is start running. "What happened?" he asks. "What did she say exactly?"

Veronica feels her fists and her jaw tighten. She wants to tell him that it doesn't matter, that they need to move, but she knows where her innate stubbornness comes from. She screws her eyes shut and tries to clear her head for her dad's sake. But her mind is spinning and her heart is racing, like she's had too much caffeine.

"She said," Veronica tries to remember. "She said, that he tried to tell her who he was. That he gave her some information anyone could've pulled off the internet. And that she'd called in the guards at the door to kick him out because he was scaring her, but that Logan had started a fight. He – he was resisting, so the guards took him away, told her they'd take care of it."

Everyone absorbs that information for a second. Veronica exchanges penetrating glances with Wallace, and Mac, and her dad. Her friends look bewildered, like they're just desperate for some sort of instruction, but her dad is frowning.

"Wait. Was he just arrested? Or was he actually formerly charged with something, and put in jail."

"What?" Veronica asks, not really asking what he means, just using her mouth to put a word to her confusion. "I don't know. She didn't say—"

"Veronica, I was sheriff for a long time. And I know I was never sheriff in Myanmar, but we have to think this through, and rationally speaking, we should be looking through police stations, not going straight to the nearest jail and banging on someone's door."

"No—" she tries to say again, her heart squeezing inside her chest.

"What are we going to do? If he's in jail, what are we going to do about it sweetheart." He's looking at her sadly. "And what if…what if he was simply hauled into a police station, not charged with anything, and released."

Veronica realizes there are tears in her eyes. Is her dad making sense? She's not sure. Her emotions are overriding logic and rationale and she can barely think straight she feels so overwhelmed. Logan.

Her dad looks at her so sadly. "This is a lead, sweetheart. I don't want to mess it up."

Keith pulls his daughter into a light hug. She is stiff in his arms, not wanting to give in to him, not wanting to cede control. Logan's in jail, she tries to believe, but her former certainty is fading. "Let's do this right."

Veronica inhales a shuddering breath against her dad's chest. She thinks about what he says. Could he have been released? Could he be wandering around Yangon somewhere instead? Could the militia guards have taken him to some ravine and thrown him in…could they have dragged him behind the consulate and shot him in the head…

When her head sags against him, Keith knows they're both on the same page.

Mac clears her throat. When Veronica turns to look at her, she sees that Mac has the guidebook open in her hands.

"If we're going to start with the police stations, we should get going," she says. "This thing says there are at least fifty in Yangon proper alone."

Veronica pushes away from her dad's chest and takes the book from Mac, staring down at the list of police stations organized by district. Critical thinking as a skill is slowly starting to come back to her, albeit slowly.

"We'll split up," she decides.

Her dad puts his hand on the open page in front of her eyes. "No," he declares, and it's so firm a no that she doesn't find it within herself to argue. She frowns.

"Fine. Well then let's go already."

The first one is just two blocks away, so they walk to its location. Veronica takes the lead with Keith at her elbow, because with Veronica's head buried in her map and trying to navigate the maze of streets she's not watching very carefully where she's going. The second time she's almost hit by a car her dad swears loudly and rips the guidebook from her hands.

"Why wouldn't someone know if Logan was in jail already?" Wallace asks from behind, and Veronica doesn't turn to answer him.

"Someone doesn't want him found," she responds, and it's sobering because it's logical.

They'd know where we were even if we were 5,000 feet below water. Even if Logan had lost his suit after the crash, someone would have known where he'd washed up. They could have placed a false warning at the nearest consulates: Watch out for Logan Echolls impersonators. Logan Echolls is dead. Report any imposters to the local authorities immediately.

It's making so much sense to her right now, and a part of her is terrified that it's only because she has so many nerves simmering in her blood, because she hasn't slept properly in days, or because she hasn't been able to stomach food since Kathy's call. Her body had felt so empty inside, and a part of her wonders whether any idea of Logan being alive would have filled her up.

Should she not be believing in this?

Veronica comes to a halt in front of the police station and bites her lip as she looks up at its sign. If she hadn't been told what this was based on the map, she never would have known, because it's a nondescript storefront with letters spelling words that mean nothing to her.

Veronica shows Logan's picture to an eighth set of eyes. They look at her phone with a pinched expression, paying attention, wanting to say something along the lines of you shouldn't be here instead. This eighth man they've encountered shakes his head.

"No," he says, and Veronica takes in a shaky breath as her shoulders sag for an eighth time.

"Thanks," she says, turning off her phone. "Thanks anyway." She turns to face her dad and her friends, shaking her head sadly.

It's been three and a half hours since they've left the consulate. Three and a half hours of bleeding money through taxis, frustrated conversations in fragmented English with soldiering policemen who want nothing to do with them, and everyone's tired.

It's also getting late. The last rays of sunshine make the sky glow indigo outside, and Veronica knows they'll have to call it a night. She doesn't want the confirmation though, so she avoids making eye contact with Wallace, Mac, and her dad.

Veronica walks past them to the busy street outside the eighth police station and breathes in the fresh night air. She tries to imagine where Logan could be in that moment. The cold truth is that he could be anywhere. He doesn't have to be in prison, waiting for her.

"Let's go back to the hotel," she says, when Keith enters her peripheral vision. "We'll start again in the morning."

Her dad's lip tighten sadly, and he nods.

Veronica can't sleep. She has no idea how much she's slept in the last four days, but sleep doesn't find her now, in the dark, on her side of the room she shares with Mac.

She thinks back to the last two weeks of her life and wonders how she survived any of it. There was the haze of her despair, while she grieved for what she thought she lost. Then the panic of being found, her safety and the safety of her baby infringed. She tries to remember what she felt like before she was notified of Logan's death, how it felt simply to be pregnant and without him in her life.

Veronica curls around herself under the cold sheets, and tired tears leak from her eyes. Her face doesn't react to them anymore; they simply accumulate in her tear ducts, and then spill over, as if seeping from stone.

The vigor she felt when the cause of Logan's death was questioned; that had felt like real life. But the shock of wondering whether he was still alive…that was painful then, and it is painful now. She feels such crushing guilt in believing he was dead, and then feels so foolish when contemplating whether she believes in something that might not be true.

Veronica recalls what Mac had revealed the night before, after four weary travelers had come home with so much more work to be done.

Mac tilts her head away from the laptop, her eyes still on the screen. "Veronica, listen to this." She starts reading from an internet browser: "Insein Prison, located outside the city borders of Yangon, is controlled by the military junta of Myanmar. Consistently cited for crimes against humanity by human rights' groups, Insein houses many notable political activists, journalists, and other alleged criminals."

A chill runs down Veronica's spine. It's a desperate, terrified panic thinking that Logan could be suffering.

"Honey," her dad says, warningly, "it doesn't make any sense to go barging in there. We should check through the police stations first. They could have released him and sent him somewhere to find his way home. They could have—" he stops, pinches his lips together, and continues. "They could have done any number of things before they even thought to send him to jail indefinitely. Let's keep going with the police stations."

Veronica wants to agree with him. She wants to agree that Logan could very easily have been arrested, and then released, because assault on an officer was a charge she didn't want to think about, and according to Susan, Logan had accosted two.

She agrees like a woman who wants to believe.

Consciousness fades in and out until morning, when she can see the light of day curling around the curtains. She stands then, her muscles weak. Veronica almost doesn't want to get up, and she feels barely alive. But she'd made a promise to her dad, and to her friends, that they would continue today, so she pulls herself up and out of bed and wakes up Mac in the process.

As if she'd lost a big chunk of time, Veronica suddenly finds herself in a different room, watching Wallace, Keith and Mac eat bread with butter and jam. She looks around, finding other small groups of tourists doing the same, and then takes the plate of toast as it's passed to her.

She passes it along, not wanting any, barely catching the way her dad is frowning at her. She tries to look at him seriously. "I ate earlier. I'm not hungry now. I want to get going."

I want to get this over with.

Veronica is the first to get out of the taxi, and she stands on the sidewalk, staring up at the building looming above her head. Her dad pays the cab driver, and her friends follow her, standing to her either side.

"You ready?" Mac asks, but Veronica doesn't turn her head to look at her friend. Is she ready for another day of disappointment? Well. It's still early yet. This is only the first of at least a few dozen such places they have to cross off their list before they move on. The air is still cold with morning, and Wallace shivers to her right, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Veronica wonders why she doesn't feel the cold.

She takes a big step forward and walks through the open arch. It should have a door, just like the walls should have windows, but this building has neither. It's not the first such station they've seen in disrepair, and it won't be the last. This one is the farthest away from the center of town though. The linoleum floor beneath their feet is dirty and peeling, the man sitting behind the front desk looking bored and disinterested.

"Hi," Veronica says, and the way the man looks up at her makes her understand implicitly that he speaks no English. He's looks at her curiously though, as if he's not accustomed to dealing with tourists and like he's about to redirect her out of his building.

"Hi," she forges ahead, because she wants to interrupt him before he gets the courage to tell her where she wants to be instead. "I'm looking for an American. He would have been brought in five or six days ago. His name is Logan Echolls."

She takes her cellphone from the back pocket of her jeans. It snags on the denim, and when the waistband of her pants pull against her skin, she realizes they're looser than they were before. Veronica bites her lip and tilts her head down, tapping on the screen of her cell phone. Logan comes to life in her hands, and it's hard to see with the current state of her mind. She turns the phone toward the guard before she can get too caught up in the look of his face.

The guard peers at the picture within her hand, and he looks at it for a long time. He frowns, and then looks up at Veronica, and says something she doesn't understand.

"I don't—" she starts to say, even though he's talking over her. "I don't understand."

He's frowning really seriously now, and it bothers her. "Just say yes or no," she begs, pulling her phone back to her body.

The man's arm darts out and grabs her. It's so surprising she almost drops the piece of plastic she holds.

He's frowning, and his gaze is penetrating her eyes too deeply.

Veronica stops breathing. She isn't sure what to say. Fear is curling in her belly because of the way he's looking at her.

Because suddenly…she knows.

She knows that Logan has met this man.

Veronica gasps, and her voice is so small.

"You've met him," she whispers, and the man doesn't contradict her and he doesn't know how. Veronica's voice becomes louder, finds strength. "Logan was here, wasn't he."

Keith is instantly at her shoulder.

"Is this man here?" he demands to know. The Burmese man looks at Keith now, and then back at Veronica, as if he's suddenly unsure what to do. He stands from his chair and moves to leave the room, and Veronica and Keith both instinctively try to follow him. The man looks back at them with raised eyebrows, looking nervous. He shouts something in his language and motions for them to stay where they are.

Veronica and Keith don't exchange glances. They keep this man in their sights, as if he'll try to run and they'll have to chase him.

The first man comes back with a second. This second man seems already informed of the situation at hand, because he's frowning when he enters the room like he's gearing for a fight.

"You here for this man," he says. "This man no here. No here," he insists, and Veronica's blood burns in her veins.

"Oh don't give me that crap!" her dad shouts. "He's here! We all know he's here!"

The two guards look at each other. The first one is deferring to the second as if the second man is in control. They're looking more and more nervous by the second, and Veronica is growing more and more sure that they have secrets they're reluctant to tell.

"Look," Veronica tells the second guard, the one who might understand her. "I don't know who you think you have back there, but he's nothing to you." Her voice is ragged and recklessly sad.

"He is everything to me."

There is a blanket of silence throughout the room. Veronica looks between the two men. "Please," she begs them. She wants to grab them and shake them until they understand. "Please," she says again, louder, more plaintively, and even if they don't understand what she's saying, the sentiment is overtly clear.

Her dad takes in a ragged breath. He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws a small wad of Myanmar money.

"Here," he says, and he pushes the cash in the two men's direction. They look at it with interest and fear in their eyes. "Here, take it," Keith says again. "No one has to know," he reasons, and Veronica sees the way he stands, looking at the two men desperately, as if he's standing on the edge of a cliff begging for life.

"Here," he says, again, shoving the money at the men.

They exchange wordless glances, and Veronica has no idea what could be going on in their head. Her whole body yearns for them to reason with her and her mind twists her soul. She wonders whether it's really Logan they have. It could be anyone. It doesn't have to be Logan they're bargaining for, but in this moment, in the face of the mere possibility, she doesn't care. She can care later if they're wrong, if they're freeing some other American with brown hair and brown eyes.

The second man grabs the money from Keith's outstretched hand, and Keith withdraws as if he's stepping away from a mountain lion.

"We just want Logan," he says, retreating. The two men talk to each other, and Veronica feels reckless panic bloom within her. She wants to scream at them: What are you waiting for? But she holds back, her lower lip caught between her teeth as they converse to themselves.

"Okay," the second man says, and he looks deeply into Veronica's eyes. "Okay," he says again, and tears rise so fast and hard in Veronica's throat she's worried she'll choke with them.

"He not here no more." The air leaves Veronica's lungs. They might as well have socked her in the belly for all the visceral effect it has on her. "We move him," the officer explains. "Move him to Insein. He go bye bye long time. Four days there already."

Veronica doubles over, and tries to breathe.

"I knew it," she whispers, her voice completely raw. "I knew it," she says again, arms snaking around her chest to protect her vital organs. "I told you he was in prison!" she wails, because she's mad at her dad and her friends because it's their fault Logan had to spend another night there.

"Shh," her dad says, and as always he sees right through her. "It's okay honey. We're going. We're going now." He puts his arms around her and tugs her toward the door. They move like that until they're in the street, hailing any car that will stop.

She can't make eye contact with anyone. Her mind is a dangerous place, and it is hurling scenario after scenario at her. Veronica finally has to close her eyes against the imagery. Everyone else in the taxi is loud as the sedan speeds through traffic.

Is Logan dead, at this prison they're going to? How could she possibly free him if was still alive?

There are no options available to her. The US Navy will be of no help. The consulate for now does not seem inclined.

She remembers the man who met them at the airport with chilling ease. She has a feeling the US Navy would be more than willing to throw their weight around to ensure Logan stayed underground, metaphorically or literally. Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries not to think of Logan dead anymore.

It doesn't matter, she decides. What matters now is having Logan safe. What is terrifying to her is that she imagines they have one shot at this. If he is still alive, and if he is still in this prison…how many times can they appeal for his release without drawing attention? What can they do?

Whatever her thoughts, Veronica knows that the car can't move fast enough. She feels Logan getting closer with every passing minute, and in her soul she is so desperate simply to see him. Veronica thinks that even if she got to see him one more time that might be enough. But those are weak thoughts, she decides. Strength is needed of her now. So her hands curl against her thighs, and she closes her eyes and thinks.

More than once someone tries to draw her attention. The three people she travels with are talking over one another, periods of silent disbelief and panicked unease splitting their conversation. Veronica doesn't engage, and she doesn't listen. She thinks.

By the time the taxi has crossed town, and the driver has confirmed for the fourth time that this is where they want to go, Veronica is the first one out of the car.

Her friends follow her out, and one glance to her face shows them conversation is unnecessary. Her dad tries to detain her, but Veronica pulls her phone from her back pocket, and walks purposefully through the front door.

The walls here have windows and doors, and there are a few chairs in the foyer to accompany the front desk. The linoleum is still dirty though. The man who is stationed at this desk looks as if there is nothing left in this world to shock him.

Veronica squares her shoulders when she sees him. She taps her phone, Logan's picture glowing in her hand, and strides over to him with purpose.

"We want this man," she demands.

The guard looks at her blandly. Clearly he had seen many things more interesting than Veronica Mars in his life. His fingernails, perhaps. His gun. A blond, raggedy looking American with an entourage meant nothing to him.

He looks at the picture on the phone Veronica is thrusting into his face, and grimaces at its intrusion. With a laborious sigh, he makes a quick decision and stands from his desk. This is above his pay grade. He starts to walk away, and when no one follows him immediately he has to look over his shoulder and shout at them to follow.

Mac, Wallace and Keith exchange nervous glances as they follow Veronica and the guard. She would be considered "unhinged" if she weren't so clearly on auto pilot. The guard leads them through a series of hallways, the dirty linoleum looking cleaner with every step. They are getting farther away from the prisoners, Veronica deduces. They are getting farther away from Logan.

Eventually the guard stops in front of a door. He gives a warning look to Veronica's group and then knocks on and opens the piece of wood. Keith takes the moment to look around. There aren't any other people close by, and they're at the end of a long hallway. Escape would be unlikely if this adventure were to end poorly. He doesn't like the feeling, but he stops himself from complaining to his daughter. Keith is sure Veronica is oblivious to anything but the task at hand. Muttered voices are coming from inside the room.

"Should I even ask if we have a plan?" Keith feels the need to say out loud. Veronica ignores him. Mac and Wallace do not.

The door opens in front of them. It's the same bored guard as before, and he looks no more entertained by the four of them now. He walks past without comment, leaving the door to the room open behind him as some form of invitation.

Veronica takes a steady breath.

"Look tough," is the only instruction she gives them, before she takes the first step inside.

Keith looks stoically at Mac and Wallace, who look confused for a second. When Keith shrugs, Wallace and Mac try to follow Veronica's command as they follow.

The office is larger than it looked from the outside, and overstuffed. Large, ornately carved dark wooden furniture fills most of the room, with elaborately stitched tapestries filling any gap in wall space.

A man is standing behind a solid wood desk against the back wall. He is grinning at them, almost pleasantly, as if they've come in with his dinner.

He is balding on top, with thin hair combed back away from his overlarge forehead.

"Come in," he invites, in nearly perfect English. He gestures to the collected chairs in front of his desk. It doesn't go unnoticed by anyone that there are four, one for each of them. This room is clearly in this man's control.

Veronica walks in with her hand outstretched. "Natalie Forbes, your honor, it is so nice to finally meet you." The man takes her outstretched hand. "Everyone at the FBI speaks so highly of you."

The man with thin hair takes Veronica's hands with widening eyes. He still smiles.

"The FBI!" he says, clearly a little surprised by the turn this meeting has taken. "It has been a long time since the FBI has taken an interest in our little operation."

Veronica releases his hand to gesture at her associates. "I apologize for our lack of dress," she says, her voice sounding strong and confident. "Training mission." She makes apologetic eyes at him. "This is agent McAllister, Honda and Shafer."

Wallace is trying not to look impressed by his friend's ability to think on her feet. He wonders which one he is, and decides he's Honda. Look tough, he thinks to himself, setting his face in a careful frown. Life is never boring with Veronica Mars for a friend.

Veronica folds herself into the chair most directly across from this man.

"Thiha Zeya," he introduces himself, shaking Keith and Wallace's hands. "I run things around here, but you know that already or you wouldn't be here." Mac gets a small nod, as she's already seated to Veronica's left. Wallace and Keith take the remaining two chairs to Veronica's right, and Thiha finally sits down.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?" he starts by asking. Veronica looks at him tightly, unruffled by his confidence.

"Logan Echolls," she says. Her voice doesn't tremble when she says his name. She almost drops the ess sound, as if to imply unfamiliarity. "I believe he's in your care, and unfortunately we need him back."

Thiha examines her for a long time. Too long.

"Well that's inconvenient," he says. It's awful confirmation, and Veronica feels it burn under her skin. Her stomach sinks, and she fights not to cry.

"And curious," Thiha continues. "The US government gave us specific instructions to do whatever we want with him."

Veronica shifts in her seat, the information swimming in her mind, trying to distract her. Look tough. "And I'm sure you did," she agrees, flatteringly. "But you know how we love to change our minds. The Navy needs him. I've been sent by Johnston specifically."

Thiha frowns with his eyes. The look of recognition she was expecting, maybe the look of being impressed…she doesn't get any of that. Name dropping Skip Johnston isn't going to get her anything with Thiha Zeya.

"Well I'm not so sure I can let him go so easily," Thiha finally says. "I mean, he's been improving our English. Kiss my ass is a new favorite phrase among my guards."

Wallace chuckles before he can help it. Mac sends him a punishing glare.

Veronica smiles. "He is well known for his tongue, your honor," she says. Thiha's lips flatten, as if he finds her innuendo unnerving. Veronica finds it unnerving herself.

He steeples his index fingers in front of his lips, and then tilts them in Keith's direction. "Let me see if I have this right. Shafer, is it?" Keith nods, a tiny, polite smile on his face. Thiha points at Mac now. "McAllister?" Mac doesn't smile. She nods her head. "Forbes…" Thiha says, glossing over Veronica, who doesn't respond. "And, forgive me, Shonda?"

"Honda," Wallace corrects, but his grin is a little too eager, and when Veronica sees it the corners of her lips tighten.

"Right…" Thiha says. "Honda." He's trying it out against his tongue. Veronica doesn't like this tiny exercise of his. It feels duplicitous, and it makes her nervous.

"You're good with names," she observes, drawing Thiha's attention back to herself. Thiha nods, his grin wide.

"Names and faces," he returns. Three seconds pass by in silence while Veronica and Thiha stare at each other.

"You wouldn't mind if I asked to see your badges again?" Thiha asks, and Veronica's breath silently sticks in her throat. He hadn't asked a first time.

"Not at all," she counters easily. "But unfortunately, training exercise," she says as if it's any explanation. "Feel free to call someone if you need to though, to confirm our identities."

Thiha considers this for a long moment. He makes a playful lunge for the phone that makes everyone titter with laughter. Finally, he smiles at them.

"I want one hundred thousand US dollars."

The air in his office stills.

Veronica doesn't dare move a muscle.

Finally, she swallows against her dry throat. "That can be arranged," she says.

"Oh," Thiha says as if she misunderstood. "I meant now."

Veronica's eyes tighten ever so slightly.

"You know we're good for it," she says, her voice flat.

"Do I?" Thiha questions. "I mean, you have no identification. You have no paperwork. What's to prevent me from getting an angry call tomorrow morning asking what I did with the mouthy American citizen?"

The muscles in Veronica's jaw clench.

"You'll get your money," she says again. Give me Logan.

Thiha considers this for a moment.

"Do you know what I think?" he asks, rhetorically, because he's clearly not about to wait for their response. "I think I don't give a fuck who you are. I don't give a fuck what you want or why you want it." He's dropped his smile now, and he looks across the four faces in front of him in turn. "I give a fuck about getting paid."

"We don't have that much on us," Keith blurts. Veronica looks at him curiously. She knows her dad doesn't have that much period.

Mac sighs and moves on Veronica's other side. The girl leans forward, reaches into her back pocket, and pulls out a giant wad of Myanmar kyat. She pauses to look into Veronica's eyes, and then she pulls off her left shoe, tilts it toward herself, and shakes another wad into her waiting palm. She drops both onto Thiha's desk.

"That should do it," she says, and Mac leans back in her chair. No one moves.

"Oh fine," Mac adds, before she digs down the front of her shirt. She winces as her fingers scoop into the left cup of her bra and she pulls out a third wad of cash. "Take it all," she says, adding the bills to Thiha's desk.

Clearly, no one had expected this from Agent McAllister.

Thiha picks up the slightly moist cash and counts it superficially.

"It's not enough," he declares.

"C'mon man," Mac argues, a little too flippantly. "Consider it a down payment."

Thiha looks at her sharply. Clearly no one has called him man in a long time.

"Come back tomorrow with the rest and I'll decide."

Now Keith sighs, and it draws Veronica's attention when all she wants to do is start threatening Thiha's life.

He looks at his daughter as if she really, really owes him one, and then he starts unlacing his right shoe. He slips the sneaker off his heel, sticks his fingers inside, and pulls out a huge wad of hundred dollar bills. Veronica vaguely recognizes it, remembering the stash she'd seen in her dad's wallet back in Death Valley.

"Take it or leave it," her dad says to Thiha, dropping the cash into the pile. He looks like his old self, his sheriff self, and Veronica fights the burn of affectionate tears.

"We're not coming back tomorrow," Keith explains. "Tomorrow it makes more sense to move on without the Echolls kid. This is a one-time deal. Either you take this cash now and let him go, or we leave and never see you again."

Thiha clearly wasn't expecting this. He looks ruffled, and he's making quick decisions about whether or not to call their bluff in his head. But Veronica sees him counting the money in front of him with his dark eyes.

How much is there – a new car's worth? A gambling debt's worth? Veronica's sure she has no idea, but she's sure Thiha has already started spending the money in his head.

Is that small pile of money worth Logan's life to this man? What is Logan's life worth to her?

What she said to the policemen back in town reverberates in her head. Everything. He is worth everything to her.

"You aren't the FBI," Thiha deduces, looking at the money, and then looking at Veronica. "Are you."

Veronica takes a deep breath, but doesn't respond. She remains neutral.

Thiha grimaces and shakes his head.

"Oh, what the hell," he decides. "Why not."

The words echo throughout Veronica's empty brain. Why not. Why not. Why not.

She suddenly feels sick to her stomach. The muscles in her abdomen clench as if preparing for a punch, or preparing to help her vomit – Veronica isn't sure.

Thiha picks up the phone on his desk and punches in a number. He says something in his own language, leaned back in his chair, picking something invisible off his thighs. He listens, and gives instructions, and laughs. He returns the phone to its cradle, stands, and leans across his desk to collect the money.

When Veronica and company don't move immediately, Thiha looks at them expectantly.

"Well?" he asks, prompting. "Go on! Go take your precious lover of ass kisses."

Keith is the first to find the strength to stand. He looks Thiha in the eye as he reaches for his daughter.

"C'mon," he says. Clearly, they're all in shock.

"C'mon Veronica," he says again, and Thiha examines him coldly. Keith recognizes his mistake a moment too late. Thiha doesn't say anything. Wallace and Mac stand too, as Keith pulls on Veronica's arm to move her. She follows limply.

They move en masse into the hallway, Wallace leading the way. He seems to know where he's going so no one questions him, as stuttering steps grow surer, and feet start to move faster the dirtier the floor beneath them becomes.

Finally the hallway opens up into a room with an empty desk and a door leading outside.

"He could be calling it off by now," Mac gasps. "Shit! That was all the cash I had!"

Her dad is breathing hard. "I'll pay you back," he says, though no one believes him.

Mac, Wallace and Keith can't stand still, and they hover around Veronica like over-protective ants, unsure whether they should be running or not. Veronica sees Thiha's face in her head, glaring at them, recognizing that they'd played him, unsure what to do with such information. She should have given him more money. She should have brought fake badges. She should have better prepared for the knowledge that Logan was imprisoned here, because she is starting to hyperventilate with the knowledge that she could have come so close and fucked it up somehow, and tears are choking her from within with fear. It's a fear that she will see him, or she won't, she has no idea, but it's so consuming the three other bodies around her fade. She doesn't hear them anymore, even though they sometimes say her name, they pace through her field of vision as their hearts beat, and their lungs work to prepare them for anything.

There's a commotion coming from a door set into the back wall.

Everyone turns to face it, not knowing what to expect. They wonder – could they be arrested? Could they be killed for this? Could they really believe Logan could be coming to them, as if it was so simple all along?

The doors swing open. Two Myanmar guards in uniform are walking inside the room, pulling a third, sagging human being between them.

And Veronica gasps.

And it is such a quiet noise, that even though Wallace, Mac and Keith don't recognize who this third person is, Veronica does, so they know it's Logan.

Veronica bites down hard on her lower lip and the rest of the world fails to matter.

The light glows so brightly around him, that it is a wonder she is able to see through the tears in her eyes.

Logan stumbles between the men in uniform, his feet having a hard time finding solid ground. The guards drop him too suddenly, and Logan falters as he flinches away from them, trying to stand. She sees him notice they're not even looking at him. The guards are looking at her, and Veronica only has eyes for him. Logan spins slowly, away from them, and she's privy to the moment he recognizes her in this world.

His entire face sags open wide, shock and disbelief in his eyes.

Veronica tries to smile in some half-witted attempt to convince him she's real.

Her throat doesn't feel as if it's going to be capable of speech, but she opens her mouth anyway, because she has to. "If I have to bail you out of jail one more time," she threatens, and it's so quiet and weak a gesture that Logan's eyes widen with the truth of her. His shoulders sag. His weight shifts to his other foot, and then his feet take one stumbling step toward her. Tears brim around Veronica's eyelids, threatening to spill over. And then Logan takes another step. He stumbles toward her as if lost in a dream.

Tears pour over her cheeks. His skin is almost gray where it is not covered with dirt, and her heart squeezes so tightly inside her chest because she is so, grievously sorry.

Logan, she wants to cry out, but her teeth stick together as her whole body caves in on itself inside with the knowledge that he is real, that he is here, and that he is alive. Logan is absorbing her face with fear in his gaze, and she is too weak to break the contact. And just as she is about to find strength to reach out to him with her arms and he is so close she could catch him, Logan sinks to his knees before her. Veronica gasps, and Logan's arms snake around her waist, and he cradles his head against her belly and Veronica cries, oh she cries, she cries and cries and cries.

His grip on her slowly tightens as if he's slowly convincing himself that she's real. Veronica feels her shoulders shake as she laughs so weakly through such strong tears. Her voice can't make words anymore, her arms can't move from where they lay against his back. Surely this is real life. Logan grips her in a way that's almost painful, and then his head turns and he kisses her stomach through her shirt. He kisses her again, softly, just above his last.

He moves so smoothly up her body, and before she's able to recover from him his hands are on either side of her neck and her chin is tipped up and his lips slide against hers. It's such a fluid movement, as if everything inside his soul is flowing into hers, and they twist together as if finding one another for real. They kiss gently. They kiss again and can't pull away. The tears fall unbidden from her closed eyes, and Veronica doesn't care because they are thankful tears. Her whole body is sagged, her arms limp under the epic weight of missing him, as their lips barely touch. Veronica's hands elevate against gravity and rest against his arms, and they both melt into their embrace. Oblivion surrounds them as they give thanks to one other.

"Veronica," Logan finally says, and he's kissing her, and his voice is sad and longing all at once.

"I'm here," she responds, and his lips are on her forehead and her fingers are curling into his shirt and he feels too far away even though he's in her arms.

Tears billow from her eyes and her voice breaks as she says, "I missed you," because it's too simplistic a phrase to encompass all that she's been through. And Logan laughs tightly and he's crying too as he says "I missed you too," because his soul echoes hers and he sees her too deeply.

"I'm pregnant," she says, and it just falls from her lips and she's crying really hard now because it is all so crushingly real. She doesn't know how he'll respond but he just cradles her head in both his large hands and simply says, "I know."

Veronica gasps; it's the last thing she expected him to say, but Logan kisses her full on the mouth and she decides not to ask him inane questions like how or what he knows because he's kissing her with such joy. Such infectious joy. So she laughs though she cries and when he pulls back to look at her she tells him he smells awful. And Logan laughs back and again says, "I know."

They are staring in amazement at each other, because their story is amazing, and it amazing that they're together again.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asks quietly, and Veronica nods, and she looks to the people who came with her.

Logan sees them for the first time, and he's blown away to recognize Keith, and Mac, and Wallace. They looks like his fan club after all, but he realizes that they're here for Veronica, not him, and again he wonders what he did to make this absurdly wonderful girl love him.

"Hey guys," he acknowledges weakly, not letting go of Veronica for a second. They nod weakly back, and Logan tries not to stare because Mac and Keith are rubbing at their eyes. He looks back down at Veronica, and finds her staring up at him. He wants to kiss her again. He feels almost crippled with gratitude, inadequacy, and gut-wrenching love. He tries to smile, but it is hard to do at the moment. So he kisses her forehead again and whispers, "Let's go."

TBC. I have lost count of how many drafts of this chapter exist on my computer. To me, it doesn't feel perfect, but maybe it never will. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read this story. I hope this lives up to your expectations even in some small way. Please please please let me know what you think, and thank you again for reading.