"C'mon, Cravinski, give me the money shot." Veronica muttered as she stared through the lens of her camera. The portly man looked around furtively, then got out of his car and scurried down a dark alleyway. Sighing loudly, Veronica followed suit and positioned herself behind a large bush, biding her time until Cravinski met his next client. He made a call, then lit a cigarette while he waited. She snapped a few pictures just in case they were relevant, or could be used in an anti-smoking campaign somewhere in the paper.

She could just see it now - Don't smoke, kids, or you too will become an overweight bookie deep in the mob's pocket. Just say no!

He looked up as someone else came down the alley, then started making gestures as he spoke. Veronica tried to shift around to see who he was meeting with, wondering why the rich denizens of Palm Valley didn't try to spruce up their shady alleyways with bright lampposts. Maybe some crystal chandeliers, while they're at it.

Palm Valley was about two hours away from Neptune, but between the elaborate movie-star mansions and the seedy underbelly, sometimes she felt like she had never left. But it had a nationally acclaimed newspaper, people didn't recognize her on the street, and she could pick her own assignments, so while it wasn't home, at least it wasn't Neptune.

Figuring she'd just have to risk it in order to see who Cravinski was talking to, Veronica crouched down and dashed to the next set of shrubbery for a better angle. She paused, hoping they hadn't noticed her, then cautiously poked her lens through the leaves and leaned in to get a better look at Cravinski's client. It was a good thing it was resting on a branch, because she nearly dropped her camera when his face swam into view.

Logan Echolls.

What the hell was he doing here? Last she heard, he was up in Silicon Valley, pretending not to run the tech company he had bought with his inheritance. It was doing well too, which everyone contributed to the acuity of his advisors, but she knew better.

After only a moment of hesitation, she began clicking away, capturing Cravinski talking to Logan, waving his hands at Logan, handing him a manilla envelope with Logan giving him a dark look, Cravinski poking Logan in the chest while Logan's fists tightened noticeably, then waving goodbye with a mocking smile. She turned her camera to follow Cravinski to his car, watching him chuckle to himself, clearly pleased with how everything turned out.

Once the goon had driven off, she swivelled back for a dramatic picture of Logan, standing backlit in a dark side street, face hardened with resolve and - wait, where did he go?

Veronica looked up from her camera, trying to figure out where the subject of her movie-poster worthy photo had gone.

"Veronica Mars. As I live and breathe." A familiar sardonic voice came from behind her.

Wincing, she plastered a fake smile as she turned. "Logan Echolls! Fancy seeing you here!"

He matched her tight smile. "Fancy that, indeed. How long has it been?"

She pursed her lips and grit out, "Clearly not long enough."

He tilted his head. "So. Out for a midnight stroll? Or perhaps just a late night stalk?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she replied, "You know, I'm all about taking pictures of the stars. They're just so pretty." She bat her eyelashes for effect.

"Their kids too, eh?" He winked.

Before she could come up with a suitable rejoinder, Logan yawned, stretched, then said, "Well, you better come in and have a drink."

Thrown, she simply repeated, "Have a drink?"

"Sure. I mean, after all, we both know that tomorrow you'll hunt me down, probably in some public area, and accuse me of a variety of crimes I didn't commit. I figure, why not do it from the comfort of my couch with some alcohol to ease the pain?"

Blinking, she watched him saunter off toward one of the houses down the street. He made it to the middle of the road before he looked over his shoulder and called out a single word.

"Coming?"

So she somehow found herself in Logan Echolls' surprisingly modest house in the middle of the night, sipping a snifter of brandy as he settled himself in a large armchair.

"So, fire away, Mars. What heinous deeds have I committed lately? Kidnapping puppies? Littering on the freeway? Oh, please say I stole the Declaration of Independance. I've only got one more to go before I get Blamed by Mars Bingo." He smirked at her as he held his drink at a jaunty angle.

Veronica tapped her finger against her chin in mock thought. "Strange, I just got this song stuck in my head. It goes something like, 'You're so vain, you probably think this story's about you…'"

He raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. Who's it about?"

She swirled the drink in her glass while she considered. It not that she didn't trust Logan… it's more like she didn't trust anyone, especially not with her stories. But when she looked up, she saw more in his eyes than biting sarcasm. An intensity that was easy to miss if you weren't looking for it - which Veronica was.

"Cravinski." She heard pop out of her mouth, and Logan looked as surprised as she felt.

Furrowing his brows, Logan leaned forward. "What'd he do to earn the wrath of Mars?"

Annoyed, she glanced to the side. "Nothing yet. I know he's connected to the Fitzpatrick branch out here, he runs numbers, and I think he's somehow involved in drug dealing, but I can't catch him doing anything." Her eyes flicked to the manilla envelope Logan had dropped on the table. "Unless he's added blackmail to the list."

Logan protectively moved the envelope closer, clearly unwilling to explain. Shrugging slightly, Veronica took a moment to look around the room. This was… strangely middle-class of him.

"I didn't know about this place." She remarked, trying to memorize everything about it.

He shifted in his seat. "No one does. It's in my uncle's name."

Of course. Definitely his maternal uncle, since anything with the Echolls' name attached received national attention. His own little suburban getaway. She couldn't believe she hadn't known he had property in Palm Valley. If she didn't know better, she'd say she was getting rusty.

When she met Logan's gaze, she was unsettled to see him grinning. "Admit it. You're annoyed that I successfully kept a secret from the all-knowing Veronica Mars."

Trying to hide the twitch of irritation that would prove him right, she stood up and looked down the hallway. "Where's your bathroom?"

He raised both eyebrows. "Are you going to actually use the bathroom, or just snoop?"

She attempted to look offended. "Snoop? I would never stoop to snoop. I'm just asking because I need to-"

"If you make that rhyme, I'm kicking you out." He interrupted, then got up. "Here. I'll show you the way."

He led her down the hall to a nondescript white door. "There you are."

She walked in, then turned back as he continued to stand there. "Are you going to wait for me?"

"Well, I wouldn't want you getting lost. You know, you have a habit of accidentally stumbling into people's rooms." He gave her a sarcastic smile.

She affected a look of injured innocence. "What, little old me?"

When he simply stared at her, she dropped the act and said, "Fine, but you really need to go. I get pee shy." She gave him a light shove, then closed the door.

She honestly had every intention of simply using the bathroom, and not sneaking anywhere. But when she came out the living room and Logan was gone, she called his name once, then old habits took over.

The manilla envelope was nowhere to be seen, so she wandered around the kitchen, scowling at how clean everything was. Did he hire a service? No guy on earth kept his place this neat. How was she supposed to find anything?

Spying a desk in the study, she glanced around, then hurriedly made her way over. After finding nothing but supplies in the drawers, she ran her fingers underneath the top and smiled in triumph when she heard the click of a secret catch.

No envelope here either, just a well-worn folder sitting in the middle of a shallow felt-lined drawer. Knowing there was a limited amount of time until Logan came back from wherever he went, she opened the folder quickly and tried to skim through the newspaper clippings.

Tried being the operative word, because the instant she saw them, Veronica sat heavily in the chair behind her.

"You know, you owe me twenty bucks. I figured you couldn't wait more than half an hour before you started rifling through my stuff, although I thought you'd go straight for my unmentionables." Logan remarked casually while leaning against the doorframe.

"These are my articles." Her voice carried no anger, only stunned puzzlement. When she looked up, she saw his eyes widen as he realized which drawer she was looking in. "Everything I've ever written. How-"

He rushed forward, closing the folder and sliding the secret drawer home in panicked haste. As Logan turned to her, one hand on the desk, the other on the back of her chair, she realized this was the closest they've been to each other in years. Since that morning, when Kendall had appeared behind Logan, draping herself possessively over him, derailing Veronica's confession and dashing any hope either of them had for a fresh start.

They both froze at the sudden proximity, her sitting in his too-big chair, him standing inches away. She was at once very aware of the way his hazel eyes focused intently on her mouth, how she was unconsciously leaning forward, how he smelled of spice and sandalwood, how his breath ruffled her hair.

"I don't want to lose you from my life either. And I'm not saying I'm ready to dive back into anything, but after graduation, let's make it a point to see each other. See where that takes us. I remember what you said about our relationship being epic-"

Kendall's voice invaded her memory. "Is that our room service?"

She jumped, startling both of them. "I should… it's really late." Logan stood back as she got up, staring at her in a way that made her heart flutter and tighten all at the same time. "I… I'm sorry." She mumbled, then made her way to the door.

The cold air helped calm her nerves, remember why she was here in the first place.

Clearing her throat, she slowly faced the entrance, watching Logan keep a deliberate distance between them, although she couldn't say if it was for his sake or hers.

"I… If you ever need-" she quickly traded the word 'anything' for something more appropriate, "help, I uh, work at the Mercury." She fumbled for a card and held it out to him, knowing he clearly was aware of where she worked, but it was something to say, something to do with her hands.

Slowly, as if not to frighten her, he stepped past the doorway and took it, fingers careful not to touch her, and she wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Veronica," Logan spoke, and she flinched at the weight behind it.

"I should go."

And just like every time she got too close to Logan Echolls, she ran before she got burned.

When she reached the safety of her car a block away, she leaned back against her headrest and let out a long breath, too full of emotions to name just one, unaware that down the street, a tall silhouette was staring after her, exhaling a heartbreaking sigh of his own.

A long time ago, we used to be friends…