Title: Forty Miles from the Sun

Author: Wynn

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Veronica Mars. They are owned by Rob Thomas, UPN, Warner Brothers, etc. and are used for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.

AN: This fic occurs after Weapons of Class Destruction, delving off into an AU, so any similarities between this and the last four episodes of season one are purely coincidental.

Many, many thanks to Arabian and Mia for lovely betaing. Their thoughts proved invaluable and without their feedback this fic would not rock half as much as it does.

Chapter One: The New Age Thelma and Louise

By: Wynn

"So, Thelma, where are we going?"

Logan. Wonderful. As if this little adventure wasn't going to be difficult enough for Veronica. She peered around the open trunk lid and spotted Logan standing at the front of her car, his hands in his jacket pockets, a small smile on his face. She shoved her overnight bag into the Le Baron's trunk and slammed the lid shut.

"We? Nowhere. Me? Away."

"So I gathered. Does this particular trip have a destination in mind or are you On the Road-ing it like a modern day Moriarty?"

"Nothing quite so beatnik, I'm afraid. I'm just staying with a friend for a few days while my dad's out of town."

Logan made a non-committal noise. He watched her toss her shoulder bag into the back seat, watched her move to the driver's side door. Veronica popped open the door and propped her foot on the floorboard. Then she looked at Logan, looked at her car, looked back at him, and waited for him to move.

He didn't move. Of course.

He rocked back on his heels and watched her watch him. His small smile widened into the typical cocky Echolls grin, and she suspected some of the frustration she felt could be detected on her face. Veronica resisted the urge to sigh. She also resisted the urge to commit some vehicular homicide while she was at it and chose to smile sweetly at him instead. Or her version of sweet anyway. "Can I help you with something?"

Logan smiled back at her, setting off every detective instinct she had. "Yeah. Yeah, actually you can." He finally moved, crossing the front of the car to stand opposite her next to the driver's side door. "You can answer something for me. Why would someone who's going to stay with a friend for a few days need road maps of Mexico?" His eyes flickered over to the passenger seat to the aforementioned road maps Veronica tossed in there the night before.

Damn convertibles with their damn openness.

"Hmm, that is a tough one," Veronica said. "But maybe the answer is her dad's a private investigator who occasionally needs to travel down to Mexico on business. And thus would need maps."

"Or maybe it's because she's not really staying with a friend at all. Maybe it's because she's going down to Mexico to find her missing ex-boyfriend."

Veronica crossed her arms over her chest and switched to plan B: defensive mode. "What makes you think I'm trying to find Duncan? Better yet, after the twelve rounds we had three days ago, what makes you think I'd even want to find Duncan?"

"Because you're Veronica Mars and that's what you do."

"Nice try, A for effort, but I'm afraid you're incorrect. Now, I'm late-"

"Cut the crap, Veronica. You're not late, and you're not going to stay with a friend. You're going to Mexico to find Duncan because that's what you do. Because you have a dozen files on your computer about the Lilly case and we both know that the contents of one of them spooked Duncan into running. So stop trying to blow me off. You're not the only one who cares."

Veronica debated telling Logan another lie, that she wasn't going to Mexico in search of Duncan, that she really was going to stay with a friend for a few days. But the look on his face made her decide against that. If she pissed him off by lying to him again, he could tell Mr. and Mrs. Kane about her search for Duncan, and Veronica knew thatwouldn't end well. That wouldn't end well at all. So she said, "All right. Fine. I amgoing after Duncan. But you can't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"I'm serious, Logan. The more people that know where I'm going, the more likely it is I'll be followed, and the more likely it is that Duncan will find out about this little rescue mission and run again."

Logan held up his hands. "I won't tell anyone. I swear."

"Good." A beat passed and then Veronica said, "Thank you," and she wasn't avoiding looking at Logan. She wasn't. He just had the sun behind him that forced Veronica to look away.

They stood like that for a minute, Veronica avidly not looking at Logan, Logan just as avidly looking at her, and then Veronica said, "Well, I guess I should be going."

And that's when he touched her. His hand fell onto her arm and she paused, mid-perch, half-in and half-out of her car. "Not so fast, sunshine. I'm coming with you."

Veronica forgot about the hand and the awkwardness and the kiss she'd already told herself she'd forgotten about as his words penetrated her brain. Her eyes flew up to his face as she said, "You're what?"

"Coming with you."

"No. You're not."

"Yes. I am."

"I don't think so, sunshine."

"I do think so. I'm as much to blame for Duncan leaving as you are, so I'm going with you to get him back. You can't stop me."

"Yes, I can."

"Short of running me over with your car, I doubt it."

Veronica reached into her coat pocket and removed her taser. She held it up for him to see and pressed the activation button. Blue-white electricity crackled between the twin prongs, and Veronica smiled as his eyes took in the show. "Oh, I don't know," she said, "I'm sure if I pray real hard and eat all my vegetables, God will show me a way."

Logan looked at her then at the taser. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. He said, "You wouldn't."

She said, "Try me."

He drew in a deep breath and looked to be on the verge of leaving when his face suddenly cleared and he shot Veronica a cat-ate-the-canary grin. "You know what, Veronica? You're right. The less people that know about your little rescue mission, the better. I mean, three people already know and that's two people too many, isn't it? Me. You. Your dad…" He let that hang in the air for a few moments, all the while studying Veronica's face. His grin widened and he continued. "Now, I know what you're asking yourself. 'How would Logan know that I told my dad about his only darling daughter traipsing off to Mexico all by herself?' And you know what the answer is? It's because I know Veronica Mars. I know she's not the type to lie to her old man. She's the responsible type. The-"

Veronica closed her eyes and sighed. "Get in."

"Hmm? What was that? Did my little ears deceive me or was that an invitation to accompany you?"

"Logan, get in the car before I use this to drop you like the bad habit you are."

"Temper, temper, Ms. Mars. Keep talking like that and I'll start to think you don't like me very much."

"At least you'll be thinking. And that is a start."

…………

One hour, ten minutes, and twenty-three seconds later, they were off to a rollicking start, Veronica thought. Stuck in a traffic jam thirty miles outside San Diego for the past twenty-five minutes, biding their time with long silences that gave new meaning to the word 'uncomfortable' and lame attempts on Logan's part to actually start a conversation. Which, on a normal day, would give Veronica cause for alarm because she and Logan never had conversations. They traded insults, information, and little else. Barring, of course, already forgotten about kisses at the Camelot Motel. But today, when their mission was to rescue her ex-boyfriend/his best friend/the possible murderer of her dead best friend/his ex-girlfriend/said possible murderer's sister, normal conversation was all but out of the question.

"What the hell is this crap?"

Yet Logan kept trying anyway.

Veronica sighed and said, "Franz Ferdinand."

"As in the guy who's death started World War One?"

"Yes. As in that."

"What, was the Hitler Revue already taken?"

"Hitler was World War Two." Veronica gave herself props for notadding a heartfelt 'dumb ass' to the end of that sentence. She rubbed a hand over her forehead in a vain attempt to massage her headache away, but it stayed firmly where it was, smirking at her from behind her eyeballs. She suspected the headache's smirk closely resembled that of the person next to her.

"Thank you, Professor Mars, for that exciting lesson." Logan started flipping through her CD case again, occasionally giving a derisive snort to some evidently offensive music selection. He reached the back cover in less that thirty seconds then tossed the case onto the floor next to his feet. "God, my sixty year old grandmother has better taste in music than you do."

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to stock up on White Snake's greatest hits, but, as I said, I thought this would be a solo trip."

"And if I'd known all you had to listen to was this emo crap and some angry girl music, this would have been a solo trip."

"The door's not locked. The car's not moving. You're free to hop out at any time."

Logan smirked at her. "And miss the chance to annoy you? It would take a far stronger man than I to pass up such a prime opportunity."

"You annoy me every day. You'll have another chance tomorrow. I promise."

"Not if you decide to ignore me like you have for the past three days."

Veronica stilled. She peeked at him from the corners of her eyes. He had one arm propped on the windowsill, one foot on his seat, and half his body turned toward her. She could almost see his eyes beneath the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Almost. If she looked hard enough. What she could see clearly though was the patented Echolls smirk on his face, and the sight of it made her blood boil. The sight of him made her blood boil. "And here I thought the vapid devotion of your equally vapid minions would keep your attention whoring ways satisfied. I guess I was wrong."

Logan didn't say anything. He watched her a beat longer, then shook his head and turned to look out the window. The last strains of Take Me Out died on the Le Baron's speakers and another uncomfortable silence descended on them like wool, thick irritating. Probably for the best, Veronica decided. They both needed a reminder that they weren't bosom buddies out on some weekend joy ride, and if she had to be the one to do it, so be it.

Still. She switched over to the radio as the traffic jam inched forward. Just because she had the headache from hell didn't mean he had to have one, too.

…………

Forty minutes later and half a second after rolling to a stop, Logan had the door open and was out of the car. Veronica watched him head for the gas station, his strides long and fast but unhurried. She doubted he'd ever hurried in his life. Except, maybe, that one time, but Veronica wasn't thinking about that one time. Her gaze followed Logan into the store, and she tried her best to clear her mind and focus on the issue at hand.

Over a hundred miles to go and a cranky, possibly homicidal ex-boyfriend at the end. Thinking about Logan wouldn't help either of those matters go by any smoother. Or faster.

Veronica eased out of her car. She lifted her arms to stretch out the kinks in her neck and back. Reaching for the gas nozzle, she selected regular, stuck the spout into her car, and waited for the numbers to start ticking away. Then she leaned back into her car to grab one of her maps. She didn't need to look at the map again; she knew her route by heart, carefully memorizing it as she had carefully tracked Duncan the past few days. But she retraced the route anyway just to be sure. She didn't need anything else to go wrong on this trip, especially not anything related to getting lost in Mexico with Logan Echolls.

Her cell phone chirped as her fingertip crossed the tiny black border. Tossing the map back in the car, Veronica unearthed her phone from her pocket and said, "I'm not there yet, Wallace, so don't even ask."

"I didn't call to see if you were," Wallace said. "But if you really want me to say it, I can."

"That's all right. I've already had more than my fair share of annoying chatter on this trip as it is."

"Have you been talking to yourself again? Because I know we talked about how creepy that is."

"No, I haven't been talking to myself again. I haven't been talking to anyone. Someone's been talking to me." At least he had been. Before. Veronica drew in a deep breath and said, "I kind of picked up a stray for this fantastic voyage."

"From the sound of your voice, I'm guessing that isn't a good thing."

"Not unless you consider being locked in a car with Logan Echolls for four hours a good thing."

"Only if he's bound and gagged in the trunk. Which I'm guessing he's not."

"No, he's not. Although I bet that's where he wishes I was right now."

"Say what?"

"Nothing. My mouth just got me into trouble again, that's all."

Wallace chuckled. "You seem to be making a habit of that lately."

"I thought we decided never to speak of that incident again."

"No. You decided. I did no such thing. Seeing the expression on your face every time I mention Echolls, kiss, or Camelot is just too priceless to pass up."

"I bet you'd love to see my expression now. Want me to take a picture and send it to you?"

He laughed again and said, "I'll pass. So how'd you get stuck with Echolls anyway? 'Cause if you were that desperate for company, I would have gone with you."

Veronica glanced over her shoulder. She could see Logan in the station, randomly pulling junk food off the shelves and shoving it into a basket. "He sort of blackmailed his way into the car. Threatened to call my dad and tell him what I was doing."

"Damn. He went straight for the jugular, didn't he? That must have been one damn fine kiss."

Veronica rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the pump. "He's not here because of me. Duncan's his friend."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Is there any particular reason why you called? Or were you just bored?"

"No. Your dad just called my mom, and I heard him tell her that he's going to try to make it back early. Like Sunday morning early. He wanted to surprise you, so he said he wasn't going to tell you about the change of plans."

More like he wanted to try to catch her doing exactly what she was doing now. Damn it. She'd been counting on that extra day in case something went wrong, in case Duncan moved on before she got to him or some other disaster happened along the way. And with Logan along for the ride something was bound to go wrong. It was only a matter of when. And where.

"Veronica? You still there?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the head's up, Wallace."

"No problem. I'll call again if anything else changes."

"Okay." The pump stopped and Veronica replaced the nozzle. She reached for her gas cap, nearly dropping at the screech of brakes locking before her. She looked up and found Logan facing down a black sedan. He raised an eyebrow at the front bumper, mere inches from his kneecaps, then continued his trek to her car, ambling away from the near collision with all the grace and superiority he could muster.

Which, of course, was a whole hell of a lot considering his hands were full of all the junk food money could buy.

"Veronica?"

"Got to go," she said to Wallace. "Talk to you later."

"All right. Good luck."

"Thanks." She hung up and stuffed the phone back into her pocket as Logan reached the car. He dumped the junk food into her rapidly filling backseat and then jumped into her car. Literally. Jumped over the unlocked door and into his seat.

"You know the door handles are there for a reason."

"Don't be such a prude. I didn't hurt your precious baby. Now get in."

"Hold on there, Trigger. I must pay for the gas before we can leave the ranch."

Logan shifted in his seat, reaching back for a bottle of Mountain Dew. "I got it. Get in." He twisted off the cap and took a long swig. Veronica didn't move. She continued to stare, one eyebrow arched in something. Disgust? Defiance? Desire? She honestly wasn't sure and that unsettled her more than the sight of that radioactive sludge making its way down Logan's throat.

Logan finally looked at her and said, "Christ, Veronica, get in the damn car before I leave your stubborn ass here. I'll let you pay for the next fill-up. Cross my heart and hope to die." At that, a diamond smile, hard and bright, appeared on his face, and Veronica finally got into the damn car.

…………

"So…" she said another excruciatingly slow half-hour later. She peered at Logan from the corners of her eyes and thought that his mouth twitching might signify him listening to her. "You don't like emo crap. You don't like angry girl music. You have absolutely no love for White Snake. What kind of music does Logan Echolls listen to?"

"So now you want to talk to me. After I've bought you food."

"Fastest way to a girl's heart." Logan cocked a brow at that and Veronica mentally slapped herself upside the head. Sometimes her mouth moved entirely too fast for her brain. She batted her eyelashes at him. "So one more Snickers bar and I'm yours, baby," she said, praying he wouldn't push the unfortunate slip of the tongue- either of them- any further.

He didn't. Unless Veronica counted the grin that blossomed across his face as pushing. Which she did. "All out of Snickers, honeybunch, but I think there's some blow-pops in the backseat."

"Wow. Again with the thinking. Is twice in one day some kind of personal record for you?"

"What can I say, Mars? You bring out the intellectual in me."

"Oh, so that was your intellectual side that smashed in my headlights? And here I thought it was your angry one."

Logan shot her a look from over the top of his sunglasses. "You put a cock bong in my locker and nearly got me suspended. I had just cause to be a little angry."

"A little angry? You threatened me with a crowbar."

"I did not threaten you with a crowbar. I threatened your car. There's a difference."

"Yeah, a four hundred dollar difference."

"What do you want me to do, Veronica? Say I'm sorry? You started it. Not me."

She hadn't started it. He had. Three months after Lilly died. But she wasn't going to unearth that particular can of worms. Not right now. Not ever. So she focused on the road ahead of her and tried to ignore the silence pressing in on her. Tried to ignore the tension in her body and the tension in her mind. Tried to ignore him.

One mile flew by. Then another. Logan's potato chip bag crinkled and he reached back for another Mountain Dew. Veronica straightened in her seat and watched the painted lines streak by in a yellow blur.

Then he cleared his throat and said, "I like the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Johnny Cash. The Beastie Boys back when they were cool, Tupac back when he was alive, and Rage Against the Machine back before they became whatever the hell they are now."

He drifted off and the silence returned, but different this time. It was thinner, softer, like brushed cotton. Veronica went over his list again and the beginnings of a smile formed on her face. "So, what you're saying is, you like angry boy music?"

Logan's eyes caught and held her own. A beat passed and then that grin of his appeared, the same one he flashed her back before this journey to the end of the world began. "What can I say? I'm an angry boy."

And the laugh bubbled out of Veronica before she could stop it. It hung in the air, snowflake bright. She could feel Logan's gaze on her and wondered what he saw, if she felt as different to him as she did to herself. Veronica peered into the rearview mirror, but the sight of her own reflection failed to capture her attention.

The black sedan behind them did.

Her breath caught in her throat, cutting off her bubble of laughter. She had ditched the 5 shortly after stopping for gas, taking a toll bridge to Highway 75 hoping to avoid some of the mid-afternoon traffic. It was possible the sedan was doing the same, possible it had some other destination in mind besides hers. Possible it was just enjoying the enjoyable scenery.

Possible but not probable. The sedan followed her far enough back so as to not attract attention but close enough to keep her well within sight. Veronica eased down on the accelerator. Her car picked up speed, five mph, ten, and the sedan fell farther back behind them. Maybe it wasn't what she feared it to be. Maybe she-

The sedan sped up, too.

Had Weidman picked up something on that damn bug of his? She'd been careful not to say anything about her plan to find Duncan in the house. She'd told Wallace about it at his house yesterday afternoon. She'd made a fake phone call to Mac confirming her plans to stay the night with her in clear earshot of the bug. She wracked her brain to see if she let anything incriminating slip, but she couldn't think of anything. Had her dad said something to tip Weidman off? Or did Jake Kane have someone following her all the time now?

"Veronica?"

Her computer had been acting up the last few days. Maybe they'd found some way to crack her firewalls and tracked her tracking Duncan? But if they had, wouldn't they be where he was now and not following her? And wouldn't Mac have found some trace of their presence if they had broken through?

"Veronica?"

The only other person who knew about her search for Duncan was Logan. And he only found out a few hours ago… next to her car. It would make sense. Bugging her car along with her bedroom. Her and her dad had checked the office for listening devices as well as the rest of their apartment, but she hadn't gone through her car.

"Veronica!"

Logan's shout startled Veronica from her thoughts. She turned to find him watching her, his sunglasses perched on the top of his head, eyebrows drawn together in something resembling concern.

"Sorry." She brought forth her best reassuring smile and said, "The Johnny Cash name drop kind of froze my brain. I never pictured you as the rhinestone cowboy type."

He didn't say anything. Just looked at her. She held his gaze and put on her best innocently puzzled expression. "What? Did the rhinestone connection offend you?"

A moment more of silence and then Logan shrugged. "Not me. I'm offended for Johnny. Johnny was no rhinestone cowboy." Logan flipped his sunglasses back down and continued his defense of Johnny Cash. Veronica looked back at the sedan again. She hoped she was wrong, hoped that the dread in her stomach was there for no reason, that the sedan was just an anonymous sedan and not Weidman in disguise.

She hoped, but she doubted it.

…………

One thankfully uneventful border crossing and then they were in Tijuana, Shangri La for underage American teenagers everywhere. Veronica spotted the sedan a little more than half a mile back, stuck in the wrong lane, the inevitable one that crawled along slower than a snail on Christmas. At least ten minutes behind Veronica, give or take. Ten minutes before her stalker crossed the border and could continue following her. Ten minutes in which Veronica would be out of sight and could search her car for the probable bug and tracking device. If she hurried, if she somehow got Logan to not think she was a total paranoid nutcase and help her, she might be able to swing it. In any case, this would probably be her only shot of ditching the sedan, so she pulled off the main highway and into the first available parking lot. The Hotel Palacio Azteca. The lot was half-full. She searched for a space in the back, out of sight of the main road, finding the perfect one between two minivans.

Logan peered back at the hotel, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Duncan's here? The Pal-"

"No. He's not. I'm, ah, just not feeling very well. Too much sun and junk food, I guess. I just need to pop in and use the restroom. No big." Veronica opened her door and dropped down onto the ground. She peered under her car, searching for the tracking device, cursing herself for not having a flashlight within reach.

"Veronica? What-?"

"I'm okay. Really. Just need to get to a bathroom."

Nothing. Damn. Where was it? She didn't want to waste time by digging through her trunk for a flashlight, but she couldn't see. Couldn't-

"So why-?"

Veronica held up a hand, signaling for Logan to shut up, and somehow, miraculously, he did. Come on, come on, there. She slithered under her car and pried off the flat black tracking device attached to the Le Baron's undercarriage. Then she eased back out and up and found herself nose-to-nose with Logan. A very confused and irritated Logan. He opened his mouth to speak, but she covered it with her hand and shook her head. Then she stood and said, "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything."

He scowled at her. She beckoned for him to follow her, and when he didn't, she grabbed his hand and yanked him from the car, reaching up to cover his mouth again as he swore at her. She dragged them both away from the car, stopping after a couple hundred feet and hoping it was far enough.

"Okay, listen," she said as she turned toward him. "We don't have much time, and I need you to listen to me without interrupting." She didn't wait for him to answer her. Just held up the tracking device and continued. "This is a tracking device. It was stuck to the bottom of my car. Someone's been following us since San Diego, probably since Neptune, hoping we'll lead them to Duncan. I think my car's been bugged, too, and that's how they knew we were going after Duncan and not just on some weekend joy ride. Now, I only have a couple minutes to search my car for the bug before whoever's following us gets here, and I need you to help me."

"Veronica, what the hell-?"

"I'll explain everything later, but for now just shut up and help me."

She spun around and took off for her car. Once there, she switched on the radio, turning the volume up to Logan loud, and started her search, shoving her hand beneath her seat. She felt along all the edges and crevices, pressed up against the bottom of the seat, swept her hand across the stiff grey carpet of her floorboard.

The passenger door opened and Logan appeared. He stared at Veronica a moment, shook his head, then stuck his hand under his own seat. Veronica moved to the back, searching under the crumpled plastic wrappers and empty soda bottles. She tore through her shoulder bag, inspecting all the pens and pencils for plants, running her hands over the lining for suspicious bumps or ridges.

She felt a hand on her arm and looked up. Logan held her Pirates parking pass, the one that hung from her rearview mirror every single day. Attached to the back was a small listening device, identical to the one Clarence Weidman hid in her room a few weeks ago.

Sometimes Veronica truly hated being right.

…………