Weevil bypasses the coffee entirely as they cram into a dark little side booth at Java the Hutt, where he orders two giant pastries. Veronica calmly sips her latte and watches him demolish both in about five huge bites, hiding a smile. It's just such a normal teenage boy thing to do, and she knows better than anyone that it's been a long time since either of them have been normal teenagers.

"So what have you got for me?" he asks finally, wiping crumbs from the corners of his mouth.

"Got a few things," Veronica responds teasingly, just to see that eyebrow go up. But then she shrugs, getting down to business. "Not too much. I've got one lead I'm looking into, but right now the Rooks investigation is at the forefront." Weevil shoots her an accusatory look, but she heads him off at the pass. "She's not getting any deader," she says gently. "If there's one thing I've learned it's that charging straight ahead and ignoring everything else isn't going to get us anywhere. It didn't work for my dad and it sure as hell isn't going to work for me."

"What's the lead?" he asks, not agreeing or disagreeing with her viewpoint. She doesn't push it. She knows that almost manic sense of determination. She's been there, fingers playing over the worn edges of an out-of-tune music box the same way Logan's fidget with the lighter clutched deep in his pocket. She doesn't always like the guy, but she can sure as hell relate. Something clenches in her stomach, and she makes a face. Empathy. Hell, where did that come from? She must be getting soft.

"Could be nothing," she answers carefully. "I'll let you know if it pans out into anything." Duncan is a touchy subject, despite everything, and she'd rather not reveal any of his deep dark secrets to someone that barely knows him unless there's a good reason. She feels a bit guilty, having just promised to let him in and already keeping things from him, but she pushes it down as she sets Carrie's file on the table.

"In the meantime, we've got this," she says. "Do me a favor and keep your ears open? It's all anyone's talking about, and I'm sure most of it's crap, but there's got to be something that someone saw or heard. High school kids are not known for their discretion."

Weevil nods, flipping idly through past report cards and teacher evaluations, but his eyes keep wandering to the entrance.

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Veronica teases. When he turns his attention back to her, he's got the raised eyebrow again that she's becoming kind of fond of.

"Shouldn't that be my line?" he counters. Veronica shrugs. Both of them are pretty close to bottom-rung at Neptune, but at the end of the day he's got more clout than she does thanks to the PCH'ers, people that actually care where he goes and who he goes with. She's got Wallace and scare tactics and that's really about it. She concentrates on stirring her drink because it's easier than looking him in the eye as she comes to the terrifying conclusion that she'd actually miss having him as a friend if he suddenly decided that his gang was more important than finding Lilly's killer.

"When my mom died, Felix convinced me that she had faked her own death," Weevil says quietly. Veronica's head whips up, eyes slightly wide, because there are a million different places this little meeting of theirs could have gone, but this was definitely not one that was ever on her radar of possibility. He's looking straight at her, idly crumpling a napkin but meeting her eyes.

"What happened?" she blurts out, knowing it's probably not the right thing to ask but overwhelmed by curiosity despite herself.

"Drive-by. She got caught up with some loser, ended up in the middle of a gang war. Berto was there when it happened, watched them wrap her up in a body bag and everything. But me and Felix, we were kids. So we came up with this story about how she had set the whole thing up herself, and now she was drinking pina coladas on a beach in the Bahamas. How she'd send for me one day - a coded message, of course, so nobody but me would know where she was - and we'd live happily ever after." He snorts, but there's no bitterness behind it. "Kids, you know?"

"I think we all tell ourselves lies," Veronica answers carefully. "At least for awhile. Makes the big stuff easier to swallow if we don't have to accept it all at once." Weevil nods, gaze straying to the exit once more.

"I'm just saying. I kind of really hate the guy, but…" He doesn't finish the thought; then again, he doesn't really need to. Veronica feels another pang of regret for those normal lives they never got; her, shopping for a prom dress with her mother. Weevil, patiently letting his dad teach him how to fix his bike. Lilly, with a whole new crop of boys to terrorize as a college freshman. It's not something she likes to dwell on, but it lurks in the back of her mind no matter how much she tries to chase it away. Things were not meant to happen this way.

The feeling is still there three days later, when Weevil pulls the LeBaron around to the front of the prison and she slides into the passenger's seat. Girls her age are supposed to be texting and drinking and flirting, not visiting convicted murderers (who aren't really murderers at all). But this is the hand that life has dealt her, and though there are better ways to have spent an afternoon than talking to Abel Koontz, it's also the biggest lead she's had yet.

"What did he have to say?" Weevil asks, and she turns her head to look at him. Really look at him.

She didn't really know what to expect when she brought someone else on board. She's still being cautious, not revealing her entire hand, but that's just habit and self-preservation. Having someone else on the inside means that she has someone to talk to about this, someone to pick her up when her hands are shaking too badly to be driving anywhere and someone who remembers the great things about Lilly and the things that made you want to kill her - and doesn't hold either against her. It's more of a weight off of her shoulders than she realized, to have someone else in her corner that knows, and that cares. It's been a long time since she let someone in so completely, and if she's not careful she might just concede the fact that it feels good.

Still not having gotten an answer, Weevil glances over at her to find her staring back. "What?" he asks, self-consciously. Veronica shakes her head.

"Nothing."

When they get back to the school parking lot she tells him everything. He drinks it in, sitting astride his bike, and something like a grin crosses his face. He recognizes it for the big break that it is, and they agree to sleep on it, mull it over, before jumping into planning their next move.

But for now, she rolls down the window, and breathes.