DISCLAIMER: Characters of Veronica Mars, any recognizable dialogue, and the canon events of their storyline belong to Rob Thomas.

A/N:

Brief explanation of fic titles in this series: I like to play around with words that have multiple meanings or even function as different parts of speech.

Stall. Process. Commence.

I chose the word Process as the title for Part 2 not only because V goes through a process that year, but also because the act of walking in a processional (like graduation) is "to process."

… which led me to the title of Part 3: Commence. Graduation ceremonies are called commencement for a reason. At that point, a new season of life commences.

So … let the college years commence!

[

Chapter 1 occurs between mid-June and mid-August 2006 – the summer between Season 2 and Season 3.

Chapter 1

Last summer had been filled with travel and romance. In between Dad's book tour stops, I had spent as much time as possible with Eli. Yeah … I'd been working at Java the Hut, and he'd been working as much as he could while helping Letty. But every minute of his free time that had overlapped with mine, we were together.

The spark in our relationship had not cooled down after our relationship went public. Even though we didn't have that much time to spend with each other, our time together had been filled with verbal and physical expressions of love. We had been getting to know one another, each other's families and lives. If you only looked at the surface level, you might have thought that we didn't really fit together, but we did.

In my opinion, we still did.

But Eli had pushed me away.

I'm still not sure what made him think that he wasn't good enough for me – that I'd be better off without him, better off with someone else.

My heart ached, but I tried to move on. Not move on from him, but move on with life.

This was a season of my life I wanted to enjoy, to be able to look back on fondly. A high school graduate going on to college. I didn't want to waste time being sad – even though I was. I didn't want to waste time being mad at him for … well, quite frankly, for being stupid.

So I started my summer with the intent to enjoy it to the fullest. However, circumstances were not completely cooperative with my plan.

Wallace was busier this summer than he had been during senior year. He attended a basketball camp to up his game for college. He also worked as a counselor at a basketball camp for kids. During weeks he was not at a camp, he was working as a gopher at an engineering firm, where he was able to observe and ask questions. One of the people at the firm had taken a particular interest in him and offered to mentor him. Needless to say, he was enjoying his summer immensely, but he had very little time to spend with me.

Mac was busy running multiple web businesses, spending time with both of her families (including a three-week European vacation with the Sinclairs), and tutoring at a community center. So she did not have much spare time either.

While she was in Europe, she asked me to cover her tutoring shifts. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. Since it was summer, these students weren't working on specific assignments, but rather improving their skills in reading, writing, and in a few cases, reviewing math so that they were able to keep pace when school started in the fall. Watching the joy and pride on their faces as they finally got a concept or they recognized their improvement was amazing.

Although I had never had the desire to be a teacher, my experiences tutoring Eli and these kids at the community center made me understand why teachers would be willing to deal with all the crap that comes with their jobs. Being part of someone's learning process was immensely gratifying.

[

In the weeks after graduation – with everyone else busy – I was a bit lonely. So when Leo called, I agreed to go to dinner with him. A few times.

I continued to be clear with him that I wasn't interested in starting a relationship – beyond friendship, that is. He assured me that he just enjoyed my company – and that he was willing to wait around in case I changed my mind. But when your heart still belongs to someone else, it's not about "changing your mind."

Eli and I did not have much direct communication during the early part of the summer. Mac was frequently in contact with him about Neptune Trading Post and his progress toward opening his shop, since she was one of his investors. She passed information back and forth between the two of us – not so much messages for each other, more like news updates.

[

Since getting my P.I. license, I had a steady stream of cases coming my way, plus the easy money from background checks through the Get the Dirt website. I also helped out in Dad's office when he got buried under mounds of unorganized paperwork. A couple times, he made quips about adding my name to the door since I was often there. I'm not sure how serious he was, but it was nice to hear.

Although most of my TBI symptoms had lessened (or in some cases, had disappeared), I still had follow-up appointments with my doctor. If I overdid it, fatigue would knock me on my butt for a day or two. Generally, I was careful to not do more than I could handle. I suspect I would have been more tired this summer if I were working at Java the Hut or another job where I would be on my feet several hours at a time. It had been nine months since the bus crash, and I still felt its impact in my life. Physically, cognitively, emotionally, relationally. Some days, I wondered if I would ever get past it.

Usually, that happened on days when I had too much time on my hands. I became contemplative and introspective spending time alone. I not only spent that time thinking in general, but also thinking about and missing my friends – specifically missing Eli.

[

[

The first week of August, I got a text from Mac giving me a heads up that I might be hearing from Eli. Apparently, he had asked her for help setting up the reception desk and organizing his office. She was swamped with other stuff and had suggested that he contact me. She wasn't sure if he would or not, but she wanted to warn me that he might.

I hoped that he would. For multiple reasons. 1) I wanted to see him. 2) After years of organizing my father's office, I had learned quite a bit that could be useful to him. 3) Did I mention that I wanted to see him?

It was about a week later when I finally heard from him. First, it was a text asking if I was busy. When I said no, he asked if I had time to talk. I replied that I did. Then, there was a fifteen-minute delay before he called. I wondered if he was debating with himself about dialing my number.

"Hey, there," I said as I answered his call.

"Hey." He paused. "Um, Mac suggested that I call you."

When he didn't continue, I said, "She told me."

"Oh. So you know why I'm calling?"

"You need an extra pair of hands to help set up your office."

"Yeah." He sighed, seeming relieved he didn't have to explain the reason for the phone call.

"When were you thinking?"

"The sooner, the better. But whenever you've got time."

I glanced at the clock, which read 11:00 a.m. "I need to finish up something for Dad – which should only take me a few hours – but the rest of my day is flexible. So if you want, I could come over this afternoon."

"That … would be great. Gracias, Veronica."

"De nada."

[

When I got to his shop, he was sitting on the couch in his office, drinking a beer and reading something on his laptop screen. He gave me a quick tour of the shop, pointing out areas that needed my attention. I immediately noticed that he was missing some essentials. We made a list and then went shopping. I'm not sure how much he'd had to drink at that point, but he suggested that I drive my car.

After returning from the office supply store, we immediately got to work unloading the bags from the store. We chatted, but the conversation didn't go any deeper than small talk and casual, friendly banter.

A short time later, the bell on the front door rang, announcing the arrival of our pizza. Eli paid the delivery guy and then headed for the break room. I thought that meant he planned to eat in there, but he was just getting a beer from the fridge.

"You want one?" he asked.

Shrugging, I said, "Sure."

We went into his office and sat on the couch, pizza box on the small coffee table.

While we ate, we talked. He had already given me an update on his progress toward opening the shop. I had already told him a bit about recent cases – as much as I could tell, which wasn't much. Since he saw Mac almost as often as I did and school hadn't started yet, there really wasn't much else to talk about.

Except for our personal lives.

I did wonder if he had been dating anyone since our breakup. But I wasn't sure I really wanted to know. It would be difficult to get that visual out of my head.

Apparently, he had been wondering too.

"Have you seen Leo lately?"

After I finished chewing the pizza in my mouth, I swallowed and then took a sip of beer, considering my response.

"I have seen him since graduation. We've spent time together. But if you're asking if we're officially dating, the answer would be no."

He seemed relieved by my answer. I was monumentally confused. He had told me that he wanted me to go off and have a happy life, but it didn't seem like he wanted me to move on from him.

I decided to channel my nervous energy into something useful: taking the newly purchased office supplies out of their packaging. When he had finished eating, we arranged the furniture in a way that would allow him to quickly and easily get to the things he needed. I organized the office supplies, both in his office and at the reception desk. Based on my years serving as Dad's receptionist, I made a few suggestions that should make things easier for anyone working this particular reception desk. I helped him set up a filing system that would work for him now and grow with his business as needed. He provided extra hands when I needed them, but mostly he just let me do whatever I thought would work best.

I spent a significant amount of time rearranging the supplies in the closet until I was happy with the layout and how things fit. When I thought I was finished, I noticed that I had left some extra paper over by the printer after I had filled the tray. It only took a minor readjustment to get the paper to fit on the closet shelf.

After that, we gathered up the garbage from the office supplies – discarded packaging seemed to be everywhere, not to mention our trash from dinner. While he took a large bag out to the trash can, I put the finishing touches on his office – arranging the items on his desk, as well as straightening the calendar and certificates on the wall.

When he came back inside, I said, "Well, I should probably be getting home."

He asked if I was okay to drive. Although he had downed at least two beers since the pizza arrived, I hadn't even finished half a can. And it had been more than an hour since my last sip. So yeah, I was fine.

He walked me to the front door. He gave me a hug, but it was not a "friend" hug – not like Wallace would have given me. It was another one of those times that it felt like Eli was trying to communicate without using his words.

The moment was highly charged; the air nearly crackled around us.

As I pulled back and was about to say goodnight, he leaned toward me. At the last millisecond, I turned my head to the side.

He pressed his lips against my temple, as he inhaled the scent of my shampoo.

Much of the drive home, I was in a haze. It wasn't until I pulled into the parking lot that I realized that I had left without my bag. As much as I didn't want to drive back and I didn't want to deal with him again tonight, it would be easier than having to do it tomorrow.

The door was locked when I got there, which I expected. I knocked a few times before I saw him look out through the office doorway. When he saw that it was me, he moved toward the door to let me in.

I explained about leaving my bag. As I talked, I noticed that his eyes looked different. His mood was different too. When I walked back into his office to get my bag, I saw a bottle of tequila on the coffee table. I don't know how much he'd had since I left, but there wasn't much left in the bottle.

When I turned around to go, his body was blocking the doorway.

A few seconds later, the palm of his hand was on the side of my face, fingers through my hair.

His tone was thick with innuendo as he said, "I've missed you."

Then, he began kissing me. And I kissed him back.

He lifted me up and spun around. Before I knew it, we were on the couch. He continued kissing down my neck until he hit a spot he knew was particularly sensitive. He was trying to persuade me to stay. There was a time … that's all the persuasion I would have needed.

But that was then. This was now.

As much as I missed him, missed this, missed his lips on my skin – especially certain areas of my skin – I could not let this happen. Not when he had been drinking, and we hadn't resolved anything. Not when … he would probably tell me tomorrow the same things he'd said several times … and push me away again. That would hurt too much. So much more than it already hurt.

I gently pushed him away. His eyes locked on mine and I saw understanding in them. As I stood up to leave, he reached for my hand. Against my better judgment, I turned my head back toward him.

He was still sitting on the couch, gazing up at me. The look in his eyes tugged on my heartstrings.

Stepping between his knees, I placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "Go to sleep, Eli."

He wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my chest. This – this right here – still felt like home to me. But other than the fact that he missed me, I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

A couple minutes later, he loosened his hold on me, and I moved toward the door.

As he flopped back on the couch, he mumbled something about locking the doors for him. I took his extra set of keys so I could lock the deadbolt on my way out.

[

[

The next morning, he called and awkwardly apologized.

"Yesterday after I called you … I don't know, guess I was nervous about seeing you. I haven't had that much to drink in … a long time. I'd had a few before you even got here."

I wasn't sure what to say to his admission. Alcohol is not a solution to any problem. So I was glad to know it wasn't a regular occurrence. But what was he so nervous about?

"Veronica? You've gone silent on me."

"Sorry – lost in thought. No apology necessary."

He started to say something and then paused, finally saying, "Maybe I should be thanking you for not taking advantage of me in my drunken state."

We had a good laugh about it, but I still couldn't figure out what he was thinking when it came to "us."

[

[

After that night, Eli and I started spending time together again. I guess you'd say we were taking things slowly. We saw each other a few times a week, and we talked or texted daily.

It was a confusing time, to be sure. I couldn't tell if he was hesitant to resume our relationship or if he still thought I was better off without him. Or if something else was going on in his head.

I didn't want to push. I liked having him back in my life. But when we were around each other, it was difficult for me to keep physical contact at "friendly" level. Leaning against him on the couch watching a movie. Talking and stargazing while sitting on the bench swing in his grandma's yard. The hugs goodbye. The occasional kiss on the cheek. The loaded silence at the end of phone calls – when we would have said "I love you," but now it was just awkward.

I wanted more. I wanted things to be the way they were – maybe even better this time. I didn't think he was dating anyone. According to Letty, he had not dated anyone else since he broke up with me. (She volunteered the information one night when I was over for dinner.) But the way he acted around me was different – different than when we were dating, different than the early days of our flirtationship. Anytime I was over at the house, Letty always smiled – said she was happy to see us "together again." But we weren't really together. Not the way I wanted to be.

[

As fall semester was about to begin and his opening date was getting closer, we spent less time together. We still talked at least once a day.

During those conversations, I would intentionally try to encourage him and tell him how amazing it was to watch him build this business he had dreamed of starting. As much as I wanted to spend all my time with him, I tried to stay out of the way and let him focus on getting his shop open.

The more we talked, the more I wanted to spend time with him. When we did spend time together, it was hard for me to read how he felt about things. But since I would be staying in Neptune, things between us might actually work … if he'd let it.

A/N:

I'm hoping to get a few chapters posted in the next two months. I'm ready for them to be back together as much as all of you are. As always, feel free to "pester" me if I go too long between updates – knowing that there are people waiting to read the next chapter is both encouraging and motivating.

Thanks again for continuing to read this series!

~Jen

8 May 2019