Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars.

"You idiot. You don't antagonise men with guns. Haven't I taught you better?"

"I survived, didn't I? What's the problem?"

"The problem is, next time you might not be surrounded by an armed squad of FBI agents."

"Yes, but I knew they were there. I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"Cocky. You know, I'm rethinking whether it's safe to ever let you out of the house again."

Veronica stared her father down, head tilted slightly to one side. He blinked and cut another slice of the cake which now said "...elcome ...me".

"So, what else did you do over the summer?" he asked.

"Well, after your reaction to my last story, I'm quite inclined not to tell you."

Keith attempted to imitate Veronica's head tilt. She shook her head sadly.

"You're nowhere near as good as me. Don't try it."

He widened his eyes, like a puppy dog, and Veronica groaned.

"Fine. I went to a crowded beach, skinny dipped, then slept with three hot guys. After that, I went to a pub to engage in underage drinking."

Keith groaned. Veronica stuck out her tongue and ran to her room.

He walked to the door of her room, and watched Veronica unpack.

"So, you enjoyed it then?"

"Immensely."

Keith hugged his only daughter tightly.

"That's good, but I'm glad you're home."

A/N: This chapter is just introductory. Just setting the scene. Next time, I'll be going somewhere.