Summary: AU All events set on year behind actual time on show. Weevil is 26. Veronica is 15. Weevil is hired as Keith's new assistant and romance blossoms between the two… but as the age difference would suggest, drama will ensue.

Chapter 1 – Maturity Years

I walked into Mars Investigations. I was supposed to help my dad this afternoon by answering the phones and filing papers. Nothing big, but I needed every penny I could get if I wanted to go to Stanford. It was my dream to become a private investigator just like my dad, Keith Mars. When I was younger I dreamt about being an agent for the FBI but I decided to make my dreams a little more realistic as time went on.

I walked through the door and saw my dad standing next to a man I had never seen before. He was Mexican, had many tattoos on him, was bald, and wearing a leather jacket. Had dad been working part-time as a public defender without telling me?

"Veronica, how was your day?" Dad asked me.

"Fine, who's this?" I asked. The mystery man smirked at my question.

"This is my new assistant, Eli Navarro. He's going to be working with us from now on."

"We can afford an assistant?" Though dad was the best P.I. in town, he didn't always get all the jobs he deserved.

Dad used to Sheriff in Neptune, California but after my best friend died and he claimed her father, a beloved business man, was his prime suspect, things went downhill. He was fired after being set up of leaking the scene of the crime online and now the county of Neptune isn't too fond of him. Or me. See, my friends gave me a choice. My dad or my friends. I chose my dad.

"We can afford one now. Plus, I don't want you worrying away about coming in here when you have your studies to take care of. Eli will be more than happy to take a load off of your work here."

"But I like working here. And dad, I need the money." I pleaded, this guy did not look very reliable, or trustworthy. He'd be stealing from the petty cash box in a week.

"No, you need to work hard at school so you can get a scholarship. You can still work here… just you won't have as much work to do or as many days to come in. Now, Veronica stop being rude and introduce yourself." Dad was frowning at me but I didn't care. Some guy is wearing a black wife-beater and sporting obscene tattoos on his neck and I'm offending him by not introducing myself?

"I'm Veronica Mars." I mumbled. "Eli." The guy responded. He held out his hand and I shuddered before shaking it. Who knows where that's been.

"Honey I have to go out to meet with a client so just show Eli around. I'll be back before your shift's over." Dad picked up his coat and briefcase and left me and Eli alone.

I don't know what he was thinking. This guy was bad news and my father had just left me alone with him. I wouldn't put anything past this "Eli" character. However, I did have my trusty tasor with me. That always gave me some reassurance.

"Your dad already showed me what I had to do. You can go to the mall or go home and watch MTV or whatever you usually do after school." Eli told me as he sat down on my chair as he fumbled with my stapler.

"And leave you here with all our wonderful money and other personal belongs," I said semi-sarcastically, "No thanks."

Eli frowned. "So what, I'm a thief? Pretty harsh words for someone you don't even know Veronica Mars."

"I know your make. Tough kid from the wrong side of town. Bad influence, bad motives, bad news. My dad might want to be nice and give you a chance but I can see right through you."

"How old are you?" Eli asked with a smirk as he put down my stapler and started lining up my paperclips.

"I don't see how that's relevant." I responded. I took my stapler off of my desk and put it on top of a drawer. The fewer things he got his hands on of my mine, the better.

"It's just… you seem to be pretty cynical for someone so young." That's where I draw the line. I am not young! 15 is basically 16 which is basically 18 which is the age recognized as an adult in this country. There is no way that I can still be described as young, especially given what I've gone through. Maturity wise I'd say I'm thirty-seven.

"I'm fifteen." I told him. He laughed. "Yeah, and that's young Veronica."

I shook my head. Was he so dense he didn't get what I was saying? I know fifteen sounds young but if you think about it, it's not. Especially if you think about my maturity-years.

"It's not so young. Plus I'm very mature for my age."

Eli had given up on lining up my paperclips and had moved on to sharpening my pencils. I like them dull as well. They write better than when they're sharp. When the pencils are sharp they break if you press to hard. Dull pencils are stronger. Obviously he wouldn't understand the science of pencils though.

"What a cliché. You think you're mature, but when push comes to shove, Veronica, you're a little girl who hasn't experienced anything."

"And what, you've had such a tough life that now you get the world, thereby allowing you to be cynical and look down upon those who figured that fact out earlier in life without having to ruin their life in the process?" I know, I'm being defensive, but he's acting like he's the only person in the room who's been through tough times.

He's not. Not only did someone murder my best friend less than a year ago (with the wrong person paying for the crime), not only did I lose all of my friends, not only have I become a total social leper to not only the teens of Neptune, but the adults and authority figures as well, but I was also sexually assaulted. Raped.

It wasn't one of those situations where the girl's walking home in the dark and she gets jumped and eventually raped as she a) struggles, or b) lays there praying that she gets out of the situation alive. No, nothing that graphic. I went to a party hosted by my former friends after my best friend (her name was Lilly by the way) was killed. I had one too many drinks and I don't really remember what happened next. I know I was drugged though. I also know that I woke up the next day in a strange bed, with no underwear on, feeling terribly sore. I have no idea about the who or they why or any of those details. And if you think things couldn't get worse for me… you're wrong. As I walked out to my car the word SLUT was written on the windshield. So I have had a tough year… I'm surprised Eli hasn't heard all of the rumours.

There was an awkward silence filling the room. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go into my dad's office (forbidden territory), I couldn't go home, and obviously I couldn't sit at my desk. All I had to do was wait for him to speak.

"So you're in the ninth grade of high school?" Eli finally asked. A little out of the blue, yes I'll agree. But I was just happy that a new conversation had been brought up.

"The tenth."

"What school do you go to? Neptune High?"

I nodded. "Unfortunately." Eli nodded, somewhat sympathetically. "I went there. I get it. The rich 09ers thinking they can walk on water. They still give out pirate points there?"

"Yeah. Wait, you went to Neptune?"

Eli nodded. "For six years. Math, I wasn't a big fan of it." I smiled. He was being nicer, maybe he deserved a chance. At least a mild form of a chance.

"How old are you?" I asked. If he could ask my then I should be able to ask him.

"Too old for you." He joked. I rolled my eyes, "You're hilarious. A regular Jay Leno."

"I'm twenty-six." He told me. I looked at him. He didn't look twenty-six. I mean, he looked like he was in his twenties, but not twenty-six. I would've guessed twenty-two. Maybe it was the shaved head.

"Hah! I'm older than you." I cried. Eli looked confused. "Want to explain pixie stick?

"Well in maturity years I'm thirty-seven, and judging by your previous joke your maturity age is probably around fourteen. Therefore, I'm older Eli."

"Call me Weevil." I raised my eyebrow. Weevil? That was a small beetle. If this was supposed to give him "street credit" or a "tough guy rep" I don't think calling yourself a small, pesky buy would be the way to go.

"Weevil?" I questioned.

"It's just a name I got… from a group of friends." He replied.

"A group of friends," I repeated, "What kind of group of friends?"

"I don't want to worry you with details Veronica."

I sighed. "Well whatever you determine as best for me… Weevil."

So although he didn't strike me as employee of the month, Weevil was defiantly… intriguing. I guess he could help with some undercover jobs. Though dad has tried to familiarize himself with the slang of my generation I don't think people would buy him as the tough new gang member or similar roles.

"So V, think you'd be interested in helping me files some… files?" Weevil asked with a smirk. He had a nice smile, maybe if he used it more he wouldn't look so intimidating.

"Sure." I said, smiling back. I looked at his eyes. They were chocolate brown. A very nice color.

So people's first impressions to me mostly always end up being true… maybe Weevil could be the exception. Probably not, but if dad hired him for some reason (that I still wasn't clear about), then maybe he was at least worth a chance.