A/N: For those who don't feel like reading the first story in this series, "What is Past is Prologue", here's a synopsis: Veronica and Logan were 26 and living in New York, but hadn't been in contact since the end of freshman year. She is an FBI agent, working undercover with her partner Adam. She is also living with her boyfriend of three years, Charlie, who is a novelist. While Veronica was out of town on assignment, Charlie was assigned a new editor, Logan Echolls. Charlie and Logan became friends, not realizing they had another connection.

Of course our characters meet up and things start out tense between Veronica and Logan, but they eventually settle back into being the friends they once were. Until events conspired to put them in a situation where Logan had to take care of her, then help her on a case. All that time together had to bring up old feelings, right? She and Charlie broke up, he and Logan had it out, and after a few months of being apart to make sure she was really over Charlie, Veronica and Logan got back together.

This story takes place four years later, so we can see what Happily Ever After looks like for them. My OCs: Veronica's partner Adam Rogan, his boyfriend/now husband Trent, Charlie McGeary - Veronica's ex, Henrietta (Henry) a tall redhead Logan went on a date with once, and then became friends with, and Deputy Director Henry David, Veronica's boss.

As for the fic title, it comes from the old song of the same name, and I think the lyrics suit this story well. So, where does LoVe stand after four years….

Chapter 1

Stealthy and watchful, Veronica opened the door and listened for any sounds of movement before tiptoeing into the dark house and closing the door behind her. She winced at the slight sound the latch made. When she heard the beep of the alarm pad, she hurriedly skittered over to it and entered the code, and then held her breath. Hearing no sound, she let it out and grinned, which morphed into a groan when she felt the press of a warm body against her hip. Quickly, another body hemmed her in from the back and she knew she was busted.

Almost three years ago Logan had surprised her with not one, but two, of the ugliest puppies she'd ever seen. He shot down every argument she had against keeping the creatures, and she considered it the best fight she'd ever lost…

She eyed the box suspiciously as he set it on the floor of the den. They had had many discussions about his extravagant tendencies, and it seemed they were about to have another. Then she realized the box had holes around the top. And was moving. And was…whining?

Logan gave her a shy smile and asked, "Well, aren't you going to open your birthday present?"

With an affected air of nonchalance, Veronica smiled at him. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it will keep until after dinner. Adam and Trent should be here with the food in about an hour. Do you want something to drink?" she asked as she walked past him toward the kitchen.

He laughed at her. "You think you know what's in there. But you're the predictable one, remember? I still have a few surprises up my sleeve."

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she quickly ran across the hardwood floor and fell to her knees in front of the box. Logan knew how much she missed having a dog. Since they had moved into this ridiculously huge house, she had dropped many hints about expanding their family. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her once she opened her present.

Two, TWO, squirmy puppies were scrambling all over each other trying to climb out of the tall box. They were both smallish, about the size of a full grown Chihuahua. But proportionately, their feet were huge. Their fur was a shaggy mixture of white and brown patches, and both sported odd sprigs of coarse gray hair. Their dark eyes were surrounded by patches of black fur. One had a long skinny snout while the other's was short and rather square. They had black noses, floppy ears, dark eyes and longish tails. The phrase 'so ugly they're cute' instantly came to mind. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and asked, "Um, what the hell kind of dogs are these?"

Logan grinned and squatted down to pick up the short snouted one and hug it to his chest. The hug became an effort at restraint as the puppy tried to climb and lick his face. He laughed and explained, "What you are looking at are the offspring of an ill-fated match from the dog park. Molly, a Saint Bernard, fell for Hank, a mostly Irish Wolfhound of questionable parentage, and got in a delicate condition."

Putting the puppy in her arms he reached down and grabbed the other. "Happy Birthday, Veronica," he said, leaning in to kiss her. The kiss turned into a family affair when the puppies squirmed and stretched up to contribute to the exchange.

Veronica couldn't help laughing, but someone had to be the voice of reason. "Logan, do you have any idea how big they're going to get? We can't keep one, much less two, dogs that size in the city."

He put his puppy on its back and used his hand to begin a wrestling match. Veronica realized how much thought Logan had already put into this when he explained, "I'll run every day, and they can go with me. This house is over four thousand square feet, and the dog park is close by. I already got the number of a highly recommended dog walker to help us out. They'll get plenty of exercise."

She tried again, letting her puppy down to join the wrestling match. "Logan, you've never had a dog before. They take a lot of work. Chewing, housebreaking, training…it's practically a full time job."

He looked at her, his mouth tightening in the early stages of annoyance. "And I can do work a lot from home. I have the time. What's the problem? I thought you wanted a dog."

"A dog, yes. One cute, average-sized dog like Backup. These are…hideous." Veronica grabbed one of the puppies and held up its paw to illustrate her next point. "And they'll be huge. And double the trouble. They are really sweet, but they need to go back," she insisted, and placed her hand on his arm in consolation.

Her heart sank in defeat at his next words. "The lady I got them from won't take them back. She said if we changed our minds to just take them to the pound." He grinned, "Besides, I think they're perfect for us."

The corners of her mouth twitched at that. "Um, perfect how, exactly?"

Logan looked in her eyes and gave her a sweet smile, the kind that melted her resolve every time. "They are the result of the heart getting what it wants."

So they had kept the puppies. At first the training didn't go well; Logan was far too indulgent with the whelps. After she made him picture her trying to wrestle two huge, untamed hellhounds that individually weighed more than she did, he managed the training with a firm and gentle hand. The result was two of the sweetest, most well-behaved dogs she'd ever known. They always greeted her with subdued joy, no matter what time of day or night she came home.

All she wanted to do tonight was crawl into a nice warm bed and sleep for three days; however, having been gone for over two weeks, familial obligations must be met. She reached her hands down and gave a scratch to each of the furry creatures, and then made her way to the stairs in the dark. The dogs followed, but stayed back a few steps so they wouldn't trip her.

Their bedroom was on the top floor of the four story house, and it took every last ounce of her energy to make it up the last few steps. She entered the dark room, quietly removed her jeans and socks, and then slipped into bed, wearing only her t-shirt and bikinis. She breathed a sigh of relief as the dogs settled quietly onto their own beds.

"Nice try sneaking in, but I woke up when the boys went down to greet you," Logan admonished, and scooted over to snuggle into her side. His arm draped across her waist as he burrowed in to place a kiss on her neck.

Veronica let out a low laugh. "And you couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. I think I'm being taken for granted here. At least Hat and Mc still think I'm worth getting up for."

Logan moved his head to chuckle and whisper in her ear, "Oh, you're worth getting up for all right. I'm just so good I don't have to get out of bed to do it." His hand on her waist began to roam northward. "In fact—", he stopped when he heard her slight gasp. His tone instantly changed from teasing to demanding. "What's wrong, Veronica?"

She tried to play it casual. His reaction was predictable and she was far too tired tonight. So she teasingly complained, "I've been gone two weeks without any midnight groping sessions. I haven't assimilated yet. And I'm really wrecked. How about you let me sleep and we get reacquainted tomorrow?"

Logan reached behind him and turned on the bedside lamp in answer. The inspection he conducted was done with a tight jaw and hard eyes, cataloging the damage this last case had wrought. Her mind did a mental tally of all her injuries during his examination: a bruised cheekbone and ribs, scraped jaw, fingerprint marks around her right forearm, and a broken left wrist. She'd had worse, but not since they had gotten back together four years ago. He'd done well refraining from complaining about her job, though she knew he hated the danger element. However, a broken bone definitely upped the ante. After a few moments of tense silence Veronica decided to try for levity, so grinned and told him, "You should see the other guy."

He countered, with no trace of her humor, "Oh, I'd like to. As a matter of fact, I'd like to have a few minutes alone with him."

Veronica sighed. "Logan, I really can't do this tonight. We arrested the bad guys and I got a little banged up in the process. The case is closed and I'm exhausted. The doctor said I need to rest so, please?" she begged. She hated using his concern as a bargaining chip for sleep, but she was desperate.

His brow furrowed with worry, but his anger wasn't tempered in the least. Logan nodded and turned out the light, then snuggled in next to her again and stroked her hair until she dropped into oblivion.

When Veronica woke, his side of the bed was empty. Raindrops fell against the roof and windows in a muffled rhythm, and the sunlight coming in the windows was gray and muted. The clock showed she had slept for a mere six hours. Though she was tempted to snuggle deeper into the bedclothes, the pending conversation was more pressing. She pulled on a pair of sweats, a cardigan and slippers, and then went to find him, dreading the thought of more stairs. Today this house had far too many stairs.

Logan was living in a high-rise, penthouse apartment when they reconciled. She had just moved into a modest third-floor studio befitting her newly single status and budget. Though he had been adamant about their living together, she had been just as adamant about keeping her own place for a while. Having just broken up with a man she'd loved for three years, it seemed wise to slowly ease back into a relationship with Logan. Living together just felt like too much too soon, and she needed to stand on her own first. After six months, she gave up her lease and moved into his deluxe apartment in the sky. And hated it.

The penthouse was very modern, and very beige. She loathed how every room bled into another with no clear delineation. Once you crossed the foyer it was just a football field of living room, kitchen, and dining area. The floor to ceiling windows offered a bird's eye view of Manhattan that made her feel too removed from the city she loved. Logan tried to sell her on the fully equipped gym in the basement, but she couldn't have cared less. All the amenities just made it feel more like a hotel than a home. They came to a compromise; she could pick a home to her taste, as long as it lived up to his standards.

Three months of house hunting had turned up a gem in the Treadwell Farms district. The neighborhood was distinctive for mostly consisting of single family homes of similar architecture and height, all built in the 1800s. The townhouse was painted dark red with newly installed black trim windows, a black front door and black railing on the stoop. Climbing the stoop and entering the front door for the first time, Veronica felt it. Home.

Every floor was a rectangle, approximately twenty feet wide by forty feet long. From the stoop entrance she walked into the second story; an undivided living room with a wood burning fireplace, high ceilings and crown molding that looked to be original. Its two back doors opened onto a terrace that gave a view of similar houses in the neighborhood, as well as looking down on a plush garden right below. At that point she was ready to call Logan and have him issue a check on the spot, but bid her time until the tour could be completed.

The interior stairs were located on the left side of the house, directly across from the front door. The realtor led her up the stairs to the third level which consisted of two bedrooms, one in the front and one in the back. Each had its own bathroom, fireplace, walk in closet and a three window arrangement for natural light. Between the two rooms was a laundry room and extra closet for storage.

As if that weren't enough, they headed up to the fourth story. At the back was the master suite and a gorgeously appointed bathroom. There was a double sink, a shower stall, and a large porcelain tub big enough to fit both of them. The front room was a home office that overlooked the street and would be perfect for Logan. She didn't think it could get any better, but gamely followed the realtor to check out the first story and basement.

She hadn't noticed it from the outside of the house, but the first floor had a separate gated entrance at street level that opened directly into the kitchen. In contrast to the other, lighter, floors of the house the kitchen was much darker and more opulent. The wood of the cabinets and appliance facings were a glossy, dark variegated variety the likes of which she had never seen. It was a chef's kitchen with sub-zero refrigerator, two sinks, two dishwashers and six burner range. The marble countertop extended so that barstools could be placed at the edge to make it an eat-in kitchen. They ate most of their meals at that counter because the formal dining room was ridiculous for only two. The walls and stair rail were carved from a rich mahogany and the fireplace was so pristine it had to be decorative. There was both a chandelier and recessed track lighting to brighten up the dark space, and a hidden powder room. Beyond the dining room, the den served as a marked contrast. The walls were white and the terrace floor above had a walk-on skylight, so natural light poured in at this level. The back wall was made entirely of sliding glass doors which allowed a view of the well-tended garden.

The basement was a just basement, but offered ample space for stashing bikes and other sports gear, and setting up free weights for Logan. Veronica called him the minute the tour was over and he put in a bid for eight million dollars, sight unseen. Another bidder made a higher offer and, after much back and forth, Logan handed over a cashier's check for almost nine million. He had insisted he wouldn't live anywhere that was worth less than seven, and she couldn't image a better bargain than this gorgeous house. Except on days when she was feeling like this and had four floors and a basement to explore looking for him. Her old studio sounded wonderful on those days.

Veronica walked into the kitchen just as Logan came in from a run. Her nose wrinkled in response to the smell of wet dog that quickly filled the room; the three of them were soaking. Logan grabbed a few towels from a cupboard and quickly dried off McCoy. When Veronica tried to tend to Hatfield, wincing as she bent over, Logan grabbed the towel from her and finished the job. Once dry, the dogs padded off to the den, most likely to sleep for the next couple of hours.

He dried the floor and stripped from his wet clothes, making a pile on the ceramic tile rather than drip water through the house, then scooped it all up and headed for the stairs. On his way he stopped to give her a chaste kiss and said, "I'm going to shower and dress, then I'll be back down." At her nod he headed up and left her to her anticipate the conversation that would to follow his return.

A/N: Please review! I'm a bit of an email stalker and it makes my day when you guys respond and let me know what is working for you, or upcoming plot points you are curious about. Thank you!

A/N: BETA needed. Not only am I doing this for fun, I'm also trying to improve my writing skills. I haven't had a lot of luck getting a beta reader through the site, but if you are interested please PM me (don't put it in a review). I'm looking for someone who has strong skills in creative writing and can not only proofread, but can (somewhat kindly) point out how I could improve. My goal is to post a chapter a week, so I need someone who can respond to a new chapter within a couple of days, giving me time to make changes.