Thanks for your awesome reviews, follows, and favorites, guys! Here's Part II - I hope you enjoy it.

Happy reading! :)

Mars injured recovering son of local businessman

SAN DIEGO, CA – Keith Mars, former Neptune County Sheriff and current detective with Mars Investigations, was injured Saturday evening when his car hit a streetlamp in the Logan Heights neighborhood. Mars was in San Diego on a case, working to find Rodney Goodman, son of former Neptune County Supervisor Woody Goodman, who had disappeared a few weeks prior. Mars was admitted to San Diego's Paradise Valley Hospital ICU. His family has declined comment, but reports have been released stating that he suffers from a punctured lung, broken bones, and
»» Please see MARS, Page 3

14 APRIL 2010
"Okay, I know that you proposed again, and I have my ring back, so this is supposed to be like a second honeymoon or something, but that doesn't mean you need to carry me into the bedroom," Veronica teases after her husband scoops her into his arms. "Besides, you know as well as I do that beds are wholly unnecessary when it comes to sex."

"Yeah, but I've got a surprise for you," he shares, a shy smile on his face, and her heart breaks a little at the sight. She's missed this side of him – the happy, eager-to-please lover that did whatever he could to illustrate the depth of his feelings.

"Sneaking my wedding ring into your luggage wasn't enough?"

"I'll have you know that one of the airline security personnel tried to extort a proposal out of me. You're just lucky I'm so devoted to you," he informs her with a smile as he places a kiss on her forehead.

"Yes, I'm very lucky that you didn't allow yourself to be swept off your feet by a woman who offered to upgrade your airline seat to super-first class if you would marry her," Veronica snarks in return.

"I will have you know that Buzzy is a very beautiful woman," he returns. "However, I was a bit intimidated by the fact that she's a good six inches taller than me. I tend to prefer my blondes short and feisty."

"Mmmm, lucky me," she replies.

He sets her on the edge of the bed and traces his fingers up her calves before finally freeing her feet by unzipping, removing, and then placing her leather boots on the plush carpeting. She wiggles her toes in response, trying to wave at him with her feet in a way. He lays a gentle kiss on one ankle, and his mouth slowly moves upwards. His hands, however, are reaching underneath her body, unzipping her skirt and likely preparing to toss it into some remote corner of the room.

Not that she'll complain. No, she's pretty much in favor of anything that will get the both of them naked as quickly as possible at this point.

And then he rids her of her skirt and her slip and her underwear in one fell swoop. He may not be practicing this move much anymore – at least, she hopes not, given the circumstances – but she thinks that he'd compare the action to that of riding a bike. It's just not something he'll ever forget how to do.

Of course, since his mouth is working diligently at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, she's not going to be complaining about that anytime soon. Or saying anything intelligible for that matter.

When the warmth of his mouth moves from her leg to her abdomen, she wants to yell and shout or at least say something. But Logan's mouth is very skilled and thereby also very persuasive. He's making short work of both her blouse and her bra – even though he isn't quite able to toss both aside with a single movement. Still, it's fast enough that she hardly registers the movement of her shirt over her skin.

Granted, the fact that he's keeping her focus on the feel of his lips and tongue and teeth on her lower abdomen helps just a bit.

Now that she's naked and – literally – writhing beneath him, he slowly kisses his way up her body until their mouths meet in a searing kiss, and he's covering her chest with his own.

She's unbelievably glad that she'd stuffed his shirt somewhere in the anteroom – probably in between the sofa cushions – but she wishes that she'd had the foresight to get him naked before coming in here.

Of course, knowing Logan, since he was so fucking determined to get her into the bedroom, onto the bed like this, he probably would have had some inane objection. Then again, if he had been naked on the couch, she probably would have fucked him right there.

She feels her nipples pebble against his chest, and she loves the sensation of his back muscles moving under her fingertips.

But then he's moving away, and she tries to object, but only some garbled nonsense passes her lips. She tries to put her thoughts in order, to get her mouth to listen to what she's trying to say. Which, honestly, is along the lines of "." Or … something like that, anyhow.

"Do you remember our wedding night?" he asks from across the room, and she wonders what the hell he is doing over there when she is naked and aroused and right here.

She props herself up on her elbows, pulling herself from her wonderful erotic haze as she forces herself to respond to his question. She'll make him pay for this later, somehow.

"If you have fondue over there, I think I'm going to have to remind you that superficial burns are still not any fun, even after almost three years have passed," she warns him.

"Not fondue. I learned my lesson, trust me. Honestly, though. Strawberries are sexy. Chocolate is sexy. Why not combine the two?"

"Because superficial burns are not any fun," she repeats with a smirk.

"Yes, I learned. Bad newly married husband trying to be romantic," he returns, rolling his eyes. "But that's where your other surprise comes in."

"Which is?" she asks warily.

"Chocolate frosting?" he tries, presenting a container in one hand.

"Really?" she queries eagerly, before blushing and feeling like an overeager adolescent. "I mean, that might be okay."

"Oh, you try to play it so cool, Veronica Mars-Echolls," he responds, ambling towards her as he sheds his remaining clothes and drops them onto the floor. "But I know the real you. You might say you love me, but I know you only want me for my chocolate."

"Am I that transparent?" she teases. "I mean, Lyle, you're the only one I've ever loved."

"Lyle?" he asks, contorting his face in mock-horror.

"Leonard?" she guesses with a smirk. "Luke? Lionel?"

"I'm beginning to think that I was right, missy," he warns. "I may need to sit over here and enjoy this chocolate frosting all by myself."

"Awww, I'm sorry, Lar – Logan. I'm sorry, Logan," she apologizes. "Now get that fine ass of yours over here and show me what you can do with that frosting."

"Your wish is my command," he complies happily, practically bouncing towards her in his excitement.

He perches on the bed beside her, and she sprawls out in what she thinks is a seductive pose, wondering what part of her he'll paint first. He opens the container and covers one finger with gobs of frosting. He hovers over her stomach for a moment before moving his hand over her chest, and then he's moving back down towards her legs, and she just when she's about to burst from anticipation, he licks the frosting off his finger himself.

Well, that's just not fair at all.

She watches him carefully lick his finger clean, and she wants that same mouth working to remove frosting from her body.

Desperate for a taste, she pulls Logan's mouth down to meet hers, and her tongue plunges into his mouth, loving the heady sensations filling her sense as she inhales Logan's musky scent and tastes the sweet chocolate of his kiss.

"That wasn't very nice, Veronica," he chastises her a moment later, a playful smirk covering his features.

"Ithought married people were supposed to share everything," she returns. "You can't just keep all that frosting to yourself."

"As you wish," he responds with a grin, reaching into the container and covering his hand with frosting. He smothers the gooey chocolate all over her body – from her neck down to her thighs – and she's anxiously waiting for him to begin to taste the new sweetness of her skin.

She can feel his tongue and lips moving carefully, steadily along her skin, and she wonders if he's doing more than just enjoying the chocolaty goodness. Not that she cares all that much. She has what she wanted – Logan's lips teasing and playing and lavishing over her skin.

And then he's stopping and stepping back, and she wants to wring his neck. Afterwards.

But he's got such a proud grin on his face that she can't help but wonder what the hell he just did. So she raises an eyebrow, knowing that she's pretty much beyond the capacity of speech by this point and figuring that he knows her well enough to understand what she means.

"Look," he instructs, pointing at her chest. "You're mine."

She nods mechanically in response. Of course she's his. If he's only now figuring that out, she may really need to reassess his level of intelligence.

"No, look," he insists, pointing again, more urgently this time.

Reluctantly, she props herself up on her elbows once again and is surprised to see that Logan's mouth was very careful in its ministrations, clearing only select parts of her skin to create a single word.


The L is curving around her breasts and the S is scrunched tightly below her hipbones, but he has clearly marked her as his. And, lucky for her, he's avoided the typical alpha-male pattern of using bodily fluids to mark his territory.

"I love you," she whispers, raising her arms and urging him to come back towards her, closer, again.

And then he's lapping at her chocolaty skin again, and she almost wishes that they could have taken a picture of his artistic creation. Not that either of them could have kept it or anything, seeing as how connecting the name 'Logan' to either of them would be too much of a risk.

Still, his actions were sweet and romantic, and she loves him even more for them. It's amazing how each time she loves him as much as she is capable of loving anyone, he goes and does something that only makes her love expand even more.

"Forget the chocolate," she murmurs. "I want you. Now."

"I believe that I was promised the chance to investigate your curves," he teases in return. "I let you try to mold me like clay. At the very least, I get to explore your body with kisses."

She heaves a sigh of great frustration, but she isn't frustrated – not really. Sure, she is getting more and more aroused with each passing moment, but this is the delicious sort of torture that she misses when they are apart.

Once he's done cleaning the delicious mess he made, he's moving back up and whispering in her ear, "I love the way you taste."

Before she can counter that it was the chocolate he was tasting – not her, he's moving back down her body again and kissing the apex between her legs, and she thanks God or whoever it was that gave her this wonderful man in her life. She'll tolerate months of solitary life for fleeting moments like these.

His oh-so-talented tongue is moving in and out, tasting her folds, and she doesn't know how much more of this she can take. She was already close to the edge after his erotic game of frosting art, and his skilled mouth is making it difficult for her to breathe and filling her with a warm, heady feeling. It's not much longer before she feels her muscles tighten with her impending orgasm, and she lets out a low moan of appreciation.

Once she comes back to herself, he is moving his hips between her legs, and she wraps her legs around his back to urge him closer, faster, now. He's moving in and out, and she loves how Logan introduced her to the world of multiple orgasms years ago.

Yeah, this is absolutely excellent.

He's thrusting into her, the force of his body causing her to jerk around on the bed, almost like a puppet, but she doesn't care and hardly even notices. All she cares about is Logan's long, hard cock, and how it's causing her temperature to rise again.

And then she's shouting something – likely unintelligible – and while her cognition of her surroundings is hazy, she's peripherally aware of Logan's continuous motion until he jerks into her one more time before collapsing heavily on top of her. While he's nearly twice her size, she finds the weight of his body comforting, soothing. She knows that with him nearby, she's safe, protected.

"I love you," she whispers before nipping his earlobe lightly with her teeth, which elicits a low groan from him.

"Love you too," he mumbles, shifting onto his side and pulling her into his arms.

Great sex followed by dozing in Logan's loving arms. Life just doesn't get any better than this.

Happy birthday, honey! Never forget how much
I love you and how fondly I remember the day
we said our vows at St. Michael's church.
XOXOX 5/12

19 MAY 2007
"Yeah, we're on our way back to Neptune, Wallace. We're, what, maybe halfway there?" Veronica spoke into her cell phone, aiming the last question at her companion.

"Something like that," he agreed, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yes, Wallace, Logan is treating me well," she replied to her step-brother's apparent question. "Yes, Wallace, we had a good honeymoon."

In his opinion, 'good' was putting it mildly. He'd whisked Veronica away to one of his family's many vacation homes – this one along the Oregon coast – so that they could have a few weeks alone together before they put their plan into action.

As he listened to Veronica laugh and joke with Wallace, he thought back about the past two weeks. They'd had so much to do, and it sometimes felt like they didn't have enough time with which to work. Of course, since they knew that they were only had a limited amount of time remaining before everything changed, it made the days fly by that much faster.

He'd spent the last few weekends flying to two different parts of the country, gathering the proofs of identity and age that they would need to take on their new personas. Birth certificates had been easy enough to get, but their state ID cards had taken a little more work. However, after a little finagling and loophole-searching, they both carried Idaho state ID cards that featured their new appearances.

His hair was a deep, dark black now, and he wore contacts that colored his pupils the hue of the sea. His fingers ran over his jawline as he continued to drive down the coastal highway, and he was still surprised at the feel of the stubbly facial hair.

It had taken Veronica some getting used to as well. After he stopped shaving, she giggled in a very un-Veronica-like manner every time he kissed her, complaining that he was tickling her skin. Of course, since it would have been out of character to do otherwise, he followed such statements by physically tickling her with his fingers until she was squirming beneath him.

And from there, it wasn't long until she was more writhing beneath him – still, perhaps, instigated by his fingertips, but with a whole different aim in mind. To please, rather than to tease; to love, rather than to play.

He glanced over at her, still unable to believe how different she looked with long brown hair. He'd seen her go undercover before, wearing one of the many wigs that she and her dad always had stored away for those sorts of situations, but when she emerged from the bathroom with her mousy brown hair color, he felt a small part of him die inside.

She had looked tentative and nervous and totally unlike the Veronica he had grown to love over the past few years. He wasn't sure if that was because she was uncertain about her new appearance or if she was simply trying to put on the persona she would be assuming before too long.

He'd swallowed his own reservations about the change, knowing that it was necessary for what they wanted to do. He told her he loved her and that she was beautiful, which caused her to smile. And to him, her smile could never not be beautiful. She could never not be beautiful.

The pitter-pat of falling raindrops distracted him from his train of thought, and he nudged Veronica, letting her know that it was time to put their plan into action.

He almost didn't want to go through with it since he knew how much it would affect her – no matter how much she might insist otherwise. Yeah, the basis for this idea had been borne from her own imagination, but she was only doing all of this to help him with what he now viewed as his responsibility.

"Logan, slow down a little on the curves," she directed him, before returning to her phone call. "No, Wallace, it's fine. It's just raining a little."

"Very little," he countered, as they'd rehearsed. "It's nothing to worry about, Veronica. My baby can handle it."

"Yeah, so we should be home tomorrow," Veronica continued. "We've got maybe seven or so hours left until we're back in Neptune if we drive nonstop. Still, I think we're probably going to stop for the night somewhere along the way. If Logan had been able to separate himself from his car for a few weeks, we would have been able to fly to Oregon and been back home already."

"I'll make it up to you tonight," he promised, both of them knowing that the real reason why they elected to drive was so that they had the ability to put their plan into motion. They would never have a better opportunity than this, and they knew that they had to make the most of it.

"Promises, promises," she replied silkily before laughing at Wallace's likely disgusted reaction. "C'mon, Wallace. I am a married woman now."

She looked at him and nodded once, then twice, then three times. It was the sign he was waiting for, and he hit the CD player, and they listened to the sound of screeching tires echo over his car's top-notch stereo system. He quickly brought the X-Terra to a stop by pulling over to the side of the road, and Veronica started to accompany the sound effects with a few girly screams of her own. He did his part and shouted a few choice curses and waited for the screeching sound to end and follow with the noise of metal crunching and crashing.

In the midst of this fusion of sounds, Veronica disconnected her phone call, leaving Wallace to wonder what had happened to her, to them. Her anguish over the action was clear, and Logan wished that things could be different, that she didn't have to do that.

"It's still not too late," he offered as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the supplies he'd put in the backseat.

She turned to him, her face locked in stony determination. "Let's do this," she said, ignoring his offer.

Removing a six-pack of beers from the bag, Logan carefully placed the cardboard box on its side just a few inches away from the foot pedals. He watched as Veronica threw bottles of rum and vodka and whiskey against the inside of his car, wincing inwardly at the alcohol bath his car was experiencing.

Not that he hadn't ever spilled a drink or two or three or ten in the X-Terra before. His family's cleaning staff had more than a little experience trying to wash a variety of ethanol-based substances from the upholstery. He was pained by the sight before him more because he knew what was coming next.

True enough, everything that would be happening was necessary for things to go as planned. He knew that, understood that. At the same time, though, he wished that there was another way – a way that didn't involve the ruination of his dear and dependable X-Terra.

Once Veronica was satisfied that she'd soaked the vehicle with enough accelerants to really get a good fire going, he climbed back into the driver's seat and started the engine one last time. He carefully shifted the car into drive and used a golf club to continue to depress the brake pedal as he carefully exited the vehicle.

Confident that no one was coming or going in either direction to see them at that particular point in time, Logan removed the pressure from the brake and nudged the case of beer just enough to tip onto the accelerator, pushing down on it with full force. His car took off quickly, and it wasn't much longer before he watched his yellow vehicle careen over the edge of the road and down into a nearby ravine.

The flames started slowly, but it wasn't long before the fire burned in a multitude of colors. It was hypnotizing almost, watching them flicker in the setting sun.

"Come on, Logan," Veronica urged, pulling him by the hand and leading him away from the site of the crash. "We need to get out of here before any help arrives."

She was right, as usual, so he obliged and followed her across the not-so-busy freeway as raindrops fell upon their faces.

"You remember the plan, right?" she asked a moment later, as they trudged through the forest towards the used car lot where, while on their way to Oregon, he'd paid cash for a worn-down Honda.

Their honeymoon had really made the bulk of their planning so much simpler, even though they hadn't married simply for convenience's sake. At least, that wasn't his reasoning.

After he and Veronica got back together in the fall of their freshman year of college, he knew that what they had together was real and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Of course, the average college freshman doesn't just go out and get married, so they talked about it occasionally but planned to wait until after graduation.

But then his father was acquitted, and they weren't content to leave things as they were, and Veronica came up with her brilliant-as-usual plan.

The only downside to said plan? It wouldn't be too much longer before Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars ceased to exist.

He knew that they could have gotten married later, after everything, as their alter egos, but he wanted to be married to Veronica, to the girl who turned his world right-side up again.

So he'd proposed a few days later – hiding a representative Cracker Jack ring in a piece of that sinful chocolate cake she adored so much before surprising her with the real thing moments later.

Their wedding had been rushed – had needed to be rushed given the timeline they were working with. He was pretty sure her father thought that she was pregnant.

She wasn't – they were always so careful about that – but he could understand how that might appear to be the case.

Of course, given Mr. Mars's investigative skills, he'd probably – almost certainly – find the traces of alcohol in the X-Terra and assume that Logan was driving under the influence and that was what caused the crash.

Veronica's family didn't love him all that much to begin with, but he didn't care. Veronica was the only one that mattered to him. Her dad and step-mom and step-brother could curse his name for the rest of their lives for all it mattered to him. As long as he still had Veronica in his life, everything would be okay.

"I remember the plan," he agreed. "And you do remember that you are not – under any circumstances – to use yourself to set a trap for my father, right?"

She nodded and didn't say a word, allowing them to walk side-by-side in silence for a few more minutes.

"Let's go over the code one more time," she suggested, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They'd been over this time and time again over the past two weeks. He knew how she would word her messages, and he understood how to interpret them.

But he also realized now, looking at her, that she was just as nervous about this, about being apart and trying to take on a Hollywood icon, as he was. She just wanted to be certain that this was going to work, that they weren't going to lose track of each other somewhere along the way.

Also, no matter what her ID might say, she was still the same Veronica Mars at heart, and she always needed something to fixate on, if only to keep her mind off more potentially troubling subjects.

"I'll be heading out to a house I just purchased in Nebraska," Logan began. "I have subscriptions to multiple newspapers coming to the house every day. When you want to meet, you'll place an ad in a given paper – the Miami Herald will be first. I'll be able to pick out your message by your use of alliteration and one part of our pseudonyms. The next day, you'll place another ad, and between those two ads, you'll tell me when and where you want to meet."

"Exactly," she replied, sounding quite self-satisfied with the innovative plan she'd been able to concoct over the past few weeks. "And what will you do next?"

"I will then reserve hotel rooms for two nights – the night you want to meet as well as the night before – under multiple aliases to throw off anyone who might be trying to track us down. I will check into one of the rooms and put an ad into the same paper, using the same code that you did, telling you what room to enter that night," he continued, parroting back the same information she'd had them go over time and time again. A slow smirk spreading across his features, he finished, "And then, when you arrive, I'll tackle you to the floor, kiss you senseless, and make sure you know how much I missed you."

"I'm going to miss you too, Logan," she told him, squeezing his hand gently.

Wallace Fennel chosen by Sacramento in NBA Draft

SACRAMENTO, CA – After learning that he had been selected in the NBA Draft by the Sacramento Kings, point guard Wallace Fennel was understandably at a loss for words. "I've had to deal with some obstacles over the past few years," the recent UCLA graduate said in a statement. "Being drafted into the NBA is a dream come true, and knowing that my family will be nearby makes it that much sweeter."

Fennel transferred to Neptune High during his junior year and led the Pirates to wins over rival Pan High and an overall record of 54-12. Fennel was also connected to a hit-and-run accident, but chargers were later dropped. After reaching college, Fennel's step-sister and friend Veronica Mars was killed in a car crash, which sent him on a soul-searching journey. In a 2008 interview, he said, "After that, I had to reexamine my
»» Please see FENNEL, Page 3

15 APRIL 2010
Logan misses her most during the quiet times, when his mind finally gets a chance to slow down and relax and realize that everything that was once good about his life has since disappeared.

He doesn't know what he misses most about her. Honestly, if he were forced to choose, he'd still say that he misses everything. It's a bit of a cop-out, true enough, but that doesn't make the sentiment any less true.

He does miss everything about her – her light laughter, her sweet smile, her know-it-all smirk. Sometimes, though, he thinks that he misses her blonde hair the most.

He understands that she had no choice but to dye her hair. His father may be an impulse-driven maniac, but he's not so stupid as to not recognize her if she were standing before him unchanged.

So she grew her hair out well past her shoulders and dyed it a very unspectacular shade of brown. She also has a pair of tortoise-shell glasses with plastic lenses that she dons to further mask her true identity and to better perpetuate her introverted façade.

Veronica Mars, introverted.

He never thought he'd be using those words in the same sentence.

Really, everything he misses about her amounts to one simple thing. He simply misses her, all of her, all the time.

He misses her even now, when she's lying silently beside him. While he loves the fact that she's here, with him, finally, again, these stolen moments always seem to have a black cloud hanging over them. He's unable to fully enjoy their time hidden away together because no matter how wonderful it is to have Veronica by his side, he knows it's only temporary. He can't even really look forward to a future with Veronica because he finds himself honestly unable to believe that they'll ever reach their happily ever after.

The good things in his life never seem to last, and Logan doesn't see why his marriage should be any different. After all, what's to keep his father from killing another woman he loves next week, or the week after that?

She's resting quietly in his arms, and he marvels that she can sleep at all in circumstances such as these.

She'll be leaving in the morning, going back to her life as Cynthia Andrews, pretending that she didn't die at the age of three from whooping cough. And he'll return to his own solitary life as Jacob Davis, trying to ignore the fact that shellfish led to the end for his alter ego.

Coincidences are one thing. Ones that hit a bit too closely to home are a whole other story.

Logan wants to go back to Los Angeles with Veronica. He wishes he would never have to be apart from her again. But, given the circumstances, he knows that they don't have any real choice but to stay the course. They can't continue on with their temporarily interrupted marriage until after his father is finally imprisoned.

Every time they meet so surreptitiously in a hotel room like this, he wants to ask her to give up on her quest – technically their quest – so that they can spend the rest of their lives hiding away from the world together. When they had first started, he'd had confidence in their plan; he believed that they could accomplish their goal in a few short months – maybe a year, tops – and then continue on with only a brief lapse in the life they'd planned on together.

Three years have now passed, and there hasn't been nearly enough progress to give him hope that this matter will be resolving itself anytime soon.

He misses her all the time – especially when she's right there beside him. He knows it's a bit masochistic of him, but when they spend time together with each other, he can't help but think that they're wasting their limited time together. But he also can't think of anything that would be a more productive use of their time.

Making love, talking, snuggling – no matter what they do, he can't help but feel the sands of time slipping through his fingers. He's losing his hold on the only person in the world who fucking matters to him, and what's more, she has this whole other life that he can only hear about anecdotally.

On his bad days, alone in his quiet and lonely house, he wonders idly if she has a boyfriend in her other life, if she has someone to love her in Los Angeles. Deep down though, he knows that she wouldn't do that. Her character is formed from a strange amalgamation of morals, and loyalty has always been one of them.

Shit, she lost all of her friends defending her father and dedicated over a year to finding the murderer of her fallen friend.

And now? She's given up her family and friends for him of all people – and all to help him with the mission that he suggested.

So no matter how much he may want to forget the whole thing, he knows that he could never ask her to do that. She has given up so much for him and for his cause already. To give up their plan without succeeding means that each of her sacrifices would have been for nothing. They faked their own deaths, assumed false identities, and have done a number of other legally questionable things. No, returning to their old lives is not an option.

He knows that they have to continue on. She may be willing to oblige his request, but she would eventually hate him for it, for convincing her to give up her true identity to obey his whim.

He loves her. And on the good days, he knows that she loves him too. Nevertheless, as the years pass slowly by and he is still unable to freely contact the woman he loves, he wonders how much longer he can survive without her by his side.

Five years after son's death, family celebrates his life

HOLLYWOOD, CA – Aaron Echolls and daughter Trina Echolls-Green have spent five years grieving the late Logan Echolls who died in a car crash on May 19, 2007 at the age of 19. They have worked with Paramount Pictures to produce a movie narrating the story of the troubled boy's life. The Logan Echolls Story, starring Frankie Muniz, will be released in theaters next Friday. The Echolls family released a stataement on Friday thanking fans for their support. Echolls-Green and husband Tom Green plan to erect a memorial in Carmel, California to honor her brother. Additionally, the couple released a state-
»» Please see ECHOLLS, Page 3

15 APRIL 2010

In the morning, she wakes with a smile on her face. She stretches out her toes and wonders what on earth has made her so fucking happy.

She moves her arms, meaning to stretch them above her head, but instead comes into contact with his strong arms, and it all comes rushing back.

After almost three years apart, she's become so accustomed to sleeping alone, to being alone. Waking up beside the one she loves is no longer second nature or presumed. Spending a night with Logan or Jacob or whatever the hell she should be calling him is a treat – a break from the mundane life Cynthia leads.

She looks at the clock, and her heart falls when she realizes she has exactly two hours to make it to the airport, get through the always time-consuming security checks, and board her flight.

She shifts slightly, causing his arms to tighten reflexively around her.

She loves this feeling, loves him. She doesn't want to leave him behind, knowing that it will be months before she can have another stolen night with her husband.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"I need to get to the airport," she responds, regret tingeing her voice. The airport is the last place she wants to be heading when she could be spending the day in bed with Logan.

"Oh," he says, releasing her from his embrace and moving to get out of bed himself.

She slowly reaches for her clothes, wanting to make their last moments together last as long as possible.

Veronica wants to stay with him, to just let Cynthia Andrews disappear as she tries to reclaim the life that she lost when his X-Terra sped into the ravine and burst into flames. Things were simpler then.

She was happy then.

On her bad days, she thinks about ways that she can convince Logan to just give up their quest to punish his father for his crimes throughout the years. She wants Aaron to pay for what he's done just as much as Logan does, but at the same time, she doesn't want said retribution to come at the cost of their relationship.

Still, she knows that by giving up on their plan, she might as well be giving up on her marriage. This is something that he wants, something that is important to him. He hasn't said it in so many words, but she knows he's frustrated with their lack of progress over the last three years.

Frustration after so long is understandable and probable, even. She knows that. And wanting to just give up on this, on anything, is totally out of character for her. She knows that Logan would be surprised at her lack of tenacity and would maybe even be a little disappointed in her.

She doesn't want to disappoint him. She loves him. But it's because of her love for him and because of how much she hates spending these months apart from him that she wants to just be done with this whole thing.

Veronica knows that this is important to him, that giving up on this will probably result in him resenting her for the fact that his father is still a free man. So she'll stick with this and go in to work tomorrow, pretending to be someone that she's not as she does a job she doesn't really want to do, just like she has for the past three years.

She loves Logan, more than she could possibly begin to put into words. And she'd rather have just the few days together each year than risk losing him entirely.

Fully dressed now, she approaches the man who will always rule her heart and her head and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him fully on the mouth.

"Goodbye, Logan," she whispers, her fingers slipping her wedding ring off her left hand. "Keep this safe for me," she instructs, placing it in his hand and folding his fingers over it.

As Cynthia, she can't have or wear a wedding ring. When they went undercover, it was determined that creating a history for husband – let alone a paper trail – would be far too complicated to undertake. So Cynthia is an introverted recluse who never dates and rarely socializes.

But that means that Veronica's love and feelings for her husband must be shoved deep down within her heart so that she can play the part she's come to know all too well over the past three years.

She wishes that Logan would ask her to stay, tell her that he doesn't care what happens to his father anymore – he just wants to spend the rest of his days by her side.

He won't though. She knows this just as well as he does. Still, every time they go through this ritual, she can't help but hope that maybe this time will be different, that maybe this time he'll say the words she wants to hear so badly.

"Keep your eyes on the St. Louis Post Dispatch," she whispers into his ear before stepping back and heading out the door.

She can do this. She's done this four times before.

She tells herself that this will be the last time she'll have to say goodbye to the man she married. She tells herself that this will be the last time she walks away from the only thing that matters to her anymore. She tells herself that she will find the evidence she needs as soon as she returns to Los Angeles.

She tells herself these things every time. She doesn't really know if she believes them anymore.

She wants to believe them. But she also knows that nothing is as disappointing as false hope.

She and Logan willmake Aaron pay for his crimes. There's no two ways about that, at least. Everything that matters to her depends on that, so she will make it happen.

She and Logan will be together. They will find their happily ever after.

She just hopes that it will be sooner, rather than later.

*ducks to avoid flying objects*

Yeah, this is not entirely a "happily ever after" ... but hopefully, it's a Happy Enough For Now With The Potential For A Happier Future that won't get me in too much trouble? *bats eyelashes innocently*

For those who are wondering what the "newspaper articles" looked like, check out the version of this fic over on my Livejournal – herowlness-fic DOT livejournal DOT com SLASH 16939 DOT html. I created them myself, and I had quite a blast, I must admit.

If you're interested in seeing what Trina and Tom look like together, my friend Mel was kind enough to make this manip for my amusement: img DOT photobucket DOT com SLASH albums SLASH v234 SLASH mousebumples SLASH trina-tomlostt1 DOT jpg

... Hopefully those links work? *fingers crossed*

Also, if anyone's looking for more information on the classified ads messaging and such that Logan and Veronica used in this story, let me know. I'd be happy to post up a "Third Part" that is just explaining all of that. (No more story there, though, I'm afraid.) Still, if you're curious, let me know. :)

Anyhow, in addition to Only Hope being in progress on my hard drive, I do have a start to a sequel on this one. I make no promises as to actually finishing it, but I hope to have some luck with that, if/when I get my muses to start cooperating again. If you have any particular questions or curiosities or ... whatever that you'd like to see touched upon in a sequel, please do include that in your review. I keep hoping that something will just make the muses start cooperating again, and reviews have always been food for my muses!

Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoyed this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it! :D