Veronica Mars

Whiteness, yellow flowers, the sound of the ocean.

Lilly

( I'm sorry )

Meg

( I'm sorry )

Keith

( I'm sorry )

When she was six her father took her to the sea shore. She'd been there before that, certainly, but that occasion was the earliest she could remember. The sun had been bright and she'd kept pushing her hat off as she splashed in the ocean, and each time Keith had picked it up and told her to put it back on, so she'd be safe. Her mother had spent the day sunbathing, but her father played with her all day. They built suncastles, and eventually he let her bury him in sand up to his neck.
( boom )
The first time she'd had a date with Duncan, her father had called every fifteen minutes or so, just to be sure, until she'd complained "You're embarassing me!" After that, he only called every half-hour.
( Boom )
The night Lilly died, she'd sobbed into his shoulder until dawn. Neither of them got any sleep that night. By the morning Veronica had changed, no longer the same person. But Keith loved her the same.
( BOOM )
Her mom walked out on them. And it hurt. But they had each other. They always had each other.
( BOOM )
Always -




The ocean breathes salt air in her face. It's quiet here, so quiet, without the sounds of her worries or fears. Just the surf.




When she was - young, she can't remember how young - her father would put on puppet shows for her in the backyard. She remembers -

Sunlight, grass, she's small and cross-legged and peering upwards in awe at the tiny theatre. The puppets are socks with buttons on, at best, but he makes them live. They dance and fight and argue, each with different voices, and she laughs, her voice filled with love.

A puppet squeaks his nose and she giggles, but then he folds his arms, and peers at her, confused. "Honey? Do you smell that?"

Of course she smells it. Silly Daddy. "Smells like bacon!"












She starts, shaken awake, back in her bed. "Dad."

He's here, he's here, she just heard his voice, so clearly - "Dad!" The smell of bacon in the air - it wasn't just in her mind, it couldn't have been. She takes off towards the kitchen.

"Dad!"

But it's not. It's Logan at the stove, and he glances up, surprised, and her heart breaks all over again.

Logan steps towards her and folds her into an embrace, but despite how relieved she is to see him it's not the same, not at all. She can feel the tears welling over once more.

"I'm sorry," Logan whispers, comforting, "I'm so sorry..."

"Is that breakfast I smell?"

Veronica stiffens, spins. It's a dream. Another dream. It's not a dream. But it can't possibly be.

It is.

"Dad. DAD!" He's alive. He's really alive. Veronica abandons a dazed Logan in an instant and dashes across the room, hugging her father tighter than she's ever done before. Alive. Alive. "I thought you were dead! God, I love you so much."

She'll never forget to say that again.

He pats her head with his hand and returns the hug, but says, "I don't understand...?"

"Woody's plane," she says, a bit choked on tears that are both mournful and joyful, "Cassidy Casablancas blew it up."

Keith's look is a bit stunned, but he pulls her close nonetheless. "Oh, honey. I wasn't on the plane. Lamb didn't want me with Woody when they met the press, so he had them take me off the plane at the last minute. I rented a car, I drove home."

He gives her a reassuring smile, and wipes some tears away. "I was a bit surprised, to find Logan on the couch. But better than finding him somewhere else, heh, y'know...?"

The front door swings shut, and the two Marses glance up. Logan's gone, and Veronica feels a twinge of guilt. His father's not going to be around when he gets home, and despite the fact that his father is Aaron Echolls, that can't be easy to get used to. She'll be sure to call him later, make sure he's okay.

Meanwhile, Keith asks, "So what were you saying about the Casablancas boy?"

Veronica sighs. It's going to be a long story.

Elsewhere, right now, there's a party. Veronica knows that most of her classmates headed over right away - Mac's there, Logan, Gia, Dick - and she'll join them eventually. But for now, she's at home, taking one more opportunity to pour over the Junior Sharks team photos.

One of these boys is the third victim, edited out of the audio tape that had been sent to Woody Goodman. He's the third one who was molested. And unlike the other two, he's still alive. He's a witness, a clue. With his help, there will be evidence enough to put Woody away for murder.

But Veronica has to find him, first.

When the phone rings, she already knows who's calling.

"You caught him."

One left.

Veronia is kicking herself for not thinking of this earlier. What are the things that Woody Goodman is known for? Owning the Sharks. Being the "mayor of Neptune". And owning a chain of vanity hamburger joints.

She remembers coming here years and years ago, bouncing in the back seat of their car as her dad asked her, "Where should we go for lunch?" It's still that kind of place: bright primary colours and a goofy cartoon mascot. The specific joint Veronica enters doesn't have a ball pit, but one would fit right in.

Of course nowadays, Veronica muses, I'd rather be - heh - strapped down to an anthill than be seen in one of these places. But hey, desperate times...

The photographs are on display to the right of the counter, lined up behind trophies the teams have won. As a sponsorship note, a point of pride, all of the Little League Sharks teams for the past fifteen years or so are up there, grinning down. It doesn't take her long to find the appropriate year.

And there he is, the missing kid: she taps him with a finger then follows the photograph down, taking in the caption.

Front Row (L to R): Derek Applegate

And that's it. Veronica takes a small, grim sigh - it's over. It's just begun.

"Derek Applegate. Who are you, and where do you live...?"

All that's left is to find him, and to --

No. Veronia looks again at the photograph, the caption. She leans closer, frowning, seeing one last line.

Not Pictured:

She'd been barking up the wrong tree. If there were boys who weren't in the photo at all, then there was no way that she ever could have used that alone to...

Not Pictured:

No.




Cassidy Casablancas.




No.








The bright colours of the restaurant go into a spin, and Veronica feels like she's falling --

And suddenly it all --

I never touched
woody needs to pay for what he
she's a golddigger
there was a bomb on the
you're already
i have what?
rented a room at the
detonated by
had to be close enough to
meg -
mac -
close your eyes and think of england.

-- Makes sense.




"Oh, God."





Veronica throws up.

"We find the defendant... not guilty."

---

The reporters, the fans, are all lined up before the courthouse. Cameras flash. Voices cheer, scream. Aaron Echolls makes his way down the courthouse stairs - he's smiling, waving, always the celebrity.

So this is how it is. The innocent suffer, the guilty go free, and truth and fiction are pretty much interchangable.

They ask him questions and he answers with sincerity - almost too much of it. For Veronica, who knows the truth, the words are smug and boastful.

Her fingernails dig in to the crook of her elbow as she stands in the crowd, arms crossed, and she makes an effort to fight back the bile.

There is neither a Santa Claus, nor an Easter Bunny. And there are no angels watching over us. Things just happen for no reason.

Her dad touches her, gently, but it's a fight not to snap at him. She has to snap at something.

"Hey," he says.

They leave.

And nothing makes any sense.

---

The newspaper headline reads Echolls Acquitted and the accompanying picture shows Aaron, smiling, waving in front of the courthouse.

Veronica wants to burn it.

"Hey." Keith grabs away the paper. "We will not do this. You can't let this stick in your head, however wrong it turned out. We're people with lives and we will not obsess. We move on." He sighs, and folds the paper, looking grave. "Aaron Echolls will get justice in his own way."

"You really believe that?" she asks, disbelieving.

His answer is immediate. "Yes. Now... come on, look alive." Because it's the Mars way to joke, too soon, he adds, "We have a business to run here," before retreating to his office.

But that doesn't stop Veronica from sulking until the fax machine rings to life. She checks the message, and shakes her head, calling in to her father. "What happened to moving on?"

He glances up.

"Posted today. Meg's dad, offering twenty grand for the capture of Woody Goodman."

"Well." He takes the fax, and glances it over only briefly before handing it back. "I'm sure someone will get him."

Veronica stares at him, boggled. This is Woody Gooman. He molested his little league team. He blew up a bus full of kids. "Didn't you say something about, 'We have a business to run'? Shouldn't you be out hunting him down, like the dog he is?"

"Yeah, but I also said something about us being people with lives. See, I have this kid..."

Veronica rolls her eyes, but Keith continues, unperturbed:

"... she's graduating from high school, I don't want to miss it..." He grins.
"Guess I'm just sentimental."

Veronica gives him one last flat look. "Sure. Right. Well, I'm going to work. You know... at my job? You might want to try that, sometime."

Keith chuckles until she's left the office, then casually reaches over and fishes the newspaper out of the trash bin.