anjoufic | Into the Blue, 7a/7

Title: Into the Blue 7a/7
Author: Anjou anjoufic
Pairing/Character: Logan/Veronica, Logan's POV
Word Count: 8911
Rating: PG-13 to mild R
Summary: It's almost summer, and Logan is sinking into the blue.
Spoilers/Warnings: S1. Beyond that is just my imagination, running away with me.

A/N: This is one very long piece of a chapter, to make up for the unexpected break between parts. There is more to come, and soon! Thanks for your patience and kind words. As ever, thanks to my sister/beta/pal

suzanne_laura.

~*~

I am wide open
Reaching forever
I fly into the blue
I am wide open
Reaching forever
I fly into the blue

Into the Blue by Moby

~*~

Many people who have lived through a traumatic event tend to think of time as being segmented into 'Before' and 'After' phases. Logan wouldn't disagree with the classification, but he was aware that it would probably surprise people that 'Before' didn't end when People magazine or "Access Hollywood" thought it had, which was either when Lilly was killed, or when Veronica discovered that it was Aaron who had murdered her. Those made-for-the-TV-movie moments were certainly defining ones in Logan's life, but like most Hollywood adaptations, they failed to recognize the importance of a small, private moment. 'Before' had really ended weeks ago on a Monday morning when Logan woke up to the sound of his mother's TiVo turning on and off and decided to investigate why it was happening.

Planning for what would become 'After' began when Logan realized that the careful words that his mother had written into her will, the ones that left him her art collection and all of her 'personal effects in the house,' represented a way out for him, a clear path away from Aaron. It was a path his mother had not chosen to take for herself, and Logan would never understand why, but it was not a mistake that he was going to make. He might be his mother's son, but he didn't have to emulate her. He could learn from her. He could make different choices. And if he had thought everything through enough, 'After' was going to begin today.

Logan had been awake for hours, too nervous to sleep longer than the bare minimum his body required. His night time hours had been taken up by stress dreams of one sort or another for the past couple of weeks. The recurring one that he remembered most clearly revolved around him packing for a trip. Veronica kept asking him if he had everything, and he kept answering that he thought he did, but he still felt compelled to look under the furniture and into closets, opening drawers and searching endless rooms full of junk. It wasn't until he had woken up this morning that he recalled that there had been a fire burning in the distance in his dreams, and that some of the rooms were spattered with blood. During the dream, he barely noticed those things, since he was too intent upon finding the thing that he feared he'd forgotten.

The thing is, he didn't know what it was that he'd forgotten, only that he was sure that there was something that he'd overlooked, some piece of information that would bring down all of his plans like a house of cards. He'd wake up with his heart pounding in anxiety and a dry mouth. He'd fruitlessly try to calm himself down and go back to sleep, but his mind would race. Eventually, he would fall into an uneasy sleep, often hearing the sound of Lilly's mocking laughter. He never saw Lilly in his dreams anymore, but she lurked around the edges, whispering dark secrets that he couldn't quite hear, reflecting off the surfaces of things like the shadow of a bird flying across a window. Too often, the only way that he could calm himself was by watching the TiVo of Veronica and himself in the poolhouse.

He couldn't count the number of times he'd watched it in the weeks since he'd first found the recording, but somewhere along the way he'd begun to feel like a voyeur, and a coward. He could watch Veronica on the TV screen and salve the ache of missing her through listening to her voice and remembering her kisses, but he couldn't make himself call her. He'd found himself stymied by the reply function of his e-mail, leaving the screen open on his computer for hours at a time, staring at it with a dry throat, totally blank, the same way he'd find himself sitting with his phone in his hand, staring at the blue screen that said 'Veronica' on it. All he'd have to do is move his thumb just a half an inch and press, and her phone would ring. He was sure she'd answer.

But whenever he tried to visualize what would happen next, his imagination would stutter to an abrupt halt. What was he going to say -- "Hello?" "Hey?" "Veronica?" -- it all just sounded lame and ridiculous to him. He knew he was paralyzed, but he couldn't seem to snap of it. He tried to convince himself that he was just waiting to call her until he had a killer opening line, but even he knew that he was lying.

Sometimes, he wished that she would just call him, imagined that he'd hear his phone playing 'Watching the Detectives', the ring tone he'd assigned to her. It would be so much easier to just respond, but … easy wasn't really going to cut it in this situation. Easy wasn't really what he and Veronica were. He only hoped that when he did speak to her, that she would forgive him for his cowardice, and for taking the time he needed to do what was necessary without any outside distractions. He hoped that she, of all people, would understand the importance of achieving an objective, no matter what.

He'd learned a lot from Veronica Mars -- was still learning from her. He might be stuck in frustrated silence, but she'd seized upon the medium of e-mail, and written him a few since the first one. He knew enough about her to surmise that she was tracking whether or not he read them. She'd even admitted as much in her third e-mail. Each missive had told him some new facts he didn't know or could hardly have imagined. He couldn't fault her for telling him the whole truth no matter how disturbing -- was grateful that she was talking to him, despite the sting of surprise that her news always seemed to give him. He wondered if he would ever get to the point in his life where he wouldn't be surprised by the rotten things that people did to those they claimed to love. Logan had always thought that his family's specialty was ugly secrets, but it seemed to him now that it was a Neptune-wide problem. When it came right down to it, there were a lot of things about Neptune that he would not miss, but Veronica Mars was no longer one of them.

Ever since he read the lines where she vowed that she would have told him of Lilly's faithlessness, he'd felt a sense of relief. It seemed that Veronica Mars, as smart as she was, had misread a lot of people. It was somehow comforting to know that Lilly had fooled them both. What was truly sad was that she wasn't the only one. Veronica hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said in her first e-mail that everybody had been lying to her. Logan, who had always prided himself on his capacity to think the worst about people, would never have imagined the Passions-like scenarios that she'd laid out for him.

He'd re-read the sentences where she told him that her mother and Duncan's father had been having an affair for years as if memorizing the words would make them more comprehensible. Some part of him still could not accept that Mr. Kane was a liar and a cheat, just like Aaron. Logan had always compared everybody else's father to his own, had a kind of rating system for them. Keith Mars was a little too strict for Logan's taste, not to mention the quiet, penetrating stare that he'd perfected that made Logan feel like Keith could see right inside him to where all of his darkest secrets lurked. Most of his other classmates' parents were clueless, or didn't care what their kids were doing as long as it didn't involve too much money, potential jail time or embarrassing headlines, but Jake Kane? Jake Kane was the cool dad. Jake Kane was the dad who let them drink a couple of beers at the pool, as long as everybody slept over. Jake Kane was the dad who'd let his son's friends beta-test new software, and who seemed interested in their opinions of it. Jake Kane was the dad who pulled Logan aside and told him that he hoped he was being respectful of Lilly, and sternly told him to use condoms.

Lilly had always maintained that her parents treated her like she was a bomb that they were expecting to go off, but Logan had always felt that Jake admired Lilly's sharp tongue, that he was secretly proud of how she ruled over 09er society. Of course, Jake had also allowed Celeste to harangue and harass Duncan and Lilly about hanging around with 'inappropriate companions' like Veronica Mars, but Jake had always seemed very fond of Veronica. Logan had thought that Jake hoped that some of Veronica's sweetness might rub off on Lilly, dull that tart edge that she was so prone to flaunt. He had never in a million years imagined that Jake Kane's interest in Veronica might be more personal, that perhaps Jake saw in Veronica the daughter he could have had.

All those years that Logan and Lilly had made fun of Celeste and imitated her mouth pursed in perpetual disapproval, he'd never thought that he'd see the day that he'd feel bad for her, even if it was only a momentary spasm of sympathy. If anyone in Neptune knew how it felt to be the one who was cheated on, the one who loved more and received less back for it, it was Logan. Celeste might be a snob and a bad mother, but maybe he understood her a little bit more, recognized where some of her bitter edge might have come from.

He wondered, too, if he understood more of Lilly's bitterness. It seemed that in the final analysis, Lilly had been absolutely right about which of their children her parents would choose. Even if they'd thought Duncan was a murderer, the Kanes had still chosen protecting their son over getting justice for their daughter's murder. Not only had they been wrong, but because they'd destroyed the crime scene, it was quite possible that Aaron would never serve time for Lilly's murder. As much as Logan was angry at Lilly for everything that she had done to him, all of the lies and the ways in which she'd betrayed him, he couldn't help but feel the absolute wrongness of that. Veronica's e-mails had a measured tone when she talked about Lilly's murder case -- but he could read the bitterness that she felt between the lines. She'd wanted to find Lilly's murderer and to set things right, but the truth was that nothing could ever really set it right.

Logan even felt a twinge for Duncan, now that he knew that the Kanes had believed that Duncan was Lilly's killer, but it didn't last long. Maybe it was selfish, but Logan couldn't help feeling betrayed by how much Duncan had lied to him. He unfolded Veronica's third e-mail and looked at it blindly. He'd read it enough times, but the words never changed.

The thing is, Celeste told Duncan that I was his sister, and that's why he broke up with me. I didn't find this out until very recently, but I'm sure you had no idea about any of this.

Nope. He'd had no fucking idea, although it did go a long way toward explaining some of the furtive, whispered conversations that Lilly and Duncan had had shortly before Lilly was killed. Lilly had told him that Duncan and Veronica were over, but that she wasn't going to give up Veronica as a friend, and that it was important that Logan be Duncan's friend. He remembered how stung he'd felt by the comment at the time, as if he would do anything other than support Duncan, his best friend. After all, even if he wouldn't tell Logan why, Duncan must have had a good reason for dumping Veronica. Duncan was a good guy, the original good guy, Neptune's Golden Boy.

It was just lucky for Golden Boy that he hadn't called Logan for the past two months, because Logan didn't know if he could express himself adequately with words. The temptation to use his fists might be too overwhelming for him to withstand; he might have had to go all Echolls on Duncan's ass.

Logan couldn't believe that he'd wasted time feeling guilty that he'd ever met Duncan. After all, if he'd never met Duncan or Lilly, they never would have met Aaron. Everything would have been all right -- Lilly would have lived, and Duncan and Logan would have gone on with their separate lives as the Golden Boy and the Fuck Up, respectively. But, they'd met and it had all gone to shit, and then Logan had broken the cardinal rule of friendship and fallen in love with his best friend's girl. Even though Duncan had thrown her away, Logan was supposed to respect the rule and never have anything to do with Veronica. Breaking that unwritten rule was what had ended his friendship with Duncan, right?

Except it seemed to Logan now that Duncan had broken a lot more than an unrealistic rule when he thought about Veronica and Shelley Pomeroy's party. Logan could barely stand to remember Veronica's face when she told him that she'd been raped, seeing the anger that barely masked the pain. She'd told him how Lamb had humiliated her and he knew how much he had piled on, could still hear the echoes of the words that he'd said to her ringing in his ears. Logan thought that maybe if he started apologizing now, by the time he was ninety he'd have said it enough times.

But Logan also remembered how Veronica had dismissed her own pain once she knew the truth of what had happened between her and Duncan. Veronica was an odd mixture of forgiveness and vengeance, and while Logan was selfish enough to hope that this would work in his own favor, that didn't mean that he had to forgive Duncan, or himself. Logan remembered all the cruelty that Veronica had endured, and not just at his hands, and Duncan's implacable countenance as the weeks and months had gone by. All in all, it was a good thing that the Golden Boy hadn't called or come over.

The phone in his hand reminded him that it was time to get the show on the road and he got up to leave his mother's room. As he passed the intercom, it buzzed and he let Mrs. Navarro know that he was on his way downstairs.

The kitchen was unusually busy for this time of day. The hallway was lined with suitcases and trunks which Logan observed with a sense of sly satisfaction. He could hear Trina in the distance giving instructions as he walked into the kitchen and greeted Mrs. Navarro and Ari, his father's chief of security.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully to them both, then addressed Ari. "Just let me get some food to take with me and I'll be ready to go."

Ari consulted his watch. "No need to rush," he said, "the traffic is pretty light this morning and the drive isn't that long. Although I really think we should take another car."

"Not mine, you mean," Logan said, piling food on a plate. He could hear Trina yelling at the luggage handlers about damaging her trunk. He rolled his eyes at Mrs. Navarro and she hid a smile.

"I'd feel better if we used a performance vehicle, yes," Ari said.

"We're just going to my appointment and then you're dropping me off at school later," Logan said. "Plus, I think that between your precautions and Aaron's lawsuits that there's been a real drop in the numbers of 'razzi. They aren't really following me the same way anymore."

Ari sighed. "Not following you to your lawyer's office is one thing, Logan. Do I have to remind you what happened the last time you went to school?"

"School has been over for more than a week, Ari," Logan reminded him. "Only the stragglers like me who are turning in their last assignments to the diehard teachers will be there. It's going to be fine," he said as he heard Trina coming up the hall. "We should just go." He was really too nervous to eat and he wanted to get by Trina with a minimum of fuss, if that were even possible.

"Logan!" Trina was yelling as she walked into the kitchen.

"I'm standing right here, Trina," he chided her. "Are you all loaded up?"

Much to his chagrin, Trina looked like she was going to cry. "I'm not sure I should leave you on your own."

"Trina," he said in a soothing tone of voice, "you got a supporting role in a major motion picture. Not an under five, but a real part."

Trina was already smiling through her tears. "I know, I know…"

"It's Wolfgang Pedersen, Trina, a real director. We've been through this," Logan said, neglecting to mention how shooting historical dramas usually dragged on and on, even for the small parts. With any luck, Trina would be gone until Christmas.

"I'm just not sure that Daddy would approve of me leaving you alone," she said quietly.

Logan laughed. "Trina! It's Wolfgang Pedersen! Aaron would insist that you go! Besides, he only just started rehab, and you know how they are about phone calls when people are settling into the program." He could have kicked himself, as Trina's face clouded over at the mention of rehab. "Look," he said hastily, "Aaron is doing what he needs to do to take care of himself and didn't you tell me that he told you he wanted you to be happy?"

"Since when do you care about me being happy?" Trina asked sharply.

"Fine," Logan said, and literally threw up his hands. "Stay here and blow the opportunity of a lifetime. I guess I'll see you later." He picked up his schoolbooks and a Pop Tart and walked around her toward the front hall. He could see the Xterra idling outside.

"Logan!" Trina yelled.

He stopped walking.

"I just need to make sure that you're going to be OK," she said.

"I won't be if I'm late for my test," he said shortly, biting down sharply on all the bitter things he could have said. He'd come too far to blow this now. "Clemmons will have my ass."

"Logan," Trina said, softly.

"I'm fine, Trina," he answered. "Break a leg, OK?"

She gave him a tearful wave and Logan managed not to shake his head ruefully at her acting. She probably actually thought that she was being sincere. He would never understand his family.

His phone rang as Ari pulled out of the gates, and he connected to hear Cliff's melodic tone. "Are you on your way?" he asked.

"Yeah," Logan said, "See you soon."

Only the hardiest of Aaron's fans remained outside the gate and only one of them even acknowledged Logan's presence, rushing over to the passenger window to wave her 'Free Aaron!' banner at Logan. She got to within ten feet of the car before Ari's team moved her away. "I wonder if she even realizes that voluntarily checking in to a five-star rehab to be treated for sex addiction is not the same as doing hard time," he remarked to Ari.

Ari shrugged.

"You are a font of wisdom as usual," Logan said. He tried to relax and settle back into the seat, but even after having done this for weeks, it was hard to get used to being a passenger. "Any followers?" he asked.

"One," Ari answered. "But we'll be losing him in the next quarter mile."

Logan nodded and leaned back, letting his eyes drift closed. He had every confidence that Ari's team would work their magic. He patted his breast pocket and heard the crinkle of paper under his over shirt. He knew it was stupid of him to bring Veronica's e-mails with him -- if Ari's security team failed, someone could get ahold of them. But then again, Gavin DuBois Inc. hadn't become the world's leading personal security firm by letting things happen to their clients.

"It must have killed you to buy more Xterra's in this color," Logan remarked to Ari conversationally.

"Mr. DuBois felt it was a prudent move, since you insist on using your own car," Ari said in an even tone. "Your father, of course, is paying the rental fees."

Logan smiled.

The car was silent for a full minute as they turned a corner and Ari pulled off the road and behind a gate of one of the many mansions in Logan's neighborhood.

Logan caught just a glimpse of the decoy XTerra that was now driving down the street. It would end its journey at Cliff's office, where 'Logan' would get out and go inside to spend the next few hours while 'Ari' waited, then 'Ari' would drive 'Logan' to Neptune High.

The sat there silently, as Ari, never much of a conversationalist to begin with, listened intently to radio chatter that was being piped into his earpiece. A black BMV 700 series sedan drove up next to them, and Logan got out when Ari nodded, moving to the backseat of the new car. Ari swapped places with the BMW driver.

"I'm not entirely sure that all of this playacting was necessary," Ari remarked when they were underway.

"You don't know my sister," Logan answered. "I can't take the chance that she had me followed. Besides, I want to drive my own car later." He closed his eyes and settled back into the leather seat for the drive into San Diego.

~*~

Logan,

I know that you're reading my e-mails. I know that you open them as soon as they land in your inbox. Why won't you write me back?

Veronica

~*~

Logan could still feel Ari's simmering disapproval as the outer office doors closed. He could hear the rumble of Cliff's voice from the conference room down the hall, and he stopped, ducking into the restroom to make a call before he joined him.

"Logan?" a voice asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"Hold on!" the woman said, and clicked away from him. She clicked back after Logan had made three revolutions around the small room, grateful that he was alone in here and couldn't be observed.

"How are you, Logan?" she asked.

"I'm OK, Janey," Logan answered. "Trina left this morning, and I wanted to thank you."

"You already thanked me, Logan," she said briskly, but he knew she appreciated the call. "I want you to know that I would never have lifted one finger, not one finger, to help her unless you asked me to."

"I know," Logan said.

"All those years, all the crap that she gave your mother," Janey's voice was rising in anger. "And she's not very talented. It's only because of her notoriety that anyone would take her."

"I know," Logan said.

"Your mother was a real talent," Janey paused, and Logan heard her light a cigarette. "She had such a sparkle to her when I first met her -- it's hard to imagine that it was over twenty years ago now that I got her first deal. And it's so hard to remember … " She sighed. "This business, Logan. It's bad for people who aren't smart."

"I know," Logan said.

"I know you're a smart boy, Logan. Lynn always said you were special and she was right. I did this for you, so that you could do … whatever it is that you're doing."

Logan smiled at the phone. "Jane Donner," he said in a warmly mocking tone "if Variety could hear you right now you'd lose your 'Hollywood Cannibal' title."

She barked out a laugh. "Nice try at distracting me, Logan. I wasn't fishing."

Logan snickered into the phone, "Much."

"As long as you promise to tell me someday, that's all I ask. Be careful, Logan."

"I am," he said. "I'm being very careful, and smart."

"That's all I can ask," she said. "That no-talent spawn of your bastard father will be away at least until you go back to school.

"Thank you," Logan said.

"So, no more pictures of you swimming in the buff in the family pool will be showing up in my copy of the Enquirer, yes?" Janey asked tartly.

"You didn't like the view?" Logan teased.

Janey barked again, "Believe it or not, I've seen it before. In fact, the first time I saw your plumbing was when your mother was diapering your little behind on this very desk."

He could hear her banging on the surface as she cackled and he huffed out a laugh.

"No, Logan, the very idea of that little tramp making money off of you makes me ill."

Logan laughed. "Well, she'll be in the mountains of the Czech Republic by day's end."

"The cold and rainy mountains," Janey added. "I hope she has a miserable shoot, God forgive me."

Logan could hear Cliff out in the hall, "I have to go, Janey."

"Don't be a stranger, Logan," Janey warned. "If you ever change your mind about the business, you better not call anybody else."

Logan put his hand over his heart, even though Janey couldn't see him. "I would never do that to you, Janey."

"Hmmph," she sniffed, "You better not. Be good."

The line went dead in Logan's ear and he shut the phone off and snapped it shut, putting it in his pants pocket. He stared at himself in the mirror above the sink. He looked pale from having spent most of the past month indoors, but he didn't look too unhealthy. His bruises were long gone. He smoothed his shirt and heard the reassuring crinkle of Veronica's e-mails. He didn't need to read them anymore to remember what they said, but having them with him today was like holding a talisman against evil.

Logan looked himself in the eye and willed himself to be strong, to be smart, and not to lose his temper. "Showtime," he said to his reflection, and then he turned and walked out the door.

~*~

To: PI_Pride@gmail.com
From: Surf_dog_logan@gmail.com

I honestly don't know what to say.

~*~

"How are you, Logan?" Cliff asked. It might have been Logan's hyperactive imagination, but he thought Cliff might be sweating just a little bit.

"I'm good. I'm ready for this," Logan said, and he hoped he didn't sound like he was trying to convince himself. "Are you?"

"This is really your show, Logan," Cliff said worriedly.

Logan smiled. "That's exactly what it is, Cliff. It's all a show -- but it's a really big shoe," he added, in a horrible Ed Sullivan imitation.

Cliff rolled his eyes at Logan, but Logan could see that he had relaxed. "Please avoid co-opting cultural icons from my childhood, would you? It's just wrong."

"Sure, fine, whatever," Logan answered amiably, but Cliff totally missed the reference. "So, this is the set-up, huh?" Logan asked rhetorically, looking around the small conference room. A flat-screen computer monitor stood at the center of the oval table with a boomerang shaped black device next to it. The screen was facing the three chairs on one side of the table. The shades on the window behind had been drawn so that Logan and Cliff could see the screen more clearly. Right now, it was broadcasting a view of an empty chair with a large potted plant behind it. "Are we live?"

"We're muted," Cliff said, "but we're connected." He pointed to the stacks of files and a box on the tables. "I don't know how you want to organize those."

"My props?" Logan said lightly, but went over to look at the piles. He emptied the box of mini-tapes onto the table and stacked them up into two piles with the labels were facing him. "Is the camera on the top of the screen?"

"Yes," Cliff said. "Which side do you want to be on?"

"The right one," Logan said, studying the console. "It'll be a nice change of pace for me."

Cliff adjusted his tie and collar reflexively, and Logan could see that he was taking it all in, and calming himself down. Cliff finished his adjustments and turned his attention to Logan, and Logan could almost feel Cliff taking the measure of his mood as he studied Logan with an unreadable expression on his face. "For what it's worth, Logan, I think you are doing the right thing."

"Thanks," Logan said quietly. "I actually do appreciate you being here with me."

Cliff shook his head. "I still say that you could have found yourself a more qualified representative for this enterprise," he said. "This really isn't my area of expertise."

"This isn't about expertise," Logan said, then cut himself short. He didn't know how to tell Cliff that he couldn't trust anyone else not to sell him out. Or that the reason that he knew he could trust Cliff was because if Cliff ever did sell Logan out, Veronica Mars would have his balls mounted on a brass plate on the wall behind her desk as a warning to others. He was pretty sure Cliff knew that already, anyway.

Cliff looked at his watch, and then sat down. "Where is he?"

Logan laughed. "Waiting to make an entrance, of course." He went over and got a Mountain Dew off the credenza, waving the refreshment at Cliff, who shook his head. "You obviously don't know Aaron Echolls."

Cliff looked over at the stack of files that were next to Logan's empty chair. "If you don't mind me saying so, Logan, I feel that I know much more than I ever wanted to."

"Sorry," Logan said. He sat down and looked over at Cliff. "He'll come in now that he sees I'm here," he said. He reached over and turned the microphone on.

"Are you just about finished with your schoolwork?" Cliff asked.

"Yeah," Logan said, "I have a couple of more things to turn in, but I've taken all of my finals. Thanks again for making the arrangements on the attendance. It's really helped a lot."

"No problem," Cliff said smoothly, "that is my job. Classes ended last week, right?"

Logan nodded, keeping his eyes on Cliff, but out of the corner, he could see the plant moving on the computer screen. He flicked his eyes at Cliff and knew that he'd made the same observation. Logan forced himself to exhale through his nose, willing himself not to tense up. "Yeah," he answered Cliff, managing to keep his voice level. He could do this. He was the son of actors. "Today is actually the last day the building will be open until mid-August."

"Cutting it close, my friend. Now, any plans for the summer?" Cliff asked easily, keeping the patter going. "I'm hoping to get up north to the mountains myself."

"I'm not really sure --" Logan began, but stopped when he saw Aaron's torso in front of the camera. Aaron was using crutches to walk, the old-fashioned kind that had a bracelet that came up and gripped the wrist. Someone pulled the chair away from the conference table and Aaron eased himself gingerly into the seat. Logan was struck not only by how frail Aaron looked, but how old he seemed. It was the first time he ever remembered seeing Aaron without a tan, and his pale face was lined with wrinkles that Logan was cruel enough to hope had been caused by extreme physical pain. It surprised Logan that Aaron hadn't had his wrinkles eradicated with Botox, but Aaron was shrewd enough to know that evidence of his suffering would make him more sympathetic to a jury. That probably explained his choice of braces as well.

"Logan," Aaron said, after he'd finally settled into his seat with a pained expression, "it's so good to see you, son." Aaron's voice was full of warmth and sincerity that Logan knew was patently false.

Logan remembered how upset he'd been when Aaron had been stabbed at Christmas, just six months ago. How despite everything that was wrong with their relationship, he was frightened by the thought of his father's death.

Those thoughts and feelings seemed utterly alien to him now.

"Aaron," Logan said. He had to admire the control that Aaron maintained over his features at Logan's neutral tone and his casual use of his first name. Aaron hated to be disrespected almost as much as he hated to be ignored. Only the most subtle downturn of Aaron's mouth let Logan know that his first punch had landed.

"How have you been, son?" Aaron asked. It seemed he was determined to play the concerned father to the hilt.

"You know, I've actually been OK," Logan said, then added thoughtfully, "it seems that they were right after all."

"They?" Aaron asked in a puzzled tone. His eyes shifted momentarily away from the camera and back to Logan, an appeal to someone in the room that had yet to be introduced.

"You know, 'them'," Logan said easily, sketching the last word in quotes.

Aaron shook his head at Logan, his expression conveying confusion and that tinge of hurt that Logan remembered him perfecting for "Breaking Point".

Logan smiled. "You see, it turns out that the truth really does set you free." He dropped his arm down onto a pile of folders and pulled them over into the camera's view.

"Logan, son," Aaron began, then interrupted himself. "Do we have to have this conversation with a stranger in the room?"

"I think it's a good idea to have my lawyer here," Logan said.

"Your lawyer?" Aaron said, glancing at Cliff for a microsecond before his gaze returned to Logan. "You're a minor, Logan. You can't have legal representation without my permission." This time, he looked directly at Cliff. "I'll have your license if you've done anything --"

Logan interrupted him. "Would you like to go to a judge and get an actual legal opinion on that, Aaron?" He pushed the files toward Cliff and pulled the mini-tapes over, leaning forward to rest his chin on them. "I think that would be a really interesting idea."

Aaron stared at the tapes and then glanced off-camera again.

"Why don't you ask your lawyer to join us, Aaron?" Logan said. "I'm sure he's dying to see what you're looking at."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aaron said stonily.

"Oh, c'mon!" Logan laughed. "Don't make me mouse over and see if I can guess who it is from the reflection in your eyes. We're recording this anyway."

Aaron started. "What do you mean, we're recording this?"

"Exactly what I said," Logan answered. "I'm having this recorded on my end and you sure as shit got somebody on your end to record this feed for you at Promises. Probably that lawyer you keep looking at every thirty seconds. Come out, come out, wherever you are." Logan sang.

After a couple of seconds, a dark-haired man in his thirties wearing a good suit sat down next to Aaron, although Logan could barely see his face. Aaron had always been a camera hog.

"Why don't you introduce your friend to the camera?" Logan asked. "This is Cliff McCormack, by the way."

Aaron's lawyer leaned into the camera shot. "Jordan Lawrence," he said, "for Robert Shapiro."

"Tsk, tsk," Logan chided, "already being subbed off to the second string, Aaron?"

Aaron's expression darkened and Logan felt another thrill of triumph.

"Mr. Shapiro is actually hard at work preparing your father's case," Lawrence said swiftly. "He didn't think it was the most appropriate use of his time for him to come down here and intrude on Mr. Echolls' private meeting with his son."

"Well," Logan smirked, "he may change his mind about that later, but by then it'll be too late."

"What is this all about, Logan?" Aaron said testily, then stopped himself. "I'm sorry, Logan. I know that you have every good reason to be angry with me. We do have a lot of things to discuss."

"Oh, ho, ho!" Logan chortled, and turned to Cliff. "Didja hear that one?" Turning back to the screen, he said, "You know, Aaron, it really is a shame that no one will ever actually realize just how much of an awesome actor you are."

Aaron kept his expression carefully neutral, but his eyes were snapping with restrained fury.

"I mean, your best performances were usually saved for family, and mostly just for my mother's benefit." Logan continued thoughtfully, "Although, I guess that the people at Promises will be seeing one of your better performances when you start to 'share' in group."

Aaron's lawyer dropped a restraining arm on Aaron and leaned into the cameras view. "Logan," he said paternally, "I think we all understand that you are upset with your father …"

"Don't patronize me, Jord-o," Logan snapped, "you have no fucking idea what I'm upset about. You've only seen the tip of the iceberg. Why don't you sit back, shut the fuck up and take notes? Then you can sum up at the end and give an accurate accounting to Mr. Shapiro."

"Son," Aaron began in his 'Father Knows Best' warning voice.

"Don't bother, Papa," Logan snapped back. "I won't be taking any more instruction from you. Has it occurred to either of you geniuses to ask exactly where Cliff and I are at the moment?"

"I just assumed you were in his office," Aaron said, pointing at Cliff. He exchanged a worried glance with Lawrence.

"No," Logan said, "We're in the offices of the private detective agency that my mother hired."

A flicker passed across Aaron's face.

"You remember my mother, don't you, Aaron?" Logan said. "The woman you treated like dirt and humiliated for years before you drove her to her death?"

"It wasn't like that, Logan," Aaron said softly. He had the gall to look pained.

"Whatever, Aaron," Logan said. "The point is -- you should have paid more attention to the terms of mom's will. It turns out that her personal effects were much more interesting than the shoes and Hermes handbags that Trina was so interested in."

Aaron's brow was creased, but it was his lawyer who spoke. "Whose office are you in?" he asked directly. He reached out and tilted the computer screen so that he could see Logan more clearly. Logan enjoyed the flash of annoyance that crossed Aaron's features.

"Vincent Calabrese's," Logan said, taking care to pronounce the complex last name carefully. He watched as Aaron received the name with indifference, which was not shared by his attorney. "You don't remember Vince, do you?" Logan asked Aaron. "He was Anthony Pellicano's right hand man at one time."

Aaron shook his head with a 'so' kind of gesture.

"Anthony Pellicano, the wiretap king?" Logan prompted. He tapped the pile of tapes in front of him. "You see, Aaron, my mom knew all about your little set-up in the poolhouse." Aaron's eyes widened and he lurched forward a bit in his seat. "In fact, she even expanded upon it. Not just your two cameras, but two more of her very own."

"That lying …" Aaron began sotto voce, but his lawyer's restraining hand cut off the end of his sentence.

"Oh, don't even bother, Jord-o," Logan said, "it's not like he's saying anything new. He'd say it to her face. In fact," he began shuffling through the cases and pulled one out, "he says that and far, far worse in this dub I had made from the original recording of October 2003."

Jordan was blinking nervously at the tape in Logan's hand. Logan helpfully held the label up to the eye of the camera.

"October 2003 was a busy, busy month for your client," Logan said smoothly. "Oh, and don't worry. My mother doesn't actually accuse him of screwing Lilly Kane. And unfortunately, it seems that mom didn't get her cameras into position until after he killed Lilly."

Aaron started to object, but Logan rolled his eyes and moved on. "Please, Aaron, we all know you did it. Even your high-priced suit knows you did it. What he doesn't know is what I've got on these tapes. So, let me sum up: I've got your client fucking two to three dozen different women, including a maid that I'm pretty sure was underage and a couple of other girls that look like, well, girls. Not that that makes any difference to Aaron. How old was Lilly when you started 15? 16?"

"Your father's admission of sex addiction and his treatment for it is on the record." Jordan jumped right in, keeping Aaron from speaking. "Besides, it's illegal to tape participants without their knowledge, and no judge would allow those tapes into evidence."

"Oh, who cares about the court?" Logan asked. "Aaron doesn't give a shit about that. But what I have in my hands here -- Aaron Echolls having sex with the help, not to mention the daughters and wives of his neighbors and friends? Game over. No moviegoer will ever buy his family act again."

"You wouldn't dare," Aaron said.

"Why wouldn't I?" Logan challenged.

"You need my money," Aaron said bluntly. "What your mother left you won't even cover your drinks for the first semester at college, if you get into one."

"Gloves off now, huh, Papa?" Logan said cheerfully. "Once again, though, you really should have paid more attention to what my mother's will said." Logan reached over and pulled a stack of files in front of him. "Mom's art collection?" He paused. "Worth millions."

Aaron's jaw was clenched and he was blinking. "Everything that's in that house belongs to me."

"Actually," Logan said, "a lot of her artwork isn't in the house. It's in a secure location. And the stuff that is in the house? Is mine. These files prove that. She had Vince's people making sure that it was all protected from you."

"So?" Aaron said. "You have a few crummy paintings and some purses, so what? You're still not an adult." He leaned forward. "I could send you to military school if I felt like it, or the French fucking Foreign Legion."

Logan smiled at Jordan. "I'm so happy that you're here to share in this warm Echolls family moment."

Cliff finally spoke, moving a stack of files that was next to him into the camera's view. "You do anything whatsoever to Logan and I guarantee you that everything that is in these files will be made public."

"Oh?" Aaron said mockingly, "and what's in those files? More evidence of my sexual prowess?"

"No," Cliff said. "They're your application for Father of the Year." Aaron's face registered surprise that Cliff was daring to taunt him. "Your late wife seems to have gone to a great deal of expense to track down every medical record of Logan's."

Aaron's attorney's eyes were darting back and forth between Logan and Aaron, who were locked in a game of eyeball chicken.

"You're bluffing," Aaron said to Logan. He looked like he was ready to laugh. "Those records don't exist."

"I warned you," Logan said. "Do you remember? On the day she died, I warned you." He could tell that Aaron didn't remember, so he prompted him. "We were sitting in the corridor at the high school waiting to go into the principal's office, and I told you…"

"That you were going to kill me," Aaron said, his voice rich with sarcasm. "Oh, I remember, little man. But I'm still sitting right here."

"There's lots of ways to die, Aaron," Logan said evenly. "You're just too dumb to have figured that out yet."

Aaron laughed at Logan, but his lawyer looked worried.

"And you're right, Mom doesn't have all of the emergency room visits --" Aaron was looking smug -- "at all of the locations we were at over the years, but she has enough." He paused and pulled one file out. "Where you really screwed up is with the plastic surgeon. One rhinoplasty is expected of a movie star's kid, but two? It looks bad, Aaron. Then there's the X-rays. You know, I didn't know that there are certain kind of bone breaks that are always suspicious." He flipped through his charts. "Would you look at that? How interesting!" He exclaimed. "Also, Mom? Had my mostly complete medical file submitted to several doctors who are expert witnesses in child abuse cases. My name was blacked out, of course, but all three doctors came to the same conclusion."

"Child Abuse," Cliff supplied helpfully to Aaron's attorney.

"Blah, blah, blah," Aaron said, "poor widdle Wogan. Maybe Mommy beat you and she was so guilty … she offed herself."

Logan gritted his teeth and tried to stay on track. "Interesting tactic, Aaron, but I don't think that the public will buy that. Besides, you shouldn't have used the same belts over and over. Mom got DNA samples off a bunch of them, and they're all typed and matched with …" he flipped the file open, "Wow! What a surprise! Logan Echolls' blood and skin!"

Aaron looked like he wanted to strangle Logan.

"Nice murderous glare, Aaron," Logan said, "I'm so glad we're recording this for posterity. Now, what do you think that establishing a propensity for violence will do for your case?"

"The case for murder against your father is extremely circumstantial," Jordan said. "And I doubt that any of this evidence would be allowed into the hearing process."

"Who said anything about the murder case?" Logan asked. "I was thinking that a judge might find Aaron's propensity toward violence really interesting in those attempted murder charges he's got pending. You know, when coupled with the testimony of Trina's ex-boyfriend and Trina's deposition about the beating Aaron gave him."

"Trina would never testify against me," Aaron said heatedly. "My daughter is loyal to me."

"Trina won't have the chance to testify for you," Logan said, "seeing as how she's so busy shooting Wolfgang Pedersen's new epic."

Aaron blinked at Logan, uncomprehending. He shook his head. "Trina?" he asked in disbelief.

"She didn't tell you?" Logan taunted. "How surprising. She'll be off in the Czech Republic for at least the next few weeks, filming a small, but key, part. She might not have a lot of lines, but her character is onscreen for a great deal of time." Logan was really enjoying the chagrin etched on Aaron's features. "It's a real make or break part for her. You should be proud, Aaron! There will still be an Echolls on the silver screen in 2006."

"Trina …" said Aaron. Logan could see that he was fuming.

"So, I guess she won't be available to testify about how you beat the crap out of her boyfriend because you're such an exemplary father."

"I was defending my family!" Aaron exploded.

"That's right!" Logan said. "And that's what you were going to say about trying to kill Veronica too, right? That you were just trying to keep her from telling me about how you were fucking my girlfriend? But you see, Aaron, ask your lawyer. I think that defense will lose something when I testify that you've been beating the living shit out of me since I was two years old."

Jordan Lawrence had been furiously taking notes, but he stopped and glanced up at Logan.

"You wouldn't dare," Aaron said.

"I warned you, Aaron," Logan said. "Maybe I deserved what you did to me, but my mother didn't. Keith Mars sure as hell didn't." He stopped and looked down at the table and continued in a softer voice. "Veronica didn't. Even Lilly didn't deserve that."

"Lilly," Aaron scoffed and leaned forward to speak.

"Shut up, Aaron," his lawyer said. "What do you want, Logan?"

Logan pointed at Aaron. "He goes to jail," he said clearly and Aaron let out a bellow of outraged disbelief. "Either he pleads guilty to the assaults on Veronica and Keith Mars and does time, or we do it the hard way and I guarantee you that every bit of dirt I have on him will be broadcast on the E! Hollywood True Story by Labor Day. Either way, it is game over. I don't give a fuck." He looked at Aaron, "I might not be able to make you serve time for killing Lilly, but you sure as hell are going to jail for what you did to Veronica."

"You can go fuck yourself, Logan!" Aaron yelled. He stood up and kicked his chair backward, bending over to point at the screen, his face purple with rage.

"Wow!" Logan exclaimed. "Nice act with the crutches. I actually bought that you needed them."

"This is all about Veronica Mars?" Aaron yelled incredulously. "She turned you in, you dumb shit! And I'll bet she never even opened her legs for you."

Logan clenched his fists under the table as Aaron continued on his rampage.

"You would sell me out for some pussy that you never even got!?" Aaron stopped and stared at Logan. "Or is this about that other piece of ass? Lilly wasn't that good, Logan."

"You shut the fuck up about Lilly," Logan said, seething. "She was just a kid."

"Oh, she wanted it," Aaron said, grabbing at his crotch. "She always wanted it, even when she was getting it from you."

"Fine!" Logan said. He leapt up and his chair turned over and smashed onto the ground. "Then I'll release it all!! Your career is over, Aaron, over!! I will make fucking sure of it." He pushed a button on the console and a picture within a picture popped up. In the streaming video, Aaron was having sex with one of Madison's pals in the poolhouse. She looked about fifteen.

Aaron stopped raving long enough to look at the clip. As Logan watched grimly, a small smile played over Aaron's lips as he admired himself onscreen.

He heard Cliff give a low whistle next to him. "Wow," he said under his breath.

Aaron looked up at Cliff and grinned, mistaking his utterance for envy.

Logan waved his finger at Aaron's attorney. "See this?" he said to Jordan. "I press one number on this console and it connects right to Katie Couric's private line. She's been after me for weeks for an interview. I will give her the interview of her life." He pointed at Aaron. "He is going to jail."

Aaron picked up his crutch and swung it at the console, but Jordan was surprisingly nimble for a guy in a suit and grabbed it.

"Be a little reasonable," Jordan urged Logan as Aaron shoved everything off the conference table within his reach and Jordan scrambled to protect the console. Logan could hear the sound of things breaking as Aaron picked up the other crutch and swung it like a baseball bat and lurched out of the camera's view. Jordan had begun to look a little frightened and was holding the first crutch in a protective fashion over his head.

"I don't see why I have to be," Logan said. "After they sedate him, you contact my lawyer and he will dictate my terms. Oh, and tell Aaron not to come home to Neptune after he finishes his 'treatment'." Logan could hear that other people had entered the room and were attempting to corral Aaron and he raised his voice so that Jordan could hear him. "Tell him that if he mentions me again in an interview, other than to say that someday he hopes that I can forgive him for the horrible things that he's done, this deal is fucking off." Aaron was roaring offscreen at the people who were trying to restrain him. "You see what I've been dealing with my whole life?" Logan asked Jordan, who didn't say anything. "No fucking negotiations."

Logan leaned over and disconnected the conference call as Aaron bellowed in the background.

When the screen went dark, Logan collapsed to his knees, dropping his head down onto his arms atop the conference table and scattering the stack of tapes. He was trembling so violently from the adrenaline rush that his teeth were chattering.

He dimly felt Cliff pick him up and put him back into his now upright chair, but he couldn't speak, couldn't focus on anything other than stopping the hyperventilation. Cliff went and got him a glass of water, then sat down in the chair next to him while Logan just shook. He turned his face into the crook of his elbow and tried to slow his heart down, beat by beat.

"Are you all right?" Cliff asked eventually, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I think so," Logan said, his voice muffled against his sleeve. "I think I'm going to be OK now."

"Congratulations, Logan," Cliff said, and Logan turned his head to look at him. "I think you just emancipated yourself."

Logan smiled.

"An unorthodox method, to be sure, but still … very effective."

"Kids, don't try this at home," Logan said weakly and laughed, just before he burst into tears.

~*~

Part 7b