A/n: I've been toying with this idea for a while. I loved season 1 and really wanted to write something with all it's characters present. Goes AU pretty much right off the bat, but I really hope it keeps the characters true to themselves. Please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts; I'd love to hear the good, the bad and the ugly.

Chapter 1:

Logan Echolls was the very picture of careless derision - perched atop his bar stool, body facing the crowd, his muscles lax, and his teeth stretched in a wolfish grin he pretended to pay attention to the dear old lady who gushed about his father.

Aaron Echolls.

Genetics dictated the charismatic man in his tux waxing poetic about his late ex-wife, his father but Logan knew that the man had as surely killed Lynn as the prescription pills she had OD'd on. He would never forgive him.

The crowd let out a collective sigh pitying the actor and the family; Trina stood to the left of Aaron reveling in the attention, pretending to actually care about the woman she sneeringly referred to as her "step-mother."

As if she really were Cinderella and not dead hooker II.

His eyes raked over the crowd; he barely recognized anyone since leaving for LA. After an altercation nearly 18 years ago, Lynn had finally escaped the clutches of Aaron with the help of the then local sheriff Keith Mars. Logan had never been happier and Lynn while outwardly ecstatic had turned to the bottle with renewed vigor. Three years of a somewhat normal life and he had come home to find her face down and foaming at the mouth. Aaron, and by extension Trina had exploited her death, wanting to reconcile with Logan and play the part of the happy Hollywood family when he had firmly declined.

They probably hadn't forgiven him, he decided emptying the glass of scotch. There could be no other reason that they made his life living hell, forcing him to remember Lynn's death every year by throwing some sort of fake memorial gala with the byline, 'Lynn wants us to be happy.'

Not true. More accurate would be, 'Lynn wants her bottle of vodka, and her scumbag ex to treat her like a real person.'

He would be the first to admit his mom had issues.

Logan nodded half-heartedly, pretending to listen to yet another birdlike woman who joined the first. His first thought was that they all must shop in the same store or at the very least at the same designer. It was getting harder and harder to focus on the mindless conversation revolving around his father when he saw her. To be fair, he didn't have a view of much other than her back- the wings of scapulae beckoning his eyes to travel lower. The scarlet satin of her dress dipped tantalizingly into the base of her spine, the V of the fabric playing peek –a- boo with the cleft of her ass. The straps cut deep on her sides before rising up to tie in a knot under her neck and he felt a lump form in his throat as he imagined running his fingers along exposed skin. Hair closer to white than blonde hung straight and loose in an angular bob that just grazed the bow. His mouth was starting to go dry, and he knew right then that he had to see the rest of her.

His lips curled in a smile. Despite hating every single one of these events, he had to admit they had but one perk- women had a weakness for lost little boys who wanted nothing more than to be loved. They simpered and swallowed every drop of emotional BS that spewed from his mouth before letting him under their skirts. And by the way her hips and ass moved under all that red fabric, he really didn't think he'd had to work too hard.

"Ladies," he interrupted jumping off the stool in one smooth move. "It was a pleasure." He bowed uncaring that he had been rude, heading off towards the woman. If the face matched the ass, oh who was he kidding, even if it didn't, he was about to get laid.

He clearly deserved as much.

As luck would have it, he barely made it halfway when a familiar figure stopped him, another drink in hand. "Logan."

It took him a few seconds to gather his bearings, and turn his libido back a few notches. "Of all the gin joints..."

Duncan Kane allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. "It's been a while, man. How are you?"

That was acceptable conversation after eighteen years, he supposed. His eyes still fixed on his target Logan answered, "it's been a charmed life. How about you?"

Duncan nodded, as though understanding. "Pretty well actually. You know, married, employed, adult life; all I'm missing are diapers and car seats."

And thank god for that; he didn't think the world was ready for any more Kanes. An awkward lull settled over the conversation as Logan briefly wondered how they had ever been best friends- they never really shared anything important despite knowing each other since kindergarten. Best friends were supposed to be forever, except in their case, it was more best friends till your sister screws my dad.

"I don't know if you had heard," Duncan said seriously. "Senator Kane now."

Oh he had; he just chose to ignore it. Banish the nugget to the back of his mind and pretend it wasn't real. Celeste probably threw a party for all of Neptune and possibly LA. He would have been surprised if there hadn't been any sky writing or congratulatory blimps involved.

"I had heard of course. Congratulations," he said wholly lacking sincerity. Besides the fact that he didn't care much for politics, he would just as rather stay as far away from the Kanes as possible. And because it was expected he added, "and Jake? Celeste? Lilly?"

"My parents are traveling through the country. You know…. networking."

Networking, that's what the kids called it these days. They needed someone to back their baby boy when their billions alone weren't enough.

Duncan at least had the decency to look abashed. "And Lilly is dating Bruce Willis now. And maybe one of One Direction boys. You know, living the Hollywood life."

Of course she was. "Glad she's not around making me call her 'mother dearest.'" Logan laughed awkwardly; he flashed back to the short-lived yet explosive almost wedding between his ex and his dad. Definitely not good times.

Another one of those reasons why they never kept in touch.

"Listen, we should hang out. Catch up you know," Duncan, continued to speak but the blonde who approached them distracted Logan's attention. She seemed to sashay through the crowd, her eyes focused solely on him.

Come to papa.

He was gawking, maybe even ogling and his heart thudded in sync with her feet when she wrapped her arm around Duncan.

"Logan? Meet my wife. Veronica."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Motherfu... Logan had run out of creative expletives as he waited for the valet to bring around his Porsche. He needed to get out of here.

He recognized her the instant she wore that adoring look on her face as she glanced up at Duncan. Little Ronnie Mars, Lilly's own Betty contrary to the name, and Duncan the golden child- childhood sweethearts. She had grown up well, he conceded grudgingly. More than well. He briefly recalled the single moment of horror and pity on her face as her dad helped him and Lynn get away from Neptune that night. He hadn't spoken to her since.

Mostly because he was a fucking pussy.

"Hi again," a soft voice spoke up next to him, and Logan groaned. It was like the universe had picked the single worst moment to punish him for being a dick.

"Hey," he sighed wearily. The valet was taking a goddamn long time and he really wasn't drunk enough for this.

"Duncan said you wanted to catch up," she began hesitantly before trailing off. Logan raised an eyebrow in surprise. Perhaps she was more affected than she let on? No, that was probably the alcohol talking. Veronica Mars had been in love with Duncan Kane since the beginning of time- nothing new there.

"Leaving already?" He tried to change the subject.

She shrugged. "I have nothing in common with those people. I came because you would be here," she looked directly into his eyes and Logan took a couple steps back.

Maybe spending all that time with Lilly Kane had finally rubbed off on her. It angered him that the Kanes had corrupted yet another innocent. Veronica had always seemed above their moral universe and yet here she was propositioning him at the valet.

"What is it? A quick fuck with the son of the Expendables III star? In my car? Or maybe the hotel three blocks down," he snapped, moving closer to her. His voice had lowered several pitches and his hands hovered her bare shoulders, his breath ghosting over her face. "I would suggest my car but I think it would be a little too cramped even with someone as tiny as you. " Contrary to the bite in his words, he probably wouldn't have put much of a fight if she had said yes.

Perhaps he had lesser self respect than he thought.

She looked genuinely shocked for a second before schooling her surprise. "This was a mistake," she noted sadly before moving away. "Take care, Logan," she said and then added so quietly that he was convinced he had misheard it.

"I thought you could help me."

An unresolved hard on coupled with that glass of Scotch seemed to be his undoing as he sped down the hilly terrain with the top down. It was a cool night, even by LA standards, and he allowed himself to enjoy the reprieve for as long as it lasted. The Boxster, a by product of Aaron trying to buy back his love roared down the streets as he drove in circles. His conversation with Veronica had been the nail in the coffin to a truly miserable evening. Or maybe it was the fact that she was married to good ol' Donut. And what the fuck did she mean by he could help? Was she in trouble?

Fucking Duncan.

Logan banged his hands on the steering wheel as he stopped at a light. He hadn't signed up for this. What he needed was to go home, get wasted, and pity himself to sleep before heading out to work tomorrow.

The thought of work sobered him up almost instantly. If there was one good thing in his life, he had the ability to help people, no small part a direct result of his interactions with Veronica's dad. He belatedly realized that it had been more than a few years since he had kept in touch with the former sheriff. He ought to have at least asked Veronica to pass a message onto her dad but he was too busy being an asshole. He cursed under his breath, vowing to make that phone call as soon as possible when the Bluetooth in his car pinged.

"Detective Echolls," he answered without a second thought.

"You close to the Hills, man?" His partner's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Yeah," Logan answered hesitantly before sparing a glance at the clock on the dashboard. He had been driving nearly three hours and gotten nowhere. It was late, and when you received a call from your partner on your night off, at this time, it was never good.

"Possible homicide," his partner confirmed before uttering words that would destroy all vestiges of self-pity. "Home of Senator Duncan Kane. The address is 222…"

Veronica. Fuck.