Veronica and Don decided on a walk. No words passed between them as they walked the few blocks to the beach. The boardwalk creaked and groaned under well worn tennis shoes, tired as the thoughts running through their heads. Don's hands swung beside him naturally, but his lip was being gnawed on. Veronica, anytime her nemesis' name was mentioned, did what she always had done. She withdrew into herself. She kept her hands in the tiny pockets of her shorts. Her forehead wrinkled with annoyance.

They reached the end of their stroll. The ocean gently slapped against the wood pilings. The ebb and flow was all too familiar.

She wanted to have this conversation years ago. He wanted to have it never. It seemed their wishes were met in the middle as they both spoke at the same time.

"You don't-"

"I want-"

"You go ahead," Veronica offered, so she could cycle through her many rehearsed monologues, quips, and comebacks. Her lips were pursed, ready to aim and fire.

"I shouldn't have to explain myself."

Her jaw dropped. No words. She had no words! Horror-wild eyes blazed with fire to burn him up.

"But, I want to. I owe it to you." He sighed, trying to release the weight of the world, or at the very least brace himself for the long overdue. It was make or break now, wasn't it? "I owe you a lot."

"Yeah, you do," she uttered. That chilled his soul. She was hot and cold, wasn't she?

"If we're going to do this, you can't do that."

She thought she wasn't doing anything. She was a clueless soap star whose acting skills could use some work.

"You can't play the victim all the time! Other people around you are going through shit. I was going through shit." She didn't have a chance to fire her shots. He continued, "I was in a bad place when I met her, Veronica."

"She was eighteen! She was in high school!" The disgust she felt was evident.

"So were you," he argued, pleading for her to understand. Must he go on? Her twisted features softened. Blue waves were better than her blue pools. He looked to the ocean. "I didn't know it at the time. Who she was to you. But then something happened."

Veronica stood closer to hear him over the water. "She wasn't…"

"She said something about being with me. I heard her talking on her phone one night at the Grand. We'd meet there."

"You can spare me the details." Did Madison have to sleep with every male that Veronica had an interest in? Did she have her own suite at the grand too with an ever revolving door? One comes in, one comes out, one comes in…

"I didn't know she was in high school and still living with her parents. We never went to my place, which I thought was weird, but then I found out why."

Veronica pieced it together in her brain. It all started to come together." Logan and Duncan were staying there. Madison's ex, Dick, naturally, would be there."

"So you would be there to see Duncan or Logan. She knew that. She thought being with me, there, would get at you in some way."

"And she was right." She didn't like how she came across, but it was better than the painted picture of Madison.

He felt brave enough to look at her. Really look at her. "Was she?" He was inviting verbal combat, but he had to know.

She was silent still. Don couldn't decide if that was comforting or not. It was in character of her to spar with him, but on the other hand, they were treading into new territory and it was all made out of broken glass and egg shells. They had to be careful here.

"You and Madison both have blonde hair."

"Did the head injury make you forget you're in California? Everyone is blonde."

"And you have the same kind of pointy cute chin."

Veronica couldn't help but rub hers. Her cute chin.

"But her eyes weren't blue. And she was… horrible." He laughed. God. Why was he such an idiot? He only now came to realize it for himself. "She was a surrogate for you. A stand-in. Veronica, I-"

RING!

RING!

Of course her phone was ringing. Of course it wasn't on silent.

This was a mistake. They didn't need to talk about this. About Madison. They were fine. He should leave. Or let the ocean swallow him up and spit him out when there is no more feelings soaring through his being. He was so stupid!

His brother had to be born the sociopath. Why couldn't it be him?

She turned her back to him and answered with faux cheer, "what's shakin', Daddy-O?"

Keith's voice was loud as it traveled out the speaker of Veronica's phone.

"Veronica, honey, they moved Duncan's court hearing to today."

Duncan? Duncan Kane? That name made Don's blood boil and his face heat in humiliation. That kid slipping out of his fingers in front of the FBI was beyond embarrassing.

"It starts in an hour. Cliff and I are on our way. Veronica, it's a big deal."

"I've always been partial to gherkins." Leave it to Veronica to make a joke at the worst of times. "Do you know what room?"

"They're keeping it underwraps, given his wanted status. The press are already all over it. The sooner we get there the better. We can pick you up if you're not busy. I'm sure the Mars family's mere presence will scare the living daylights out of every court official and sheriff's deputy."

Keith wasn't wrong. Don wanted to laugh, amused by his former boss, but he was still torn up over his talk with Veronica. Did they ever finish talking? It felt like it was up in the air, suspended in time. And what was this about Duncan? Was he back? Did the FBI know?

Veronica looked up and down the street. "Is he going to be there?"

"Supposedly, Clarence Wiedman is bringing him." Duncan Kane was back and Don was going to be sick.

"Where are you?"

"Near Hearst Stadium." She calculated the distance between there and where she stood avoiding her problems and feelings. Would they get to her quicker than she could walk away from this conversation? The short answer: no. The long answer: she already had. "I'm at the boardwalk With Lamb. Come pick me up."

That wounded him. They were really back to that, after everything? He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe her!

Veronica hung up the phone and tensed up. She turned fast, too fast for someone who wants no part in this conversation anymore. She ached to disappear. And when she finally turned around to face Lamb, she was alone; his retreating form was down the boardwalk.