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Last night I got subjected to a marathon of The Godfather movies. Technically it wasn’t a marathon, I guess, because we only watched the first two, but since together they totaled up to over six hours and I heard the third one sucked anyway, I’m going to go ahead and say whatever to the dictionary definition of “marathon” is and listen instead to the dull throbbing of my rear end.

Logan’s couch? Only comfortable for so long.

Anyway, marathon? Not a marathon? Not really the point. Watching Marlon Brando and Al Pacino and all of those other people that Logan assured me were understated and brilliant despite the fact that they were shooting each other and putting horse’s heads in each other’s beds (!) only really reminded me of one thing.


Oh, it’s not like we’re under mob rule or anything. If the Fitzpatrick family were anything like the Corleones I’d probably be a lot more worried. As a family of crime lords, they’re bordering on third rate.

The Mars family, however – that means me – what an emulation of the Corleones we are! Not that we’re at all tied into the mob or anything. Exactly the opposite! But the similarities between the relationship between Michael and Don Corleone to the relationship between myself and Dad that it’s really striking! I swear!

Michael was Vito’s favorite son. (I am Dad’s favorite daughter. Only, true, but not the point as we are looking for similarities.) Vito wanted his favorite son away from the family business, so he sent him to the army. (Dad wanted favorite [again, only] daughter away from the family business after she almost got herself killed, so he forced me to get a job at Java the Hutt. Or anywhere but Mars Investigations, really.) Vito almost died several times. (Dad almost died several times.) Michael joined the business. (Dad let me start working back at the agency!) Vito died. There, the similarities end.

It’s true that I am comparing the mob to a PI business, but we’ve investigated that kind of thing before. And the army to Java the Hutt. And Vito Corleone to Keith Mars. And Hearst College to the Senate.

But the similarities are there.

Which of course makes Logan Diane Keaton.

And that final piece of the puzzle just makes complete and total sense.

There is no way in which I am not right. Right?
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After Lilly died, I still saw her all the time. I never told anybody about it, not even my dad – it just would’ve worried him and I probably would have ended up in therapy. Besides. I never figured that it was all that strange. I assumed that even members of the psychiatric community wouldn’t find it entirely unreasonable that my dead best friend would appear constantly, that she would make wisecracks and flip her hair just like she’d never been murdered.

It’s not like I didn’t know it was all in my head. Part of it, I think, was my own guilt, spurring me on to find her killer and bring him to justice. Mostly, I think I just missed my best friend. Once she – or, well, my hallucination of Lilly – told me that her soul was doomed to walk the earth until justice had been served. I don’t know if that was true or not, but I’ve often wondered if I let that get in the way of my investigation. If I maybe let my hallucinations hold me back because I wanted to keep Lilly with me for a little while longer.

Now I don’t think so. Not really, anyway. I always knew that she wasn’t really there and that nothing was going to bring her back and that I was doing all I could do for her by just finding the person who’d taken her away from me. But it’s been something to think about.

Besides, Lilly hasn’t left me. Part of her is always going to be with me, looking out for me. Preventing me from ending up like she did. And that’s real.

Muse: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 277
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What is your most powerful memory?

The past few years have been nothing if not memorable – from getting trapped inside of a burning refrigerator by a psychotic movie star to falling in love with said movie star’s son, I’ve run the full gamut of emotions since Lilly died. From tragic to ironic to absurd, I think I’ve hit every level; but while Aaron and Logan certainly represent powerful moments of my teenage years, I don’t think I’m wrong in stating that none of it would’ve happened if Aaron hadn’t bashed Lilly’s brains in.

I remember everything about that night. Sometimes I close my eyes and Lilly’s body is all I can see, the blood congealing in her long blonde hair and her face wearing an expression of permanent –

I guess permanence is the only word, because she didn’t look peaceful. There was blood everywhere for crying out loud, how can that be peace? And she didn’t look defiant, which I think, under the circumstances, is how she went out. But who knows? The Kanes and Clarence Weidman tampered with her body so much, I have no idea what she might’ve looked like.

Pissed off, I hope. Furious that that bastard had cut her life short, even by a second. Instead, she just looked dead. And Lilly? She was never anything if she wasn’t alive. When Aaron ripped her out of the world, he took away the brightest piece of my life – I don’t care what she’d done to him, how she’d wronged him.

She might’ve screwed him, but he killed her. And standing there at the side of the Kane pool, watching as my dad’s guys got her out of there, I may not have known who killed her just then – but I swore that they weren’t going to get away with it. And that? That vow?

That’s the most vivid memory I’ve got. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being haunted by it.

Name: Veronica Mars
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Word Count: 318


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December 2007

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