Fiction: Always Something There to Rewind Me
Part I, Here’s Looking at You, Kiddo
Author: Cocktail Queen
Word count:
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ten years after high school, a much-changed Veronica Mars revisits Neptune.
Summary: Script-format futurefic
Characters: Veronica, Duncan, Wallace, cast; pairings, you’ll see
Spoilers/Warnings: Season 1
Disclaimer: Rob Thomas & Co. own Veronica. I own too many film noir DVDs, and I’m too bored and Veronica Mars obsessed this summer to stop myself from writing this. Feedback appreciated—I’m new to livejournal and, gulp, to fanfic.


SCENE: AN AIRPLANE INTERIOR
In a claustrophobic airline cabin, a blonde woman in sunglasses and a bomber jacket slumps in her seat. She wears headphones in her ears and a Yankees baseball cap over her spiky, bobbed hair. She shakes what looks to be a gin and tonic as she peers at a copy of “Modern Photography” under her sunglasses. Wilco’s “California Stars” plays.

VERONICA VO: Whoever said “you can’t go home again” obviously didn't know how many red-eyes the airlines operate between New York City and Neptune, California. Then again, whoever uttered those words of wisdom might’ve been smarter than me. Despite its pretty beaches and prettier people, Neptune, California’s got a gritty undertow. I should know: I’ve been swimming in it my whole life.

FLASHBACK—We’re in Neptune, at the office of Mars Investigations. Keith Mars, dressed in a rumpled suit, sits on the sofa next to his daughter Veronica, who is wearing jeans and a faded Stanford sweatshirt. Her hair is longer than in Season One, and she looks upset, defeated even. A large suitcase sits next to her.


KEITH: Do you really think this is the right choice Veronica? New York City is such a long way away, and you’ve got so much history and family here now! Doesn’t this seem kinda, extreme or something? (He pats her on the shoulder.)

VERONICA: (Looking him in the eye, resolute) Dad, I’m going for the beaches (a beat). Plus I hear there are a thousand and one stories in the naked city, and I figure most people won’t care about my sordid tale of sex, lies and streaming video.

(She smiles, and begins to look spunkier.) Call this job “Extreme Makeover: The Fleeing Town” version. “Gotham Lights” is such a great magazine, and shooting photos for them sounds like the best way to escape, well, all this. (She glances at the coffee table, where we can barely see a very unflattering picture of Veronica and Keith exiting a courthouse.) Besides, do you really want me waste that expensive journalism degree?

KEITH: (frowns deeply, rubs his chin) Yeah, and it’s not like you’re going to get to see her that much. And you’ll come back every other weekend, right?

VERONICA: (smiles wryly) Darn, but I bet my 09er party invites will get lost in the mail. Think I should send ‘em all a change of address card? (laughs bitterly)

END FLASHBACK

A wholesome-looking man in his late 20s sits next to the blonde on the plane. He taps her on the shoulder. Looking annoyed, the woman removes her glasses and folds the magazine. We see it is a slightly older version of Veronica Mars—call her Veronica 4.0. She drains her drink before removing her earphones.

VERONICA: Yeah?

MAN: Aren’t you—uh—Veronica Mars? (He looks wide-eyed and a bit abashed.)

VERONICA: Hmm, it depends. (Looks him over) Are you a cine-creep from Access Hollywood, looking for a follow up to one of those unflattering photo essays done during my custody battle? Are you looking for one more quote about what a bad mother I am for Ladies Home Journal ? (Defensive) I’m not interested. Ancient friggin’ history. (She puts her shades back on.)

MAN: No, um, I think I used to have history with you. Senior year, Ms. Swenson’s class, at Neptune? (He smiles sheepishly, and Veronica warms up a bit and pushes the glasses back on her head.)

VERONICA: Oh, gosh, yes, (she’s clearly wracking her brain and doesn’t recognize him). Go Pirates! (Said without much enthusiasm) Weren’t Swenson’s pop quizzes on the Industrial Revolution fit for Luddites, um-Jack?

MAN: (Grins) James. James Bovary (he shakes her hand).

VERONICA: (She still looks like she doesn’t remembers him, but she fakes it.) Oh, of course. Right. You were on the, um, fencing team??

JAMES: No, but touché! I left school a semester before graduating, to go on, well, my church mission. (Smiles in a wholesome way.) I finished up high school in Utah. But I decided to come back for the 10-year class reunion anyway. You know, renew old friendships. (We fade on them talking, James more animated than Veronica, but Veronica playing along.)

VERONICA VO: Nope, the only church I’ve worshipped at in years is the Church of Bad Decisions, right up there in pew one. Like marrying my high-school sweetheart. And coming home for this bleeding reunion.

CUT: PLAY CREDITS

NEPTUNE REGIONAL AIRPORT- Veronica pulls her suitcase through the security gate at a tropical-looking airport. James, walking behind her, waves goodbye. She pauses in front of a life-sized plastic statue of Poseidon. Bearded and goofy looking, it clutches a surfboard emblazoned with the phrase “Neptune: Surf’s Not the Only Thing Up.” She grimaces and touches his trident, not seeing WALLACE FENNEL coming up behind her.

WALLACE: V! Whatcha doin’ hangin with this dude? (He hugs her.) Is this another one of your conquests?

VERONICA: (Pulls back from him and grins.) Bro! Nah, I think one ex-husband, a couple of gnarly ex boyfriends and my fine New York man’ll do me better than Mr. Plastic Fantastic. (beat)

WALLACE: How is old Richard? Still shrinkin’ heads and stealin’ hearts?

VERONICA: That’s him, Dr. Dreamy. He’s fine, not coming to the reunion—um, he claims I’ve got high-school “issues” I still need to work out. (beat, she looks at the statue again.) It’s good to know this town remains on theme. Stupid, but on theme. (She looks up, noticing a large plasma screen behind Poseidon. It plays a wild looking montage of people surfing, good-looking couples dining in cafes and a few convention and visitor type shots of Neptune.)

WALLACE: Don’t you know, this chicken of the sea was Duncan’s idea? (gestures widely) Promoting Neptune as a tourist destination, and tryin’ to get rid of that “teenage murder capital of California” rep?

VERONICA: Aw, Fishman here is good-will ambassador? (She put her arm around Poseidon.)

WALLACE: Yep, straight from your ex husband, hizzoner the mayor.

VERONICA: Oh God. No wonder they call him Mayor McCheese. This stuff is awful (looks disgusted). Duncan, Duncan, Duncan.

WALLACE: (points at the TV monitor, which has switched to some slightly grittier footage of dance clubs with a punky soundtrack.) But at least the video’s cool—I heard it was done by that hot new mix master—what’s his name? Shel Silverstein? Shelly Long?

VERONICA: Oh, yeah (wrinkles forehead). The Shell Conspiracy—they’ve been doing all those videos for the Dandy Warhols and U2! Gotham wanted to do a story on the founder, but she—or he, nobody really knows—is really reclusive or something. A Howard Hughes type who goes by the moniker of Shell Onwheel or something. They wouldn’t return our calls, and then Shell Conspiracy landed that Grammy and everything. I really wanted to shoot the story though…I bet they’ve got some kick-ass equipment.

WALLACE: Weird, yeah. But these days, they’re about the only folks puttin’ Neptune on the map. Well, along with your beloved former spouse—“the great hope of the Democratic party.”

VERONICA: (Looks troubled.) Is Duncan still going to run for Congress? What’s his platform, Family Devaluation?

WALLACE: (Glances at her sympathetically, pats her on the back. They continue walking.) Well, Duncan’s actin’ a lot nicer since he got engaged. (Grins at her.) Maybe he’ll get your vote? Come on—Keith and my mom have been circling the car outside forever.

VERONICA: So how are the troubled teens at my alma mater, counselor Fennel?

WALLACE: (smirks) They’re troubled—‘cept it’s romance, grades, who’s richer than who—none of that murder and mayhem stress that was happenin’ when we were there.

VERONICA: Ahh, they probably miss the excitement, don’t ya think? (Smiles.) I can’t believe you talked me into the 10-year reunion. Are you just taking me tomorrow night so people can see I haven’t grown hooves and horns?

WALLACE: Nah, remember, Cliff said it might help you look more—I think the word was “for-giv-ing” (Pronounces it like it’s a foreign phrase) when you appeal your case.

VERONICA: Didn’t you hear—they did a recall vote, and we weren’t the King and Queen of the Prom after all! I hope that doesn’t spoil the party for you.

WALLACE: Come on, your chariot awaits. (they leave the airport)

FLASHBACK:
Close up of a sign that reads “Neptune County Courthouse.” It is early evening, the sky is melting into a murky purple-black, and a light rain falls. Duncan, in a pinstriped suit, looks steely-eyed as he dashes away from a throng of reporters and camera-folk. He runs up against a woman in a trench coat grasping an umbrella.

DUNCAN: Veronica! (His face morphs from steely to angry to sad.) What are you doing here…you know we can’t talk like this!

VERONICA: (She’s wearing a rather elegant purple dress with a fur collar and tough-gal boots, yet she looks distraught and puffy eyed.) I said I wanted a separation, a try at living my own life for once. And look what you you’re your parents had my mother’s snuffed out! You took her away, and now you’re stealing Lilly! Someone should give you an “East of Eden” prize for family togetherness.

DUNCAN: What I did? The list of things you did is so long they’d need to stash it at the National Archives! Lust. Lying. They ought to cast you as a regular on “Deadwood.” I know, they can call you Calamity Kane!

VERONICA: (Angry, and not amused at his lame joke.) They cancelled that show years ago, pop culture savant. And while your running down my sins, you forgot about all my gluttony and sloth! (Beat) There’s another side to this—I know somewhere in that passive, mommy’s boy brain you’ve got just a smidge of understanding.

DUNCAN: I loved you Veronica, but I had to go through with this. The sins of the, well, the mothers, can’t be visited on another poor kid.

The camera zooms in on the street outside the courthouse, where an older-but-still sneering Celeste Kane stands under an umbrella held by a chauffeur. In her arms is a wide-eyed little girl, about two years old.

VERONICA: Lilly! (She moves forward toward the child. Celeste begins getting back into the limo as the child begins to cry. Veronica’s voice becomes desperate and ragged.) Duncan! You said I’d never have to lose another Lilly!

DUNCAN: (Looks at her coldly before turning and heading toward the car.) Well, marshmallow, that’s what visitation rights are for. Every other weekend, you’ll find her on your doorstep again. (The car door slams and he rolls down the window.) Unless you can’t stay out of sleazy motels or gin bottles.
END FLASHBACK:

A minivan driven by KEITH MARS pulls up the curb. ALICIA FENNEL sits in the passenger seat. VERONICA’s face lights up as she sees a young girl, about five years old in the back seat. It’s the child from the earlier scene, but older. Veronica hops in the back seat as Wallace stashes her luggage.


VERONICA: Lilly! (Hugs and kisses her) Aw, here’s lookin’ at you, kiddo.

FADE OUT.

The same minivan pulls into a middle-class looking home (a ranch-style affair with a pleasant fountain gurgling outside and lots of geraniums) which we assume is KEITH and ALICIA’s home. VERONICA brightens at the sight of it, and then looks shocked as she gets out of the car with LILLY.

LILLY: Mom, what’s that on the garage?

VERONICA: (Grabs Lilly and turns her from the sight of big, red letters spray painted on the garage door reading “Get back to New York, whore.” She turns to her father et al, “)

This is a lousy message from the Welcome Wagon! I’ll never get elected PTA president at this rate. (Beat)

I thought this town had grown up in the past 10 years, but now…well, someone’s gonna get a dose of cold, Mars-style revenge served in their reunion punch.

FADE OUT

END PART ONE