Disclaimer: Rob owns the VM characters, Joss the Buffy characters, me the plot and this expansion of who "Sheila Kelly" could have been.
X X X X X
Keeping an eye on Angel didn't take as much time as I'd been afraid it would. I hung across the street from the alley the Sunset Club was on (wearing a cross and holding my holy water pistol; Keith Mars raised no fools) and waited.
As sunset approached, I saw a few vampire wannabes walk into the alley -- dressed so garishly that Anne Rice would have laughed. Then the one who really mattered in the future of the Buffyverse:
Chantarelle, aka -- dammit -- Lilly, aka Anne Steele.
If Buffy doesn't run away to Los Angeles, she doesn't save Anne, or shut down the entry to that pocket hell dimension. Not only does Anne not do the good she'd do with that homeless shelter, the hell dimension would keep kidnapping kids and working them to death.
Buffy would only run away if Angel was dead.
That didn't mean Buffy wouldn't go to Los Angeles only if Angel was dead. Maybe Buffy would go to LA to visit her father anyway. Hank Summers didn't finish becoming an asshole until later in the series.
If I had to directly tell someone about the hell dimension, I would, even if I had to wait until right around the time season three started to avoid any potential trouble with the Adversary. It would be clumsy, but I wasn't necessarily counting on keeping my cover that long anyway.
It was Anne I was more worried about under those circumstances. I didn't think I could guarantee her exact future.
I'd have to leave that for the moment. I didn't plan on sacrificing anyone if I could help it, but I might not be able to.
It's hard to play God when one has only a limited kind of omniscience and no omnipotence to speak of. I didn't need a lousy Jim Carrey movie to tell me that. (Don't worry, by the way. I'm using God as a metaphor only. I'm neither insane nor egotistical.)
Of course, possibly that was The Adversary's point.
Not long after sundown, Angel entered the alley, followed closely by Willow and Xander. I only overheard a fragment of their conversation.
". . . could have asked me," Willow said.
"I almost did," Angel said. "But I didn't want to get you in trouble with Buffy if she found out you'd been helping me check up on her 'old friend.'" Yes, I could hear the quotation marks.
"And this is not checking up how?" Xander asked.
"I dragged you into it," Angel said. "You believed Buffy but I forced you into it using my evil vampire ways."
"Oooh. I like that," Xander said.
Angel's response was too indistinct for me to make out. But it didn't matter. They were here, the Sunset Club wasn't far away, and I was getting my short blonde self back inside as soon as humanly possible.
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.
"And what have you been doing with yourself tonight?" Dad asked when I walked in.
"Oh, the usual. Pimping myself out on street corners, hustling a little smack on the side. 'sall good."
"As long as I get my cut, sweetie," he said. "What are those books?" He took a closer look. Sheila had the magic book with her but I had the ones on werewolves and vampires. "Halloween was a few weeks ago," he said.
"So that's why I got the funny looks when I wore the clown costume this morning," I said. "Relax. It's research. Sheila's actually thinking of writing a book and asked me to look a few things up for her."
"Sheila?" Dad said. I nodded. "Sheila Kelly?" just in case there were any other Sheilas wandering around I'd forgotten to tell him about.
"Yes, Sheila Kelly. Is that hard to believe?"
"Not that I'm passing judgment on your taste in friends, but isn't this the same Sheila Kelly who's been in the Sheriff's office off and on since she turned 13?" Sheila had done some time in juvy for a couple of bouts of drunk and disorderly, so Dad's concern was not exactly misplaced. Still.
"Same one," I admitted. "But she's turned herself around recently. No drugs, no booze, fewer guys, and she's actually putting forth an effort in school." She still terrorized the teachers, but it was through attitude only. I wouldn't have put it past her to put Snyder through a wall, but I think everyone in the building wanted to do that.
And quite a few people out of the building.
And probably anyone who'd ever met him.
Including his mother.
Assuming he hadn't somehow spontaneously generated from a pile of garbage.
Did I mention I didn't like the man?
I think that was de rigueur for living in Sunnydale.
My contrast, my memories of Vice (and then drop the vice) Principal Clemmons were warm and fuzzy.
So, the principal, the mayor (who admittedly hadn't made an appearance yet), and the sheriff. One might well wondered if I liked any authority figures.
Yup.
Keith Mars.
That's the important one.
Anyway.
Dad said reprovingly, "Sweetie --"
Interrupting him, I said, "Dad. I know, as Sheriff, you've seen a lot of criminals. Are you telling me none of them ever reformed? Ever figured out they were on the wrong track?"
"It's not common," he said. "Especially when there's no outside catalyst."
"So that's what you're looking for," I said. "Done and done. A few nights before that gang on crystal meth invaded the school, Sheila was almost mugged when she was drunk. The two guys she was with took off, and if someone else hadn't happened by and run the muggers off -- well, she saw what could have happened, and she didn't like it."
"And you're friends with her because . . ."
"We bonded during that whole forced volunteerism thing, where Snyder made Buffy and Sheila and I decorate the student lounge. Hey, as Buffy says: We outcasts have to stick together."
Dad nodded. "Fair enough. Just be careful."
"Hey, that's my middle name."
"That's not what it says on your birth certificate."
"I went out and had it changed while you weren't looking."
"Ah. Well, glad we got that cleared up."
"Anytime."
X X X X X
The Adversary was true to his word. Give that to the bastard, at least. That night, as I dreamt, he simply approached me himself. Lilly's shade was nowhere in sight.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I was going to answer your question."
"Good. So, tell me, what is the meaning of life?"
"A Monty Python movie," he said. "No, I meant why you have no magic."
"I assumed it was just to screw with me," I said.
He actually sounded offended. "Miss Mars," he said. "I would never do that."
"And what do you call my tour through Buffy season 2?" I demanded. "Showing a girl a good time?"
"Miss Mars, 'screwing with you' implies the mentality of a childish practical joker. I assure you. There is nothing childish about what I'm doing."
"The old I/You/He game," I said. "I am manipulating people for a higher end. You are Machiavellian. He likes screwing with people's heads."
"If you choose to see it that way," he said, "I can't stop you. But that isn't the point of this visit. You have no magic because that would have been outside the scope of our agreement. If you could figure out what spells to cast to fix things, then you would not be acting like Veronica Mars, but like a denizen of this universe. You said that with your knowledge of the future of this universe's future you could change things for the better. You did not say 'with your knowledge of the future and a couple of really cool spellbooks.'"
"And my immunity?"
"Came with the inability to cast spells," he said. "I want you to survive long enough to actually test our wager. I have no interest in winning by default."
"How sporting," I said sarcastically.
"I always live up to my end," the Adversary said. "I do not cheat, I do not lie, and I do not change the rules in the middle of the game." He paused, then added, "I do want you to know something else, though. You've been wondering lately whether there was a definite end to the game. The answer to that is yes. The end comes when you make a choice."
"I assume figuring out what that choice is is up to me?"
"You'll recognize it when you have to make it," he said. "I can assure you of that. What happens afterwards is entirely up to you."
I woke up shortly afterwards.
Oh boy.
Sounds like there's fun-aplenty comin'.
X X X X X
Sheila buttonholed me almost the second I got into the school. "'scool book," she said. "Don't know if I'll be able to pull it off, though."
"Why?" I asked, keeping my tone carefully neutral.
"It involves a lot of meditation and getting calm," she said. "Think about it, manhunter. I'm about as calm and peaceful as a rabid weasel on a Jolt Cola kick. I'm never going to be able to learn how to meditate."
"Do you want to try?" I asked.
"Some of it sounds like it might be fun," she said. "Long as I don't get too crazy with it or anything. But calming myself down, that's the problem."
"Maybe Pete or Rae can put you in touch with someone experienced," I said. "If you're really interested."
"I'll give it some thought. You have the Sherlock Holmes books?" I handed them to her. "Thanks. When're we going to start the class?"
"This weekend, probably."
"'sgood. Thanks."
If I remembered correctly, last night in Lie to Me was pretty busy. Angel, Willow, and Xander went to the Sunset Club, Ford was caught lying when he said he killed a vampire, the vampire stole something from the library, and Angel and Buffy had a discussion at her house.
I rounded a corner to head up some stairs after talking to Sheila and ran smack into another scene. Buffy was talking to Willow and Xander. Willow, looking guilty, said, "When Angel came to us he was really concerned about you, and we didn't want to say anything in case we were wrong."
"Did you find out what Ford is up to?" Xander asked.
"I will," Buffy said as she turned around. Once she saw me, her face twisted a bit. "Veronica," she said. "Walk and talk?"
The tone was perky, but from the way she grabbed my arm I got the feeling it was a choice between walk and talk or walk and be dragged. Since being dragged would only give people another reason to laugh and point as I walked by, I chose to walk. (Don't get me wrong. The laughing and pointing, figurative for the most part but occasionally literal, doesn't actually bother me. But it does kind of inhibit my ability to spread fear when I'm trying to do an investigation.)
We stopped in front of my "office." "Hold on," I said, checking inside the women's room. It was empty, so I put the "Out of Order" sign on in and told Buffy to follow me inside. "Yes?" I asked.
"Angel hired you." It wasn't a question, so I didn't say anything. "Right?"
"If he did," I said, and of course she knew I did, there was no way she would have known if he hadn't told her, "That's between me and him."
"He told me he did."
"Then why are you asking me?" I said. "If he told you, he told you why, and what, and who. He paid me; and it turned out he had reason to be suspicious. So what's the problem?"
A pause, then, "I don't know. I thought there was something about we short blonde outcasts sticking together."
"This is sticking together," I said. "If he'd hired me to investigate you, I would have told him to bug off. I like you, Buffy. You're one of the few people around here who hasn't treated me like crap. And believe you me, with everyone else acting like I'm something for them to spit into, that's greatly appreciated. But he didn't. This isn't a betrayal. This is what I do. I'm sorry if it hurt you, believe me."
"I -- damn. I guess I do. It's just that it seems like ever since my friend came to town, everyone's been running around behind my back trying to protect me. I can take care of myself."
"Charter member of the 'I can take care of myself' club here. Trust me, I understand. But here's the thing. If Angel hadn't hired me? I wouldn't have done a damn thing about Billy Fordham. I believe you can protect yourself. I saw some of the things you did back when that gang invaded the school. This was a job. Nothing more, nothing less."
"-- okay."
"Still. I'm taking from what I found out and what I overheard that in fact not all is kosher with young Billy?"
"No. It isn't," she said.
"There you go, then. I don't know what his deal is, apart from lying about transferring from your old high school, and now that I'm off the clock I don't care, except in so far as you want to tell me. Which can be nothing. I'm cool with that." Which would be a lot more noble, of course, if I actually didn't know what was going on. As it was, I was being pretty damn cynical. Still, as far as I could, I meant it.
"Maybe, when it's done, I'll tell you."
"Your call," I said, knowing that she couldn't come close to telling me the actual truth. "Anyway, shall we? Just because this is the girls' room doesn't mean Snyder won't stick his head in here if the thinks we're up to no good."
Buffy half-smiled and said, "When are we not?"
And on to class.