Author's Note: The two questions the recruiter asks Veronica come from questions actual Microsoft and other companies ask certain potential employees -- or asked, anyway, according to William Poundstone's How Would You Move Mount Fuji?

Also: I'm not going to try to do the accent. Please, god, don't make me try to do the accent.

Disclaimer: The plot's mine; so's Sheila Kelly, more or less. Everything else belongs to either Joss Whedon or Rob Thomas. I use some more dialogue from the episode What's My Line.

X X X X X

My first thought was that they couldn't possibly be sending me the same place Willow and Oz were going.

They were going to a special event arranged by computer company whose name escaped me, but which was not Kane Software.

That led me to my second thought: What the hell was Jake Kane doing allowing another computer company into his territory to poach possible future employees?

Unless the universe had changed and it was Kane Software who'd called this meeting. No. That was impossible. They might call in Willow and Oz, but there was no chance in Hell Jake Kane would single me out for this kind of thing. And anyone in his organization who suggested it, with the possible exception of Clarence Weidman, would get fired.

Clarence Weidman not only knew where the bodies were buried, he was probably the one who'd put them there. If there was any normal human in Sunnydale who was even remotely justified in feeling safe while walking alone at night, it was him.

Clarence had one mandate: Protect the Kanes at all costs. Don't bother telling the Kanes what you're doing; that gives them plausible deniability. It was an odd kind of honor, and I wondered more than once what the hell Jake Kane had done to earn it.

At the moment, Dad was more in his line of fire than I was – but if Clarence learned that Dad didn't think that Duncan Kane had killed his sister, he would pretty much officially no longer give a good goddamn what we did about investigating Lilly's death. He would have done his job.

I was still mulling this over a couple of hours later when I walked into the school lounge for the career fair and almost ran into Logan. "I thought you didn't have to be here today."

"I'm here freely and of my own will," Logan said. "Free time may sound exciting in theory, Mars, but when you're under the rule of a tyrant who won't let you do much of anything fun, the practice can be boring as hell. So I figured I'd wander around and see if anything interesting caught my attention. So far, you're it."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or suspicious that I've just been damned by faint praise," I said.

"Yes," Logan said, smirking.

"So. The tyrant in question. Snyder or your father?"

Chuckling, Logan said, "The former. My father lets me have fun. Occasionally. And he gets to define fun."

"May I assume that your inspirational thought of the day will be sic semper tyrannis?" I asked.

Another chuckle. "While I am indeed part of a family of actors, Principal Snyder is no Abraham Lincoln. And speak of the tyrant --" He gestured; I looked and saw Snyder just walking down the stairs. "And on that note, Mars, I must skedaddle. My peeks in at these potential careers are strictly unofficial." He nodded his head slightly, and left.

I walked over to where Snyder had cornered Xander and Willow "And don't feed me that 'I just saw her a minute ago, she's around here somewhere" story," the principal said.

Right. Buffy and Giles right now were investigating that tomb Dalton had broken into last night.

"But I did just see her a minute ago!" Willow protested. "And she is around here somewhere!"

"I saw her not five minutes ago," I said.

Snyder spun. If anything, the look on his face became even more sour. He already had that look of a man who just found half a maggot in his steak, so now he came off like someone who'd just been told they had to eat the other half. "Mars," he said. "I wouldn't trust you if you said water was wet."

"Water's wet," I said cheerfully.

"Fascinating," he muttered as he walked away.

"And now," Xander said, "With any luck, he'll go soak his head in a bucket of it just to check."

Willow looked at him and said, "Live in hope."

To me, Xander said, "Thanks for trying, anyway. Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but I got an appointment with the warden on standard riot procedure. Ciao."

As he walked away, two men in dark suits walked up.

"This is convenient," one of them said, "Willow Rosenberg? Veronica Mars? Come with us, please."

I played along. "Are we under arrest?"

"Hardly," the other one said. "Let's walk." Yes, I'd been right. They walked us over to a section of the lounge that had been curtained off. One of them held the curtain up and gestured for us to walk in. The waiter immediately offered us the infamous canapés. I tried one. Not bad. I took another one as Willow declined.

"What is all this?" Willow asked. The recruiter gave his speech. "The world's leading software company" wanted to recruit us. And the head recruiter was Nathan McCarthy.

"I'm surprised Jake Kane is letting you fish in his pond," I said.

The recruiter smiled slightly. "He had no choice. We sponsored the career fair."

After he said that he'd been tracking us for some time I said, "Why me? I can use a computer, but I'm hardly a programming genius like Willow here."

"Why are manhole covers round?" was the seeming non sequitur he came up with next.

"To fit the manholes," I shot back.

"If you could get rid of any state in the country, what would it be?" he said.

"Define 'Get rid of," I said. "Would the state secede? Would we simply lose the land? Would everyone in the state be killed? Give me an answer and I'll give you one."

He said, "That's why. Companies such as ours need innovative people, Miss Mars. People who take offbeat questions and come up with offbeat answers. Who not only think outside the box, but reject the idea that there was ever a box in the first place. That's you. Whether you can code is irrelevant. We also need people who can think."

Good answer.

"You three," the recruiter continued, "Are the only ones in the school we've approached in this way. Think about that." Then they both left.

Willow and I looked at each other for a minute, then turned around. Oz was there.

Looking, it must be noted, primarily at Willow. "Canapé?" he offered.

"They really are good," I told Willow. "Hi, Oz."

"Hey. Veronica. Good to see you again." After a second, "Did you ever –" he broke it off there.

He was asking me about my investigation of my rape at Cordelia's Christmas party. Unfortunately, the investigation had fizzled out. I still felt fairly sure Warren Mears had done it, but I had no proof, and no way to get any. I appreciated his discretion.

"It's been resolved," I said. "Though not quite to my satisfaction."

"Hmm. Hope it does resolve," he said. I thanked him.

"So," Willow said, stammering slightly. "You're a computer genius?"

"Genius? No. I know programming, and I'm good with hardware. Not my life's ambition," he said.

And the two of them turned their attention to each other, and I was left as the third wheel I so often came off as. Not that it bothered me. Of all the relationships in the Buffyverse, Willow/Oz was my second favorite. Unfortunately for Oz, my first was Willow/Tara.

Of course, that was a long way off.

I sat there and read until the head recruiter showed up. He gave his pitch, we listened politely, and he said he'd be in touch. It was a standard speech. Honestly, I was kind of disappointed. All this setup and, pfft. Fizzle city.

Or, in the immortal words of Xander Harris: "Big overture. Leeeeetle show."

Then exeunt omnes, in various directions. Oz nodded once as he left. Willow stayed with me for a few minutes. "So," she said, "What did you think?"

"The head recruiter and the man who took us into the room should've switched places," I said.

"Highly uninteresting," she said. "And now I guess we get to twiddle our thumbs tomorrow while everyone else is learning about their career opportunities."

"You really wanted to see what the test said, didn't you?" I asked.

"Of course!" she said. "I mean, what's the point of taking a test if you don't get to see how you did. It's – it's unnatural, that's what it is." Willow was working herself up into a state of high dander.

"I'm a little annoyed, myself," I said. "But I'll get over it."

After a second, she said, "You've met Oz before?"

"I was working on a case a couple of months ago," I said. "He and his band were playing the place where the incident occurred and I needed to see if they knew anything."

"Ah. Did he help?"

"He was able to point me in the right direction," I said.

"Good. Thanks. You know, for the information."

We went our separate ways.

X X X X X

Sheila had been beyond amused by the interior decorator. "'scool, manhunter. I just kept asking her questions about how she knew which colors went together, or how a corner table can throw off or make a room."

"Did she answer?"

"First she started talking aesthetics and all that, but it all boiled down to her just knowing. By that point I wasn't the only one saying 'But why?'"

Smiling slightly, I said, "You know, it's wrong to make a grown woman cry."

"Yeah. 'sfun, though."

A bit more quietly, I said, "Any more progress on your spells?"

She grinned. "I can find the target every time. I'm also able to do this." We walked into my "office," I hung up the "closed for repairs" sign, and she said, "Turn out the lights."

I did. "Just for the record," I said. "You do know that certain of the more unpleasant residents of Sunnydale like to hang around in the dark?" Sure, I doubted any of them had wandered into the Sunnydale High girl's room, but I wasn't a hundred percent certain --

"We won't be in the dark for long," Sheila said.

And then her hand was glowing. It wasn't daylight-bright, but I could definitely see now.

I tried to pretend I wasn't impressed. "Good. So now you can rent yourself out as a flashlight." Truth be told, though, it had taken Willow longer to get through basic telekinesis. Either Sheila was a lot more powerful -- which I doubted -- or Sheila was learning faster because Willow was mostly self-taught. Amy Madison had had her mother's paraphernalia (and, unfortunately, sense of morals), which may be why she was able to learn so quickly; and Tara's mother taught her.

Even though Rae Mistwood wasn't a practicing witch, I'm betting Sheila was doing better because she was being taught by someone who at least had some idea what they were doing.

-- and because she'd made damn sure to wait until someone else said they thought she was ready.

She punched me on the shoulder. "Funny, manhunter. Naah. This was just something else fairly simple I could try. Apparently with practice I'm 'sposed to be able to get it as bright as the sun, if I want. Right now it just looks like I'm a damn firefly."

"Not quite," I said, grinning. "If you were a firefly something else would be glowing."

It took Sheila a second to get that. When she did, she laughed. "That might be fun, too."

X X X X X

Later on that day, I was sitting with Xander and Willow around the library table. Apparently Buffy had called in and said Giles wanted me to be there

This was already different from canon. By now, Giles and Buffy should be back and regaling everyone with their adventures in figuring out that Dalton had stolen the cross that translated the code that encrypted the spell that saved Drusilla . . . that killed the cat, that ate the rat, that lived in the house that Jack built.

Instead, Xander was telling us about standard riot procedure. And he didn't seem enthused by the prospect of making that his career.

"It's one test," I finally said as he worn down. "You don't need to be bound by it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't get wined and dined by the biggest software company in the country," Xander said.

"No wine," Willow said, then looked at me. "Was there wine?"

"Snyder would have had conniption fits," I said.

Xander looked heavenwards. "O might God, please let there have been wine."

"There wasn't wine," I said firmly.

"See, now, that's why I don't pray," Xander said.

Buffy and Giles entered the room at that point.

They weren't alone.

Kendra followed them in.

As in "Kendra, de vampire slayer." Giles introduced her as such. Without the accent.

"I was right," Xander said.

"It would appear so," Giles said. "Mr. Zabuto -- Kendra's watcher -- and I have been in contact and we have agreed that or the duration Buffy and Kendra should work together."

"And who are these people?" Kendra demanded as she walked into the library. "Do you not know that a Slayer works alone?"

"These are my friends," Buffy said.

Kendra stared blankly.

"Buddies? Amigos? People I hang with?""

Looking at Giles, Kendra said. "And you permit this?"

"Permit nothing," Buffy said. "He couldn't stop me if he tried." He looked up at her. "Fortunately, he doesn't try."

"Yes, um, well, I know better than to engage in futile tasks," Giles said. "Let's just say, Kendra, that under the circumstances, the Slayer Handbook did not appear to be the best way to deal with Buffy."

"There was a Slayer handbook?" Willow asked.

"Yes," Giles said. "Kendra: These are Buffy's friends. This is Willow, Xander, and Veronica. And they do assist us. If you would take a seat, there is much to discuss."

Kendra sat next to me. "I still do not like this."

"Like it or not, they're staying," Buffy said. "Giles?"

And we discussed the Du Lac cross I mentioned earlier -- and decided to try to pre-empt the thieves by figuring out what was in the book they stole before they did. "Miss Mars," Giles said. "I believe this is close enough to being an apocalypse for me to be able to request your assistance."

"' A dark power rising' is a bit vague, but toss in those assassins --" I broke off as everyone else started looking at me as though I had two heads. "You did mention the assassins," I said.

"Well, there was a lot else to do," he said. "I did confirm them, though."

"Oh, wonderful," I said.

"Giles?" Buffy said. "Assassins?"

"Um, yes," Giles said. "It turns out that someone has hired the Order of Taraka to kill Buffy. I was unable to confirm who ordered the killing." He briefly explained who they were.

Kendra's head shot up. "The order of Taraka? They are ruthless!"

"I figured from the word assassins that they weren't fluffy bunnies," Buffy said. "Giles, this can't be a coincidence."

"I should say not," Giles said. "You need to be very careful. If you had any plans for the night, I would cancel them." Buffy's face fell. Oblivious to this, Giles added, "Also, I would inform Angel."

"I can do both at the same time," Buffy said. "I was going to go skating with him."

Kendra said, "Angel?"

"Another ally," Giles said. "A vampire. But with a soul."

"Angelus is a monster," Kendra said.

"Angelus was a monster," Buffy said. "Angel --"

"He's just a pain in our ass," Xander said. "But much as I hate to admit it, he's not one of the bad guys. Tell him I said so, though, and I'll deny it."

"Thank you, sir," Kendra mumbled.

Then everyone started talking at once, while I thought. There were three assassins. The wormy dude, the gun nut, and the "Cyclops." One-eye was scheduled to attack tonight while Buffy was skating.

There were already too many changes to canon for me to be completely comfortable. True, Kendra now knew about Angel and wasn't likely to attack him, and it was that attack which set him up to be kidnapped by Spike. One-eye had to attack tonight.

"I have an idea," I said. "Buffy should go skating."

"I'm assuming you don't actively want her dead," Giles said.

"No. But if Buffy seems vulnerable, maybe you can set a trap."

Giles slowly nodded. "It has potential, I suppose"

We began to discuss how to set that trap, and internally I breathed a half-sigh of relief. Those things that could be changed for the good, had been; those which couldn't were still going to go more or less according to canon.

So far, so good.

(I know. I know.)

"