Author's Note: I'm not going to go into every episode at the depth of School Hard. This is all more or less by way of introduction.

And yes, I do plan on dealing with Veronica Mars stories as well as Buffyverse ones. But the only two Veronica Mars stories that made the transfer over were one, who raped Veronica, and two, who killed Lilly Kane. Still, Veronica is a detective, not a vampire slayer.

Let's hope she remembers that . . .

Disclaimer: Veronica Mars characters belong to Rob Thomas; Buffy characters belong to Joss Whedon. This particular merging is mine.

X X X X X

So I walked over to the table Buffy and Sheila -- good to know her name now -- were standing at. Sheila looked at me in disbelief, "Shit, manhunter. What'd you do to piss the little troll off?" Xander and Willow had taken the time Snyder was dragging me into this to slink off. I couldn't blame them.

"I exist," I said. "And I treat him with the respect he deserves."

Buffy got right away what I meant: None. "Yeah, I can see why that would bother him," she said. "Anyway, welcome to the club, Veronica. We get to paint and decorate and make juice and snacks."

"Sounds like just barrels of fun," I said. "And any club consisting of those Principal Snyder loathes beyond all reason is a club I'm proud and honored to be a member of." As Buffy and even Sheila laughed a little, I looked up and saw Duncan and Logan enter the lounge.

Duncan caught my eye for about a half second before looking away. I'd say it was half the drugs he was no doubt still taking, and half his ongoing shame at having slept with his "sister." I wanted to go up and tell him what had happened, but I couldn't do that either.

Just like I couldn't tell Dad that Aaron Echolls had killed Lilly. Not yet, anyway. Not telling anyone about their futures encompassed those I'd dragged in here with me, not just the Buffy characters.

Obviously, I'd been wrong about one thing, anyway: The Buffyverse could change. It was not necessarily destined to run the same course it had the first time.

Of course, I'm not arrogant enough to believe that my mere presence would cause Spike to change his plans. (That I wasn't too thrilled at being front and center for School Hard II: School Harder was, of course, a given.) I'd almost certainly just be one more body for Spike to step over on his way to trying to kill Buffy.

But the point is, he'd still have to step over my body. (Okay, time to stop thinking like that, Veronica.) So something had changed. No matter how trivial it was.

If my accidental presence could change things, maybe my intentional presence could do so as well. I'd been instructed not to tell anyone about their futures. I'd never been told not to do anything about them.

Hmmm.

And back to reality; Duncan and Logan had entered the lounge. And while Duncan hovered around the edges, Logan made a beeline for me. Oh, goody. Just what I needed right now. A visit from Sunnydale's premier psychotic jackass while he's at his psychotic jackassiest.

"Well, well," he said. "The two craziest women at Sunnydale High. Stories of your exploits are legendary. So, tell me. What did the two of you do to get stuck with Mars? I'm imagining blasphemy of the highest order."

At this point, it was more or less expected of me to strike back. Much as I might want our relationship to be what it was after Beaver Casablancas threw himself off the roof of the Neptune Grand, it wasn't that now, and possibly would never be that way.

It was something I would have to work on. Whether Logan and I are destined to be each other's "true loves" aside, it would be nice to have fewer enemies.

So, I struck back. "Logan Echolls!" I said with mock enthusiasm. "As I live and vomit. Run out of ninth graders to shake down for their lunch money?" It was a shot where it counted. Much as Logan might rejoice in being a jackass, he would never do anything as plebeian as beat up ninth graders for pocket change.

"I thought I'd go for something that was more of an intellectual challenge," Logan said. "Any idea where I can find one?"

Good return shot. "For you, Logan?" I said. "Kindergarten's two miles down that way. In the elementary school. Can't miss it."

Logan opened his mouth, but Buffy interrupted him. "Logan, if you don't have anything useful to contribute -- which as near as I can tell is pretty much all the time -- the exit is over there. Doorknob, ass, way out, yada yada yada."

"Or what?" Logan asked sardonically. "You'll burn down my house?"

"We crazy women are unpredictable that way," Buffy said. "Kind of what makes us crazy." For her part, Sheila was glaring at as though she wanted to chop him into tiny pieces. To be fair, that was how she glared at everyone, but still.

Logan shook his head. "What the hell is it about this school and short blonde women?" he said, collected Duncan, and walked off.

"Thanks," I told Buffy as Logan and Duncan left. Then, because there was no way I should know about much of Buffy's past, I asked, "Burn down his house?"

"Long story," Buffy said.

I could see it coming. Sheila said, "Troll said she burned down the gym at her old school."

Buffy looked at me and said, "Apparently not that long." I knew she was going to say that

"Did you really burn it down?" Sheila asked.

"I had a good reason to," Buffy said, somewhat lamely.

Sheila laughed. "Any reason's god to me."

We got to work.

I volunteered to make the juice. I remembered what happened the last time.

X X X X X

I dropped by Dad's office and caught up on some paperwork, then did homework until night fell. I wasn't working on any cases at the moment either.

And yes, I still worked on cases. The people of Sunnydale High might not have liked me very much, but they were perfectly willing to pay me to find things, track people down, or figure out whether their girlfriends were cheating. But at the moment, I wasn't doing any of them.

Even if they were, I was going to take the night off. I had an idea. A dangerous idea, but definitely an idea.

First things: I had to start acting like vampires were real. Because, after all, they were. I had a cross necklace, thankfully; a gift from Lilly. Looking out for me from beyond the grave in two different universes.

On second thought, "beyond the grave" had an entirely different meaning in the Buffyverse. Time to scratch that phrase permanently from my vocabulary.

Here, those dreams I was having of Lilly might very well actually be of Lilly, and not just of my own creation.

I talked to Dad briefly before I left the office. He was hot on the trail of the Bailjumper and promised we'd eat steak as soon as he got back.

"I'm looking forward to it." I said. "'cause I know that guy. He's never gonna see you comin'."

"Damn right he won't," Dad said. "Be careful, sweetie. You know Sunnydale's dangerous after dark.

Oh, Dad. You don't know the half of it.

When we stopped talking, I racked my memory to figure out where the magic store was. Giles took it over in season 5; he didn't open it himself. After five minutes of that, it hit me how stupid I was being. I didn't need to rely on my memory; not when I had a Yellow Pages.

It took me thirty seconds to find the store, and ten minutes to get there. (As Cordelia famously remarked, "There's not a whole lot of town.") Once there, I loaded up on holy water while taking a pass on the garlic. I don't think it was ever established in canon whether Buffyverse vampires were vulnerable to garlic, but I wasn't going to be the one doing any experimenting.

Then I stopped off at the toy store and picked up a couple of mini Super-Soakers, and a garden-variety water pistol. I was sure I'd picked up the idea of loading up a water gun with holy water from somewhere in the vast realm of pop culture, but I was damned if I could remember where.

And now it was time to see whether my presence could change more than just trivial things.

X X X X X

I spent most of the rest of the night at The Bronze. I was there when Spike yelled out, "Where's the phone? I need to call the police. There's some big guy out there trying to bite somebody." I did not run to the door; now wasn't the time to get the Scooby gang falling all over themselves trying to come up with pseudo-explanations of what I just saw.

Besides, I wasn't there for them.

I drank several sodas -- boy, would it be fun trying to get to sleep tonight -- and kept my subject under observation, in the meantime playing a game of pool, at which I suck, against someone who sucked only marginally less than I did (Jonathan Levinson, who seemed flustered that I was even talking to him), and reading a poem by William Wordsworth for English -- Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey. I'd never actually read it before, so this was kind of enjoyable.

And then my target -- Sheila-- made her move. Uncharacteristically, I was wearing a hooded jacket; as I followed her out, I pulled it up over my head, and put on a pair of sunglasses. I was about thirty feet behind her.

"Alright," she said. "Which one's Dwayne and which one's Dell. Don't tell me . . ." And then I noticed a pair of arms reach out to grab Dwayne; I shot those arms with a burst from my Supersoaker.

"Jesus Christ!" A familiar voice yelled. Spike. He abandoned all attempts at subtlety and came out into the alley. "What the hell did you do that for?"

Making my voice as deep as I could, I said, "You're not killing her." I wasn't nearly as calm as I felt. I was ready to bolt for the Bronze if I had to. Yes, it was a public place, but at the moment Spike was alone.

Sheila said, "Killing who?" still rather drunkenly.

Spike sighed. "I was gonna make this subtle. But since you ladies insist." His game face came out.

Let me tell you: Seeing it on TV, seeing it in person? Two entirely different things, It took everything I had not to turn and run like hell.

Which is what Dell and Dwayne were doing. If they kept up that pace they'd be in Kern County in about twenty minutes. Sheila, on the other hand, was too stunned, drunk, or probably both to do the same. She said, "What the fuck?"

"It's just as easy to kill two of you," Spike said. I wasn't about to bother with more banter. I simply emptied both Super-Soakers directly into his face. He yelled, "You bitch!" and ran off down the alley.

I made soothing noises to Sheila, waited for a large group of people to come out, and walked to my car. And since I hadn't saved Sheila just to prove I could change the future, she came with me.

I'd proven I could do two things tonight.

One, I'd proven I could face off against a vampire, though believe you me it wasn't something I was planning on doing on a regular basis.

Two, I'd proven I could change the future.

I'm not sure which one was scarier.