Disclaimer: Joss, Rob Thomas, Rob aka Mediancat; Buffy, Veronica Mars, this particular merging.

X X X X X

I dreamed of Lilly that night. We were sitting on a dock as the sun was going down. I didn't know if I was supposed to be in Sunnydale or Neptune.

"Welcome to your new world, Veronica Mars," Lilly said.

"So you know?"

"I know what you know," she said. "And you know you're in a new world, and so do I." She gave a Lilly impression of being in serious thought. "I wonder who I was sleeping with here." Then she laughed. "Whoever they were, they were good-looking and they loved me."

"Everyone loved you, Lilly," I said. And it was almost true.

Which Lilly picked up on right away. "Almost everyone," she said.

"Yeah. Aaron. Do you know how hard it was to track him down the first time?"

She smiled a dazzling smile. "Of course I do, silly! I was right there with you the whole way. Anyway, it should be easier this time. You already know the beginning and end of the story; all you have to do is write the middle."

"All I have to do, in addition to dodging vampires and demons, you mean." And anyway, sometimes writing the middle of the story was the hardest part.

She sighed. "Every life has to have some challenges, Veronica Mars."

"I'm fairly sure mine has more than most."

X X X X X

I woke up early from the dream. Sheila was exactly where I'd left her: Passed out on the couch.

I'd had no choice, though Dad wouldn't be too happy with me giving someone like Sheila unfettered access to house. I had no idea where she lived, and she'd been in no condition to tell me. I'd practically had to carry her into the house. And she weighed more than I did.

Of course, so did some greyhounds, so that wasn't exactly the best measure of things. Still, what would you have done?

I wouldn't even have left Logan or Xander there. Aaron Echolls, now, that was another story. Celeste Kane?

Well, let's just hope it never comes to that. I'm honestly not so sure I'd make the right decision.

Anyway, the Mars Sunnydale apartment was exactly like our Neptune digs, only completely different. It was a second-story walkup, not part of a converted hotel; it was laid out differently (hell, the kitchen was actually a separate room, albeit one you couldn't have fir more than two people into without Crisco and a shoehorn); and the furniture was different.

But it was still the same place. I can't explain it any more clearly than that.

As I got dressed, it occurred to me that I was wrong when I compiled that list of who'd made the transfer to Sunnydale with me; I'd missed one. Said missing individual was currently standing by the front door of the apartment, holding his leash in his mouth.

No, it wasn't Clarence Weidman.

"Just a second, Backup," I whispered. I'd give Sheila until he and I got back from his morning walk. If she wasn't up by then --

She was, if barely. Her eyes were open and she was shading her eyes against the reflection off of one of the pictures on the wall. "Where the fuck am I?" she asked in a loud voice, then winced, as I closed the apartment door.

"You're in the fabulous Casa de Mars," I said. "You're lucky. Normally we charge twenty bucks for the tour. So. How much do you remember about last night?" I was hoping like hell the answer would be, "not much."

Life, as ever, continued to disappoint. Sheila visibly started thinking. "I was coming out of the Bronze with those two guys who said they had a Caddy," she said.

"Then . . .?" I said, hoping that the answer would be something on the order of, "And that's when things got fuzzy."

No such luck. "And then," she said, "And then . . . that blond guy with the funny accent came out and said that he was going to kill me. His face got really weird -- and then someone shot him in the face with a water gun, and he yelled and ran away." Then she frowned. "What the hell was wrong with his face? And why would he run away just because his face got wet?"

I shrugged. "How should I know? Honestly, when I found you you were so out of it I wouldn't be surprised if you'd said you'd seen elephants flying by."

She sat up, slowly. "No," she said, shaking her head and regretting it immediately. "I've been wasted enough to know what it does to me. I don't see things." Another frown. "And that was you last night with the water gun."

"What?" I said, convincingly, I hoped. "No, I just saw you staggering down the alley --"

"Don't bullshit me, manhunter," she said. "That was you with the Supersoakers. What the hell were they full of? Some kind of pepper spray or something? The guy was yelling like a sunuvabitch when he was running off."

And Sheila had just provided me with an out. "Exactly," I said. "That way you don't have to get up close and personal with the muggers; you can take them out from a distance."

"Smart," she said. "I could use me one of those. Sometimes guys get a little too rowdy, you know what I'm saying'?"

"I'll see what I can do," I said.

She shrugged. "'scool if you can't. I'll just make up my own. Can't be that hard." She tried standing up.

The concept of this borderline psychopath attempting to make her own pepper spray was thoroughly unnerving -- and she didn't strike me as a secret chemistry whiz, either. "Stick with vinegar," I said. "Maybe put a little hot sauce into it." What the hell was I doing giving her ideas?

Answer: Because I was still trying to steer her away from the truth about the situation. Vampires might be real, but I so wasn't the one to be giving the explanation. And anyway, Sheila would be just as likely to think it was cool as recoil in fear, assuming she believed me at all. Unlike the Scooby Gang, I didn't have ready access to a friendly vampire for proof.

Holy crap. On top of everything else, I now had that to worry about. Because no way, no how was I going to suffer through a town with Spike, Drusilla, and Angelus.

"Not a bad idea," she said. "You sure you're the smartest kid in school 'cause you ain't acting like any geek I ever met before."

"Smartest?" Wow, was that my rep? No wonder Willow didn't think much of me. At this point, her intelligence and her hacking skills were pretty much all she had to fall back on.

I have a theory about Willow and why she ultimately went bad in season 6. I hope I'm not around long enough to test it out.

I went on, "Naah. I just study like a madwoman. Anyway, it's time to get going."

"School?" She asked it as though I'd just asked her to throw herself off a twenty-story building.

"You don't have to go to school, but you can't stay here," I said. "I'll give you a ride if you want."

She shrugged. "What the hell. Might be fun watching the troll drop dead when he sees me there that early. Anyway, I owe you."

"You owe me?"

"Whoever the hell that blond bastard with the funny accent was last night, he was gonna hurt me till you showed up. So yeah, I owe you."

"No, really," I said. "I would have done it for anyone --"

"But you did it for me," Sheila said with a hint of irritation in her voice. "Look, whether you want me to or not, I owe you my life and I'm gonna pay you back. Deal with it."

I succumbed to the inevitable. "Okay, then. This is me dealing with it."

I fed Backup, told him to be a good dog, and left.

Sheila gave him a quick pat, too. Backup accepted it, which was weird. He's usually a pretty good judge of character.

X X X X X

The school day was the school day. Snyder didn't actually have a heart attack when he saw me and Sheila walk in together, but his eyes did bug out amusingly.

Buffy and Sheila and I spent out allegedly free period fine-tuning the decorations for parent-teacher night, with occasional sniping from Xander, who was taking a hands-off approach just in case Snyder walked back into the room.

Finally I said, "Are you actually going to be doing anything, or just standing there thinking you're funny."

"Standing here thinking I'm funny," he said after a second. "It's a talent of mine."

"Well, good," I said. "You found one. First time for everything, I suppose."

"Ahh, you're just jealous 'cause you haven't run across one yet," Xander said.

That was so untrue it as funny. But, to my surprise, Sheila said, "Shut it, Harris. Manhunter's the smartest person in this school and she helps her dad with the whole detective thing." Buffy was determinedly applying tape to the back of a poster, ignoring the whole exchange. She wouldn't be ignoring it for long, was my bet.

"When did you become her biggest defender?" Xander demanded

"Since she saved my ass last night from some blond guy wanted to kill me," Sheila said.

Oh, crap. I should have made that bet. Buffy whirled in place, then quickly and futilely tried to cover her burning interest. "Blond guy?" she asked.

"Saved?" Xander said.

I couldn't very well shut Sheila up now, not without my taser -- and here, eight years ago, I didn't have one. Too bad. "Yeah. Guy came after me and two guys and manhunter here shot him with a Supersoaker full of some kind of pepper spray --"

"My very own recipe," I said.

"And he ran off," Sheila finished.

"Did this blond guy talk with a British accent?"

"I really couldn't tell," I said. "I was too busy noticing him trying to kill Sheila."

"I dunno," Sheila said. "But it wasn't American."

"Um, I have to go," Buffy said. "Xander? Willow?"

"Sure," Xander said. "It'll be more fun than watching Veronica Mars. But then, really, what isn't?"

Buffy looked at Veronica and Sheila and said, "Cover for me?"

Sheila shrugged. "Sure. You do for me, I do for you. 'scool."

I said I would as well, and they left.

Hmmm. I hoped my name wouldn't feature too prominently in any of this.

In the meantime, there was juice to be made.