Disclaimer: Veronica Mars was created by Rob Thomas, Buffy by Joss Whedon, and this combination, and the fleshing out of Sheila Kelly, by me.

X X X X X

The dinner was gourmet, delicious, and might as well have come from Kentucky Fried Chicken for all the attention we paid to it.

As we walked into the dining room, Sheila hung back to talk to me. "You didn't have to do this, manhunter," she said.

"Actually, I kind of did," I said, "I know these people and I wasn't going to let you face them alone." She smiled.

We went and took our seats. The appetizer and salad courses were taken up in small talk, primarily the recent unpleasantness at the frat house.

Between bites of his salad, Aaron said, "I wish I could say I'm shocked, but honestly, I'm not."

"You're not?" I asked, all the while thinking, of course not. Why would murder in the pursuit of self-promotion shock Aaron Echolls?

"No. I've seen people do all kinds of crazy things to get ahead in Hollywood. Ritual sacrifice isn't that far beyond."

Logan said, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is reason number 417 why I will never pursue acting as a career. I don't think I care to get to the point where decades of mass murder become so mundane that I can dismiss them with a wave of the hand and an, "Oh, I've seen that before."

"Now, son," Aaron said. "You know I don't mean it like that. I'm as appalled as you are. But the world we live in, people will do anything to get ahead."

"Almost anything," Sheila said. "Look at man -- look at Veronica's Dad."

Lynn smiled. "That's right."

To the obvious discomfort of Logan, Aaron said, "Absolutely. Your father did what he thought was right, no matter what it cost him. I always admired him for that."

"Too bad Mayor Wilkins didn't agree with you," I said. I forbore from asking why, if he'd thought so highly of my father, he hadn't stood up for him. There was no point. This was pure showboating on his part.

"Sheila?"

"Yes, Mrs. Echolls?"

"Please," she said. "Call me Lynn. Anyway, what was that you almost called Veronica?"

Sheila said, "Manhunter."

"No doubt this has to do with her following in her father's footsteps," Aaron said. "I understand you've become quite the detective."

"I pale in comparison to my father, but I've made some efforts," I said. "But that's only part of where the name comes from. It's a reference to a superhero. J'onn J'onzz, the manhunter from Mars, aka The Martian Manhunter."

Lynn frowned slightly. "But aren't you a manhunter who is a Mars, not one who's from Mars?"

"She didn't give herself the nickname, mother," Logan said.

""True," I said. "I tried, but for some reason no one would call me Veronica the Brilliant."

"It fails to roll trippingly off the tongue," Logan said.

But it wasn't until the main course arrived -- goose. Goose? -- that the other shoe came clattering to the floor.

"Look," Aaron said about halfway through, "I guess the two of you are wondering why I asked you here."

"Thought had crossed my mind," Sheila said.

Lynn said, "You mean, it wasn't to thank them?"

Aaron said, "No. Look. I meant what I said about wanting to spend more time with my family. But I've heard from a couple of production companies that think making a movie about the siege of Sunnydale High would be a good idea, especially with me playing myself, and --"

Sheila might not have been a mathematics genius, but she was perfectly capable of putting two and two together. "And you want to make sure that we ain't about to contradict your story in public and maybe cost you some money."

Taken aback for a second, Aaron quickly recovered, saying, "I wouldn't put it like that. I just want to be sure our stories are straight."

I said, "Don't worry. No one's going to hear from me how you needed to be rescued by two girls a foot shorter than you are from one measly gang member."

Not sure exactly how I meant that, Aaron said eventually, "Good. Now. I'm not asking you to do this for free --"

Time once again for a patented Veronica Mars interruption. "Sure you are. Because my father wouldn't let me take money from you without knowing where it came from --"

"And Mama's gonna take any money I bring home and go out and blow it on herself," Sheila concluded.

Aaron nodded. "I can see a way out for you, Veronica. If you'll accept it."

"What?"

"I paid you to do something. You are a junior detective, so let's say I paid you, I don't know -- "

"Ten grand," Logan said, and was the recipient of twin dirty looks flashed by me and Aaron.

"Ten grand," Aaron said with bad grace. "To, I don't know, investigate something for me at the school. Like maybe how those people got in the first place. To expose the poor security."

Moral dilemma. It wasn't dirty money, even though Aaron was a loathsome, vile sociopathic piece of shit who'd murdered my best friend with his bare hands. (Unless you think he stole it because his acting is so bad. But that really isn't relevant. Not unless I'm also planning to arrest Adam Sandler.) And we could use it.

But I didn't want to accept anything from this bastard. I hadn't even wanted to come to dinner. And I sure as hell didn't want to be obligated to him.

But I had a reason besides greed to take the money. And it involved more than acting as though I'd had no idea he'd killed Lilly. In the original timeline, if Aaron Echolls had offered me ten grand to cover up something that was, to me, trivial, and that had no connection to Lilly's death or any other major crime, would I have done it.

Hard to put myself in that position. Damn hard. This is my life, not a philosophical thought experiment.

Well, it's not my philosophical thought experiment. The Adversary might have a different take on things.

But I didn't have to run it as though it were an experiment. Not anymore. Because Aaron's line of reasoning gave me a wonderful excuse for doing something else.

Time to set the terms, though. "And in exchange for this money," I said, "I owe you no future obligations of any sort. Correct?"

Not hesitating for a second, Aaron said, "Yes."

"Then I accept. Provided I have the money in my hands, in cash, before I leave here tonight." I didn't trust him not to change his mind.

"Okay . . ." he turned to Sheila. "As for you. I could put the same amount in a trust fund in your name -- that way no one could touch it but you, when you turn eighteen. And if anyone asks why --"

Sheila was quick. "I was helping you with the story -- I saw things you didn't."

"Sounds good. Deal?"

"Deal."

And once again I shook hands with the devil.

Lynn looked confused. Unfortunately, at this stage of things, she very often looked confused. I always wished I'd had the chance to see her when she wasn't under Aaron's thumb.

I'd have to make sure she didn't commit suicide this time.

Still, after that, the rest of the mean and the dessert were an anticlimax, and Sheila and I made our excuses and got out of there as quickly as we could. I had ten thousand

Logan came charging after us. "What the hell?" he asked. "I never would have pegged you for the type to sell out, Mars."

Sheila began to react angrily. "Stuff it, Echolls --"

"Call off your attack dog, Mars," Logan said. Sheila barked and growled, obligingly.

"Hold on, Sheila. So. Why do you think I sold out?"

"You took my father's money," he said.

"For agreeing not to do something I wasn't going to do anyway," I said. "Look. I figured out what this was about a long time back. I hadn't pegged him as getting a movie deal out of it, but I honestly don't care what he does. And now Sheila and I each have ten grand more -- thanks for that, by the way --"

"You're welcome," he said after a second.

"And your father gets to do what he does best: Pretend to be a hero. Win-win."

Logan smirked slightly. "I get it now. Daddy Dearest thinks he got off cheaply --"

"And only the three of us know he could have gotten off even more cheaply," I said. "And I won't tell if you don't."

Logan nodded, told Sheila, "Good girl. Sit. Stay," and went back inside the house.

"Sorry you couldn't get your money now," I said.

"'scool, manhunter," she said. "I wasn't lying. Mama would drink it all up. Maybe when I'm eighteen I'll actually be able to use it for something 'sides drinking myself to death."

X X X X X

Dad got the full story, of course. He took all but five hundred and stuck it in my college account. Which, to be honest, is what I'd planned to do with it anyway.

So far his tracking the rich man's son had revealed nothing more than that the son was dating someone from "the wrong side of the tracks--" which, to give the father credit, he didn't seem to give a crap about.

Still, he wasn't convinced. Dad gave him a couple of more days. He's not going to take advantage of the man's paranoia, but after only a couple of days there was still a chance the son might be fooling him.

In the meantime, there was Jana Calderash. It occurred to me that she didn't know of the limitation on the curse; but she did know it existed, and she was there to spy on Angel.

And this came down to the main reason I'd taken Aaron Echolls' money:

It gave me an excuse for investigating why Jenny Calendar might not have been honest about her past. And Aaron himself would back me up, if anyone asked him.

Still, I had to do about a week's worth of research before I got independent confirmation that Jenny Calendar had been born Jana Calderash. A simple name change could easily be explained away -- but I didn't need to explain all of my thought processes, just enough to make it convincing.

So, in between classes, while Ms. Calendar was talking to Mr. Giles in the hallway, I slipped into her classroom and left a note:

To: Jenny Calendar.

Ms. Calendar -- or should I call you Ms. Calderash?

I was doing some research, and imagine my surprise when I found out that you had not been born with the name you currently use.

You seem like a nice enough person, and I don't want to get you in trouble for something that could be completely innocent. But I would like to hear an explanation.

Let's meet to discuss it. Shall we say, Saturday noon in the public library?

Sincerely,

Epimetheus

I figured the befuddled route would work better than the blackmail route.

I'd save that for round two, should it become necessary.

And it probably would.

Between now and Saturday, I needed to stop off at the magic store. Jenny Calendar might not have been a practicing witch, but she was perfectly capable of pulling off a ritual or two, and I'd just as soon it not be on me.

In the meantime, Halloween was in a week and a day.

And I still didn't know what the hell I was going to do.

Welcome, once again, to my crazy life.