Disclaimer/Author's Note: 'twas the week before Halloween, and all through the fic . . . Neither Buffy not Veronica Mars belong to me.
X X X X X
That would put a crimp in the idea of Xander's "being a demon magnet" when it came to women, but honestly, the record didn't bear that out. "Miss French" counted, sure, but Cordelia didn't, and leave us not forget that little fling he and Willow had. And honestly, Faith wasn't on the side of the bad guys when she and Xander hooked up.
Hell, think about it. Xander dates Cordelia, and eventually Cordelia gives birth to a goddess who wants to make the world a paradise, and if that means she has to kill a few people along the way, so what? Xander has a brief, physical fling with Willow, and Willow tries to destroy the world. Xander sleeps with Faith, and within weeks Faith turns to the dark side.
Xander dumps Anya, and Anya becomes a vengeance demon again.
If anything, and I don't actually believe this, this would make Xander Harris the cause of villainy in others, not the victim of bad luck.
Add to that the idea that he caused the end of the only two long-term relationships he had with women, and I think the balance sheet shows that when it comes to romantic relationships, Xander Harris is far more sinner than sinned against, even factoring in the praying mantis woman and the 7th-season chick who wanted to open the Hellmouth using Xander as the key.
None of which has anything to do with whether he might have been dating Lilly. I knew they hadn't had sex; the Adversary assured me that the only changes to canon would be those I caused. But that didn't rule out a secret history or two.
Still, there were only two people to ask, and one of them was dead.
Not that much of a handicap around these parts, but due to my inability to do magic I was kind of constrained in my ability to talk to the wholly dead. (And the unholy dead would be busy trying to kill me, except for Angel.)
Dammit. Now I had to get into the Kane house so I could rummage through Lilly's room --
Holy crap.
And now I had a reason to go into the vent, one completely unconnected with Lilly's murder.
Logan and I might have settled into an uneasy truce, but there was no way he would help me with this. And Sheila would be perfectly willing to scheme, but she wouldn't be able to talk her way into the Kane house except at gunpoint. (She might be willing to do that too, but I didn't want to find out.)
Hmmm.
I'd have to give it some thought.
X X X X X
I took Sunday off from plots and counterplots. Dad and I went out for the morning, had breakfast, and I spent the rest of the day on homework, relaxing, and talking with Sheila.
Even here, it seems, I had friends.
Along the way one of the more enduring, but minor, Buffyverse mysteries got cleared up: Dad and I passed a miniature golf course under construction.
X X X X X
Just another manic Monday in Sunnydale. I passed Ms. Calendar in the hall; she didn't look at me twice. My simple disguise had apparently worked.
It probably helped me that none of her usually prediction methods -- tarot, runes, etc -- were going to do her much good in tracking me down. I hadn't known that going in, and I wouldn't have changed my methods any if I had, but it would still be useful.
I was still going to operate on the assumption that I could be traced. Better safe than cursed.
As for my Xander theory, that would wait until after Halloween. I wasn't going to overload myself, and this week was already full. My plans were to stay well below radar. My private detective office was closed for the week leading up to Halloween and the amount of lip I was going to give Snyder was nonexistent. I didn't want him to know I was still enrolled in the school. One thing I definitely didn't want was to be stuck escorting kids on Halloween.
I had other plans for that evening.
Me and this attitude? Not exactly arm in arm. I have many talents, but fading into the woodwork isn't really one of them. (There's a difference between that and surveillance, which I was pretty good at, though not as good as Dad, and likely never would be.)
In the meantime, I made a trip to the library -- interrupting a conversation between Buffy and Giles. The last line I heard Giles was say was, "Actually, they tend to steer clear of Halloween. They find it kind of tacky."
"Who steers clear of Halloween?" I asked. So sue me. I wanted to see what he could come up with. I knew he was talking about vampires and other assorted nasties.
"Oh!" he said, startled. "Miss Mars. Um, well, adults."
"Adults?" I said.
"Yes. Dreadful holiday. Dressing up in costumes. I can't imagine a bigger waste of time."
"Interesting take," I said. "Anyway, I'm looking for a book."
"That is why the library's here," he said. "Anything particular in mind?"
"Poetry."
"Upper level," he said. "Up the stairway. Two shelves to your left."
"Thanks." I walked over casually and browsed on the lower level behind the big table for a minute.
Buffy said, "He said upper level, Veronica."
"It's study hall," I said. "I'm in no hurry."
After a few minutes, they went into Giles' office. Good.
I bent down, took a book out of my bag -- the most uninteresting book I could find, dummied up to look like a Sunnydale high book -- and stuck it on the shelf in the right spot.
Then I left and headed for the nearest girl's bathroom, where I took a set of headphones out of my bag.
Yes, technology had upgraded in the nine years or so between the 2006 I got sent back from and the 1997 I was in now, but bugs had been tiny for a lot longer than most people cared to realize. Fitting one into a book hardly needed a Q.
I put on the headphones and listened.
". . . rather quickly," Rupert Giles' voice came. "I wonder what that was about."
Buffy said, "Maybe she had a case to work on."
"A . . . case?"
Buffy sounded amused. "What, you thought I was the only one around here with a secret life? Veronica's following in her father's footsteps -- kids pay her to find things out, and she does it. She's pretty good, from what I've heard. And, honestly, she's put up with more crap than anyone else here, including me. She wants to run out of the library like a vampire was chasing her, I figure she's earned a little wacky behavior time." A pause, then, "I'd still like to know how she happened to be carrying something that burned Spike's face, though. I don't think I've ever seen someone so pissed."
"Yes. No luck with your efforts?"
"About the same luck she'd have taking me on in a fistfight," Buffy said. "Anyway, it's not really a big deal; if it was some kind of mace, more power to her, and if it was holy water, then good for her for knowing about vampires and how to deal with them. Anyway. Any other critters try to cause trouble on Halloween?"
"Well, there are always the more mindless creatures that are unaware of the day . . ." and at this point I took the headphones off. Honestly, I hadn't been expecting to hear anything about me; I just wanted to be sure my bug worked.
If Jenny Calendar talked to Giles, it would likely be here. No, I wouldn't be able to hear everything, but with luck and a little blanket coverage, I'd be able to hear enough.
I had the excuse of working on the Sunnydale school paper as well -- Duncan, as with the Neptune High Navigator, was the editor, and I'd volunteered this week to take care of the scutwork -- proofreading, checking ad copy, and so on.
True, in Neptune I'd had to be dragged into doing photo work for the paper; here, I volunteered. I needed something to do in all that time I wasn't spending studying, and truth be told I actually hadn't minded working for the paper. Besides, it gave me an excuse to ask people annoying questions. Thank you, Lois Lane. I'd thank Chloe Sullivan, but being confused with Allison Mack and being asked whether Michael Rosenbaum's really that good-looking in person a few dozen times kind of gets tiresome.
It had the added bonus of being something Snyder actually, if grudgingly, approved of, provided we weren't rocking the boat, so if he saw me in the journalism room he wasn't likely to drag me off and force me to sign something.
X X X X X
I was there four nights that week. On Wednesday I saw Snyder roaming the halls looking to volunteer people and dove into the nearest bathroom. That it turned out to be a men's room in no way encouraged me to leave, and once I explained what our beloved principal was doing, no one threw me out into the hallway.
Duncan had also volunteered. In the meantime, the Kanes were hosting a big charity costume dance away from home.
This was a good thing. You'll see why in a minute.
I never bought a costume.
Thursday night, I finally overheard the conversation I wanted to hear -- at least, part of it.
". . .what do you mean?" Giles sounded angry.
"I mean, England, that I haven't been completely truthful with you."
"I'm getting that," he snapped.
"Look. I'm telling you, aren't I?" The woman had chutzpah, passing off my blackmail attempt as a crisis of conscience. But, to be fair, it wasn't as though her conscience hadn't been riding her in the mainstream storyline.
"Yes. Yes, you are. But to think that our relationship came from this lie --"
"Our relationship was as much a surprise to me as it was to you. And just as pleasant. What I feel about you is real. What I'm doing in Sunnydale, that's the lie."
After a second, Giles said, "That is something we can deal with later. So. You're here to make sure Angel stays miserable."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it's my family duty."
She pretty much told him everything.
Of course, she didn't mention the escape clause on Angel's curse, because she didn't know about it. But, with Giles asking Ms. Calendar to get more details, I was fairly sure they'd find out at some point.
I wasn't done yet as Epimetheus. But at least I'd managed to change something concrete.
We'd see where it went.
In the meantime, there was tomorrow night to plan for.
Tomorrow being Halloween and all that.
I was going as a burglar.
Anyone care to guess what my target is?