And now: What's My Line.

Disclaimer: "Sheila Kelly" is mine, more or less. Everything else belongs to Joss or Rob. There is some dialogue in here from What's My Line, Part 1.

X X X X

I was now facing quite probably the most important decision of my life.

In comparison, my current mission, every decision I'd made in Neptune, it all paled into o insignificance:

Did I like shrubs?

Sheila and I were at the same table Xander, Buffy and Willow were sitting around. We'd originally started somewhere else, but Buffy had called us over.

Logan, meanwhile, had zoomed right past it. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I'd reminded him.

He'd smirked and said, "Daddy dearest got me an exemption. Apparently he doesn't want it leaking out that the son of the illustrious Aaron Echolls has a career aptitude for sewer maintenance work."

I'd raised my eyebrows. "Do you have such an aptitude?"

"With the amount of shit I've had to deal with from him?" he'd said.

I'd laughed. "Maybe you'd get zookeeper," I said.

"Only if I'm lucky, Mars. I'd dearly love any job that doesn't have me following anywhere remotely close to his footsteps. Not that I'd enjoy cleaning up elephant dung, but some days it would be infinitely preferable to what I'm doing now."

"So what will you be doing while the rest of us are sloughing our way through the career fair?"

"Whatever I want to," he'd said. "Within reason."

"Whose definition of reason?"

"Aye, there's the rub." He'd given me a mock salute. "And on that note --"

And so, here we were. Xander was finishing his rant. "It's ridiculous!"

"'scool, Harris," Sheila said. "I agree with you." Sheila put down the sheet.

"Aren't you going to finish that?" I asked

Sheila said, "Naah. Got better things to do, manhunter. I just picked randomly all the way down the page."

While Xander grinned, Willow said with mild indignation, "Aren't you curious to see what kind of career you could have?"

Sheila cracked her knuckles. "I figure I'll make that decision myself. Don't need some stupid test to tell me." I saw her point -- assuming I survived to have a career in this universe, I was aiming to follow in my father's footsteps in some fashion or other. Still, I was wondering what the test would say.

Xander was nodding, "Exactly. That would suck all the spontaneity out of being young and

stupid. I'd rather live in the dark."

Willow said, "You're not gonna be young forever."

"Yes, but I'll always be stupid," Xander said. After a second, when no one contradicted him, he said, "Okay, let's not all rush to disagree."

I looked at Buffy, she looked at me, and we said, in unison, "You're not stupid."

Cordelia, who was walking up trailed by a pair of interchangeable Cordettes, said, "I highly doubt that." Then she looked over the table. "Oh, look. They stuck all the losers at the same table this year."

"Then why aren't you sitting with them?" I asked innocently.

"Are you actually talking to me?" Cordelia asked

"If you don't know," Xander said. "Then you need more help than any old dumb job test is going to be able to give you."

She stormed off in a huff. To me, Xander said, "Good one, Veronica."

I said, "Right back at you, Xander." We still weren't friends, but Xander had looked at the evidence for me being the evil bitch who broke he and Lilly up, and had found it wanting. So what if we weren't friends? At least we weren't enemies.

Sheila said, "'snothing wrong with Cordelia Chase that a long fall from a tall building wouldn't cure."

"Hear, hear," Xander said.

And then the question came. Buffy asked, "Do I like shrubs?"

Xander said, "That's between you and your god."

"I've been wrestling with the same question," I said.

"Wrestling?" Sheila asked. "They're shrubs, manhunter. Nothing worth wrestling about."

"Well, I came down on the side of shrubs," Willow said.

I shrugged and said, "Naah. I think I'm going anti-shrub. Give me a good old fashioned parking lot anyday." Wilderness girl I am most definitely not. Move me to a farm and I'd be going berserk within a week.

Note: Of course, having said this, my ideal job will now be plant biologist.

"I think I'm going with the shrubs on this one," Buffy said. "Dammit. I wouldn't even be doing this if it wasn't Snyder's hoop of the week."

"Then why don't you do it my way?" Sheila said.

"Because Buffy respects the integrity of the test," Willow said. "She, she knows how important this is."

"Hate to disagree with you there, Will," Buffy said. "It's more that I didn't think of it first."

X X X X X

When we were done, Cordelia came and tapped me on the shoulder. "Back for round two?" I asked.

Cordelia sighed. "Nope. Giles has me playing messenger again. He'd like to meet you during lunch. So once you get done scarfing down your dog food on Saltines, head over there."

"I assume he didn't tell you why?"

She shrugged. "I didn't care enough to find out. Now go, before people think I actually like talking to you."

Same old Cordelia. "Your secret is safe with me." A pause, then, "Until I need some really good blackmail."

She glared at me and walked away.

I've survived two Cordelia stares of death in one day. I'm not saying that's a record, but I'm pretty proud of myself right now.

Anyway, that meant I had to ditch both Sheila and Logan, both of whom wanted to sit with me. I finally convinced them it was part of a case, and left them staring at each other as I headed to the library.

To my surprise, it wasn't just me and Giles. Willow was saying, ". . . about what kind of career you could have had if you weren't already the Slayer?"

"Do the words 'sealed in fate' ring any bells for you, Will -- what's she doing here?" She'd just noticed me.

"Good to see you too, Buffy," I said, though I knew she hadn't meant it that way.

In a mild panic, Buffy turned back to Giles. "Is this an apocalypse? Tell me this isn't an apocalypse."

Giles said, "It isn't an apocalypse. As it turns out, Miss Mars has been working on a case for me that now concerns you." He briefly described Epimetheus to them.

"Hold on just a gosh darn minute," Xander said. "Someone's been manipulating us?"

"You, only indirectly. Me and Ms. Calendar, far more so. But now it does affect you. Miss Mars, if you could disconnect the recorder?"

I went into his office, took the tape recorder, and, when I came back out, played it.

We all heard "Epimetheus'" message to Rupert Giles. Thankfully, the voice sounded nothing like mine. (I know what my recorded voice sounds like. It's amazing how different your voice sounds from how you think it sounds. This voice sounded neither like what I thought I sounded like, nor what I actually did. And now, back to the non-boring portion of our program . . .)

"I don't recognize the voice," Buffy said. No one else did either. Thank goodness.

"Who's Sam Zabuto?" I asked.

"A colleague of mine," Giles said. "Kenyan by birth, currently residing in Jamaica. Brilliant and dedicated man."

"Did you call him?" Willow asked.

"Yes," Xander said. "Let's all dance when the puppet master pulls our strings."

"Since everything Epimetheus has done so far has redounded, to some extent, to our benefit, I saw no reason not to make that call," I said. "And I found out what Mr. Zabuto has been doing for the past six months." A pause, and then. "He has been training a Slayer."

"So she's my successor," Buffy said. "Nice to know when I die someone else is ready to be thrown into the line of fire."

Xander caught on first. "Buffy," he said. "You already died."

Trying to sound as surprised as I should have, I said, "You what?"

"Last May," Buffy said distractedly. "Xander revived with CPR. Giles, I was only dead for a minute!"

"A minute was apparently long enough."

Willow said, "Long enough for what? I'm still confused?"

"Will," Buffy said. "What happens when one Slayer dies?"

"Another gets call -- ohhhhh."

"Oh, indeed," Giles said. "Not only is there another active Slayer, but she's coming to Sunnydale. Needless to say, Sam was most surprised to discover that Buffy was still alive."

Xander said, "How often do you Watchers talk with each other, anyway? I mean, you'd have thought someone at the Hall of Justice would've noticed that two people were sending in reports."

"Yes," he said irritably. "You would have. Still, while that is something both Sam and I wish to figure out, it is hardly the most pressing issue. One, of course, is that once again this Epimetheus has managed to, by pointing out something that happened in the past, clue us in to something to happen in the immediate future. Miss Mars, that is why you're here. I think, with this bit of information, we have left the realm where any normal human agency could be responsible for this."

It was good to hear his suspicions running in that direction. "Unless you're being literal when you use the word agency," I said, "I'm inclined to agree with you. You ever do anything to tick off the CIA or MI6?"

"Not to my knowledge," he said.

"Then probably now. I'll concentrate on the entities and sorcerers."

"And now, Buffy said. "Let's move on to the important part: She's coming to Sunnydale?"

"She's already on her way here," Giles said. "Apparently, according to Sam, a dark power is scheduled to rise in Sunnydale, and has to be stopped."

"A dark power?" Xander said. "That's what I love about you Watchers: You're so specific."

"Well, so we'll meet this Slayer at the airport, tell her she's not needed, and handle it ourselves," Buffy said. "Problem solved."

Giles shook his head. "No. We're not going to force this young woman – her name is Kendra, by the way – to make a trip across a length greater than that of the continental United States to turn right around and go home." A pause, then, "Especially because she is not likely to be arriving as a passenger."

"So that means she's either a pilot or she's coming in with the luggage," I said.

"The latter is correct, Miss Mars," Giles said.

"Why?" Willow asked.

"Because she was trained far more traditionally than Buffy was," Giles said. "She was trained to believe that a Slayer works alone and flies, er, 'under the radar' as much as possible."

"Let's see," Xander said. "In the main part of the plane with a lot of other people, or by herself in the luggage compartment. Gee. I wonder which one people'll notice more when she gets off."

Giles allowed himself a small smile. "Quite. Still, while Sam is an outstanding Watcher, his methods are as conservative as they come. There are no direct flights from Kingston to Los Angeles, so his best guess is that she should be arriving sometime tomorrow. Miss Mars?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have anything to say?"

"Hold up one of those signs at the airport so she'll know who you are," I said.

"I mean, about Epimetheus."

"The voice sounded human enough," I said. "And when Ms. Calendar met her she looked human. Doesn't rule out your basic shapeshifter, but I'm thinking it's someone who's either human or who can very easily pass."

"I thought you ruled out humans," Buffy said, frowning.

"I ruled out normal humans. There are a lot of not normal humans lying around." To Giles, I said, "I'm sorry I'm not being more productive. It's just that I don't have a lot to work with."

"To the contrary, Miss Mars," Giles said. "With your assistance we have now narrowed the field considerably. Thank you."

"I believe that was a dismissal," I said, standing up.

"Yes," he said. "Although it wasn't intended to be quite so brusque."

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm not offended. Good luck figuring out what to do about this new Slayer. And as always, if the world's about to come to an end --"

"I will contact you," Giles said.

I left.

X X X X X

If I remembered correctly, that night, while patrolling, Buffy had run across Dalton ransacking a tomb, and Spike and Dru had done something.

I wish I was capable of being the Machiavelli everyone seems to think I am. I'm capable of a good devious plan or two, don't get me wrong, and just like Hannibal Smith, I love it when my plans come together, but sometimes I think my success is half my ability to project and predict, and half my ability to put things together on the fly.

Case in point: By now, Spike's contacted the Order of Taraka. If I'd been smart, I would have mentioned that to Giles already. I still have time, but not much. They're going to start to show up today.

I got to school a few minutes ahead of normal and taped "The Order of Taraka is coming" to the library's front door. Okay, so I'm not going to get points for imagination or my ability to come up with cryptic messages at the drop of a hat. But I'm trying to avert a disaster here, not impress them with my literary skills.

Then I ripped off the tape and walked into the library. Giles was shelving some returned books. I thought that this might be the first time I've ever seen him do actual library work. "Miss Mars?"

I showed him the note. "Does this mean anything to you?"

His face paled. "Yes. Yes it does. And if Epimetheus -- we do agree that this is Epimetheus, right?"

"Is anyone else sending you anonymous messages?" I asked.

"Right. Well, let's just say that if this is true, things may indeed be approaching apocalyptic proportions. Keep in touch, would you?"

"I'm going to need the note --"

"I'll give it to you later," he said.

Whew. I may have pulled that one off.

In the meantime, time to find out what kind of career I'm headed for. Sheila and I walked over to the list just as Xander was throwing his hands up in the air and saying, "You've got to be freaking kidding me!"

"What?" I said.

"They've got me listed as prison guard."

"Could be worse," I said. "They could have you listed as prison inmate."

He snorted and walked across the quad towards Buffy and Willow. In the meantime, Sheila had looked at the list. "So?" I asked.

"Interior designer or actress," she said, grinning. "'scool. If Snyder saw this he's probably having fits trying to figure it out. And if it gives Snyder fits, you know it has to be good."

Okay, now it was my turn.

I checked over it once, twice.

I wasn't on it. Just like Willow, and -- yes -- just like Oz.

What the hell?