Author's Note: If you ever want proof that there is no God, It's this: American Dad is still on the air. Veronica Mars is not.
Just a little cynicism as the new fall TV season approaches.
X X X X X
I'd wondered, since the Adversary had first handed me this labor of Sisyphus, what would happen if one of the changes I made caused canon to go thoroughly off the rails.
So far, with the exception of Sheila, everything had been minor. Jenny Calendar had come clean sooner; Eyghon wasn't destroyed, simply disabled; and I was now officially privy to the secrets of the Slayer.
This, however. This had the potential to thoroughly fuck things up. I wondered if this was the "big moment" I was supposed to come to.
What if "the dark power" never arose? I'd probably prevented Angel's easy kidnapping, which meant that Spike would have to try to capture him by main force. I didn't know if he knew where she lived. I did know that he didn't know that Angel was necessary, yet, which meant that Buffy and Angel should be safe at the ice rink.
Safe being a relative term, of course, where a homicidal one-eyed assassin was waiting to kill you.
We hashed out a strategy to best make sure Buffy was never unprotected at the skating rink: Angel would get there as early as he could and stake the place out, keeping an eye out for anyone who didn't seem to belong there.
Given that the rink was supposed to be closed, the list of people supposed to be there was one, two if you counted Angel himself.
I wasn't especially concerned with their skating date, especially as right now it was about as undatelike as a date could possibly be. I volunteered to help with the surveillance – it is something I'm pretty good at – but was forcibly reminded that being an expert in spying on people in no way qualified me to face down any berserk assassins.
Their loss.
Kendra complained about the whole thing, of course. It seemed like Kendra's sole reason for existence was to complain that "This is not the way things are supposed to be done."
And then there was her accent. As a watcher of the show. I could excuse it. Sitting five feet away from her, I had to explain why she sounded half- Scottish, half Jamaican, without any reference to Bianca Lawson not having the voice talents of Meryl Streep.
So, that night, while Buffy and Angel were trying to lure one-eye into the trap and Dad thought I was at the school participating in a study group – not a technical lie – I asked Giles. "Does her accent seem off to you?"
"How do you mean?"
"It seems half Scottish, half Caribbean."
Giles said. "That's because Sam Zabuto speaks English with a Scottish accent."
I hadn't been expecting that. "He does?"
"As it turns out, the person who taught him English was a Scot. That he passed a small portion of his accent on to Kendra doesn't stretch the bounds of probability."
Then, time for a more serious question. "You told me earlier the Order of Taraka was dangerous."
"Exceedingly so," he said. "Once hired, they don't stop. If one is killed, another one will be sent. It takes a great deal for them to back off. Typically, it requires the being who hired them not to have lived up to their end of the contract, or for their contract to be fulfilled some other way – say, they have only a week to kill person A, and they fail. In that case, they go home and give the money back."
"I'm surprised you went along with my suggestion, then," I said.
"It wasn't an easy decision," he said. "But having more warning, and knowing who'd done it – thank goodness for the Council's contacts -- gave me time to think. If the order of Taraka is being used as a distraction, then whatever we are intended to be distracted from must be dangerous indeed."
"Kind of like blowing up a building to distract people from the multimillion dollar robbery going on down the street?"
"Indeed. And were I to tell Buffy to hide, then it would have been leaving the field clear for 'the dark power' to arise. Whoever that may be. I only hope it has no connections to Epimetheus. Kendra's arrival changes things to some extent. I hope this way I can both keep Buffy as safe as possible and still prevent this dark power for arising. Speaking of which: Any luck in your research?"
"None yet," I said. I didn't remember what book Giles had found his information in; that might indeed have to wait until morning, which is when I think Giles found it the first time. "Didn't any of these old-time writers believe in indexes?"
He chuckled. "That would have made things more convenient, I suppose."
It was getting close to the time when I was going to have to beg off for the night – no all-night study sessions for me; unlike Willow, Xander and even Cordelia, I had a parent who actually cared about my whereabouts and well-being -- when Angel and Buffy came in, lugging a heavily bound assassin.
Giles said, "Really, you could have simply dumped the corpse."
"And by corpse," Xander said, "We mean Angel. Really. Feel free to dump him anytime."
Angel glared at him -- right, Xander didn't know about the happiness clause on Angel's curse yet, but it couldn't be making Angel feel any better to be reminded of it -- but all he said was, "We don't dump living bodies."
Blinking, Giles said, "You captured an assassin from the Order of Taraka?"
"It was the advance warning that gave us the chance," Buffy said. "I'm starting to think that maybe that Epimetheus woman's on our side in all this. I was on the ice, skating, while Angel was hiding in the darkness."
"I'm good at that," Angel said.
"We've noticed," Xander said. "Oh, believe you me, we've noticed." Kendra, for what it's worth was also staring at Angel in a decidedly hostile fashion. Angel either didn't notice or didn't care. Me, I wouldn't be so sanguine if someone was staring at me like they wanted me dead. Sure, Angel was used to Xander glaring at him the same way, but unlike Xander, Kendra could actually pull it off. And Xander wouldn't try. He liked Buffy too much. Kendra, though --
"Don't knock it," Buffy said. "Cyclops-boy here was so focused on me that he never even thought that Angel might be creeping up on him. A headlock and several gut punches later and he was unconscious and we were scrambling around looking for something to tie him up with."
"Are you certain he's secure?" Giles asked.
"I have a century of experience in binding people," Angel said. "Mostly unwilling."
"Never tell us," Xander said.
"I echo the sentiment," Giles said. And what were you planning to --" One-eye stirred. Giles leapt to his feet and said, "Willow, Xander, Miss Mars: Stand back." We all got of from our seats and took several steps back. "Do?" Giles finished.
Glaring at the assassin, Angel said. "I have a lot of experience with interrogation. And a demon inside that hasn't gotten to cause anyone real pain in a long time."
"Um, don't you not do that anymore?" Willow asked.
"To 99.99 of humanity, no. This person wanted to kill Buffy. That gets him off the 'innocent' list."
"I don't like having to say this," Kendra said. "But the vampire is right. It cannot be a coincidence that the assassins are supposed to target a Slayer right as a dark power is about to arise. If we can get information from the assassin, we must do so."
. By now One-eye was clearly furious, though he still hadn't said anything. If he was bothering to strain at his bonds, you couldn't prove it by me.
Oddly, one of the things I was thinking is that I wished Dad was here. He wasn't Brenda Leigh Johnson, but he was a pretty damn good interrogator. And he wouldn't have to threaten to torture the man, like Angel and Kendra were doing.
Were they serious? I wasn't sure. I didn't think Angel would start pulling out the man's toenails. But they might get a little bit physical to prove that they could get a lot more physical if forced to.
At least, that's where I hoped they were going.
And, speaking of Dad -- "This may be an awkward time," I said, "But I really can't stay too much longer. My father's expecting me home. And I don't think he'll be taking 'coming apocalypse' as an excuse. He might give me points for creativity, but otherwise? Not so much with the impeding doom scenarios. Unless the doom is mine for coming home late."
"A good suggestion, Miss Mars," Giles said. "Xander. Willow. It would probably be a good idea for you to leave as well."
"Do you think we can't handle it?" Xander said.
"I would prefer you not have to," was Giles' response. "Buffy --"
"Nuh-uh," Buffy said. "This guy was paid to kill me and I want to find out why. And Mom's not home right now anyway."
I said, "Come on, you two. Obviously they're not going to get any work done while we're around. I'll drive you home.
We walked out to my car. As we got in, Xander said, "If you hadn't been there --"
He was griping for the sake of griping, so I didn't take it personally. "You want to see them torture the guy?"
"Do you really think they're going to torture him?" Willow asked.
Time to semi-bluff. "No -- at least not beyond slapping him around a bit. I can imagine they're going to threaten to do a whole lot more, though, and I have no interest in hearing about how inventive Angel was back when he was considerably less nice than he is now."
After I dropped Willow off -- she lived closer to the school than Xander did -- Xander jumped into the front seat and said, "Any progress?"
"On what?"
"On getting the bastard who killed Lilly arrested and sent to jail where he belongs."
I blinked. "Try to give me some warning the next time you do a subject shift like that. A turn that sharp needs a guard rail."
"Okay. Next time, warning. But I'm starting to get a little impatient."
I said, "Stop. Getting impatient, I mean. I'll let you know if everything goes to hell. But, without getting into too many details, I can say we're starting to creep closer and closer to proving that Abel Koontz didn't kill Lilly. And once he's out of jail, we can start working on getting the right guy in." After a second, I added, "You do realize it's going to be hard work convicting him, right? He knows the mayor, the governor, and is pretty much right behind Arnie and Sly when it comes to 'boffo box-office.' It's hard to convict rich celebrities in this state. For further details, please contact O.J. Simpson. Assuming he didn't leave his cell phone in the clubhouse."
"If he's not --"
"We'll work on it then. But trust me. I have no intention of letting this son of a bitch get away with it." I almost, almost added again. But that would have certainly raised a truckload of suspicions I had no intention or desire to raise.
We were at his house. "Okay," he said. "I'm still holding you to that, though."
"Do," I said.
I called Dad as soon as I saw Xander safely inside. Though given his family, 'safely' was a relative term.
It sucked when your life was bad enough that spending a night outside, in Sunnydale, where there were vampires aplenty, was a safer, happier experience than spending it inside with your family. (Amends, anyone? Think about it. Any random demon or bloodsucker could have come across Xander sleeping there and killed him, and he knew it, and he still slept outside.)
"Sweetie? I was just about to give you a buzz. You're running late."
"I'm aware. I gave Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg a ride home. I'll be back to the apartment in five."
"Then I won't need to send out the search and rescue dogs."
I think he was kidding. Though, in Sunnydale, they'd probably have to be werewolves.
Muzzled werewolves.
Dad didn't set curfews, per se. He expected me to be home at a reasonable hour, and to let him know exactly when. In advance.
He didn't ground me if I showed up five minutes late. He did expect me to call and let him know.
When I walked in, he was sitting on the couch watching an old movie. "How did Career day go?" he asked.
"I was recruited by a big software company."
Most of the joviality left his face. "Not Kane Software."
I laughed. "Jake Kane may be many things, but crazy isn't one of them. And even if he had taken complete leave of his senses, Celeste would strangle him if he even considered it." They wouldn't have a choice with the Kane Scholarship. "No, this was someone else. They tried to convince me that they needed clever, creative people as much as they needed computing geniuses."
"Sounds promising."
"Yes, it does. I'm really not interested in heading down the corporate highway, though."
He said, "You are not becoming a short order cook."
"Crush a little girl's dreams," I said. I knew what he meant; he knew I knew. He didn't want me following in his footsteps.
Well, tough. In this or any universe, I'm going into law enforcement of some form. Though I'll probably shy away from actual bounty hunter territory, which Dad strays into every now and again.
That's assuming, of course, that I don't blow my enforced wager with the Adversary and end up wherever losing the wager will end me up. He wasn't actually too specific about that, and I obviously wasn't going to ask.
I watched TV with him for a few minutes, then headed off to bed. I had this nagging feeling that I'd forgotten something.
Waking up sweating from a nightmare about a man and his "little buggy parts" reminded me exactly what.
The Order of Taraka had sent three assassins. One was tied up as of -- I checked the clock -- six hours ago. One wasn't scheduled to attack Buffy until the middle of career day.
That left Norman Pfister, aka the bugman, who'd already taken over the house next door to Buffy's.
And unlike the first go-round, Buffy would probably be spending some time there tonight.
And Norman Pfister had attacked in the morning.
Dammit.
I couldn't confront him. He'd kill me in a cold second, the same way he'd killed Buffy's neighbor. But I couldn't let Buffy face him without giving her some kind of warning.
Well, shit. No point in going back to sleep now. I lay there and thought for awhile, firming up my plan in my head. Then I took a bath and went out with Backup for an early-morning walk.
When I got back, Dad was just waking up. "Another nightmare?" He knew about my Lilly dreams. I would wake up from them on more than one occasion
"Yup," I said. "Figured I'd take advantage of the extra time. I kissed him on the cheek. "So I'm heading out now."
"What, already?"
"Time, tide, and Career Day wait for no woman," I said.
That gave me an extra 45 minutes or so.
I drove to the nearest phone booth and placed a call.
My cell phone rang. I picked it up and let the line stay open for about a minute, then hung up first the pay phone and then mine.
As I got back into my LeBaron, I called Buffy. After five rings she answered the phone. "Hello?" she said sleepily.
"Buffy? It's Veronica," I said.
"I know we've got Short Outcast Blonde solidarity," she said, yawning, "But this had still better be a good reason. I got maybe four hours of sleep last night. Cyclops took --"
"Cyclops later," I said. "New assassin now."
That killed the sleepiness in her voice. "New assassin? Who, how, when?"
"How: How do you think? I just a phone call from everyone's favorite puppeteer. Who: Not sure. She told me, 'Watch out for killer makeup salesmen. They bug me.' And she said bug like she was making some kind of joke."
"Terrific," she grumbled. "Another bug person."
"Another?"
"Xander. Praying mantis woman. Long story." After a second, she added, "Why didn't she call me?"
"Good question. I'll ask her the next time I see her. Look. Just be ready, okay?" The answer: I'd wanted to leave a trail that explicitly excluded me. I didn't think they were suspicious, but this was just in case.
"I will," she said.
"I'm coming right over," I said, hanging up.
Then I did a little shopping.
When I showed up at 1630 Revello, it didn't look like there'd been a struggle. Buffy said, "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?"
"No bugman yet?"
"Not so far. What's in the bag?"
I showed her what I'd bought:
Every can of insecticide the store had had. She laughed and said, "Clever. But I prefer the physical approach."
"This is just in case."
She nodded. "Not bad. I'll make a Scooby Gang member of you yet."
"Strictly apocalypses, Buffy."
"Yeah, yeah."
We waited. Okay. This was good. Kill the bugman early. That way you don't have to worry about Xander and Cordelia having to do it later . . .
Holy shit.
Xander and Cordelia!
Remember what I said about canon going off the rails?
That track been jumped, baby.