Author's Note: I know exactly where I'm going at the end of this particular storyline, most of how to get there, and the next one, as well.

All is not necessarily going to end well, in this particular storyline.

X X X X X

Once I explained why I needed his help, Angel was willing to do so. "This is dangerous, you know." Not being patronizing; just making sure I knew. There's a line there, and Angel was good enough not to cross it.

"I know," I said. "My job is to figure out how to find this place. My choice was follow a witch, beat up a witch and make her tell me -- and that wasn't going to happen -- or ask another magical creature. Once I know whether you can find the place, I can hand it over to you and stand back and watch the fireworks."

He nodded his head. "That seems safe enough."

"Good to know," I said. "I know he could set up shot anywhere but I think it'd be smarter for him not to do it anywhere public -- just in case that one Sunnydale resident who knows what's what wanders by and wonders what the people are doing disappearing into thin air."

"Alleys and graveyards it is," he said.

So we drove around for about an hour, keeping an eye out for any obvious signs, and finding nothing.

At some point, after we passed by another alley where Rack wasn't, I looked at my watch and said, "Well, shit."

"Shit?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. It's more or less time that I have to go home. Could you --?"

"Keep looking?" he said, finishing the question for me. "Sure."

"Don't put yourself out doing it, though," I said as he started to step out of the car. "I mean, if takes you more than another hour or so, you might as well stop and we'll try to find some other way." I didn't think it had taken Clem this long in the original timeline; either he was luckier or I was remembering it wrong. "We'll move on to Plan B."

Angel nodded. "Makes sense."

"And you're going to keep on looking anyway," I said, not making it a question.

"Yes," he said.

"Don't go charging after him by yourself," I said.

He said, "I wasn't planning on it. If I see someone actually in danger, all bets are off. But otherwise, I'll just let you know what I find."

"Good. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, and shut the door.

I headed home, talked to Dad – who was just ending yet another interview – played with Backup for five minutes, and eventually went to bed.

X X X X X

No dreams. No relevant dreams, anyway, unless you count dreams of pure rage, where I ended up kicking the hell out of someone nameless.

I'm not violent. Never have been. But right now, no matter that my public persona was still more or less "bright and clever Veronica," inside a large part of me still wanted to take the Adversary and beat him bloody. Angry Veronica was still very much in play, if being channeled heavily towards Rack, rather than my preferred target, who was unapproachable as unapproachable gets.

Just bear that in mind.

As I was walking down the halls at Sunnydale High Thursday morning, I heard Giles behind me saying, "Miss Mars. A word?"

I turned around and said, "Sure. What word would you like? I like billionaire, myself."

I could tell he was trying to refrain from rolling his eyes, but eventually he gave up trying, rolled them, and said, "It concerns your activities of last night. Angel left you a message, through me."

"Ah." I followed him back to the library.

Once we got through the double doors, he pulled an envelope from under his tweed jacket and handed it to me. My name was on the outside, along with a scrawled "Giles – please give this to Veronica."

It was still sealed. "As you might have guessed, this has something to do with me trying to find a way to locate Rack."

"Where did Angel come in?"

"Well, I remembered that Rae said that she'd heard only magical creatures could find Rack's lair – which meant I could be standing right on top of the place and I wouldn't notice -- and Angel was easier to locate than Buffy. Sheila probably would have done it, but I wasn't going to risk her."

"Ah," Giles said.

I opened the envelope and read the message Angel had left.

Short version: He'd found Rack and mentioned a few details.

Long version: He'd actually found Rack's TARDIS in a vacant lot well away from downtown, in an industrial park. He'd watched for maybe an hour or so, seeing people go in and out – four came in, five left, all staggering, giggling, and happy. One began to sparkle as though he were made of fireworks, and no one bothered to ask him to tone it down.

There were quite a few cars in the area, as well.

At the end, he mentioned two other vampires who'd wandered by.

"Thinking about going after the easy pickings?" one asked.

"Yeah," Angel said.

"Don't bother. Sucks, man. All that meat, looks so easy. But the guy in there? Keeps an eye on his customers."

The other one said, "We've had no luck tonight and we're going home and we still wouldn't touch them."

"Customers? And why not?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. Kind of like a drug dealer. Anyway, he doesn't want them getting killed. Vampires get too close, he knows and deals with 'em. You heard of Manny? Big Manny? Burned him from the inside out."

"Good to know," Angel said, and killed the two vampires, and that's pretty much where he ended the impromptu report.

I growled in outrage.

"Miss Mars?" Giles asked.

"Angel is simultaneously a big help and a complete idiot," I said. Well, he wasn't a private detective yet. But still, he should have known better.

I handed Giles the letter and let him read it.

The stuff at the beginning? Something of a help. Even if his clientele is more careful the more crowded the neighborhood around them gets, people walking unmolested down a dark alley in Sunnydale? A definite sign something's going on. And finding out that vampires can't get too close without setting off alarms? Also good, and good business sense for Rack to keep his customers alive. Dead people are a lot less likely to pay you, even in Sunnydale.

But what Angel shouldn't have done was kill the two vampires. Not until he'd found out what else they might know. Giles in his books, Ms. Calendar online, all helpful, but none of it as helpful as finding out directly from someone in the know.

And while I, and Buffy and Angel I assume, would be perfectly willing to question some of the witches – and I wish Angel had paid more attention to who the customers were, but that, he hadn't been asked, so I wasn't going to hold it against him – the witches were the kind of informants that, you know, we had to keep alive. And since here in season 2 I don't think the Scooby Gang was up for either prolonged kidnapping or memory spells, that meant that Rack would hear about what we were up to as soon as the witch we'd questioned could run there and tell him.

That was a problem we didn't have with vampires. No, those two didn't know what was inside – I did, of course, but couldn't tell anyone – but they sure as hell knew more than any of us had, except maybe Rae and Ms. Calendar. Maybe we'd be lucky and Rack was common knowledge throughout the local vampire populace, but it wasn't something I was going to bet the mortgage on.

"Ah," Giles said. "You believe Angel should have let those two vampires go."

"Yes. I do."

Giles said, "I understand your reasoning. Still, what if they had gone on to kill other people last night? Is that a trade you would have been willing to make?"

"If you could read the future and guarantee me that Angel saved lives? No. But if every vampire in Sunnydale killed someone every night, we'd run out of people by January. That's not a guarantee. Not even close. Besides, they had no reason to lie to Angel when they said they were done for the night."

"You can see why he felt he couldn't take the risk," Giles said.

"I do," I said. "But there were ways around that didn't involve killing two good sources."

I stood up; Giles moved to hand me the letter, and I waved him off. "You can use it more than I can," I said. "Did your research turn up anything?"

"Less than yours did," he said. "There is nothing in any of the books I have with me. I've put in a call to the headquarters of the Watchers' Council – and another to the head of a witches' coven I know -- to see if perhaps someone there knows more than I do on the man."

"That would seem to indicate that he's probably human – the longer someone's around, the more likely one of you guys would have been to run into him before."

"True, but hardly a guarantee," Giles said. "I believe we should all meet after school. Would you mind spreading the word?"

"Consider it spread," I said, and left.

X X X X X

Got a regular case; finding out who was sending a sophomore love notes. Sounded like Duncan's style, but this girl wasn't his type – not unless he harbored a secret lust for uber-gothy goth chicks, that was. (Hint: No.)

Speaking of: It seemed as though Duncan was going to carry this grudge for a while yet. He wasn't being self-destructively immature about it – he still asked me, through an intermediary, to come proofread for the paper that weekend.

That intermediary was one Logan Echolls. I hadn't had much of a chance to talk to him since the news break, since he'd usually been with Duncan, and after school, he'd been over there helping him cope in the inimitable Echolls style, which usually meant massive amounts of video games mixed with the occasional round of poker. (Not kitten poker, thankfully. Sunnydale hadn't changed things that much.)

"So," I asked. "Where's your Siamese twin?"

"Didn't you hear, Mars? The separation surgery was a success."

I made a production of staring at his forehead, eventually saying, "You mean that's not a lobotomy scar?"

"The opposite, actually," he said. "They were packing in as much brains as they could."

"Hmmm. And with all that rock in the way, too. I'm impressed." Before the banter could continue – shame, because I was enjoying it – I got serious and said, "Listen. We haven't talked a whole lot since my Dad went and upset the Kane applecart."

He shrugged. "If I had something to say to you, I would," he said. "Whether your Dad was right when he was Sheriff, he's certainly right now. Jake Kane paid someone to die to protect his son. Noble in a twisted sense of the word, but it does violate the laws of the great State of California. He took a chance and he got nailed for it. I have no sympathy for him." Then a flash of anger emerged. "Besides, that means Lilly's killer has had nearly a year and half to get him or herself good and lost because of that. Attaboy, Jakey!"

"So, not upset?"

"Not at you, for this," he said. "Do you care, Mars?" The tone was half-needling.

"A little," I said. "Enough that I asked."

He smiled, and for once it was genuine. "You always surprise me, Veronica. I was sure you were going to come out with something smartassed there."

"Naah. Fresh out of sarcasm. Delivery truck's due in the morning, though."

The smirk returned. "Put me in for a double order, then. Things are getting entirely too touchy-feely around here."

"You noticed that too, huh?" I said. "Okay, a double order it is. Tell Duncan I'll be in to proofread when he has me scheduled. Also tell him that this is the last time I take instructions through a go-between and that if he has anything else to day to me, he can say it to my face."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this one."

"Kind of what a go-between is, by definition. Now get."

"Aye aye." He gave me a mock salute, and left.

X X X X X

The afternoon's conference -- sans Rae, who was (of course) at the store, was noticeably missing one Cordelia Chase and Xander Harris for the first ten minutes or so.

It was almost businesslike. First Giles revealed that he'd found nothing in the books about Rack, but then told us that his contact in an English coven had said that the man was well known and loathed by a large number of witches, and that he was persona non grata to them; they'd spent a lot of time curing his victims. To the best of their knowledge, he was human, at least by birth. They didn't know his real name.

"My best line of research was in what enabled him to either create or control a pocket dimension the way he does," Giles said. "Accessing it, yes. Causing the access point to move at will? That is uncommon. And possibly, we can find a way to break that control."

"That matches what I found," Ms. Calendar said, "Though a couple don't know if he's completely human any more. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself magically. Physically, he's no great shakes, though."

I explained what Angel had found, as Cordelia and Xander stumbled in, bickering. "I'm not going to repeat myself," I said over an insult. "Sit down and hush and maybe somebody'll fill you in later."

"You think he should have left the vampires alive?" Buffy asked.

"Killing off leads is usually a bad idea, yes," I said. "Even if those leads are bloodsucking members of the undead. And Giles and I have already had the rest of this conversation, so let's just go with 'philosophical differences' and move on from there."

"You're willing to let people die?" Willow asked.

"Or not. No, I'm not. Guarantee me that those two vampires were going to kill someone between 2:00 AM and sunrise and I'm all for lopping their heads off. Not a whole lot of people roaming around Sunnydale at that time except the people at Rack's, and they were going home anyway. I'd call that a calculated gamble."

"Well, we'll see tonight if you owe Angel an apology," Buffy said. "I'll go find a couple of other vampires and see what they know."

"Shouldn't Veronica be questioning them?" Cordelia said. "I mean, she is the expert, right?"

I wasn't planning on channeling my anger into near-suicide. "If you can arrange it so there's no chance the vamp breaks free? I'm game. In the middle of a cemetery with maybe a half dozen other vampires just waiting to jump us? Nuh-uh."

"Okay," Buffy said, "If I can arrange it?"

"I'll come," I said. I knew Buffy wasn't going to risk my life, or even seriously pretend to."

"It seems we have our plans for the evening," Giles said.

"You and Ms. Calendar going to keep researching?" Xander asked.

Ms. Calendar smirked and said, "Something like that."

At that point, all the teenagers in the room stood up, including me. "If you wanted us to leave," Buffy said, "You could have just said so."

It didn't gross me out the way it seemed to every other Sunnydale High student in the room, but I wasn't prurient enough to be interested in what happened next, either.

We all went our separate ways.

X X X X X

I was doing my homework at the desk at Dad's office an hour or so later, when I nearly had a heart attack.

Aaron Echolls walked in.

He grinned and said, "Hi, Veronica. Your dad in?"

Tight control, Veronica. Tight.

"Yes," I said. "What did you want to see him about?"

"I have a case for him," he said.

"Hold on." I buzzed Dad's office and said, "Dad? Aaron Echolls is here to see you."

Dad was outside in the waiting room five seconds later. "Aaron," Dad said. "What can I do for you?" From the expression on Dad's face, you'd think he no more thought Aaron Echolls was a murderer than anyone else in the town except for me and Xander Harris.

"Yeah, Keith," he said. "I've been getting death threats. Can we talk in your office?"

"Sure," Dad said. "Go right in. I'll be there in a second."

As Aaron Echolls walked into my father's office, Dad shut the door, then came over and said, "You know why I'm doing this, right?" very quietly.

"We can't make him suspicious," I said.

"More than that. With access, maybe I can find proof."

"I trust you," I said. "Go. Before he gets suspicious."

As Dad went into his office, I collapsed in my chair.

I'd thought only two of my own personal "storylines" had come with me.

Apparently I'd been wrong.

Welcome, one and all, to my very own rerun of an Echolls Family Christmas.