AAuthor's Note: Thanks to Snag, Ponder, and Duchess for helping me out with the Echolls Family Christmas timeline and a couple of other plot points. Some of that is incorporated here.

X X X X X

Of course, in the original timeline, it had been Lynn Echolls who'd hired Dad with Aaron pooh-poohing the entire thing. Why had this changed? I don't know. This couldn't be a direct rerun, anyway, because there was no Weevil Navarro to get pissed off at getting cheated in a poker game. Maybe Aaron, who I've never seen as being a moron ( a loathsome, murderous, publicity-hungry, ignorant-about-his-family sexual predator, but not a moron), had subconsciously picked up on the dangers of Sunnydale and was willing to take these threats more seriously because of it.

Either way, that meant I couldn't rely on my knowledge of the future to handle this in more than a very broad sense. If Logan came to me asking me to help him with a problem with his poker game, I'd know where to go. Until then, I'd have to play it by ear.

It also occurred to me that maybe more people than in the original timeline might have cause to loathe Aaron Echolls. In that go-round, Xander Harris hadn't been around to date Lilly, and unlike Weevil, Xander knew damn well who'd killed Lilly. He'd promised not to go after the man, but a nasty note or two? Not out of the realm of possibility.

So Dad and Giles handled their investigations, and I headed home to bed.

X X X X X

I got to school early again the next morning and was treated to a glare, but no comments, from Snyder. I wonder if me telling him off had led to him deciding it just wasn't worth the effort, or something.

I wasn't betting my future, there. (I wasn't going to be making any bets for the rest of my life, if I had a choice; at least, not ones that weren't sanctioned by Vegas or at least the California Gaming Commission. A run-in with the Adversary can have that effect. On the off chance you ever run into him, keep this in mind. I'd say run, but really, why waste your energy?)

Buffy came up to me. "Let me guess," I said. "Giles wants to talk to me."

"And you said you couldn't do magic," Buffy said. "You just read my mind."

"So what am I thinking now?" I asked brightly as we walked towards the library.

"You're not my type," Buffy said.

I shrugged. "Close enough."

Giles and Ms. Calendar were there. "You two get anything last night?" I asked when I walked in. "And no, that wasn't an attempt to gross Buffy out."

"Death threats," Ms. Calendar said curtly.

"What?" Buffy asked in outrage. "You didn't tell me --"

"They hadn't happened yet," Giles said wearily.

"I was on one of the forums when I got an email from one of the other members telling me that I'd better lay off Rack; that they knew who I was and if anything happened they'd come for me. I shut down my computer immediately and did a thorough check; it looks like they were bluffing, at least about knowing who I was --"

"But in any event, it would seem that Rack might be aware that someone is looking into him," Giles said.

"I guess that means our plans for an all-out frontal assault are out, then," I said.

"Assuming we ever had such plans," Giles said, "Yes, they most certainly are."

"Just for the record, I never did," I said. "From everything I got last night this guy might be too powerful for us to even think about trying that anyway. I'm the only one he can't really affect, and I wouldn't be able to do a whole hell of a lot once I got to him."

"Yes, this is going to require a bit of thought," Giles said. "Still, the work you did last night should prove invaluable in that regard."

"Angel went around and checked around the eight places that vampire listed last night," Buffy said, "And found the entrance to Rack's at the fifth of them, in an alley maybe four blocks from the Bronze."

"And some of the other information matches what Giles and I learned," Ms. Calendar said.

"And since Zeb had no way of knowing that we had other sources that tells me we can pretty much trust everything he said," I said. "Hey – how about the entry to his TARDIS?"

"Ah," Giles said. "There, I have found much that is promising. I believe with the proper components we could indeed shut off his access to that dimension." He got a faintly aggrieved look on his face. "And could you please stop referring to it as a TARDIS?"

"Do you find the usage genuinely insulting or just mildly annoying?"

He hesitated. "Well –"

"TARDIS it is," I said.

"Shouldn't've hesitated, Giles," Buffy said.

He fixed her with a stern glare. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, thank you."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Not at the moment," Giles said.

"Cool." I got up and headed to class.

X X X X X

The mystery of gothy-goth's secret admirer was solved by lunchtime; I confronted my suspect in my office between second and third periods, told my client about him after third, and introduced them at lunchtime. It was about the most unlikely crush you'd ever want to see, from the viewpoint of how they looked, anyway; the secret admirer was as preppy as it comes. I'd say he was an '09er if I still lived in Neptune.

She paid me $100, and went off to talk with the guy. I couldn't tell if she was flattered, insulted, or wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp, but it wasn't really my concern anymore.

The end of the case cleared maybe 5% of my schedule, but with my life every little bit helps. I gulped down a yogurt and went to go track down Xander.

He was sitting at the other end of the cafeteria, trying and failing to entertain a couple of other students by playing with his food. It took me a minute – and the ability to dodge falling Jell-O – but I finally caught his attention and got him to walk with me.

He stopped short at the entrance to my office. "I'm not going into the girl's room," he said.

"Well, I'd make the meeting in the janitor's closet instead, but I'm afraid Cordelia would sue me for copyright infringement," I said. "Move."

He got in there and I put the Out of Order sign on the door. "You seem annoyed," he said.

Oh, boy, was that the understatement of the century. "Not at you." I said. "You just happen to be the person in front of me. If you repeat this to anyone, I will deny it emphatically. Do you agree not to repeat it?"

"Is it going to involve hurting anyone I care about?"

"I'm pretty sure it won't," I said. "In fact, it involves pain to someone you actively hate."

"Then I agree," he said.

"Thought you would," I said. "Are you sending threatening letters to Aaron Echolls?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

As a liar, Xander Harris was fair to middling, for the most part. I was pretty sure I could tell the difference, and this time, my instincts told me he was genuinely confused.

Still, instincts? Good to use. Helpful. Not something to rely on for 100% of your information unless you have nothing else to go on. So I pushed a little.

"Someone's been sending Aaron Echolls letters threatening to kill him. You have motive. I wanted to be sure it wasn't you."

He blinked a couple of times, and then said, "why do you care if someone's threatening that bastard?'

"Directly? I don't. I don't even care if they carry it out. But Aaron hired my Dad yesterday to find out who's been threatening him, and if it's you, he will find out. So, if it's you, stop. And if it's not you, don't pick up on it as a wonderful idea.'

Nodded his head slightly, he said, "Okay. Fair enough. And just for the record, it's not me."

"I didn't think it was your style but I had to make sure," I said.

"I get that," he said. "And while we're on the subject of the psychopathic murdering bastard –"

Well, I couldn't say I wasn't expecting this. "Yes?" I asked.

"What's being done to make sure he gets what's coming to him?" Xander asked.

"My father knows everything I do, and I'm sure he knows more besides," I said. "Except, I've never brought you up. He doesn't know you dated Lilly, or that you've also seen the evidence. He may run across you on his own. I'd make book on it. But he agrees with you and me: Aaron did it. You didn't, Logan Echolls, didn't, Duncan didn't. But you'd all be top on the list of 'people to throw into the line of fire' if we accused him without having every I dotted and T crossed."

"Yeah. I got that," Xander said. "Hey. Would it be worth it for me to go to your Dad in advance? 'cause I'm assuming the local cops, who have already proven that they can't tell the difference between the Hellmouth and the holes in their heads, aren't going to be worth it."

I snorted. "Going to them would be counterproductive. They'd probably latch on to you until they twisted things to make you fit. Donnie doesn't learn from experience and he's still sour because he was wrong on Abel Koontz and because Ted Buchanan is 'still at large.'" Actually, on balance, Lamb was still coming out looking good when it came to Ted; the Sunnydale Sheriff's Department still got the credit for flushing him out and gathering enough evidence to send him to the gas chamber.

Still, it would be a major publicity coup for them to catch Lilly's "real killer."

"Dad, though," I continued, "He might grill you till you scream, but he'll be fair."

"Do you think my name will come up?"

"Not through me," I said. "Otherwise? Your call."

He said, "Okay. Thanks for the information, and the advice."

I smiled. "That's what I'm here for."

X X X X X

Sheila caught up with me in between classes that afternoon and said, "Mind if I come with you?"

"Well, I'll be going to the office –"

"Don't care," she said. "Not going home tonight. Mom had the stomach flu last weekend."

She wouldn't elaborate, but she didn't need to. Mabel Kelly wouldn't drum up any business if she was throwing up all over the place. I was guessing she was going to be working and extra-long weekend; hell, she might even be working now. No way would Sheila want to go home.

"I don't know about tonight," I said, though I could probably convince Dad to let Sheila stay there one night, "But you can stay with as long as possible."

She nodded. "Thanks, manhunter."

"You okay on books?"

"Got a couple from the library," she said. "'sokay, there."

I checked in with Buffy, but there was nothing concerning Rack scheduled for after school, so Sheila and I went from there to home, to walk and feed Backup. (He still liked Sheila; his initial reaction had apparently been right. I needed to learn to trust him more.

From there, we headed to the office.

There wasn't a lot to do; Dad was out and about tracking down possible Aaron Echolls stalkers, so that pretty much left me with mail sorting and general straightening up. Not that the office ever became a pig sty, anyway. Combined that took about an hour, with Sheila sitting and waiting on the couch, reading a book called Guns of the South.

"My turn?" Sheila said when I said I was done. "Cool. Magic time."

And so to the Magic Box, where Rae waved and nodded us to the back room.

"Nothin' new to day, manhunter," Sheila said. "Same old stuff. 'm just combining it, is all." And so, once again, I dragged in a couple of packing crates, and stood clear as Sheila took out a knife.

"Find the target and--?" I asked.

"Focus," she said. "Draw a mark and get over here." So I took a tube of lipstick and drew the mark, then moved to stand next to Sheila.

She closed her eyes, muttered a couple of words, opened them, and threw the knife --

Which not only hit the wood of the crate, it broke entirely threw it and buried itself inside the crate on the far side.

"Impressive," I said.

She grinned her trademark evil grin and said, "Thanks. Can't combine it with the distance strike for some reason, but I'm working on it. Still cool, though. Almost like I have superstrength."

"How long before you join the WWF?"

"Don't really give a shit about pandas," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "Wrestling, nitwit," I said.

"I know. And I'm not. The women never get to do any real hitting. And can you see me in a bikini and leather pants?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, and said, "I don't think there's a way for me to answer that question without having it sound dirty."

"I know."

"Has anyone ever told you you're evil?"

"Many times. And they're usually right."

A deep voice behind us -- near the doorway to the back alley -- said, "I could help you with that spell."

Sheila and I whirled around.

Apparently it was "Give Veronica Mars a heart attack" week in the universe, because the guy who said that?

Rack.

Yes, that Rack. Long dark hair, black shirt, smarmy look on his scarred face. A jovial Snape.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Sheila looked at me. "This is him?"

"This is him," I said.

Rack looked at me. "How do you know who I am?"

"Educated guess," I snapped. "What do you want, Rack?"

"One moment," he said. "So that would be a no, then?" he asked Sheila.

"Damn right. Just got over one addiction. Don't need another."

Where the hell was Rae? "Give her a 'first one's free' and I'll kill you where you stand." Bluff? No. Wishful thinking? Probably. No matter that his magic wouldn't work on me, no matter that I couldn't hear anyone else, he was still bigger than I was. And I was pretty sure all my holy water pistol would do was get him wet.

He smiled. "I appreciate your willingness to defend your friend. No, if she doesn't want my help. I won't give it to her. I actually came to talk with you, Miss Mars."

"Oh really?" I asked. "Someone swipe your cash jar? Because you needing a private detective? I can't see it." I'd ask how he knew my name, but really, it couldn't have been too hard to find out once he put in the effort.

"Not as a detective," he said. "As a messenger. There are efforts afoot to end my business here -- and that would end in disaster." He frowned slightly. "Due to some kind of interference, I can't tell what kind of disaster, but I'm fairly sure it would end up with everyone involved dead, or wanting to be -- including me. This would occur if you came after me, or if I tried a pre-emptive strike. I don't think anyone wants that." I read him as telling the truth; my instinct was all I had to go on here.

"So whaddaya want her to do?" Sheila asked.

"I want a meeting," he said. "The time and place of your choosing."

"How will you know?" I said.

"Leave a message with Ms. Mistwood," he said. "Do we have a deal?"

"A tentative one," I said.

He nodded slightly. "Good enough." He turned to walk outside, and we followed him in time to see him disappear into a doorway in the alley.

Well.

Of all the ways I'd seen this being settled?

Diplomacy was somewhere on the bottom of the list.

Right above "High card wins."