Author's Note: Apparently Buffy and Veronica have both seen The Long Kiss Goodnight. There's probably a good crossover between that movie and Buffy waiting to happen.

X X X X X

So why did I let her say it?

I could say it was a calculated risk, which it certainly was, but the truth was, I had no choice. I couldn't rely on successfully bluffing her long enough to get her out of town without making any wishes. Yes, this one was unpredictable, but it didn't change the past.

It was vague enough that it could make Aaron into a good family man, an action hero, or something else; I was kind of pulling for "conscience," but wasn't holding my breath. There would have to be vengeance involved, though nothing said that vengeance had to be bloody.

And after all, I am Epimetheus. I'm the only one allowed to mess with the past in Sunnydale.

Five seconds after saying "done," Anyanka walked to the now-empty corner of the room where the bar was and simply vanished. Her job here was done.

Aaron's reaction to this wish was a lot less drastic than I'd hoped when I'd heard it. He simply walked back to the couch and sank back into it.

Dad, in the meantime, turned back to Don Lamb and said, "Are we done here, Don?"

"I think I have all I need for now," he said. "Veronica, I may need to ask you a few questions later."

I grinned broadly and said, "Anything for you, deputy. Say, how's progress on yesterday's multiple homicide coming?" No, I wasn't grinning over the deaths, and yes, it had been just yesterday – about 24 hours in the past almost exactly, in fact – that I'd been led away from a bloodbath by a psychopathic vampire.

My life is never dull. Doesn't that suck?

Irritably, Lamb said, "I don't discuss active cases," and walked away.

Dad looked at me. "Let me guess," I said,. "I shouldn't tease him like that."

Dad shrugged. "I wasn't going to say anything."

I said goodbye to Cordelia, and we left.

X X X X X

We got home before it was rude to make phone calls, so (after Dad and hashed out exactly what had happened for the purpose of the reports we'd be writing for the files tomorrow), I went to my room and called Buffy to give her a two-minute summary of what had happened.

"You're sure she's gone? That Onion-girl isn't coming back?"

Onion-girl? Ah. Right. "Anyanka," I said. "And no, I'm not sure. I think she's gone for now, assuming she, and Epimetheus, weren't lying to me, and assuming my reading of the situation is right, but you know what happens when you make an assumption."

"You make an ass out of u and umption?" Buffy asked.

"Yup," I said.

"So, let's see. Last night, Drusilla. Tonight, vengeance demon. What's tomorrow night?"

"If God loves me, quiet."

I knew better, of course.

But that Drusilla might be out there stalking me had been pushed to the back of my head, and it stayed there long enough for me to complete the evening's routine and go to bed.

And then I was back at the Christmas party, headed out the back door towards the swimming pool. The Adversary was sitting by the side, in a lounge chair.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"I'm guessing this is because I told Anyanka that I knew the past and future, that you're now going to read me the riot act or say I violated the terms of the bet. So go ahead." I sat down at the edge of the pool. There was an empty chair next to him, but that would have been just too weird.

"That was a big risk, true," he said, "But it doesn't seem to have done you any damage. Miss Chase believes you were running an almost total bluff, and Anyanka believes you're a supernatural power of some sort. Neither one is anywhere close to the truth. So you're off the hook, there."

"Good to know," I said.

"However: Although Anyanka's presence was due to my decision to include your past history, your reaction to her was still yours. So you are being scored for the evening, with some leeway being given."

Still processing, I said, "So this scoring system is less like baseball and more like gymnastics? I just hope that last routine pleased the Russian judge."

"Yes," he said. "On the scoring system, anyway. There is no Russian judge, of course. There is only me."

"Something seems kind of fundamentally unfair about that," I said. "I was forced to bet against you—"

"You weren't forced, Miss Mars."

"Knock off the word-twisting," I said. "It was a Hobson's choice. You know it, I know it."

"Hobson's choice is still a choice," he said.

"Anyway," I said. "You're my opponent. And you're the judge."

"That's the way it is in Las Vegas," The Adversary said. "You bet against them and you have to rely on them to pay you off if you win."

I shook my head. "Nuh-uh. There's this little thing called the Nevada Gaming Commission. On the off chance a casino cheats, there's a decent chance that someone is going to find out eventually and call them on it. Do you have a Nevada Gaming Commission?"

"That," he said a little stiffly, "Would imply that I cheat."

"Yes it would."

"I do not. I can not. It is not in my nature. Once the game has started, I stop interfering."

"I'm not accusing you of interfering," I said. "Hell, I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm saying that it seems unfair."

"Then," he said, "You will have to live with that."

"Another Hobson's choice?"

"Yes." He stretched. "In any event, Miss Mars: To return to my baseball analogy, the game has now moved to the top of the ninth."

Exasperatedly, I said, "Can you give me any hint when it's going to end? Anything?"

"That depends how long the innings go," he said, smiling faintly and irritatingly. "I can say that it will almost certainly not end where and when you thought it would."

"Of course it won't," I said. "That doesn't mean I'll never get it right, does it?"

"If I'd meant that, I would have said so," he said. "Goodnight, Miss Mars."

He snapped his fingers and I woke up. 4:17 AM and nothing to do the rest of the night but think about what the Adversary said.

First off, I'd thought it would end at Surprise, for reasons too obvious to go into. I guess I was wrong.

No Surprise there, I guess.

I'd already been reasonably sure I wasn't going to make it there; now I was dead certain.

Whether I would get to Christmas? Anyone's guess. I wouldn't place any bets on Bad Eggs.

I suppose I could always jump the gun there – have Epimetheus call Giles and tell him about the monster in the basement.

I blinked and sat up in bed. What was I thinking? The last time I'd tried to jump the gun – yesterday – things had ended up with Amy Madison and nine other people dead, and Drusilla proclaiming herself my new best friend.

Of course, I'd managed to preempt part of Halloween, all of The Dark Age, and parts of Ted. Not to mention Sheila. Whether I'd helped with What's My Line was murkier; Buffy knew Spike and Drusilla were out there, at least, but Spike was substantially less injured.

So I wasn't going to jump the gun. But I wasn't going to rule it out. "Risk-averse" would never be a word used to describe Veronica Mars.

I didn't have the feeling I was being watched tonight. Still, I looked out the window, why I don't know. It's not like I could have done anything if Drusilla had been out there.

In any event, she wasn't. At least, I couldn't see it. Buffy wasn't either, but her mother was home, so she was lucky to squeeze in patrolling, never mind watching over a semi-paranoid friend.

Of course, I might not see either of them no matter how hard I looked; they were both fairly good at being unnoticed when they wanted.

I double-checked, found nothing again, and closed the shades.

Nothing to do now but pass the time quietly, and the only real way to do that now (because lying in my bed thinking about my situation was right out; I'd had enough of that over the weekend) was to pick up where I'd left off with Cards on the Table.

I'd just finished the book – a nice twist at the end, like with most of Christie's – when it was about time for me to wake up anyway.

So I would have to get by today on a bit under five hours of sleep.

I was used to that. And it had started well before I'd come to Sunnydale.

X X X X X

Giles caught me on my way to my locker in the morning and said, "Ah, Miss Mars. Could I have a word with you?"

"Buffy called you last night?"

"She did."

"Then you know the most important things: Vengeance demon at the Echolls Christmas Party; Epimetheus told me about her; and Cordelia stopped her from sending us all into an alternate universe."

"She did tell me all of that," he said. ""I was hoping for more details."

"And you'll get them this afternoon," I said. "If you can gather everyone in the 'Scooby Gang' up. No need to get Sheila Kelly; I'll tell her myself."

"If you could tell me now, I would very much appreciate it."

"I'd rather only tell it once," I said. "Look, Mr. Giles. I've had a lousy weekend even by my standards. I was hoping for the school day as a break to all of that, and rehashing what happened one more time than necessary isn't going to be particularly conducive to that. You know the basics. The details can wait."

Miss Mars –" I sighed. "No, Mr. Giles. This isn't an apocalypse and you're not my father." Unlike every other member of the Scoobies, I didn't particularly need a surrogate father figure. (Note that I'm not claiming any superiority in that regard, just noting a difference.) "If I thought that Anyanka was an immediate threat, I would let you know. I don't."

He hesitated for a second, and then said "Very well. After school it is, then."

"Look," I said in case I'd come across as harsh. "I appreciate everything you did for me over the weekend. Honestly. This isn't me being ungrateful, this is me not wanting to have to constantly relive it."

"I quite understand, Miss Mars," he said. "And I apologize that it came off as though I was pressuring you. I shall see you this afternoon."

X X X X X

I lost myself in schoolwork, difficult to do when you've done 85% of it before, but I managed. Sheila, though, wasn't the only person I told; I also told Logan, since he'd been involved in a good portion of the 'distract Anyanka' portion of the evening.

He wasn't in a particularly good mood, of course. I couldn't blame him.

"Listen, Mars," he said. "I'm really not up for any banter today."

"Good. I wasn't going to banter. Do you think I'm that insensitive?"

"I think that if you needed to solve a case, you'd poke and prod me no matter how you thought I or anyone else was feeling," he said.

Which was close enough to true that I couldn't take offense. "Okay. I'm not on a case. I just wanted to tell you that we managed to stop Anyanka, and that you're partly responsible. Thank you."

"At this point, I'm not sure we wouldn't be better off in another universe," Logan said. "We've got dozens of reporters on our front lawn, my Mom is holed up in a hotel, and Dad made me breakfast in bed this morning. So yay for taking down a bad guy, but right now I don't care a whole hell of a lot. Maybe later."

"I understand."

"You were there at the denouement. That does not mean you understand." After a second, he added, "Still, I do actually appreciate the sentiment. Talk to you later."

Sheila was a lot easier, but then, she hadn't been in the middle of a murder attempt and the probable beginning of divorce proceedings. I told her during lunch.

"Maybe you might not want to leave your house, manhunter," she said when I was done. "Seems like every time you leave something bad happens."

"Not true!" I protested. "I left home this morning and nothing bad's happened to me."

Grinning evilly, she said, "'snot right. First off, you ain't home yet. Second, where are you?"

"School," I said.

"The prosecution rests."

I threw a french fry at her.

X X X X X

After school came around soon enough.

I walked into the library; Buffy, Cordelia and Giles were there, but Xander and Willow hadn't straggled in yet. "Oh, good," I said. "Perfect. I'm fashionably late, but not so late that everyone's irritated. You know how I love to make an entrance."

"Since when did being fashionable ever matter to you?" Cordelia asked.

"Hey, I'm the person you're relying on to tell everyone what happened last night," I said.

"So?" she said.

"So maybe now isn't the time to take shots at me." I kept the tone light, so that Buffy and Giles would know I was teasing.

Cordelia looked confused. "Who's taking shots?" she asked. "I was asking an honest question. I mean, just look at you. Functional, yeah, sure, but it's obvious you left caring what people think about you behind a long time ago. How is that an insult?"

"You're right, as always," Buffy said.

"Yeah! The world would be a lot better off if everyone understood that."

Buffy and I looked at each other, repressing grins. Giles, for his part, was polishing his glasses; always a good excuse to avoid participating a conversation like this one.

Right then, Xander and Willow walked in, having an animated discussion on Xander's lack of study habits, which broke off as soon as they saw me. "Okay," Xander said. "Looks like it's time for another exciting episode of the thrilling tales of Veronica Mars." The tone was teasing, not mean; Xander's long-standing grudge had dissipated.

Willow slapped him on the arm anyway.

As everyone sat down, I said, "Return with me now to those thrilling hours of yesterday, when three people fought a near-hopeless battle against overwhelming odds."

"Miss Mars?" Giles said.

"I know. Knock off going for dramatic effect."

"Actually, I was wondering how you were even aware of a radio show that premiered, probably, before your father was born."

I shrugged. "Dad's love for classic entertainment. In addition to watching a ton of movies in black&white, he's also got a collection of old-time radio shows."

"Ah. Pray continue. But sans the dramatic narration, please."

"Oh, darn. I was going to call Cordelia kemo sabe and everything."

"Miss Mars –" Giles repeated, with a this-time-justified note of frustration in his voice.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Hearken to my tale and I will tell you of how Cordelia Chase saved the world. Yes, really, Xander. Cordelia. With some help from me, Logan Echolls – yes, Logan Echolls, Xander – and Epimetheus."

And so I gave them the long version of what had happened the previous night, with plenty of pauses for questions. No, Epimetheus hadn't left a number where she could be reached. Yes, she explained everything, and yes, I believed her because she hadn't lied to us any of the other times she'd interfered. I'd asked Logan for help because he knew about the world of the supernatural and my options for help were limited. Yes, really, Xander. I hadn't called them because I didn't think I had the time, and because I didn't think any of them could have gotten in, or stayed in if they had without making a big scene of it, no insult intended.

I gave them fewer details about the blowup between Aaron and Lynn Echolls; they could get enough of that from the papers anyway.

The wish caught me off guard; sorry. I don't do this for a living; I did the best I could.

Yes, Xander, really. Please stop asking.

Yes; Cordelia's reflexes stopped us all from going into an alternate universe. I'm assuming that somehow she read my magic-nullness and that something about that threw her into assuming I was some kind of slumming higher power. Of course it was a silly idea, but sometimes silly ideas are all you have.

Yes, Willow, really.

Yes, I let Anyanka make the wish. Because I had no choice. Because I couldn't afford to have her figure out my bluff, get mad, and start trashing the joint, or Cordelia, or me.

I know it was a risk. It was a big risk. Under the circumstances? I think we did pretty good. So knock off the criticism.

No, I don't know what effect the wish has had yet. If you open your mouth, Xander, I'll jam your shoes into it.

When I was done, finally, Giles was the first to thank Cordelia. Buffy was second, and Xander was next, though mainly because Willow had nudged him until he said something.

Willow finished it off.

I wouldn't have engineered this to thank anyone else, and it's not like Cordelia Chase needed an ego boost, but she'd had to work like hell to earn their respect, no matter how much she might have claimed otherwise. Maybe this would help a bit.

And she had earned it. Her instincts had been to save mankind rather than to run and hide. That said a lot about her.

(Note: I'd always liked Cordelia as a character; it was turning out I liked her as a person as well.)

"Have you had quite enough adulation, Cordelia?" Giles said, not unkindly.

She sighed and said, "I guess I've had enough for the moment. But just remember you all owe me your lives."

"I'm sure you'll keep reminding us," Xander said.

Cutting short Cordelia's outraged squawk, Giles said, "That's not quite all I wanted to go through today. As you're all aware, Miss Mars had quite a busy weekend, and atypically, most of it was spent in our field, not hers. There appears to be nothing we can do about Anyanka at the moment, and in any event she rarely overstays her welcome. However, there is something we can do about her other main tormentor, Drusilla. Buffy and I spent some time discussing this and we both feel the time to strike is now, before Spike is back to full health."

Huh.

Is it the bottom of the ninth already?