Of course, saying I was going to help Buffy, and actually helping her, were two different things. I might have been spinning like my life depended on it when me and the Scoobies were hashing the subject out in the library, but I wasn't exactly lying. It was going to be just short of impossible to track down Spike and Drusilla's lair - at least, not by research alone.

Of course, there was always surveillance; tailing a vampire back to 'headquarters.'Problem with that in this town, of course, was that A, that vampire might see you, or B, some other vampire might see you. So, probably not high on the list.

Which brought it back to finding a vampire and beating it out of them, or using a tracking spell, both of which were highly possible.

Those two options should be enough.

If it wasn't -

Well, I'd cross that bridge if I needed to come to it. There was a third option out there, though it was one I would use only if everything else was going to hell.

(And no, the option was not "Ask Drusilla." Suicide? Not in my plans at the moment. She might tell me, but then, she'd have to kill me. Or she'd tell me and then she'd tell Spike. Or she'd tell me, "The lost city of Atlantis." I liive too close to the edge already; this would be throwing myself over it.)

So. Plans made. Decisions, etc. And since I wasn't being hauled up in judgment before the Adversary I had to assume that the game wasn't over yet.

In the meantime, sleep. Perchance, not to dream.

X X X X X

Well, perchance to dream, but neither about the Adversary nor Lilly. Not soothing; apocalyptic. But being magic-null I was probably the only being in Sunnydale who could have a dream about the end of the world and not actually have to worry about it coming true.

If I saw a porcupine, though, I was running for the hills.

Don't ask.

I left this morning and once again saw a certain familiar short blonde outcast standing in the parking lot. "You know," I told Buffy as I walked up to her, "You do have to sleep sometime."

"Not as much as you'd think," she said, stifling a yawn. "Guess that would've come off better without the yawn, huh?"

I grinned and said, "Don't think I don't appreciate the effort, but keeping my peace of mind? Not on the top ten list of Slayer things to do, I'm guessing. Might be a good idea to have you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when it comes to killing the vampires."

"Yeah," she said. "Still -"

"Look," I said seriously. "I do appreciate this. Really. But I can survive a couple of nights while we hash out how best to find and destroy Spike and Drusilla." I gestured for her to get into the LeBaron.

As we both got in and I started the car, she said, "Don't think I didn't notice that we, but are you sure about that?"

I sighed. "No, but that doesn't make 'you need your sleep' any less right. If it makes you feel better to spot check, come on out and spot check. But try to at least keep up to the point where you're not going to be falling asleep in your corn flakes."

After a second, she sad, "Okay. Now, about that we . . . ."

"Yeah, I decided to give it my best shot, whether sleuthing would help or not. I still don't think computer searches are going to be all that helpful, but I'll still do what I can. Whatever that is."

"Still don't want to be in the same room when everything hits the fan, though, right?

"I don't want to be on the same planet. Unfortunately, that's not really much of an option."

X X X X X

I caught up with Sheila between classes and asked her, if she had to, if she might be up for another tracking spell.

"'course. What do you need tracked?"

"Not what, who. That crazy vampire who's been stalking me. And her boyfriend."

"I'll do it," she said with a kind of grim eagerness that made me worry.

"The enthusiasm? Nice. Not necessary at the moment. We're going to be trying other options first. Just making sure you're ready to be a backup plan." Despite Sheila's jones for killing Drusilla - who'd managed to scare the living hell out of me twice in recent memory, not to mention having brutally murdered ten people - I was no more eager to throw her into the line of fire than she was eager to have me in it. I had friends, remember. I used my friends. I'd done it with Wallace, I'd done it with Mac, and I was going to tamp it down if it killed me.

And take that literally.

"Absolutely, manhunter," she said. "Anything you need."

"Thanks. Anyway, how're your spells going?"

"Mostly good. Workin' on the darkness one. Wanna see after school?"

"I'll let you know. We're going to try a few other methods of tracking first. At the magic store?"

"Yeah," she said. "Though I could do it at home tonight." I didn't need to ask why. Obviously Mabel aka Grace Kelly was going to be entertaining her clients elsewhere this evening.

We went our separate ways.

X X X X X

Nothing else was hanging fire, save for a bit of schoolwork I hadn't done the first time around, and which I spent time less time doing than I just spent writing about. So my day passed quickly and uneventfully. I even turned down an offer to find out who was blackmailing a senior, because honestly, at this point I had better things to do.

I had, for far too long, kept up the pretense that I was Veronica Mars, girl detective, the same way I had been in my original timeline. I was, but I wasn't.

Take that, law of contradiction.

I'd gone through the motions of finding my rapist, and trying once again to prove that Aaron Echolls had killed Lilly. I'd had to, to be me, and to avoid having the people here who "knew" me get too suspicious.

But, just like I wasn't here to preserve the timeline, I wasn't here to relive my own, either. I might not be able to prove that Warren raped me, though I was damn sure he had.

And this Aaron Echolls might never be brought to justice while I was around to see it. I might never see the end of that particular storyline.

(And yes, I was now thinking of my own life as having storylines, and not thinking that that was so unusual. I could make some grand philosophical statement about that, except me? Not really much for the grand philosophical statements. It was just an easier way to phrase things. The lines between realities can get pretty damn blurred sometimes, particularly when you're right in the middle of one that shouldn't exist.)

The point was, though, is that right now, the me that was exclusively a detective had to take a back seat, in this universe, to the me that was trying to change things. I had to be, as fully as I could, the Veronica Mars who was just visiting this universe, not the one who belonged here. The me who belonged here would still have Aaron Echolls as a priority.

And – much as I hated it – I couldn't. Not and not, effectively, concede.

No matter that I'd hashed out my, and Dad's, progress on the Aaron situation with Xander yesterday. If things somehow continued – if the status stayed quo – I'd get back to it. If Aaron and his new wish-enhanced life didn't take care of it for me, somehow.

But for that to occur, something would have to go in a direction I wasn't currently considering. Which, admittedly, wouldn't be the first time.

Wouldn't even be the hundredth.

Made it through the day without much else in the way of incident, though Logan noticed me turning down the case. "Veronica Mars turning down a mystery?" he asked. "Is all not well in the land of cut-rate detectiving?"

Mockery, but reasonably gentle mockery. None of the hard edge his insults used to have.

"All is fine in that land," I said. "And in my own land of highly skilled detective work, it's even better."

"Then why turn down a job? I know it;s not because you're suddenly flush with filthy lucre."

"I have other things on my mind at this point." Logan was not getting involved in the tracking down of Spike or Drusilla. I wouldn't be getting Sheila involved, except she'd do it with or without my permission. "Nothing more." After a second, I added, "Filthy lucre? Really?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I like the phrase and don't really get the opportunity to use it that often."

"Makes as much sense as anything else you do."

"Best I can hope for, I suppose," he said, and went on his way.

Note that I asked him nothing at all about the events at the Christmas party. He seemed to be in a somewhat more pleasant mood and I had no intention of all of knocking him out of it. His life was hard enough right now; I wasn't going to intentionally make it harder.

And if that doesn't prove I'm not the Veronica Mars I used to be, nothing will.

X X X X X

At the end of the day, I collected as many of the Scooby Gang as I could (Buffy, Willow) and Sheila (who said, "'snot like I've had time to come up with a spell, manhunter," but didn't actually protest me dragging her along.

"Miss Mars?" Giles said. "Not that your presence isn't always welcomed, but, um, whence your presence?"

"I was thinking about our conversation of last night," I said. "And maybe I jumped the gun a little when I said I might not be able to help track down Spike and Drusilla." I got a strange look from Giles. "It is daytime," I said.

He chuckled. "Right. So it is."

"And that makes a difference why?" Willow asked.

"'cause manhunter's being stalked by that bitch Drusilla," Sheila said. "Sun goes down, she might be listening in."

"Oh." Willow's voice contained a distinct tone of "I should have thought of that myself."

"No big thing," I said. "Look. There may be things I can do strictly on the computer, and in the middle of broad daylight well away from sewer entrances, that might help me track down where they're holding up. Alternatively, Sheila's working on a tracking spell. Which," I said firmly, "She will use only when I say, and will also stick to the middle of broad daylight, well away from sewer entrances. Right?"

"You think you're the boss of me?" Sheila asked, with just a hint of genuine irritation.

"Just a concerned friend," I said.

Grumpily, she said, "Sure. Go that route."

"Whatever keeps you from getting killed," I said cheerfully. "And there's a third alternative, one that doesn't require any fancy detecting on my part – though it might take my interrogation skills."

"You want to do what we did with that vamp in the warehouse," Buffy said, catching on right away.

"Not quite the same thing, but close enough," I said. "Or you could just beat it out of them, if you or Angel find yourself in the mood to be hitting something."

"Or, perhaps," Giles suggested, "We could attempt all three. Buffy, it might might be advisable to get in touch with Angel tonight -"

"Will do," Buffy said. "Might take a day to set up another hidey-place, but it's definitely on the doable side of things."

"What's wrong with the one we used before?"

"They're actually using it as a warehouse now."

"Is that even allowed?" Willow asked. "'cause I'm fairly sure that violates some law."

"I would think," Giles said, "We would prefer their use as warehouses instead of hiding places for our assorted nemeses."

"Point to Mr. Giles," I said.

"They don't hand out the title of Watcher to any fool off the street," Giles said. "Miss Kelly? Will you need any assistance?"

"Naaah. I got the books and I got Rae or you to ask if've got trouble figuring something out. I'm good."

"Can I help?" Willow asked eagerly.

Sheila seemed less than thrilled by the possibility of this, so I said, "Baby steps, remember?"

"I know," Willow grumbled. "But I'd like to do something. Something besides reading and studying and meditating."

"Hey, meditating helped me get this far," Sheila said. Which was only half a point, because Sheila's meditation technique resembled none other on this earth. Or my own earth, for that matter. She's the only person I've ever seen who comes out of meditation with an evil grin on her face.

Not a placid evil grin, either.

Willow, however, didn't particularly know this part, and said, resignedly, "Okay. But I'd like to start learning some real magic soon."

Note to self: If I stay in this universe, redouble efforts to get Giles and Rae and Ms. Calendar and anyone else to make sure she slows down. This time around, it would be nice if ability didn't run laps around maturity and knowledge. "Well," I said, "Instead of that, you can help me. I bow to no one in my mastery of searching online but my hacking skills are strictly limited." Always had been; that's what I'd had Mac around for. "I can come over tonight and we can brainstorm."

"Will you be needing me to hack into anything?" Willow asked eagerly, then, looking up at Giles, said, "Not that I would do that or anything, because it's wrong! And bad!"

The look on Giles' face was the epitome of "Not fooled and don't care," but to keep up appearances he said, "And perhaps if I knew more about what that was, I would be properly offended."

Buffy wasn't fooled, by either Willow or Giles – you could tell by the grin on her face – but all she said was, "And everyone else stays out of the line of fire, right?" Xander and Cordelia likely wouldn't have had parts anyway – except maybe for Xander going on donut runs while Cordelia bitched about all the more interesting things she could be doing, while, you will note, not actually going anywhere – and as for Ms. Calendar, she was actually busy grading tonight, so she wasn't up for helping anyway.

Barring imminent apocalypse status, and we weren't quite there, yet.

"As much as they can, in Sunnydale," I said. "Anyone else have any ideas?"

"Since when were you made leader?" Buffy asked with mock irritation.

"Since the beginning of this meeting, because detective work is my specialty," I said. "I now turn the reins of command back over to you, O fearless leader."

"Smartass," Buffy said.

"You're just now figuring this out?" Willow asked.

The meeting broke up, and, Willow coming with me, we went our separate ways.

Bottom of the ninth, huh?

I got a couple more at bats left in me.