Alternate chapter title: Cue the Sun.

X X X X X

I switched off my radio and briefly considered just ripping the damn thing out and throwing it out the car window. Then sanity set in, and I just rolled my eyes. One more way for the universe to pile on, I guess.

Think I'm being arrogant? Think again. The Adversary wouldn't have bothered telling me about any of this if it weren't going to affect me, and my plans, so I had to assume that whatever we did over the weekend to take Spike and Drusilla down, that Echolls' Security Patrol (look at that, I made an acronym) would get involved somehow, and probably not in the "we're going to make things all better" way, because my luck doesn't run that way.

And, unfortunately, if my luck is running bad, then everyone else's will run bad, too. I'll warn them as clearly as I can, but one, I can't be as clear as I'd like (thanks to the terms of the bet, of course), and two, I'm not sure they'll want to back off now, anyway, or even that if they did it would do any good.

Careful, there. Don't want to fall back into the paralysis by analysis trap that almost got me earlier. Stopping the plans now for fear that something might happen would probably be worse than not stopping them –

Shit. Worse for me. It might not be worse for everyone else.

I might not want to fall victim to paralysis by analysis, but I was going to have to give this some more thought.

X X X X X

Sheila, with Rae's permission, was actually going to stick around the magic shop a little longer to study an old not-for-sale spellbook. A quick look at Rae confirmed, for that half a percent of me that hadn't been sure, that no, this was not a book Rae could use to start World War III or summon Beelzebub. (Sheila was unlikely to do the latter, but might do the former if it was really, really funny.)

She asked me to pick her up at around 9 PM, and I agreed and left.

To my surprise, Dad was at home when I got there.

To my bigger surprise, so was Aaron Echolls. Either the cheating wife had been the stupidest cheater ever and had started in on her boyfriend in the motel parking lot, or Dad had been buttonholed by Aaron and hadn't been able to get away yet.

"Honey," Dad said pleasantly, but in such a way that you could tell he'd be gritting his teeth if he could, "Mr. Echolls was just here trying to hire me for his new security force."

Aaron turned to me, and if I didn't have the same look on my face that Dad did, I'm Grover Cleveland. "Really?" I said, forcing a smile onto my face that really, really didn't belong there.

"Yes. And I told him I'd give it some thought."

Grinning, Aaron said, "I really don't know what's to think about, Keith. It's obvious how incompetent the police are around here without you in charge -" and once again I was forced to agree with Aaron Echolls – "And the people I bring in are going to need an experienced local to show them the ropes."

"It would be a big change, Aaron," Dad said. "Give me a couple of days and I'll let you know, okay."

Sounding disappointed, Aaron said, "Okay. Keith. But not too long, okay. Big changes are coming to Sunnydale, and they're long overdue." Then he turned to me and said, "I could use your help, too."

"Huh?" was my witty reply. Oh, this was the last thing I needed.

"Sure!" he said enthusiastically. "I know how much you help Keith with his work, and I know you've got guts. Back during Parent-Teacher night -"

"I have money and a signed contract saying you had the guts that night," I said.

"Oh, that," he said. "Screw that. That was back when I wasn't thinking clearly. I still don't think I did all that bad, but you were the one who got us out of there, not me. You think fast and you know the town."

A brief glance at Dad warned me to keep my answer politic. "I've had even less time to think about it than Dad has. Can I also say I'll get back to you?" I'm proud of myself. I kept the wording civil and my tone? Not once did I imply that I wanted him to go do anatomically impossible things with a garden weasel.

Aaron nodded. "Sure, Veronica, whatever you need." Then he extended a hand to Dad and said, "Keith: I could really use you. I'm going to go see who else I can get involved in this. Have a good evening, folks."

We muttered goodbyes as he shut the door, waited until he was in his car and at the edge of the parking lot, before Dad and I dared to look at each other.

After about fifteen seconds of bemused silence, I said, "Does my face match your face?"

Slowly, Dad nodded his head. "I believe so, if my face looks like I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or pull out my gun."

"That's the one," I said.

"Do you have any idea what's gotten into him? I'd think that if he would have had any kind of epiphany it would have involved the way he treated Lynn, not this."

You would think that, dad, but then, I can't tell you why I think otherwise. Or can I? Phrased right – "Lynn told him she wished he was more like his image," I said. "Maybe this is him trying to do just that."

"You think this is his image?"

"No," I said, "I think he thinks this is his image. He probably doesn't even factor in the parts where he cheated on Lynn with pretty much anything female." After a second, "I'm assuming the answer will be a 'hell no'?"

"A bit more politely put than that, but yes," Dad said. "Aaron was here for a good half hour -"

I doubted there had been much if anything good about it, but I didn't bother going there and just said, "So I'm guessing you haven't made it to the hotel?"

"No, and I need to get their fairly soon if I'm going to have any chance of catching the woman in flagrante," Dad said, putting on his jacket. "Anyway, in that half hour he mentioned that Mayor Wilkins tried everything from bribery to blackmail to get him to focus his attention elsewhere, and I don't think he was lying." On this, I'd say I can pretty much guarantee he wasn't lying, though the blackmail was probably delivered in an offhand, affable manner.

"And we don't want to get caught in the middle."

"Nope." He opened the door.

"Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am -"

"Stuck in the middle with you," Dad sang. "Way it's always been, sweetheart. Stay safe."

And then he left.

I'd make some comment about the universe piling on, but I'm fairly sure you've heard it all before.

God knows I have.

X X X XX

So, to stop, or not to stop.

And could I stop if I wanted to? I can be fairly persuasive when I want to be, though I must admit I don't tend to win arguments on either sheer charisma or devastating logic. Not that I'm incompetent at either, but sophistry? Twisting words and phrases and clauses? That I can be really good at. (I also occasionally manage to convince people through the judicious use of blackmail, but I didn't think I had anyone left to blackmail, having already using my knowledge of Jenny Calendar's past to expose both her and Angel – and everyone already knew about Giles' sordid past with Ethan Rayne.)

I guess I could figure it out if I put some thought into it –

Damn. Once again I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't need to have an elaborate blackmail scheme, if I went in that direction. All I needed was to make a call as everyone's favorite hind-sight inspired master manipulator, Epimetheus.

Of course, even that was assuming that Giles, tired of my lack of success, hadn't engaged someone else magically to figure out who was pulling their strings.

Too many factors to be able to analyze the future clearly. Of course, that was more or less real life for you, whether you had some general idea of what was going to happen, or like 99.5% of the rest of humanity, had no clue. But recognizing this did absolutely nothing towards helping me make this decision.

Hold on. What was it that the Adversary had told me? "There's a distraction coming."

And boy, was I distracted right now, trying to figure out whether to try to postpone the assault on Spike and Dru's place.

Odds were, this was a red herring being dragged across my path, and like an idiot, I was following it rather than sticking to the original trail.

Fortunately, I could find that original trail again just by forgetting about basing any part of my decision on what Aaron Echolls and his bought and paid for private security force might do. Screw them, and screw thinking about them until and unless they actually showed up.

X X X X X

With that decision reached, I was out of things to do for the rest of the night until it came time to gather up Sheila. Yes, Friday night, yes, I'm a high school student (outwardly, if not inwardly), but right now was not the time go "Bronzing it," in the local parlance. I was done with narrowing down the list of addresses and wasn't going to bother doing homework. Little point to studying for a math test on Monday when I wasn't entirely sure I, or this world, would still even be here on Monday.

When my story ends, does this world end? Is the adversary capable of creating a universe, or did he just find some trivially alternate Buffyverse and shoehorn in me and my backstory?

Or did he put into the actual Buffyverse, and somewhere Joss Whedon was thinking he created me and Logan and Don Lamb along with Buffy and Angel and Giles? No offense to Joss, but he didn't create me. He didn't create Sheila, either, or even all of the Buffy I know here. When we watch TV shows, we're visiting alternate universe. Living in them? Another matter entirely. Joss Whedon couldn't have created me, or Sheila, or the complete Buffy, because no onecould have – short of God, and remember, I'm not so sure I believe in Him.

Not a question I can answer, but actually relevant. If it's a preexisting universe then me and mine can be extricated without ending the world, as they know it. If it's not? The Adversary doesn't seem pointlessly cruel (no, his cruelties are pointed as a porcupine quill), but he might think his universe, he can do with it what he wants.

(You also might be wondering why I might doubt the existence of God while dealing directly with someone who can create universes. Remember, though, Anyanka created universes, and D'Hoffryn is a good deal more powerful than she is, and if either the Adversary or D'Hoffryn is God by any definition, then God, per Mark Twain, is a malign thug, and no one I care to worship or believe in.)

I still might argue with him if he decided to summarily end it. Might not be able to convince him, but it would be pretty damn shitty of me not to at least make the effort.

Anyway. Might be hard to distract myself from everything from my difficulties with Logan through the potential end of the universe, but I was going to do my damnedest to try.

Of course, it's 1997 and we don't have cable and I doubt I'd be able to find anything –

Sabrina the Teenage Witch?

No. A bit too on the nose, don't you think?

X X X X X

I read, made myself a snack, played solitaire, and in general managed to keep myself marginally mentally occupied until it came time to pick up Sheila. I couldn't be productive because there was nothing to be productive about.

I hate that, of course, but it won't last long one way or the other.

Sheila was waiting just inside the store, which was otherwise closed. I greeted Sheila and then said, "Rae? You good?"

"I'm following you right out the door," she said.

And she did just that. After seeing her get into her car – instinctive protectiveness, but I liked the woman – Sheila and I got into the LeBaron.

"You get anything good from that book? And what was it about?" I asked.

And the evil grin came out. "'s a way to kill vampires." She help up a hand. "Still ain't gonna go lookin', manhunter. But'd be nice to do it if I had to, without havin' to shove a stake in 'em."

"So . . ." I said, only partly mollified.

"'ll show you when we get out of the car. Don't want to damage the floor." She looked down. "Not that you could tell."

"Hey!" I said. The LeBaron might be aging, but it's not falling apart.

"Hey, yourself. I call 'em like I see 'em."

"Then get some glasses," I said. "By the way, do you mind just heading back to my apartment from here? It's been kind of a long week -" Veronica Mars, queen of understatement – "And I'm really not in a party down kind of mood."

"You ever?" she asked.

True, that. Haven't really been a partying kind of gal since I was raped. In either universe.

X X X XX

We stepped out of the car in front of the apartment complex and looked around. This time of night wasn't exactly when you wanted to be lingering outside, but Sheila promised it would only take a minute or two and that she really didn't want to do this inside. "Don't mind breaking some places, manhunter; yours isn't one of them."

Which had me a little nervous. "Do I need to stand back? A foot, five feet, Sacramento?"

"A little bit. And shade your eyes." She put on a pair of sunglasses I hadn't known she'd been carrying.

My eyes? Why –

Sheila threw a small handful of powder in the air and said, "Inserisca il sole!" And then –

Well, if you know Italian, I don't have to tell you. Otherwise, remember when Willow grabbed that gem in the magic store? The one that made me think people on other planets would start wondering where the new star came from?

Yeah, I wish it had been that dark. I swear, if there had been sound people would have thought there'd been an explosion.

It died down after about ten seconds, but that was more than enough to hear voices from inside cursing and what was going on. Chuckling, Sheila grabbed my arm and started hustling me towards the building. Rubbing spots from my eyes, unsuccessfully, I let her drag me along until we got inside my apartment.

"What the hell was that?" I asked.

"'Real sunlight."

"Huh?"

"Spell lets me borrow a little bit of sunlight. 'swhy I took so long; had to make sure I was takin' just the light and not the heat. Rae looked over the spell for me to be sure. 'snot a witch but she knows the language. This spell's got nothing to do with the heat."

"Maybe you could have told me so I could've stayed further back."

The irritation in my voice sobered Sheila up instantly. "If I'd brought the heat of the Sun here for even a second we would've been ashes by now," she said. "I would never risk you like that. Me, maybe. You, never."

Looking into her eyes, I saw nothing but sincerity. Not that I've always been the best judge of character, but in this case? Sheila was getting the benefit of the doubt.

"Okay," I said. "Just warn me next time."

If there was a next time, of course. That was still entirely in doubt.

But still.