What happens next?

Interlude Two -- Outside a Manhattan Strip Club

Marcie Ross was getting impatient.

It seemed increasing obvious that the two al-Qaeda agents weren't likely to do anything dramatic that night and that there was no point in her sitting inside the smoke-filled strip club just in case they did something after all. So instead she sat outside the club in her car, checking her e-mail on her laptop.

Ooo, she thought. She got an invitation to the Sunnydale High prom. Odd that they chose to send her one. After all, she was no longer officially a student there. Nor did she intend to be one there ever again. She had a new job now that involved working for her country and doing the type of dirty work that goodie-goodies like Michael Westen and Jason Bourne considered themselves too good to do.

Granted, not all her co-workers were bad sorts. John Reese seemed like a decent sort -- although sometimes even he seemed to have too much of a conscience to please Marcie. Noah Bennet had not been all that bad either -- although Marcie was kinda glad he eventually transferred to another agency -- especially after he started bragging about his daughter Claire as if she were some sort of superhero.

Of course, her new job was not always that great. Marcie could not count the number of fellow agents and supervisors who had expected her to go naked just because they saw some fictional invisible woman do it in an old movie. And indeed, since people could not see her anyway, there had been times when Marcie didn't bother to put on clothes before starting out on a mission -- but she didn't want her bosses and co-workers to know that.

Anyway, Marcie had a bit of personal leave coming up. Perhaps she should take advantage of it and go visit Sunnydale for a while. And while she was there, she could thank her old friends Buffy and Cordelia for making her current government job possible.

Now let's see. What would be the best way to thank them? The gun, the knife or the garrote? It was so hard to pick just one...

Oh, well, thought Marcie. I'm sure I'll think of something by the time prom night arrives. You can count on it.