Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks again for the favorites, follows, and reviews. This chapter should answer the question JQN raised, but just to be clear, I'm pretty sure the writers of Highlander 2 had to have been on some kind of drugs to have come up with that ridiculous explanation for immortals. In my story, the lore is more or less canon to the television series (though I've worked in my own personal headcanon that alcohol doesn't really affect immortals the same way as mortals because of the healing factor). As for crossovers with the other CW DCTV shows, it won't happen in part 1, but I haven't ruled it out for part 2 (which is what I'm currently writing). Anyway...on with the next chapter!


A short drive later, the trio arrived at what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Their new 'friend' led them up a staircase along one side, into an office-like space that had apparently been converted into living quarters. It reminded her a bit of Kara's loft, but less homey. And open on one side, overlooking a rather sparse lower level. Josephine shrugged off her coat, tossing it into the garbage before laying her sword on a nearby counter. She grabbed a bottle of booze from what appeared to be a good-sized collection, along with three glasses, then plopped down on one of the two couches in the living room area. Alex and Vasquez took the other one across from her, watching as she set the glasses on the coffee table between them. "Straight-up okay?"

Alex shrugged. "Fine by me."

"Got any beer?" Vasquez asked.

Josephine shook her head, gesturing to what Alex presumed was the kitchen. "You can check the fridge. Might be one or two in there. Don't really keep it around because it doesn't do much for me." Nodding, Vasquez got up to go check. In the meantime, Josephine poured Alex and herself each a glass of the amber liquid, setting the bottle to one side as she pushed one glass over to the agent. Alex took a sip and ended up coughing a little. This alcohol actually had a pretty good kick to it. "Like I said," Josephine grinned, taking a sip from her own glass. "Best rum this side of New Orleans. Bit higher-proof than what they sell to the tourists, but…well…let's just say I have connections."

"Good to know," Alex muttered, taking another sip. Now that she knew what to expect, the rum went down more smoothly. "Interesting setup you have here."

Their host shrugged. "I own the building. Seemed a shame to let it just sit here empty, and it beats paying what they charge for rent out here. I honestly don't know how you people manage it."

"I do alright."

"Of course. I meant no offense." Josephine sat back, taking another drink. "You know…it occurs to me that I never got your name."

"What's it to you?" Alex shot back a bit defensively.

"Well, assuming you and your friend don't go running out of here screaming, you and I will probably be spending a bit of time together going forward. Figure we should get to know each other."

Alex frowned, setting her glass back on the table just as Vasquez rejoined them, beer in hand. "You make a lot of assumptions."

"I have a bit of experience in this area." She shook her head, setting her own glass back down and holding out her hand. "Josephine Trudeau. My friends call me Jo."

"Alright," Alex nodded, shaking the offered hand. "Alex Danvers. My friend here is Sue Vasquez."

"Nice to meet you." Jo shook Vasquez's hand as well before sitting back and reclaiming her drink. "Just out of curiosity, is there a reason both of you are carrying guns?"

The agents shared a look, and Alex sighed. "If I tell you, you can't go spreading it around."

"You aren't the only ones who can keep a secret. Lay it on me."

Alex paused for a moment. Normally, she wouldn't risk her career by talking about it with outsiders, but something was telling her that she should make an exception this time. A gesture of trust, as it were. If she wanted to know Jo's secrets, sharing a few of her own would probably make the process go more smoothly. She sighed again. "We work for a covert government agency tasked with handling extraterrestrial activity."

Jo let out a low whistle. "Extraterrestrials, huh? Like Supergirl?"

"She works with us."

"Fuckin' A," Jo grinned. "I really lucked out. Any chance I could score an introduction?"

Alex frowned. "Depends on what you have to say. Why are you so interested?"

"Supergirl is what inspired me to move here in the first place. Could've used someone like her back in my day."

"Your day?" Alex snorted. "Like what…the 90s?"

"We'll get to that. So, are you guys like Mulder and Scully? Or more like Men in Black?"

The elder Danvers shrugged, reclaiming her own glass and taking another drink. Though the rum was pretty potent, she was only feeling the sort of buzz that beer used to give her. "Everyone at the agency – with one or two exceptions – is trained in field work and goes out as needed. Beyond that, we all have our specialties. Sue's a computer analyst, and I'm a scientist. Bioengineer, specifically. And that's about all I can give you right now."

"Fair enough." Jo drained the last of her drink, then set the glass back down on the table and poured herself some more. "I guess we should just get to it, then. Hope you two don't need to be anywhere anytime soon."

Alex shook her head. "Already texted everyone who needed to know where we were. Don't worry, I didn't give details…just that we were going to be out pretty late and not to wait up." She downed the rest of her own drink and set the glass down; their new 'friend' refilled it without even having to be asked. "So, what's this big secret you had to drag us all the way out here to talk about?"

"Been awhile since I've done this, so I might be a bit rusty." Jo sighed, taking another drink. "You guys said you're used to the weird, so just hear me out and try to keep an open mind, okay?" Alex and Vasquez both nodded. "To start with, I'm a lot older than I look."

"You're what…30?"

"20, technically. Life was just a lot fucking harder when I was growing up. The 1840s and 50s, to be exact."

Both agents' jaws dropped. "You can't fucking be serious," Alex muttered.

"To be fair," Vasquez chimed in, "we do know a Martian who's over 300."

"But he's not human." Alex turned to Jo. "You are, right?"

"Last I checked," Jo shrugged. "Just with a longer lifeline."

"And how is that even possible?"

The apparently much-older woman sighed, setting her glass back down and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees and clasping her hands together. "When I first learned about this shit, the guy who filled me in gave me this whole spiel about how we've been around since the dawn of time and how our longevity was 'a kind of magic.' But you're a scientist, so I'll spare you the bullshit. Here's how it works, best I can figure. Certain people are born with something – not sure what you'd call it – inside them that lays dormant for the most part. Whatever it is, it's activated if the person who has it meets a violent or otherwise unnatural end. Activating it renders that person effectively immortal. They won't age, or get sick. Most injuries – even fatal ones – will heal quickly. The only exception being if that person loses their head. No coming back from that one."

Alex nodded, letting her mind digest the information. As an agent of the DEO, the idea of certain abilities lying dormant within a person until certain conditions were met was something she was familiar with. Granted, it didn't usually happen with ordinary humans, but she did promise to keep an open mind. "So, I take it this happened with you? If I have my history correct, it would've been during the Civil War, right?

"Yeah." Jo left the couch for a moment, returning with what looked like a picture frame. "I grew up on a plantation just outside New Orleans. No idea who my parents were. Master supposedly found me abandoned in a field one day. Of course, the way I hear it all immortals start out as foundlings, so…." She shook her head. "Closest to family I ever had was the wet nurse who helped raise me…her and her husband. Master wasn't too bad, as far as those things went. And I was luckier than most. I mean, I still got my ass whooped quite a few times and have the fucking scars to prove it. But it could've been worse. A lot of slaves were forced to breed, as if we were fucking livestock, but once Master's doctor figured out I couldn't have kids I was left alone. As long as I did my work, they didn't really pay much attention to what else I got into. Which was good, because I'd always known I was a bit different. There was no word for it back then – no good ones, anyway – but I was more interested in women than men. Master didn't really care if I fooled around with other slaves, as long as I didn't interfere with that whole fucking breeding deal. However, it turned out that he did care when I got caught with one of his precious daughters." She laughed. "Bitch tried to say I'd seduced her, but it was the other way around. And even if it wasn't…well…let's just say she didn't need that much fucking persuasion. Anyway…his men made the mistake of leaving me alone while trying to decide how to punish my indiscretion. I took the opportunity to run, and managed to make my way North. That was 1860. I disguised myself as a boy and took odd jobs wherever I could find them. The disguise was partly so I could get decent work, since the only jobs for free black women in those days were domestic or whore – neither of which appealed – and partly so I could be myself. Three years later, I was in Massachusetts when the call went out for recruits for the first-ever all-black company."

"The 54th Massachusetts," Alex nodded. "I saw the movie."

Jo rolled her eyes. "I could spend all fucking night getting into how inaccurate that thing was. Only reason to even watch is Denzel." Alex's eyebrow shot up, and she chuckled. "I may not be interested in men in that way, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a fine-looking man when I see one." She shook her head. "Anyway…I signed right on up, eager to do my part to end all of that slavery bullshit. It wasn't all that hard to pass back then. All they really cared about was whether you had all of your teeth and a decent trigger finger." As she spoke, Jo handed Alex the picture, which was a daguerreotype of her in a Union infantry uniform with stripes indicating that she'd been a Corporal. "Made it all the way to Fort Wagner before those Confederate fuckers managed to finish me off. Woke up in fucking ditch with a Confederate officer standing over me and a massive fucking headache. He told me I was immortal, taught me how to use a sword, and then tried to take my fucking head once he figured I'd learned enough to give him a decent fight. Obviously, he taught me a bit too well."

"Why the fuck would he do that?" Alex asked, setting the picture down as she reclaimed her glass and took another drink.

"I don't know how this even fucking started, but all immortals are forced to participate in some dumb-ass 'game' where the last one surviving gets some mysterious prize. Most of the time, I try my best to avoid it, but sometimes I don't have a choice. Only way to stay out altogether is to live on some form of Holy Ground, since fighting there is against the rules, but I like this world too fucking much to hide myself away."

"That's the dumbest fucking thing I ever heard," Alex muttered. "You have the potential to witness all of fucking history and you waste time whacking each other's heads off?"

"No argument here," Jo shrugged, knocking back a healthy swig of her own drink.

"So, what does it have to do with me? I mean, I'm assuming you didn't drag us here just so you could tell your life story."

Jo sighed, setting her glass back down. "You're a scientist, Alex. Think about everything I told you. Does any of it sound familiar?"

Alex shook her head, idly twisting her own glass in her hands as she mentally went over the immortal's story. Admittedly, a few parts did seem to resonate in her own life. She'd known as far back as she could remember that the Danvers' had adopted her as a baby, unable to have children of their own. The only difference between her and Kara was that she'd known no other parents, whereas her sister had spent the first 13 years of her life on an entirely different planet and had needed time to adjust to having a whole new family. And she'd found out a few years ago, after a cancer scare (which she'd never mentioned to Kara, since it turned out to have been a false alarm) that she was unable to have children herself. The headache she'd suddenly developed upon meeting Jo seemed familiar as well, as did the apparently increased alcohol tolerance they both seemed to have. But one major element appeared to be missing. "You're right," she finally nodded, setting her glass back on the table. "We do have a few things in common. But I've never died."

"Are you sure? Have you walked away from anything recently that, by all rights, you shouldn't have?"

"Yesterday," Vasquez interjected, draining the last of her beer and setting the bottle aside. "That big alien threw you into the wall of that canyon, and I'm pretty sure my coms picked up Supergirl saying that she'd heard your heart stop for several minutes. J'onn probably heard it too…guessing our Kryptonian friend forgot that her coms were on at that point."

As her fellow agent spoke, everything finally clicked into place. Alex groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "I'm a fucking idiot," she muttered. "I was just so happy to not be hurt that I didn't even think to question how it was possible."

Jo shrugged. "On the upside, since no one but us knows you actually died, you won't have to walk away from your life."

"No…I'll just have to learn how to chop people's heads off. Kara's going to hate this."

"Kara?"

"Her sister," Vasquez explained.

Jo shook her head. "I'm sorry, but this can't go beyond the three of us. Not yet, anyway. Maybe after you've adjusted you can widen the circle a bit, but you definitely can't tell the people you work for. Not about yourself, and especially not about me. It's sort of an unwritten rule that we don't go around 'outing' each other to mortals. One of the few that everyone follows without fail. So even if you do eventually tell your sister and your friends the truth, don't bring me into it unless I give the okay. No fucking way I'm letting your co-workers turn me into a lab rat."

The agents looked at each other, a little worried. Keeping it from most of the agency wouldn't be an issue, but how do you hide such a huge secret from a telepath? Deciding not to discuss the issue in front of Jo, Alex turned back to the woman she supposed was her mentor now. "So this whole head-chopping thing…was that what you thought was going on outside the fucking bar earlier?"

"Sorry about that. It's just…running into an immortal at that bar, and then watching you go outside as soon as I came in…I just assumed you knew the deal already. It never occurred to me that you might be new. I might have a few trust issues," she added with a slight shrug, taking another drink.

Alex frowned. "What's so fucking special about that bar, other than my friend's uncle owning it?"

"Bars owned by Joe Dawson – wherever they are – tend to be hotspots for immortals and certain mortal busybodies who like to follow us around and record what we do. I'll explain that one later."

"Whatever," the newly immortal agent muttered. "So, does the headache have something to do with all of this?"

Jo nodded. "It's sort of an early-warning system. You'll feel it whenever another of our kind is near, though once you're used to it, it won't be nearly as bad. More like a dull buzzing in the back of your brain."

"So, that's the signal to get ready for a fight?"

"Sometimes. But not all immortals will be out to get you. Many of us just want to live our lives. I actually have a few friends among our kind. Duncan MacLeod, for instance. I know the name doesn't mean anything to you right now, but Mac is quite famous in immortal circles. A living legend. And he's the one who picked up where my first so-called teacher left off and showed me how to make the most of being what we are. He's pretty tight with Joe, so you'll probably meet him eventually."

"Sounds fun," Alex grumbled unenthusiastically. Right now, she was more concerned about how to deal with the fact that she apparently now had an eternity stretched out in front of her, so long as no psychopath came around looking for her head. The whole idea was insane, but there was no other logical explanation for what had happened the previous day if Kara was indeed correct about her heart having stopped. Not to mention her body's reaction to meeting someone who did appear to be immortal. "So, what happens now?"

"You need to learn how to use a sword, for one."

"I've been trained in a variety of weapons, including swords."

"But not to go against someone who's had centuries to perfect their technique and will be looking to end you."

"Right," the agent muttered. She reached for her glass, only to fumble it and send it crashing to the floor. "Shit…" Alex instinctively moved to pick up the pieces and wound up cutting her hand on one of the larger shards. "Fucking hell," she hissed, dropping the shard and lifting her hand up to inspect the damage. As she watched, tiny sparks of electricity danced across the wound, sealing it. Within seconds it was as though she'd never even been hurt, which seemed to confirm everything Jo had been saying. "What the fuck…?" She looked at the older woman expectantly.

"It's called the Quickening," the immortal explained. "Best I can tell, the Quickening is like our life force….the thing that lays dormant inside us until our first death. It collects our memories and heals our injuries, keeping us alive long after we should have perished. And when we take the head of another immortal, their Quickening flows into us and merges with our own, which I'm reasonably certain is where the whole idea of the so-called 'game' came from. The more you take, the more powerful you become, or so they say. I've never really felt it, and I've taken my fair share of heads – all from jackasses who thought I was an easy fucking target. Most immortals I've met don't really give a shit about the power, but there are those that do, and they seek out as many Quickenings as they can get. Headhunters, we call them. I know the idea of training probably sounds like the opposite of fun but, if nothing else, you need to learn to protect yourself from those guys."

"Of course…" Alex got up and went to the window, needing some space. This was all getting to be too much. The immortal part, she could deal with, crazy as it seemed. 'Not that I really have a fucking choice in the matter,' she thought, staring at her recently-healed hand. But finding out that whatever made her that way also put a target on her back…. She sighed, turning back to Jo. "How the fuck do you deal with all of that?"

"By not letting it consume me. Like I said, I have trust issues, and it's hard not to be a bit jumpy around immortals I don't know. But the best way I've found to deal with this stupid fucking 'game' is to just train, make sure I'm as prepared as I can be, and then live my life. If someone wants a fight, I give it to them. What I don't do – most of the time, anyway – is go looking for fights, nor do I spend all my time looking over my shoulder. That'll just drive you nuts, and keep you from all the amazing things that being immortal allows you to do."

"Like what?" Alex snorted. "Watching everyone I care about grow old and die?" Maybe not everyone, considering J'onn's longevity and what the AI had apparently confirmed about Kara and Clark, but there was still the rest of her family and friends to think about.

"Yeah, that part sucks, but get too bogged down by it and you'll end up all broody like Mac. What I'm talking about is being able to see and experience things mortals can only dream of. All of history, as you said earlier. In 150 years, I've seen my people go from nothing more than property to holding the highest office in the land. An office currently occupied by a woman who would've been jailed less than a century ago just for trying to vote. I've gone from having to hide my lovers like a dirty secret to being able to actually marry them if I choose. 60 years ago, a computer would've taken up the whole bottom floor of this warehouse. Now it can fit in the palm of your hand. You can talk to people on the other side of the globe in an instant, instead of having to wait months or even years for a response. And now we have an honest-to-God alien flying around the city like a gorgeous guardian angel – something that would've been dismissed as a crackpot's delusion just a few decades ago."

Rolling her eyes a bit at Jo's obvious crush on her sister, Alex nodded. "Can't really argue with that. But if you had a choice, would you go back to being mortal?"

"Nope. Dumb-ass 'game' aside, it's the best thing that's ever happened to me." Jo shook her head, filling the glass she'd gotten for Vasquez and sliding it over to Alex's spot. "Now…if we're going to get you through this, you'll need to put in some serious training time. I converted the first floor of this warehouse into a gym so I'd have a place to practice without drawing attention to myself. Figure we should spend at least a few hours a day down there."

With a sigh, Alex reclaimed her seat and downed half the glass Jo had just poured. "As…fun…as that all sounds, it'll be a lot fucking easier said than done. The DEO isn't exactly a 9-5 gig."

"Then we'll just have to work around it. Do you exercise in the mornings before going in?"

"I try to," the elder Danvers shrugged. "Why?"

"Figure it's the easiest part of your routine to change up. Just start coming here instead of wherever you normally work out."

"Possible, but it'd be a little hard to explain to my sister. She goes with me on the mornings when I can actually drag her out of bed at that hour." Not that Kara actually worked out when she did go. Just hung around and made comments about how weirdly obsessed humans were with physical fitness.

"You could just tell her she can't come anymore."

Alex shook her head. "That would be like kicking a puppy. Trust me." She sighed, taking another drink. As she did, a thought occurred to her – though it could've just been the alcohol finally having an effect. She looked at Vasquez. "Need a quick word," she told the junior agent, tipping her head towards the corner farthest from the couch. Alex immediately went over to said corner, joined by her fellow agent just a moment later.

"What are you thinking, Ma'am?"

"First, let's drop the Ma'am unless we're at work. Considering that you've been let in on a gigantic secret, I think we can use each other's first names."

"Of course, Ma—Alex."

"Thanks, Sue," Alex nodded. "Now, I'd like to get your honest opinion on something. What do you think about recruiting our new friend over there to the DEO?"

Vasquez frowned. "Not that I'm questioning your judgment, but why?"

"One, she's already got the combat training – probably more than the rest of us humans combined. Two, she's used to the weird stuff. And three, it would give us an excuse for the sword practice that I apparently need now."

"Sounds like you've already made up your mind. What do you need from me?"

Alex sighed. "I'm concerned about J'onn. While I'm positive he wouldn't turn Jo or myself into lab rats if he found out, I have no idea what he would do."

"I doubt it would be anything bad."

"Maybe not in the strictest sense, but I'm worried he might pull me off of field work, or get involved where he shouldn't while trying to protect me. And keeping this kind of secret from a telepath is going to be next to fucking impossible. Do you have any thoughts on how we might do that, or should I just drop this idea and drag myself out here every morning that I can avoid Kara following me?"

Nodding, Vasquez reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, flesh-colored device that looked like it should fit inside one's ear. "A few of us have actually been working on that issue since J'onn was reinstated. Don't get me wrong…we have nothing against him. He's definitely the best Director we've had. But the possibility that he could get into our heads and pull out our private thoughts isn't something we're comfortable with."

"J'onn wouldn't do that."

"I know. But I'd still like to keep my thoughts to myself. We came up with something similar to what we used to block Jemm, only more discrete and tailored to J'onn's form of telepathy – based on what we know about it, anyway."

Alex nodded. "Have you tested them?"

"Sort of. I've been wearing mine around the office, but I haven't spent enough time around J'onn to be sure whether or not it actually works. But I don't think you or Ms. Trudeau will need them. If this 'Quickening' thing is electrically-based, it might be enough to create a natural barrier to J'onn's telepathy."

"How would you know that?" Alex frowned. "No offense, but you're not a bioengineer."

"No, but we've been reading up on various forms of telepathy and means of blocking them while working on the device. If the theories are correct, the two of you should be safe, and I'll just minimize my contact with J'onn until I can be sure the device actually works."

"Sounds like a plan." Decision made, Alex went back over to where Jo was apparently finishing off the rum. "Got a proposition for you…."

TBC (And yes, I did slightly retcon Alex's origins for the purposes of this story. Then again, it's just assumed that she's the Danvers' biological child, but - given what we know about her parents - I doubt they'd have treated her any differently if the had adopted her as a baby. Make of that what you will. Anyway...see you Friday!)