Kennedy was confused and angry. Actually being confused often led to being
angry. She was a slayer, damn it, and she was not used to taking orders.
Alright, back in Sunnydale she'd been under the thumb of insufferable Queen
Bitch Buffy, but she'd been on her own for three years now, fighting off all
sorts of big bad South American evil, thank you very much. She'd been the head
slayer in their little cabal, and while she'd looked toward Willow for some
guidance and support, as far as the Amazon Slayers were concerned, she was the
boss.

Or she had been. Their relationship had crumbled and Kennedy wasn't even sure
why. All of a sudden the support she'd always relied on wasn't their and the
look in Willow's eyes had changed from loving adoration to regret. So she'd
been shipped off, against her will and the very vocal protest of the rest of
the Amazons, to Cleveland to work under Faith and Robin Wood. Oh and it was
definitely under and not with. Buffy had made that abundantly clear at the
sentencing. That's what it felt like, at least. The Scooby Council had been
judge, jury, and executioner for the remains of her relationship with Willow.
Of course Wills shouldn't have to leave South America. She had friends there,
she had a magical support system there, she was the watcher, blah, blah,
blah... What about Kennedy? Didn't she matter too? What about the fact that her
nineteen closest friends and her virtual family for three years were there? What
about the fact that she was the slayer-come-Watcher in charge of all the martial
arts drills and patrols?

Where the Scooby Council was concerned, none of that mattered. She wasn't one
of them and she didn't get a vote. So she'd been dumped into Faith's lap in the
middle of fucking February in Ohio. It wasn't quite as bad under Firecracker
Faith as it was under Queen Bitch Buffy, but it wasn't great. Kennedy was
reduced to being a junior slayer. She hadn't lived through enough, even after
three years with the power, her survival in the final Sunnydale battle, and her
years of training as a Potential. Technically, she'd had as much training as Buffy and maybe even more than Faith. After all, she'd actually had a Watcher
assigned to her as a young girl. She was so much more than the Scoobies saw her
as.

Idly, she wondered if Saint Tara had ever been kept on the outside the way she
was. Too make a long and very painful story short, she was reduced from general
to flunky, a flunky who had to drive 12 hours to Kansas because some newby in
freaking Oxford had had a slayer dream. Faith, to be fair, was very busy with
one of those semi-annual percolations of the Hellmouth and the attempted
ascension of a wicked powerful (Faith's description, not hers) sorceress.

Still this whole mission sucked. To add insult to injury, she was taking orders
from the Katie Couric wannabe in the ridiculously low cut business suit. The
super genius who in the middle of a frelling riot that put that Rodney King
mess to shame still wanted to roam the streets. Trying to help your friend was
one thing, but this was ridiculous. Kennedy was strong and she was an excellent
fighter, but if they ran into a mob of twenty or thirty people, she wouldn't be
able to protect Chloe. Besides, she had a handicap: she wouldn't kill the
rioters. She didn't think the rioters would feel the same way about killing her.

"Hey! Chloe, can you slow down for just a minute?" The petite blond in
front of her stopped and turned around. How the girl could remain two or three
yards ahead of her while wearing what had to be uncomfortable pumps, Kennedy
would never know.

"What?" Her tone was impatient and Kennedy squeezed and unsqueezed a fist
at her side a few times to help her channel her anger. It wouldn't do to save
the damsel in distress and then to beat the ever loving crap out of her.

"We can't stay out here."

"But what about finding my..." Chloe grimaced "…Mr. Luthor?"

"Lionel Luthor? Are you kidding me? That's who we're looking for?" Kennedy
involuntarily shivered. It was embarrassing. She'd faced uber-vamps and
vengeance demons and the end of the world (four times now, take that Buffy),
and the former CEO of LuthorCorp still made her nervous.

She'd never liked the Luthors. Her father owned the controlling interest in one
of the most successful pharmaceutical companies on the east coast. It had made
her family rich. Not a billion or so dollars in the bank and I can buy a small
country rich, but they did own several luxurious houses large enough to support
full time staff. It had made the hiring of Kennedy's private British tutor that
much less conspicuous. The Luthors, thank God, mostly kept to business in the
mid-west, preferring to deal in Gotham, Chicago, and, of course, Metropolis. No
one, however, can ignore the wheeling and dealing of New York City and Boston
completely, especially when that individual seemed to have an intense interest
in biomedical facilities. Around the time of Kennedy's 14th birthday, the
Luthors had started summering in the Hamptons. More accurately, Lionel started trying to convince all of her father's business associates to sell their biomedical and pharmaceutical companies to him.

Lex had only been eighteen at the time. He was still the
talk/entertainment of the parties, much to the embarrassment of his father.
There were actual pools conducted amongst the teens in which people bet on how long it took the perpetually intoxicated Luthor to do several things: take off his pants, vomit, pass out...etc. If you caught him having sex in one of the swimming pools, you made a thousand dollars automatically. Kennedy had won the grand prize and purchased an antique battle ax with her winnings. Who said the Luthors weren't good for something?

In a way, she really should have been thanking Lex for his behavior because it
distracted from her own. She was actually a well-behaved child and teenager,
although she disagreed with her Watcher on how to train, she always
listened to him. That discipline transferred over into her home life and
she was an almost model daughter. Almost model because she'd discovered her
sexual preference early. She wasn't kidding when she told Willow that she'd had
fantasies of sweeping Scarlett O'Hara off her feet when she was five. By
fourteen, she'd started bringin her "friends" home. These early
sleepovers never got to "home run" status, but Kennedy and her girlfriends
usually rounded third base during those early hot and heavy make out sessions.

By sixteen, it was obvious that there was a real bona fide lesbian living in
the heart of repressed rich WASP country. Like that didn't embarrass the hell
out of her parents. Kennedy wasn't ashamed of who she was, but she also didn't
feel that it was anyone else's business but her own who she loved. She didn't
try to broadcast each relationship to her community. They weren't secret; it's
just that Kennedy wasn't quite yet ready to hang a rainbow colored flag over
her house. (The year before arriving in Sunnydale, she'd finally worked
her way up to that point and the flag was still out on her parents' balcony.
Yay for progressive parenting. Now if only they made a slayer pride flag…) In
those early, awkward years, when her parents--through self-denial that
would have made Xander proud---didn't know she was gay, both Lex and his father
had figured it out.

Damn if she knew how. It's not like she saw them more than five or six times a
summer, during overwhelmingly large pool parties and country club gatherings, but
they both knew. Lionel was, as always, more smooth than Lex about it, but he
always managed to make some inference about her sexual preference in front of
her parents:

"Oh Hello Bob. Lovely party, you must congratulate Felice on her fantastic
taste. I see your daughter has grown into quite a beauty. I'm sure she catches
the eyes of all the girls...I mean, makes the other girls jealous, of course." As if anything said with that damn smirk didn't mean exactly what he intended it to mean.

Lex was a lot more crass about it, but considering how coked out he usually
was, the fact that he could get out a coherent sentence was a miracle. Usually he'd make a bunch of lawn mowing jokes. Classy. The one time she had caught him and Muffy St. Claire in the swimming pool (rounding bases Kennedy had never even dreamed of), he'd simply arched an eyebrow and invited Kennedy to join them. He, after all, had no problem just watching.

She really, really hated the Luthors, and now she had to save one. Being a
slayer really sucked lately. Rushing the distance between her and Chloe,
Kennedy grabbed onto the other girl's shoulder. Chloe, still facing forward in
her desperate (and stupid) search for the billionaire actually yiped.

"Jeez, don't do that. I thought you were another mugger."

(Fun euphemism for attempted gang banger) Kennedy thought. "I'm not, but it
could have been. Chloe, this city has ten million people in it. There's no
power, no police officers---not that I'm their biggest fan usually but still---
and we have no idea where to find this guy. He could even be dead."

Chloe bit her lip and spoke carefully. "I don't think he'd be allowed to
die."

"Yeah 'cause rich people have totally bought out the Grim Reaper. Come on,
Chloe, we've been going in circles. We're like half a block from the Daily
Planet offices."

"I know. I know and I wish I could explain everything, but he's important,
really important. Think Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum in Independence Day
important."

"That's the second alien reference you've thrown my way so far tonight. Now
I've heard of that Quellar thing, but come on. You didn't hit your head before I came along, did you?"

"No. It's just…I don't think things went the way they were supposed to and
if they didn't..." Chloe hiccupped and rubbed her eyes. Great, just what
Kennedy needed: a hysterical chick.

"Look, we'll do one more sweep of just the block around the Planet, but then
we have to take shelter. If anything happens to you Faith will kill me and then
I'll be partners with Andrew."

Chloe sniffled but when she spoke her voice was level. "Deal."

Kennedy nodded but sat down instead of going forward. She crossed her legs over
one another Indian style and closed her eyes.

Chloe turned around and huffed at the other girl. "What are you doing? I'm sure the basement of the Daily Planet would be perfect for whatever yoga exercise you have planned."

"Concentrating."

"You can't hear him, can you?"

Kennedy opened one eye and wished she perfected a one-eyed eye roll. "No. God
you ask weird questions and considering my profession that's saying a lot. I'm...it's complicated. I'm trying to sense him, just trying to feel for where something isn't right."

"All of planet Earth coming up as 'not quite right.'"

"Look. I'm helping you here. I could just drag your ungrateful and bossy ass
back to the Planet, which is fine by me because Lionel Luthor is just below Queen Bitch Buffy and my ex-girlfriend on my all-time list of least favorite people."

Chloe blinked. "Ex-girlfriend?"

"Do you not have lesbians in Kansas? Yes, girlfriend. Now if you'll shut the hell up, I might be able to help you out." Kennedy shut her eye again.

"Sorry."

The slayer didn't bother to forgive her. This was the damsel in distress, she really didn't give a damn how the other girl felt. It was the mission that mattered, and the mission was keeping them both in one piece.

Kennedy sat quietly, breathing steadily for several minutes. Chloe glanced around, her fingers white from clutching the metal pipe she'd picked up along the way. The other girl was distracted. If anything came for them, it would all be on the reporter whose work schedule hadn't even allowed her to go to the gym in three months to save them both. Perfect. Chloe frowned as she watched the other girl. "Have you got anything
yet?"

"It's not exactly like a Google search. It takes some time." What Kennedy
didn't add was that she and her slayer sense were rarely on speaking terms.
There were some slayers who had honed their psychic gifts to precision, far
beyond what even the Senior Slayers could do. Using that sixth sense required
concentration, which Kennedy lacked. She'd concentrate for hours
to perfect the latest martial arts move, but all that metaphysical stuff
felt like total bull shit to her, even if she had been dating a goddess for
three years. She could count on one hand, the number of slayer dreams she'd had
since her first Watcher had found her. Of course, she and Chloe were also out of options.

Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the utter devastation and it felt infinite, like people in China and Botswana were as likely to be left in darkness as the citizens of Metropolis. Whatever this was, it was everywhere. Somewhere, deep down, Kennedy felt that this would have been stage one if the First had had its way. Less ubervamps, of course, but the Apocalypse had come and team white hat had been sitting on its ass enjoying coffee and a nice croissant.

In the tatters of Metropolis, Kennedy could feel three different entities. The first felt so bright and strong, like a supernova barely contained. Through her closed eyes, she saw a glittering kaleidescope of green. The shock was enough to make her gasp, "Dawn?" She wasn't sure how she knew the youngest Summers was in Metropolis, but she did. If Dawn were here, then Buffy wouldn't be far behind and she was going to be pissed. Great.

Kennedy shook her head and focused on the second entity. If Dawn was the light,
this was the darknes---utter, complete and cold. She'd never felt anything like
it. The First had come close, but it, despite all its tough guy talk, was
annoyance and not pure evil. It taunted and used your insecurities against you.
This presence was much more like a Turok-khan. It didn't care if you were scared
or had self doubt or wanted a hug. It just wanted you dead. It was carnage
incarnate. "And that would be our Big Bad." Kennedy said more to herself
than to Chloe.

The final presence was confusing as if it were an amalgam of both the light and
the dark. She could feel the evil in it, a cold predatory desire. It was dulled
somehow, as if the predator had voluntarily decided to lie down with its pray.
Lambs and lions and thanks a lot for a Catholic upbringing. The other half felt
as if had been crammed in with the first, as if someone had tried to over pack a
suitcase with both shoes and clothes. It was bursting through, neither presence
like the other and neither ever intended to share space with the other. The two
aspects were fundamentally different but both conveyed a sense of power. The
second half of the presence was light, like Dawn, but muted. It was a twinkling
star to the Key's supernova, but still strong and still stalwart.

Kennedy opened her eyes and gasped; she glared at Chloe. "What the Hell have
you gotten yourself into?"

Chloe began to fidget with the pipe in her right hand. "What do you mean?"

"Something's here. Something that makes what I face in my day-to-day life
look like a five year old in a Halloween costume, and then there's something
else. It's like it's part Lionel Luthor. I get this whole shark vibe from it,
at any rate, which pretty much sums up that asshole, but there's something else involved too. And it's a hell of a lot more powerful than I am."

"Look, I can explain. I swear it." Chloe wheedled. "But I don't feel like it's exactly my place to tell you everything. If you can find Mr. Luthor, then take me to him. If he
wants to go for the full out disclosure, then we can do that too."

"Fine, but I'm not going into battle---and don't play coy with me because as
sure as I'm sitting here that's what's coming----without knowing everything."
Kennedy leapt up and grabbed her favorite dagger from the waistband of her jeans. "And I'm leading from now on. I think I know where he is, but I'm not being
led around by Reporter Barbie anymore."

"Excuse me?"

"Hey if the title fits…" Kennedy shrugged. "Your dye job sucks, by the way."

"Bitch."

"And don't you forget it. Come on," Kennedy said, kicking a small pile of
concrete out of her path. "let's see if Papa Luthor remembers me."