Author: Cyclone
Feedback: Please be gentle.
Distribution: Gimme credit and a link. Plus, archived at http/ or http/ Maybe a little harsh language, certainly some violence, but nothing worse than on BtVS.
Spoilers: Up to Chosen for BtVS and Terra for Teen Titans.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Summary: After delivering his two prisoners to Gotham, Xander takes the opportunity to doff the costume and relax.
Author's Note: You'll be seeing a few more elements from the general DCAU here, rather than the Titansverse.
"'Welcome to Smallville,'" Xander read the sign as he passed it and added, "home of cattle, corn, and Earth's resident Kryptonian."
As he slowed the N-Cycle -- which was now devoid of any exterior markings to connect it with the Titans -- he could feel his stomach complaining.
Better get something to eat.
It was a summer job, and she hated it. To be honest, she'd rather be in Metropolis than waiting tables in a diner in Nowhere, Kansas, but she didn't exactly have much choice in the matter.
At least her shift was almost over.
The door jingled, interrupting her mental litany of complaints, and she looked up and watched the customer as he headed for a table.
Hmm... nice butt.
While he ate, Xander was racking his brain, trying to figure out why the waitress seemed vaguely familiar.
As he finished up the last of his steak -- rare, a legacy of... well, he didn't like to think about that -- the waitress sat down across from him, out of uniform.
"Hi."
"Um... hi?" he blinked.
She smiled, "You're not from around here, are ya?"
"Is it that obvious?" he asked with a wry grin.
"Hardly," she rolled her eyes. "Smallville lives up to its name. Everyone knows everyone around here. So what brings a guy like you to a place like this?"
"Just seeing the sights," he said. "Sort of a road trip thing."
"And you pick Dullsville, Kansas?" she chuckled.
"Hey, there's something to see in every town," he replied defensively.
"I suppose," she allowed. "How about a tour?"
"Sounds great," he smiled. "Xander Harris," held out his hand.
She shook his hand, "Kara Kent."
He froze. So that's why she seems so familiar...
"What?"
He shook his head and recovered, grabbing at the most likely reason he would have reacted like he did, "Umm, sorry. Any relation to Clark Kent? I heard he was from Smallville."
Kara rolled her eyes and let out a disgusted sound, "Yeah, he's my cousin. But let's not talk about him; he's about as boring as watching dry paint."
"Shouldn't that be 'as boring as watching paint dry'?"
"Nope," she shook her head, a mischievous grin on her face. "Watching paint while it's drying is less boring. Once it is dry..."
"Ahh..." he nodded.
"C'mon!" she tugged on his arm, and he followed.
As he headed for the N-Cycle, Kara stared at it, then circled it carefully, examining it from every angle.
"This is a nice bike."
Xander shrugged nonchalantly, "Custom-built by a friend of mine."
He really hoped she didn't try her X-ray vision on it. It'd be a bit tricky to explain some of the... "upgrades."
Xander spent the next few hours being dragged across Smallville by an enthusiastic... Argosian? Would that be the right term? He didn't know.
He was really enjoying himself.
This cannot end well, he concluded.
"So, where're you staying?" Kara asked.
Xander shrugged, "I figure I'll find a motel to crash in."
"No way."
"Huh?"
"The motels around here are some nasty places," she said. She tilted her head, "You can stay with me and Uncle Jon and Aunt Martha."
"But, um..."
"I insist."
I am so doomed.
Kara threw herself on her bed, annoyed at her "aunt" and "uncle."
Good grief, she thought. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself!
Deep down, she understood their position. She had been rather late getting home, and she had neglected to call them... but still.
How many people were strong enough to really hurt her? Just how likely was it that someone carrying a chunk of kryptonite would be in Smallville?
Really.
She didn't need a babysitter. She didn't hunt down trouble like Clark -- unless she was bored -- and she knew when to call in the cavalry.
They didn't have to jump all over Xander like that.
On the other hand, since it was so late, it did keep them from putting him through the griller over dinner. Silver lining and all that.
She blew out a sigh. Maybe they'll be more reasonable in the morning. She liked Xander.
Wait, she frowned. What was that?
Xander would never be able to say what, exactly, it was that woke him. A change in the air pressure, an unfamiliar scent, a creaking floorboard... or just plain luck.
Whatever it was, it saved his life, for the first thing he saw was a scimitar hovering above him.
He rolled off the couch, right into the goon's legs, toppling him over, and leaped to his feet. He looked around. There were three of them.
"Great."
Xander dove for the fireplace and rolled back to his feet, raising the poker just barely quick enough to block the next blow. With a shove, he sent the goon tumbling back over the couch, then turned and parried another blow. Rotating the poker, he yanked, catching the blade in the hook and sending it into the floor. He brought his knee up into the surprised thug's face, sending him falling back.
He swung at the third, who parried and twisted, sending the poker flying.
Xander back-pedaled and grabbed the shotgun from above the fireplace. He leveled it and pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
As the third thug swung, he parried with the gun's barrel, then smashed first the muzzle, then the stock in the goon's face. He spun and rammed the stock into the thug's chest and then up into his chin...
...then shifted his grip to the end of the barrel and swung it at the last one, cracking the wooden stock across his face.
"Xander?" She couldn't believe the way he had taken out all three guys even as both Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan came to a stop behind her, "What's going on down here?"
He turned, "Uh, Kara. Hi."
Kara looked around in amazement, "Who are you? Robin?"
Xander twitched, "No." He shook his head and began tidying up the mess, picking up swords, the poker, and the goons, grumbling, "...compared to Birdboy of all people... ooh, yeah... my day is now complete... mistaken for the Bat's little brat... oughtta put her over my knee..." He suddenly spun and jabbed a finger at Kara, "And don't think I can't! After all the slayers I've had to deal with..."
Kara blinked, "'Slayers'?"
"Teenaged girls with hyped up strength, speed, natural fighting instincts, plus the usual hormones going at full throttle. Then point them at vampires and demons with massive ego complexes."
The Kents swapped Looks.
"Why did you deal with them, then?"
Xander turned and spread his hands, "Because I, Kara, am stupid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to my bike. I'd bet even money these guys weren't alone."
Jonathan picked up the shotgun and inspected the weapon. The stock was still usable for now, but otherwise unsalvageable. Aside from that and a few scratches on the barrel, it was remarkable intact.
"If there are more of them out there, son, wouldn't it be safer to stay in here?"
"Not really," he shook his head. "They got in once, after all. Besides, it's pretty obvious they were after me. Don't want to get you involved if I can help it."
"Who are they, anyway?" Mrs. Kent asked.
Xander looked over at her, "That's what I aim to find out."
Author's Postscript:
Poor guy just can't get a good night's sleep, can he?