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Summary: Buffy's father isn't what you might call a local boy. He's not illegal, but he's definitely an alien.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > Justice LeagueThePunisherFR15621,0061919039,2127 Dec 0916 Aug 10No

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Okay, this is the part where I say I don't own anything, right? Consider it said. BTVS belongs to the lovely man known as Joss Whedon, and Justice League belongs to the fine folks over at Warner Brothers. I feel confident in saying that, since they have their logo plastered across the beginning of every episode.

Spoilers: Post season 1 for Buffy. As far as Justice League goes... I'll get back to you on the details. Nothing really relevant to that continuity in this chapter.

AN: First published story, though I've been practicing for who-knows-how-long. Be gentle.

Chapter 1

Joyce Summers let out a heavy sigh. There was definitely something going on with her daughter. It had been ever since the divorce. Joyce had known it, and had been holding onto the hope that it might resolve itself, but…

Buffy had been even more distant than usual lately, ever since the night of her prom. She’d gotten some kind of injury on her neck, though Joyce wasn’t sure if that had been the center of her problem. All the same, she was certain that something had happened to her daughter, even if Buffy wasn’t talking about it. Joyce also knew, much to her personal grief, that she wouldn’t be able to help Buffy with this. So, she was going to send her to someone who could.

She knocked lightly on her daughter’s door. “Buffy? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” was the muffled reply.

Joyce opened the door quietly, and went into Buffy's room. She sat down next to the younger woman, and took a deep breath. “So… how’s school?”

“Fine,” Buffy said quietly. “Last day in a couple of days. Thought I could go visit Dad, get away from it all for a while.”

Joyce took another breath. “Actually… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Buffy gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Joyce shifted uncomfortably. “Okay. When I was in college, before I met your father, I briefly dated a man named Clark. Oh, he was gorgeous. Thick black hair, beautiful blue eyes… Anyway, he was in his last year when I was a freshman, so when he left to go travel the world, we parted on good terms. It was only a few days later that…” she scratched the back of her head uncomfortably.

Buffy snorted. “Come on, Mom. How bad can it be? Oh, no, let me guess. He’s my dad, right?” She chuckled, then noticed the pained look on Joyce’s face. Her eyes widened. “Holy sh—”

“Watch your language,” Joyce said quickly. She sighed. “I met Hank not too long after you were born. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that I had a baby already, which was one of the reasons I decided to marry him.”

Buffy sat, open-mouthed. Of all the things she’d expected when her mother had come to her room… this hadn’t been on the list.

“Anyway, back to my point.” Joyce ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you lately. I’m pretty sure that you were hurt, either emotionally or physically, but that’s pretty much where my knowledge ends. I thought it might be helpful for you to visit Clark for a little while. You might find… whatever it is you need.”

Buffy blinked in surprise. “You know where he is?”

At this, an uncharacteristic smirk spread over Joyce’s face. “Oh… yeah. His name is pretty famous.”

Buffy frowned. “How famous can he be? I mean, really?”

Joyce’s grin widened. “Well, you know how we get the Daily Planet every day?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. You like that writing duo, Lane and Kent.” She paused. “Oh.”

Joyce nodded.

“Clark Kent?”

Another nod.

“Huh.” Buffy smiled, slightly. “Cool.”


Clark Kent was, putting it mildly, a nervous wreck. He’d gotten a call from an old girlfriend, Joyce Harmon (Summers, Kent. Her name is Summers), who had laid one heckuva bomb on his lap.

He had a daughter.

Ignoring the fact that, according to all his research, Kryptonians could only breed with humans under laboratory conditions, and ignoring the fact that he’d been careless enough to sleep with a woman without being safe (Ma’s gonna kill me for that), he had a daughter! Was she showing signs of his powers? Did she live in an area that didn’t have a regular Super to protect it? According to Joyce, they were in a small town about two hours outside of LA, which would make the nearest hero Kid Flash. That thought made Clark pinch his nose. Kid Flash? He acted more off-the-wall than the regular Flash. Perfect.

Once his concerns over Buffy's safety had gone through his mind, other thoughts surfaced. What was she like? Was she nice? Well, his memories of Joyce were positive ones, but she had married someone named Hank Summers (DOWN, green-eyed monster!), who had actually raised Buffy until last year, when they’d gotten divorced. How was Buffy coping with that? Had he raised her to be spoiled? From what Joyce had said, Hank was fairly well off, so it was possible. Why was Joyce sending Buffy out to Metropolis? Was something wrong with her? Or with Joyce? Had one of them had an accident? Or maybe—

“Kent! Helloooo! Hey, are you in there?!”

Clark snapped back to reality. Lois was looking at him, a mixture of concern and annoyance on her face. It was an expression he’d only ever seen her pull off.

“Finally,” she groused. “What happened? Someone drop a house on you?”

“Uh…” he blinked. “I… just got a call.”

“Who? A source?” Lois’ reporter instincts came to the fore. “What is it? Intergang? Is Luthor making a comeback? What?”

He waved that off quickly. “No, no. Nothing like that. It was, um… an old girlfriend of mine, from college. She was an art major. Joyce Harmon.”

Lois nodded slowly. “Okay… and this has you out of whack, why?”

He leaned forward on his desk, resting his chin on his hands. “She called to tell me that…” he paused, as if trying to work up his nerve.

Lois waited silently. For all of two seconds. “Come on, Clark! Spit it out!”

He did so. “I have a daughter.”

Lois froze. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, and snapped shut. Finally, she burst out laughing.

He shot her a mild glare. Mild, meaning he chose not to use his heat-vision. “Thanks for your support, Lois. Words can’t define my gratitude.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” she wiped mirthful tears from her eyes. “You, Clark Kent, the biggest Boy Scout I’ve ever met, have an illegitimate daughter? That’s the best Cosmic Joke I’ve heard in years! That’s like hearing that Batman’s son is a clown!”

As that particular image hit Clark’s brain, he had no choice but to join in her laughter. “Okay, so it’s funny.” He sobered again. “Still… do you realize that she’s sixteen? Has been since January? I mean… Sixteen. I’ve missed all the best parts of her childhood.” He sighed. “That’s… that’s not funny.”

Lois put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s not as if you knew. If you had, I have no doubt you’d have been a great dad. I’ve met your dad, after all, and he didn’t screw up too badly, so you’ve got a good example to go by.”

Clark smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Lois.”

She nodded. “No problem. Never let it be said that I’m not a nice person, when the occasion calls for it.” She sat at her desk. “So, can I assume she’s coming out for a visit?”

Clark nodded. “Yeah. Her plane will be coming in first thing in the morning. Oh, and if you make fun of her name, I’ll make sure you never see a hot cup of coffee, or a sprinkled donut in this office for as long as you live.”

Lois put her hands up in surrender. “I get it. What’s the name, that it can be mocked so easily?”

He grimaced. “Buffy.”

Lois blinked. “Seriously?”



“I’m afraid so.”

Lois took a breath. “How long is she going to be staying?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “She just got out of her sophomore year, so maybe the whole summer, I hope.”

“Great… Well, I suppose I’ll have to make it that long.”

He smiled. “Thanks again, Lois.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fabulous. Now go get me a donut.”


Buffy stepped into the airport, heading straight for the luggage pick-up. Her best clothes, not to mention her favorite broadsword (gotta love glamour charms), had been packed in there, and she didn’t want to lose any of it. Luggage in hand, she headed outside. Almost instantly, she spotted a broad-shouldered man, holding up a sign with her name on it. She walked up to him. “Um… Mr. Kent?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, clearly as nervous as she was. “Buffy?”

She nodded in return. “Yeah. Hi.” She held out her hand.

“Hi.” He shook it, and was pleasantly surprised at the strength of her grip. Not superhuman, exactly, but not weak, either. “You can call me Clark, by the way. It’s, um… It’s only fair, I guess.”

She giggled, feeling a bit relieved. “Clark. I can do that.” She looked around. “You have a car?”

“Yeah, over here.” He led her to the parking area, and subsequently to his truck. It was a pick-up, made sometime in the late fifties or early sixties. It was weather worn, but otherwise looked in good condition.

“This is yours?” she asked.

“Yeah. Present from my dad when I went to college.” He lifted her bags into the bed. “I don’t use it all that much. I live pretty close to the Planet, so I usually just walk.”

“Oh.” She climbed in. “I’m guessing… farm?”

He got into the driver’s seat. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged. “Just seemed to fit. You look like a farmboy. Which isn’t a bad thing,” she added quickly. “You just look like one.”

He smiled at her. “Well, as it happens, you’re right. Ma and Pa still run the farm, in Smallville.”

She nodded. “Cool.” They pulled out. “What kind of farm? Like, cornfields, cabbages, cows, horses?”

“All of the above,” Clark said. “And Ma likes to grow sweet potatoes. Pa has this gift with tomatoes that makes them bigger than my fist.” He held up his hand, demonstrating. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“Any sheep?” Buffy asked, a gleam in her eye.

Clark snorted. “Nothing like that, thank you. And please don’t make jokes like that around my parents. You’ll be in for an hour-long speech about how only sick-minded people even think about things like that. I’ve heard it once, and it was enough.”

“Duly noted,” Buffy said, nodding. “No bestiality jokes around the grandparents. I can do that. I’ve had plenty of practice with Oma and Opa.”

“Joyce’s side?”

“Yeah. Dad, er… Hank’s parents died before I was born.”

Clark gave her a sidelong glance. “You can call him your dad. He was around for that.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I’ve been trying to break the habit of calling him ‘dad’ for months. He’s been ditching me a lot lately for his new-model girlfriend. You’re just a good reason to do it.”

“Oh.” Clark didn’t like that. Not one bit. Even if she was only his foster or adopted daughter, Hank shouldn’t have treated Buffy that way.

“Oh, you know something funny? Turns out, I was never technically adopted by Hank, so my name is legally Harmon. Who knew?”

“Did you have to get your license changed?”

She snorted. Clark noted idly that it sounded a lot like his mother when she was annoyed. “No. Mom won’t let me get one. She doesn’t like me being in ‘danger’.” She used air quotes here. “I mean, jeez. Compared to nuts like Joker and Solomon Grundy running around, how dangerous can driving be?” She sighed. “But, anyway, I got my State ID changed. Mom didn’t mind. She only kept the name because of me and my sister, Dawn.”

“Sister, huh?” Clark looked interested at this. “How old?”

“Just turned eleven,” Buffy said. “Bratty as all get out, but…”

“She’s still your sister.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah.”

With an understanding nod, he said, “We’re here.” He pulled into a parking garage. “My apartment is in the building next door. I’ve got a pull-out couch, so you should be comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Buffy's voice was a bit subdued. She got out of the car, grabbing her bags from the back.

Clark led her to a convenient walkway that led to his building, and up the elevator. His apartment proved to be smallish, but Buffy could live with that, at least for the moment. She sat her bags on the couch, and sighed. “You don’t have any coffee, do you?”

“I will in a minute,” Clark said, flipping the coffee machine on. It was a Lexcorp model and, as much as he hated to admit it, it made an excellent pot. You could load grounds into it for as much as a week in advance, connect it to the sink, and just let it work. For all of Luthor’s madness, he was a decent engineer. “How do you take it?”

“Milk and three sugars.”

Clark couldn’t help a small grin. That was how he liked coffee. He walked out with two steaming cups. “Here. It’s a little hot…” she drained the cup in seconds. “Of course, you could always just do that.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Heh. I didn’t have time for any this morning, and the stuff on the plane was questionable. I needed my caffeine.”

“Now that, I understand.” He sipped at his own drink. “So… what now?”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t quite ten. “Do you have to work?”

“Not today,” he said. “Perry gave me the day off, considering the circumstances.”

Buffy frowned. “You mean finding out you’re a deadbeat dad?” She winced at her wording. “Sorry, bad turn of phrase. I’m just saying, it doesn’t seem like much.”

He chuckled good-naturedly. “Believe me, if you knew Perry, you’d know that it’s amazing I got that much. I half-expected to have to drag you along for the day.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t really have minded. You’re a reporter. Sounds kinda fun.”

“It has its moments,” he acknowledged. “ I remember this one time, Lois almost got eaten by a mechanical dinosaur…”


Clark and Buffy sat for hours, discussing his many adventures as an intrepid reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper (her words). After a while, he realized that he had to go out for a quick patrol. He made a flimsy excuse, which she seemed to buy for some reason, and left.

Meanwhile, Buffy pulled her sword from her bag. She hadn’t really been listening when Clark left, she was just glad that she hadn’t had to come up with a lame story. She climbed out the window, scaling the building expertly. It was times like this she really enjoyed being a Slayer. Sword and stake in hand, she went looking for a few vampires.


Superman flew over the Metropolis skyline, his exceptional eyes and ears open for any signs of trouble. It had been a slow night, which suited him just fine. He wasn’t like Batman, who assumed that if they weren’t making trouble where he could see it, they were making trouble behind his back. Of course, Batman usually turned out to be right, but that was beside the point.


Superman’s ears perked up. That sounded like a sword.

CLANG! “Hah!”

Yep, definitely a sword. Was Shining Knight in town? Maybe Buffy would enjoy meeting Winged Victory…

“OW! Bitch! I’m gonna rip your throat out!”

Superman rolled his eyes as he flew closer. How cliché…

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.”

Superman stopped, very abruptly, as the second voice carried to his ears. That sounded like Buffy. He’d spoken to her for hours, which was far more than he needed to memorize a voice. If he wanted to, he would have been able to reproduce her voice perfectly. What was she doing out here? And why was someone threatening her? No, skip that. Who was threatening her, and how many pieces could he tear them into?

Silently, he looked into the alley the voices came from. There was Buffy, weilding a sword and what looked like a wooden stake. Her opponent passed through enough light for Superman to see him clearly. Despite himself, he gasped. It looked like something out of a horror story.

Suddenly, Buffy drove her sword through its gut, forcing it onto its knees, and drove her stake through its heart. It turned to dust on the spot. She examined her sword. “Good. No need to sharpen it yet.” She looked down at the dust pile, sighing. “Oy. Even on vacation, a Slayer’s work is never done.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, crap. Gotta get back. The last thing I need is to explain to Clark why I’m sneaking in. It’s not like I can use ‘I was hunting vampires’ as an excuse.” Her face saddened visibly. “Not after that went over so well with mom…” Shaking her head, she ran out of the alley.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Superman intercepted her. “Excuse me.”

Buffy looked up, eyes widening. “Superman? For real?” She broke into a wide grin. “Get out! Xander’s never gonna believe this!”

Superman raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t mentioned a ‘Xander’ yet, but then they’d mostly discussed Clark’s life so far. “Xander your boyfriend?”

She looked quite surprised at the question. “What? Oh, no. Just a friend. Someone else has her eye on him, anyway. I’m staying out of it.”

“I see. Care to explain what you’re doing out here? It’s pretty late.”

She lay the flat of her sword across her shoulders. “Can you think of a better time to hunt vampires? They’re pretty allergic to the sun, ya know. ‘Allergic’ as in they burst into flames if one ray of it so much as touches them.”

Superman’s eyes went to the dust pile. “So that’s what that was? I must admit, I’ve run into a demon or two, but never a vampire.”

Buffy shrugged. “That’s what they call themselves.” She held out her hand. “I’m Buffy, by the way. Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

He shook her hand. “Is that your official ‘work’ name, or something?”

“You mean like ‘Superman’?” she grinned. “No. That’s just what I am. One girl in the entire world given the strength to fight the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness. She is the Slayer. That’s how the spiel goes, anyway. Got my own Watcher, and everything. I’m on a little bit of a vacation right now, but I can’t really sleep unless I’ve taken out a few vamps. It’s a great stress reliever.”

“I’ll bet.” He eyed the pile again. “How many of them have you found tonight?”

“That was number five,” she said. “I can sense more of them, but I’ve gotta get back to my dad’s apartment.” She blinked. “Hey! I thought of him as my dad! Go me.”

Ignoring his own swell of pride at that, he put on a confused expression. “Don’t you usually?”

She shrugged. “I actually kinda just found out about him. He seems great, though. A lot better than the father-figure-known-formerly-as-Hank, at any rate.”

“Who is he? I might know him. Considering how often they manage to get into trouble, I know most of the people in Metropolis.”

“Clark Kent,” she said. “And from how he grumbled about how much his partner, Lois Lane, talks about you, I’m willing to bet that you definitely know him.”

He barely suppressed a smirk. “We’ve met. Listen, if you need a lift home, I know the way.”

She seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. That’d be great. Plus, Xander’ll be so jealous!”


Once Buffy was safely back at the apartment, Superman took to the skies once again, tapping his League comm link. “Batman, come in.”

*Go ahead.*

“Bruce, I need you to check into someone called the ‘Slayer’, and a related person called a ‘Watcher’. I’ve run into the former while she was killing a vampire.”

*I’ll see what I can come up with. What did the vampire look like?*

“Yellow eyes, very sharp teeth, and pronounced cranial ridges.”

*Ah. One of the common breed.*

Superman’s eyebrow rose an inch. “There’s more than one breed?”

*Several. Aurelian, which is the kind you described, Draconic, who are pretty much what Bram Stoker described in his novel, Volturan, the Kindred, and the Corvinus breed are what I know of. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were more out there. The Aurelians are, by far, the easiest to kill. Compared to the other breeds, they’re like cockroaches. Wherever there’s one, there’s a dozen more.*

Superman pinched his nose. “I see. And they’re not redeemable?”

*Some of them can be,* the Dark Knight allowed. *But in general, no. The only groups I’ve met who weren’t out to kill were two small covens, one in Alaska, and the other in Washington State. They were both of Volturan breed. I think there’s an Aurelian somewhere that doesn’t feed on humans, but I’m not entirely sure.*

Despite the fact that he’d just learned of five races that were killing people left and right, Superman felt a little better knowing that Buffy wasn’t killing innocent beings. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

*If you run into a vampire, the two easiest ways to kill one would be your heat vision, or decapitation. Those should work on all of them. Though, you’ll probably have to do both to the Volturans.*

“Duly noted. Thanks, Bruce.”

There was a grunt on the other end. *I’ll call you when I have the information you requested.* The line went dead.

Shaking his head in amusement, Superman flew into his apartment building, changed back into Clark Kent, and opened the door to his apartment.

“Hey, Clark!” Buffy chirped. “How’d things go with… what were you doing again?”

“Checking in with a source,” he replied smoothly. “We meet once a week, just in case he’s got something I might be interested in. Nothing good this week, but I’m sure something will come up before long. How are things going with you? Anything interesting happen?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Went out to a club, saw Superman flying around. You know, he’s a lot more muscular than he looks on TV. I mean, the guy’s practically a wall. Cute too, but not my type.”

“Oh? Why not?”

She shrugged. “Dunno, really. Just wasn’t attracted to him. I mean, he was nice, but more in a ‘family member’ kinda way, if that makes sense.”

Chuckling internally, Clark nodded. “You’re not the first to describe him that way. I’ve interviewed more than my share of people who had the same reaction.” He yawned. “Well, I’m gonna hit the sack. See you in the morning.”

“G’night,” Buffy called as he closed his bedroom door. She lay on the opened couch, and almost instantly fell asleep. It had been a good day.

AN 2: Aaaaaaaand cut! Alrighty. Now, assuming anyone's actually taken the time to read this, I have an important question: Should I have a pairing for Buffy in this story, and if so, with whom? Keep in mind, I won't be using any of the Sunnyhell crowd for this purpose. If I have a pairing, it'll be from the JL verse, or a different xover.
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