Intro: Clark wasn’t the only child sent from Krypton. Buffy and Clark were betrothed from their birth. Her parents were best friends with Clark’s parents. The pair’s ships were however, separated in the meteor shower, and they never met through a series of unfortunately coinciding events, for all that Jor’el has been trying to direct Clark to Buffy. But when Buffy Summers moves to Smallville with her mother, things get a little more…interesting. Not to mention the emergence of the ‘Clark Kent disappearing act’ times two.
Pairings: Yet to be decided.
Disclaimer: None is mine. Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Smallville to Gough, Millar and DC.
A/N: Begins in Buffy season 1 and Smallville season 3. Complete AU- appearance of the supernatural has yet to be decided.
She’d set fire to a gym, she’d set fire to a goddamn gym.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She’d just been so angry when Marissa had said those things, a girl who’d been her best friend since primary school, the one who’d convinced her to even try out for the cheerleading squad…
She’d said so many hurtful things and Buffy had just gotten so angry, and the next thing she knew her eyes were burning like hell, and the room was on fire and she knew she’d been responsible.
She didn’t know how, all she knew was that the fire had come out of HER goddamn eyes.
The only positive in the entire scenario was that no-one thought it could be her, and most blamed those weird-faced gang people and the girl fighting with them, who’d crashed the Spring Fling.
Problem was that they weren’t just ‘gang members’ because she’d seen them turn to dust when hit by flame or staked by that girl. She knew, deep down that they’d been vampires, though everyone else seemed to have forgotten.
She was just silently thankful that none of her classmates had gotten hurt by…her fire, and she’d chosen to keep her head down and pretend it never happened, becoming more and more isolated since that night she’d returned home in a soot-stained prom dress, to her mother’s horror.
And the next thing she knew was that weirder and weirder stuff was happening around her, and though it sufficiently distracted her from the fact that Dad had walked out on her and Mom, and that her parents were currently in the middle of a messy divorce; the fact remained that she had no idea what was wrong with her.
She felt stronger now than ever before and had begun to inescapably wake with the sun.
Not that she’d mentioned that to anyone, because, freak much, but still.
Hell she’d ripped her bedroom door off its hinges two days ago, and even her mom had seen that, shocked the hell out of her. Buffy had muttered something about vegetables clearly working and run away. But nevertheless, her strength had increased beyond her wildest imagination, and she had no idea what was causing it. Hell during gym not half an hour ago she’d set a new school track record, to her teacher’s delight. Problem was that she hadn’t been trying, if anything she’d been jogging.
Leaving her utterly bewildered as to her current situation.
After all, it wasn’t like she could go to the hospital or something, she’d probably end up being experimented on in a lab, she’d seen in the X-men movie that she‘d gone to see for the cute Australian with the facial hair and odd side-burns.
But it raised the question, what was she?
With that she determined to head home, caring little about the class she was surely cutting. It wasn’t like the principal didn’t already hate her, and she had enough late marks to power a small army.
So concerned with the fact that she needed to just get home the ex-cheerleader barely noticed the fact that she was blurring as speeds unheard of to man. The fact that to everyone else she was a flash of blonde and a gust of wind.
No human could possibly run that fast.
Which raised the question once more, what was she?
Buffy sat in the corner of her room, all but in tears, she’d set fire to something with her goddamned eyes.
What kid of person could do that?
She sure as hell didn’t have any witch-y mojo. She wasn’t even a member of the cheer (a. k. a: witch with a capital-B) squad anymore.
What she did have was this feeling that just…welled up inside her, filled her with a strength unlike any she’d know, felt natural and yet scared the hell out of her.
She’d broken a knife on her arm, that shouldn’t happen. No knives should be breaking when accidentally making herself a ’calm-down cream-cheese bagel’.
No way and nu-uh.
She’d miss-cut, apparently having completely shot her steady hands with nerves. But what she did have was just…Instead of losing a finger, the knife had just…shattered…
The tears dripped down her face as she attempted to huddle in a ball, she was supposed to be normal. Not Buffy the impervious super-freak.
“Buffy! Your principal called and said you skipped a…” Joyce Summers burst into the room mid-lecture and froze at the sight of her daughter in the corner, rocking back and forth and in floods of tears.
“Buffy…? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Joyce questioned hesitantly, stepping forward, taking a dramatic u-turn in personality.
“What am I?” Buffy croaked weakly, staring up with eyes like shattered glass.
“Buffy I don’t…” Joyce trailed off, bewildered.
“I don’t get it, I’m normal, I’m supposed to be normal now but…” Buffy stared raising the knife and swiping it at her arm, and letting her mother cry out in horror, the pair watched as the jagged remainder of the knife merely shattered against her skin.
“Oh my God…” Joyce hissed aloud, clutching at her chest.
“Normal people don’t do that, normal people don’t set fire to things or rip doors of their hinges just by opening them, so what the hell am I?” Buffy hurled the handle of the utterly destroyed knife, to the other side of the room and literally hurling through the wall, leaving a hole in the plaster. “Oh God…”
Buffy scrunched herself into an even tighter ball.
"Mommy, what am I?" she asked, her voice close to breaking.
Joyce drew a shuddering breath. "Buffy," she said. "Oh Sweetheart, what did you try to do to yourself?" Hugging the girl to her, as she all but sprinted over, impressive considering the pencil skirt and heels that her mother had clearly worn for a meeting over divorce proceedings.
Buffy's arms came up and she hugged her mom with everything she was, burying her face in her mom’s neck, like when she was younger.
Hiding from the big bad world.
“I…I don't understand," she whispered hoarsely, having run out of tears. “I get hy this is happening to me. What did I do wrong?”
“You‘ve done nothing wrong, Buffy," he mom soothed, running a hand through the girl’s blonde hair, before letting out a slight rasping noise. “Buffy…too tight…My ribs!” She all but wheezed, making Buffy stumble away, horrified that she‘d almost hurt her Mom.
“It's alright, I’m fine, really.” Joyce reassured with a warm smile, waiting for Buffy to visibly relax before continuing. “Nothing broken but my pride.” She joked, as she stared at her panicked daughter, who she pulled once more into a loving and protective hug. Under the sweater, she could feel the muscles that had emerged on her daughters’ frame. “Buffy, I'm so sorry. Honestly, I had no idea that something like this could ever happen. It had been so long and nothing had happened in so long that I though it was just a stage…"
Buffy stiffened in her mother's embrace. She carefully pushed Joyce away and stared at her. "You knew this was going to happen to me?" she demanded. “That I would turn into little-miss-super-freak?”
“No! I mean, it was impossible to get you shots as a child because the needles kept breaking, but I always thought it was supposed to be a child-safety thing….” Joyce Summers began to ramble hurriedly.
Buffy squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to process, before letting out an explosive sigh, the only way she could express her internal struggle. Before turning to look at her flushed, and blatantly worried parent.
“I think we‘re going to need caffeine for this talk.” She commented with false levity, leading her Mom downstairs to the kitchen.
“What am I,” Buffy’s voice shattered the awkward silence of the kitchen, staring into her coffee- black- in an almost bemused manner. “Am I human?”
The silence was all she needed to understand, reading her mother‘s facial expression far too easily.
“Well, that answers that little old bit of trivia.” Buffy said bitterly. "Kind of explains why Daddy-dearest hasn’t called or anything, no more marriage equals no more adopted daughter…” There was a pause and then. “Am I a demon or something? A mutant maybe?”
“No.” Joyce responded with such vigour that Buffy knew it to be true, letting out a slight sigh of relief before waiting for a little expansion, the mug literally cracking in her hands at the tension.
"I…I guess you had to find out at some point Sweetheart…” Joyce gave a tired sigh, running a hand through amber hair. “I only kept it from you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. But you aren’t Hank’s daughter and technically you aren’t mine in blood.”
There was a pause as Buffy let out an almost hysterical chuckle.
“Wow Mom, when you repress, you really repress huh?” Buffy joked weakly, before her features smoothed into something more serious. “What am I?”
“You’re…complicated sweetheart.” Joyce studied her coffee mug silently.
“Complicated, yeah that answers a whole bunch Mom.” Buffy snorted, sending a dramatic gust of wind across the kitchen, sending various cutlery flying. “Oh give me a break!” The Slayer slumped, head buried in her arms. “What’s next, freezing someone? Just call me the weather-girl and be done with it.”
Joyce rested a hesitant hand on her daughter’s shoulder, and emerald eyes peered up through a curtain of blonde hair, vulnerable.
“I’m not a secret government experiment in an attempt to create a super-soldier am I? You’re not CIA are you? Tell me you’re not CIA.” Buffy slipped into babble mode and Joyce smiled as she ran her fingers soothingly through her daughter’s hair.
“No you aren’t and I’m not. You are the way you were always meant to be.”
“Sure, vague it up a little more Mom.” Buffy snorted wryly, brushing her hair out of her face.
“You…Did I ever tell you about where I lived before I met Hank?” Joyce glanced away, nervous.
“Hicksville? Didn’t you say it was like a major meteor zone or something like that?” Buffy queried, blinking at the change of subject.
“I was 24 when I left for good to move to LA. After I got my degree at Metropolis U, I was ready to leave that place in the middle of no-where, but on the day I left I decided to take a look around. To remember it. I thought I wouldn’t be going back again, and I never did, after all my family was all gone and it wasn’t like I was much of a farm hand. I was too weird and artsy for most of the locals. It was the day of the meteor shower, the day I found you.” Joyce explained, seemingly calm but for the way she fidgeted with her bracelets.
“I was with ya till the ‘found you’ thing Mom.” Buffy quirked an eyebrow.
“I was terrified of the meteors, to this day I’ll never know why they didn’t hit me, but then it was over and I heard a baby crying and then I found you.” Joyce ran a tender hand across Buffy’s cheek. “I can’t have children of my own you know, the traffic accident that killed my parents meant I had to have a hysterectomy, and you were there all bundled up in your blanket, and you were so perfect. With your gold curls, and tiny fingers and toes. And all I could think was that you were mine, my girl, my Elissabeth.”
Buffy sniffled slightly at the mention of her actual name which she hadn’t used since before she joined the cheer-squad. “Mom…way to go all gushy on me.” Buffy snuffled, making Joyce smile.
“And you were perfect, my golden girl. And I knew no-one could know about you because they’d take you away if they did and knowing the American government you’d never be seen again, so I hid you. Took you as mine, and when Hank wanted to marry me I made him adopt you as his legal daughter.” Joyce continued weakly, spilling the biggest secret of her life that she’d kept for so long.
“Explains why he didn’t stick around.” Buffy snorted bitterly. “But that sure as all hell doesn’t explain the whole government-taking-me-away thing. Last I knew being an abandoned orphan wasn’t a crime.”
“Lets just say…your parents weren’t exactly from around here.” Joyce shifted nervously.
“What, they were European or something?” Buffy joked, before freezing at Joyce’s pointed look upwards. “They…weren’t from Europe were they?” She swallowed nervously.
“Try not from this planet.” Joyce smiled weakly.
“Get out!” Buffy’s jaw visibly dropped, leaving her almost gasping. “No way, you’re saying not only am I from a completely different time zone, but a completely different ’space zone’ as well. What, did you hide the spaceship in the basement or something?”
Buffy’s cup really did shatter in her hand and she disappeared in a blur of gold, reappearing seconds later, the door of the basement left open. “Nice try Mom, you really had me going there for a second. I mean…”
“I meant the basement in Smallville, not Hicksville. Smallville. I took it there in my truck, locked it away and took you with me when I left.”
Joyce stood, before walking upstairs.
“Weird, conversation ender there, because with the whole ’you’re an alien’ speech I’d have figured there’d be some comforting involved. Surely worth some chocolate cookies or somet…” Buffy trailed off as Joyce entered carrying a wooden box she’d never seen before.
The elder Summers set the box down, opening it reverently as she pulled out a blanket of a material unlike any Buffy had ever seen. It shimmered in the light, a brilliant white, seemingly made up of thousands of interlocking hexagons in the material according to her apparently advanced ‘alien’ eyesight.
Buffy found herself drawn to the blanket, a tingle of recognition running through her as she ran a hand across the soft material unlike anything on Earth, she knew that instinctively. She threaded it through her fingers, noting in the corner a symbol that looked like a stylised A threaded through an E like shape.
“You were wrapped in that…and holding…” Joyce held forward a bizarrely shaped white crystal, with a hexagon-style to it. She was starting to see a running pattern here.
“I…” Buffy swallowed quietly. “I need to think about this…”
Joyce nodded, still holding the crystal. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sweetheart. But when odd things stopped happening when you were 15, I assumed everything was fine. I don’t know what’s changed between then and now. I…just wanted to keep you safe.”
Buffy held back her anger, directed not at her mom but at everything, at this mysterious alien race that had sent her here, at the way that fate seemed to be pointing and laughing at her right now.
“I know Mom, and I love you so much…that you did all this for me when I’m not really…” she trailed off with a vacant look.
Joyce grasped her in a tight hug, staring at her with serious, hazel eyes. “You are and always will be my baby girl.” She pressed a fierce kiss to her adoptive daughter’s forehead. “And I will always care for you.”
“Thanks mom.” Buffy nodded, reaching to take the crystal, trying not to cry, but when her fingers clasped around the object her eyes snapped wide and her frame seized up, eyes glowing golden.
“B-buffy…” Joyce staggered back, gasping as her daughter literally levitated a foot off the ground, spine arched as the crystal glowed in her hand, disappearing in a flash and her daughter slumped to the ground, out cold.
Joyce hurried to her daughter, not really knowing what to do. It wasn’t like she could take her baby-girl to the hospital, and the moment Buffy started defying the laws of gravity, it went straight out of Joyce’s experience and into uncharted waters.
All she could to was make her baby comfortable, and hope for the best.
Not exactly comforting.
Buffy found herself momentarily stunned as she felt the crystal heat at her touch, and a strange wave of….something rush from it, into her petite frame. Even as it expanded within her, it fully awakened the abilities which had slept after the power of the potential slayer had emerged in the girl, only to be overcome by the emotional state of a hormonal Kryptonian, causing the fire and shunting aside the slayer essence that had taken residence in the unwitting alien-teen. The wave set to work fully removing the non-human from the possible slayer line, to which the cunning Powers That Be had tied her to despite rules to the contrary; in an attempt to hold one of the universe’s most powerful race under their sway.
The power of Krypton emerged into the universe once more. Jump started by the beginning of a process now unique to the crystal in her hand, as the majority had been destroyed when its planet of origin was destroyed.
Her body glowed and flared with the same energy that radiated from this system’s sun, adding to her strength.
Her cells reawakened, once more emerging a true, uninhibited child of Krypton.
One of the last.
‘Oh…You’re so beautiful. So like your mother.’
Buffy spun around to see a man with her eyes, a mop of chestnut coloured hair and a brilliant smile crossing his face.
“I know you?” She drawled, dropping into a fighting stance.
‘My name is Kor-Thel. I am your father little one.’ He stepped closer, smiling eagerly in a way that reminded her of herself, but on her annual Halloween sugar-rush.
“Well…huh…” Buffy gaped like a fish, before processing the words and bristling slightly. “What do you mean ‘little one’?”
‘Merely that you are…smaller than I expected.’
“Everyone’s a critic.” Buffy sniffed. “Besides pal, you have no room to talk, you’re a little less human than I was expecting. And for that matter, where the hell are we? One minute I’m having an ‘emotional family moment’ worthy of Days of our Lives and the next I’m here, where-ever here is.”
‘We are in your mind child, this is merely a artificial representation created to explain your abilities when you came of age by your true father.’ Explained the man with a chuckle.
“I thought you were my father?” Buffy pounced on the sentence spoken by the stranger, suspicious.
‘I am merely a remnant. An echo of the Kryptonian that was Kor of the house of Thel.’ The figure explained.
‘Your home planet was known as Krypton before its unfortunate destruction, and your family House was named Thel. As the ruling house was named El. Your own house was an offshoot of the house of El which occurred centuries ago through a bastard line.’ The guy, her father-that-was-not-her-father, explained. Though she had to give him points for not wincing at her mangle-ment of the names.
“Guess that means no royalty Buffy, huh?” Buffy found herself pouting visibly.
‘No, unfortunately not, the ruler of Krypton was Jor-El, my closest friend and upon our discovery that nothing could be done to save our people from our planet’s destruction…’
“Whoa, back up, planet’s destruction? You mean I’m an endangered species?” Buffy squawked.
‘As far as I was able to deduce, only yourself and Jor-El’s son, Kal-El, were saved in time and sent to a planet in the Sol galaxy, which held a sun which allowed your powers to be stronger than the average Kryptonian.’
“I’m from a different galaxy and apparently I’m powered by the sun…go go solar-Buffy.” Buffy snorted wryly. “But how are Kal-El and I alive?”
‘You were chosen to be the future my child. The future of our race. Jor-El had intended for the pair of you to be betrothed…’
“Whoa, back up, re-wind, all brakes on! There will be no repopulating of the species between me and this Kal-guy. Capische?” Buffy squawked, all but stumbling back.
‘You have a strange way of speaking my daughter, but if your heart does not lie with Kal-El, then you have my support.’
“I…Really?” Buffy blinked in surprise.
‘You are my daughter Astra, and though I am a mere echo of the Kryptonian who perished, I was designed by your father to act as a guide and surrogate father and I will support your choices my child.’ He smiled down at her, and she felt her heart ache that she’d never know this kind man that loved her unconditionally, knowing deep down that he would have been a way better paternal figure than Hank Summers.
‘Your birth name, though not the one chosen for you by your human-mother. Astra of the house of Thel. Your technical title would by Astra Kor-Thel. Aethyr, daughter of Kor-Thel.’
“I…wow…I need to sit down.” Buffy breathed out a gasping sigh.
‘You are sitting down daughter.’
Buffy started, glancing around, noticing that she was not, in fact, sitting down, and catching the mischievous glint in Kor-Thel’s eyes.
“Not nice Kor-y, not nice.” Buffy pouted.
‘Nevertheless, this discussion between us is important for your understanding of your abilities. Clearly some have emerged or the crystal would not have activated daughter-mine.’ The figured continued.
“Um…the ‘abilities’ include setting fire to things with my eyes, maybe?” She questioned, hesitantly.
‘Indeed, along with invulnerability, super strength and speed, healing, x-ray vision, heat vision, ice breath, flight and various other abilities which can be unique to each Kryptonian. Your mother, Larka Ra-Thel, could control electrical impulses; my own leant more towards the healing side of things.’ Kor-Thel explained with a weak smile.
“Flight? Flight? I can fly?” Buffy gaped. Lost for words. “Is it a bird, is it a plane, no it’s Buffy Summers and she’s really weirded out. How on Earth am I going to be able to figure this out by myself? Not like I can hitch a ride off the mothership or anything, what with the ‘Kryptonian’ race being extinct an‘ all.” She was almost hysterical at this point.
Arms wrapped around her. ’This is the reason I was created child, to guide and teach, I have all of Kor-Thel’s knowledge and will train you as needed.’ Assured the figure that held her in a protective embrace making her feel the safest she had been in a long time, since before the literal heated-look incident.
“Thank you.” She breathed.
‘I will always be here for you Astra, and though not in physical form, I will do all I can to aid you.’
She had a father…
“Buffy, honey, are you okay?” Joyce’s voice penetrated the confusion as Buffy woke, and she stared up at her real-mom in surprise.
“Yeah…I’m fine…Better than fine…” Buffy smiled, surging to her feet filled with new strength following her pep-talk from Kor-Thel.
“Buffy, what happened?”
“I, I met my Dad, mom. My bio-dad, not Hank, there’s this kind of recording for when my Kryptonian (that’s the species name) abilities emerged. They’re apparently supposed to appear around puberty.” Buffy nodded in explanation following the impressive babble.
“Well, that’s…” Joyce trailed off…
“One hell of a body-clock, yeah, Kor-Thel got quite the Buffy-lecture for that once.” Buffy snorted.
“Kor-Thel? Your father?” Joyce tilted her head.
“Uh-huh, apparently my Kryptonian name is Astra Kor-Thel. Weird huh…I could do with juice how about you?” Buffy beamed eagerly. “There’s so much to tell you mom.”
“You’re taking this well.” Joyce smiled fondly, though bemused at the sudden change of gear by her daughter, as they headed to the kitchen.
Buffy had never been what one would call a calm child, and Joyce had learnt to take mood swings in her stride. Part of raising a teenager.
“Well, gotta roll with the punches.” Buffy shrugged.
“That’s my girl…Though tell me, are all Kryptonians as short as you? Because it would explain a lot.”
“Height jokes, that’s all I get, height jokes.” Buffy sniffed. “My father, my mother, it’s a wonder I don’t have a complex or something equally trauma-induced.”
“No-one has suffered as you have suffered.” Joyce drawled wryly, ushering her daughter towards the kitchen.
And with that the pair decided for a night in mother-daughter bonding over a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, a Kryptonian low-down and Thelma and Louise.
“We’ve been through this sweetheart, the house in LA is too expensive without your father’s input, and besides Smallville will be good for us. A new start. I’m sure you’ll make loads of friends. In fact I think my old friend Nell has a niece about your age, maybe a year or so older. Lara or something like that.” Joyce smiled across the jeep at her daughter, who had her sunglasses perched on her nose, and was slumped with her chin leant on her arm and staring out the window as the fields that passed by.
“Besides, we’re only half an hour from Metropolis if you want to go shopping.” Joyce finished, resorting to the time honoured parental solution of ‘the bribe’.
“I get it Mom.” Buffy shoots her a weak smile as she stares out the window. “It’ll take a while but I’m sure Smalltown has its charms.”
“Smallville.” Joyce corrected lightly, “and we’re almost there.”
Sure enough an hour late she found herself passing a sign post that showed exactly where they were:
‘Welcome to SMALLVILLE KANSAS, Pop, 45,001 – The Meteor capital of the world!’
“A whole 45,000 huh?” Snorted the LA native, unimpressed.
“They’ll have to add two more now.” Joyce pointed out, amused.
Upon passing the sign Joyce slowed the jeep down, to what her Mom called an acceptable public speed, but Buffy called dull, and took in the surroundings.
It was interesting.
In a…rustic kind of way.
Field after field for miles on end with the silhouette of Metropolis in the distance, home of shoes, malls and actual clubs. She missed LA already, as she stared around the main part of town, which was really just one street with shops.
Buffy felt increasingly edgy the further they drove. This was where they were going to live?
Was her Mother mad?
Following the directions that mom had clearly learnt by heart during her youth, they drove towards the ‘family’ home. They passed through the small quiet town, the blonde teen taking in and memorising the shops and locations around. The town was quiet and a quick glance at her watch showed that most people were still either working or at school.
Where she’d be going in a week, lucky her, not.
Five more minutes past by and they’d passed through the ‘main town’ and on their way to where she assumed their new home was. Apparently the land had belonged to the family for generations and her Mom hadn’t had the heart to sell it when she’d left to live in LA. They bounced down the dirt-track road that they’d turned off onto, making her yelp in surprise and grab onto her shades that flew off in the sudden jerky motion of the jeep’s interior.
Before the turned once again onto an overgrown track, and Buffy found herself staring up at the wooden arch with a faded sign that they drove under, leading into a gravel courtyard, beside a light blue, wooden-slat house, which was…quaint in its own way. The car pulled to a halt, her Mom putting on the breaks, and Buffy peered out, taking in the barn and the smaller pasture areas behind said house.
“A farm?” She all but choked aloud, turning to gape at her mother. “No one said anything about a farm, there will be no farming in this Buffy-adventure.”
She clambered out of the car, taking in the field behind which seemed to belong to them, and the barn of fading whitewashed wood which looked like it needed a bit of work. And by ’a bit of work’ she meant it looked like it was barely standing on its own and needed another coat of paint.
Hell if the big bad wolf came a long it would barely even take a huff, let alone the added puff, to blow the damn thing down.
The house was nice enough, with a wrap around porch, shaded from the sun, and if the her mom’s reminiscence of the ’good old days’ was correct it had four bedrooms, so plenty of space and all that.
“Sweetheart.” Joyce chuckled as she clambered out of the vehicle, reaching into a stretch that made her bones crack. “We wont be farming, the place we’re living is simply an old farmhouse, besides when would I have time with the gallery in Metropolis, and you at school? I doubt you could deal with farming anyway.”
“Well, glad that‘s sorted then.” Buffy nodded sternly, allowing a grin to break free as she turned her attention to her surroundings, her boots crunching on the gravel below.
In the distance, perhaps a mile away her super-sight allowed Buffy to see a large red barn beside a small yellow house. The house was almost completely hidden from view by a bunch of trees surrounding it. There was another, larger, white house on the other side of the red barn that her super-sight picked up with ease.
She looked away from the new ‘neighbours’ to her right, the direction she had just come from. She saw the town and a 'Meteor capital of the world' sign less that a quarter mile away. She smirked wryly realising it was the storm which had brought her ship that had made this place so infamous, lucky her.
What impressed her most was the view behind the house. Whilst she could see a LuthorCorp factory to the south-east (you‘d have to be deaf dumb and blind not to know about the Luthors in any part of America, creepy family) , the south west was a beautiful forest area with a wide river running behind it. She promised himself that she'd check out the area later, it was perfect for her sun-meditation.
Sun meditation being a trick Kor-Thel had taught her to increase her energy, and aid in controlling her newly evolving abilities. And though she wasn’t usually all that inner-Zen-like if it stopped her from setting fire to anymore school property, it was fine.
Grinning wryly, she followed her mom up the small steps in front of the porch and watched Joyce pull out her keys, finding the correct one, that looked a little more rusted than the others.
With a hesitant smile, Joyce placed the key in the lock and turned it. The lock of the door clicked open and Buffy stepped inside.
It really was quite exciting.
This was her mom’s history.
The inside of the house was relatively dusty and contained the boxes of stuff that the moving company had already shipped over and dust-cover coated furniture haphazardly sprawled about. A thick layer of dust and grime covered everything in the house making her aware of just how long it had been left unattended.
Her mom’s history needed a cleaning crew, stat.
“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Her mom let out a sigh.
“Yup.” Buffy popped the ‘p’, as her California, condo acclimatisation took in her surroundings. “It’s…rustic.”
“We should be able to fix it up fast enough, I’m sure that it’ll be fine.” Joyce gave an eager smile. “I think we can make a life here sweet heart.”
“Yeah mom.” Buffy forced a smile, taking in her surroundings, missing California already.
And where on Earth was she going to find a beach around here?
It was six when she woke in her new room, to the feeling of the orange, gold sunlight on her skin, as she usually did these days, it was kind of impossible to sleep with her skin tingling as it did when the sunlight of the Sol system hit it, charging her battery. Problem was it was kinda of the impossible to sleep with the tingles. So she was now an early to rise gal, which in itself was odd considering her former ‘party girl’, sleeping late and rarely rising till post mid-day.
She stretched in the sun heading into the bathroom her Mom had pointed out that evening and changing into a pair of ragged, stone-washed denim shorts and a baggy shirt which had once belonged to Pike (an ex-boyfriend from during a brief rebellious phase) and she’d ‘borrowed’. Cotton silk poly-blend.
She rolled the long sleeves up past her elbows and knotted the shirt so it left her tummy visible, snapping her hair up in a clip and already making the silent decision to get the messy, sun bleached locks cut when she went to Metropolis. Downstairs her hearing already picked her mom’s cleaning efforts and she blurred down to join the other woman. Who started in surprise, bottle of cleaner in hand.
“Good morning.” She chirruped as she blurred downstairs, inhaling the smell of freshly made pancakes eagerly.
“My daughter, the human bloodhound.” Snorted Joyce as she held out the syrup which Buffy accepted with a smile, drenching her pancakes in the sticky-sweet substance.
“Food hound since these pancakes are neither bloody nor living.” She munched eagerly, before pausing thoughtfully. “They weren’t either-slash-or one of those options were they?”
“No Buffy.” Joyce laughed, placing a glass in front of the teen, wondering where the girl put it all, and if it had something to do with her newly emerging abilities that caused her daughter to have the metabolism of a penguin on acid. She chose to just accept it for what it was. As she’d grown used to over the years.
Her daughter was an alien, flexibility was a must in their lives.
“Hey look, juice.” Buffy eagerly grinned downing it. “Freshly squeezed too, fancy…” there was a pause as she raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What is it?”
“What is what?” Joyce queried, affecting a look of bland, befuddlement.
“The reason you’ve made pancakes and juice, I was a cheerleader in LA mom, I can smell a bribe from a mile off.” Buffy snorted.
“Yuh-huh.” Buffy nodded bluntly. Finishing her breakfast.
“Fine, we have a whole house to clean and I have a daughter with super speed who would never let her poor, mere mortal of a mother…” Joyce began, interrupted when Buffy gave a groan, rolling her eyes over dramatically.
“I’ll do it. My kingdom for some pancakes.” Buffy drawled, before blurring to the cleaning supplies, and then upstairs. “Stomach how could you betray me so?”
“You forgot, there was juice too.” Joyce called after her daughter, giving a broad smile, turning up the radio as she continued to clean the kitchen which held so many memories of her family.
It felt good to be home again.
And even better to be sharing it with Buffy.
Buffy began cleaning in the upstairs bedrooms and bathrooms, leaving the room that would undoubtedly be her Mom’s study alone, hallowed ground and all, Hank had trained her into that.
She worked downwards, and even with super speed it took time to remove what was essentially 14 years worth of grime and dust ingrained into every surface.
Buffy was just thankful that they’d brought their own furniture, hating to imagine using the stuff that had been left behind when her mom moved. A few tables, chairs and a wardrobe, which was now all but rotten and had been hurled with ease by the super-teen into a pile she’d made in the courtyard type paddock in the centre of their…farm. The old fixtures and curtains and the various other objects that were unsalvageable were dumped on the pile and she was already planning a bonfire.
Regardless of what Mom said, some of those floral prints were a crime against nature.
She scrubbed floors, walls and windows in soapy tides going into a frenzy of cleaning that she‘d picked up from her Mom over the years. And at super-speeds by the afternoon she had most of the house gleaming and thoughtfully turned her attention on what to do next, the barn was instantly set aside, and the boxes couldn’t be unpacked until they decorated. Which meant that next on the list was a trip to the general store which was where her Mom had headed off to in the jeep, leaving Buffy with nothing much to do.
The good thing about living on a farm, she noted distantly, was that they were essentially in the middle of no-where, and their nearest neighbour was miles away, thus practising her abilities should hopefully be easier.
Well, less likely to be noticed, she mentally amended.
With that she headed out into the sun, planning for a short and easy practise that wouldn’t take too long.
She hoped, but fate had other ideas.
“Bad plan, bad plan…” Buffy grouched aloud as she attempted to remain upright As she ran though exercises to help her control her powers.
Problem was that there weren’t exactly Kryptonians lining up round the block to do the good old fashioned show and tell. She only had Kor-Thel, and he was an echoy voice in the crystal which had been re-shaped into a smaller crystal and now hung around her neck, glinting with the Kryptonian symbol for Astra.
She was currently attempting to master her different vision ‘setting’ and shift from one to another at rapid speed. Her clothes looked a tad worse for wear and her hair currently hated her.
Not to mention there was now a…slight…scorch mark on the side of the barn when she’d attempted to use X-ray vision and ended up with the char grill setting, fuelled by her frustration.
Much to the incorporeal voice in her head’s amusement. And didn't that make her sound like she was on the safe side of sane.
Breaking her stance, Buffy cast a furious look to her right where the crystal holding Kor-Thel was smugly humming away…Ass.
‘You must remain calm, Astra, rely on your inner-calm and visualise.’
Her eyes had turned to red pools of energy again, incinerating a poor rock-bystander and sending a nearby flock of birds, hurriedly flapping away into the skies.
“I am visualising!” She snarled. "It's just not being the right kind of visual!"
For all that awakening her Kryptonian abilities had made her stronger, faster, and tougher with all the nifty extras, not to mention improve her grades because her memory had improved by leaps and bounds, it held major drawbacks.
Namely, if she wasn’t in control, people could die.
“Urgh…I’m going for food.” She stomped back to the house, leaving Kor-Thel chuckling quietly, she was just like her mother.
As the Kryptonian teen headed into the house to grab some chips she chose to ignore the statement, even as her Mom returned from the store.
“Buffy! We have a guest.” Buffy looked up from where she’d been unpacking, clambering to her feet as she turned to take in the room that had belonged to her Mom and was now hers, with its cream walls and oaken finish.
Mr Gordo sat on the bed, grinning up at her with those piggy eyes.
She headed down the stairs at normal- human- speed. Her Mom’s statement may have sounded normal to anyone listening but the other meaning was clear to Buffy, no use of powers in the house.
She slipped into the kitchen to find her Mom gossiping excitedly with a red-haired woman of a similar age who was very pretty. Though not as pretty as her Mom.
The woman’s eyes widened when they landed on Buffy, her mouth dropping into a surprised o.
“Is this your girl Joyce?” The woman queried with a kind smile, that made Buffy swiftly warm to her.
“Martha, this is my daughter, Buffy. Buffy this is our neighbour Martha Kent.” Joyce introduced eagerly.
“Hi.” Buffy gave a smile to the woman, fully aware of what a fashion disaster she would be looking like right now, as she scuffed her sneakers on the wooden floor.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Buffy.” Martha smiled, without even reacting to the oddity of Buffy’s name, nice woman.
“And you Mrs Kent.”
“Oh call me Martha, please.” Smiled their new neighbour, who Buffy decided was a lot nicer than that crazy cat-lady Mrs Sanders who would always tut loudly when Buffy walked past in her cheerleading outfit.
“Martha.” Buffy agreed with a nod.
“Martha brought us a welcome present,” Joyce added, shooting a grateful look at the other woman.
“Oh it’s just some pie I made, not really that…” Martha trailed off in embarrassment.
“There’s pie.” Buffy perked up eagerly, her stomach giving a rumble that made to two adults laugh.
“My daughter, the eating-machine.” Her Mom snorted, handing her a plate with a slice of pie which Buffy thanked the two women for and tucked into.
“My son, Clark, is just the same. He’s going to eat us out of house and home one day.” Martha joked lightly. “And you should have seen how disappointed he was when he found out the pie wasn’t for him. Though Jonathon wasn’t much better.”
“The pie is really good Mrs Kent.” Buffy added, excusing both herself and this woman’s son, Clark.
The pie was really good.
Cherry too, her favourite.
“Kids.” Her mom rolled her eyes, before turning to Buffy. “Buffy, Martha’s offered to have Clark run you into school on your first day, he’s only a year above so it would be convenient.”
Buffy blinked in surprise, as the two parents smiled at her, and though she sensed an ulterior motive, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what it was.
“Um, if he’s okay with it, then that would be really great Mrs K- I mean, Martha.” Buffy flushed red.
“Oh it’s no trouble dear.” Martha smiled pleasantly. “Everyone’s new at some point.”
“Now, Buffy, didn’t you say you were going to do some more unpacking.” Her mom glanced at her meaningfully.
“Very well,” Buffy laid down her fork on the empty plate, leaving Martha visibly bemused at how fast it had disappeared. “I will leave you to your girl-talk, thank you for the pie Martha.” And Buffy was headed back upstairs.
“Awfully perceptive, that girl of yours.” Buffy’s hearing picked up on Martha Kent’s amusement.
“I taught her everything I know.” Her mom replied.
“The poor girl’s doomed.”
The sound of the two mothers, both (unknown to the other) adoptive parents of aliens, set to laughter as they caught up on the good old days, leaving Buffy finishing unpacking, rolling her eyes as she did so.
Honestly, parents today.
“He’s late.” Buffy commented, schoolbag slung over her shoulder, impatiently tapping her foot on the floor of the porch.
“I’m sure he was just held up Buffy.” Her mom’s voice echoed from the kitchen, making Buffy let out an explosive sigh.
“I’m going to be late.” She quietly huffed, glancing at her watch, “and I really don’t want to be late, not on my first day.”
“Mom, I think I’m gonna run it.” Buffy blurred into the kitchen hugging her adoptive parent tightly.
“I’m sorry, honey. Martha was sure he didn’t mind.” The older woman sighed, with an apologetic frown. “And I can’t imagine any boy raised by Martha Kent being anything but truthful.”
“Well, you know Mom, everyone’s got a dark side.” Buffy crossed her eyes dramatically.
"Have fun," said Joyce, laughing, as she shifted release her daughter. "I know you’re gonna make friends right away; just think positive."
Buffy nodded, with a weak smile. She was an alien from another planet working to keep a secret identity, how hard could it be?
What could happen in a town called Smallville in the middle of no-where, barely on anyone not living there‘s radar?
It was only seconds later that she mentally regretted asking herself that question, as she had clearly just jinxed the situation. A revelation which was also accompanied by various mental curse words.
She winced inwardly, as she turned to the door.
Buffy, just about to close the door, stopped and looked back inside. Joyce was smiling nervously, a bit embarrassed and apologetic to say it:
"Try not to set fire to anything."
Buffy snorted a laugh and nodded, and seconds later was blurring through the corn fields, catching sight of the school bus and heading after it.
She didn’t know where Clark Kent was, but she really wanted to hit him right now, her shoes were not enjoying this, and they were a favoured pair as well.
She arrived faster than expected, pulling to slow her speed to human, which was after that run, seemingly a snail’s pace. Fixing her hair the best she could, she stepped into sightline, heading for Smallville High.
School hadn’t started yet, but the entrance was packed with mingling kids, whilst a vivid goldenrod and red canvas sign cheered on ‘The Crows’ undoubtedly the football team.
Some things never changed, the Kryptonian teen considered wryly.
The educational system’s obsession with the brutal sport being one of them.
She watched nervously as teens did the whole meet and greet thing, while others were already hurrying inside to class.
All in all, a typical morning at Smallville High.
It was, quite frankly, terrifying.
Between the school buses that had parked up earlier, she watched the movement as she drew a deep breath, blew it out and strode towards the stairs. Steeling what courage she had to walk through those doors.
She really wasn’t looking forward to having to carve out a whole new position in the high school hierarchy, but some things were inevitable.
The sound of someone hitting metal rang through the air, and she momentarily halted in her steps. Glancing around for the source of the noise, but swiftly dragged forward by the throng of people heading into the school. Stopping on this ride really wasn’t going to happen, she noted, it would be like going against the tide.
She just hoped she’d be able to find her way to the school office. She had the odious task of registering herself, picking up her schedule, getting all of the assorted paperwork of doom filled out, yadda yadda yadda. Then there would be the inevitable meeting of the principal to get the once-over, and traditional ‘don’t fuck up’ speech that most kids got in freshman year. But not Buffy, oh no, she got it for a second time. She could barely contain the excitement over what was sure to be mind-numbing and unarguably tedious process.
Then again, her mind could use some mental-downtime. This week had been fairly overwhelming with the sheer amount of cleaning-slash-decorating she‘d been forced through.
There had been a lot of farm to clean, and they had yet to even touch the barn-that-was-broken, that currently looked to be on its last legs.
Not to mention that she was utterly convinced, no matter what her mom said, that the wallpaper had some violent grudge against her.
The process of getting signed in, receiving her schedule and locker with code along with the much dreaded paperwork wasn't terribly thrilling, and as the secretary droned through what needed to be done where, Buffy idly wondered if she could get away with falling asleep there and then.
When the almighty drone was finally finished up, she was swiftly (which made a change thus far) ushered into the office of one principal Reynolds, with his austere look and almost instant, no-nonsense persona that had her inwardly cringing.
"Buffy Summers," He commented as he flicked through her file, "Sophomore, late of Hemery High in Los Angeles. Impressive display of school spirit. Academic history within the bounds of a general 3.0 G.P.A, but your marks in history are a little off.” Reynolds commented lightly, in a way that left no doubt to the fact that his focus was mainly on her academic focus.
She wasn’t exactly what would be called a ’stellar’ student anything other than heritage-wise.
“Welcome to Smallville High,” he continued, as an apparent after-thought.
“Thanks,” Buffy smiled back. He seemed to be waiting for more, so continued, fixing her best ‘I’m a cheerleader, don’t hate me’ look. “I’m really looking forward to it, after the fire my Mom decided to move and...”
“Ah yes…the fire, I believe it was your Spring fling dance where the…activity occurred.” He questioned, his tone stilted. “In fact, I wanted to discuss that with you…”
“I know it’s a little colourful…” Buffy started inwardly panicking, and thankful that they couldn’t trace the fire back to her eyes. That would have made this talk more of the painful-awkward than it already was turning out to be.
“Would you call it that?” Reynolds interrupted, continuing following her look of bemusement. “Colourful? You were witness to a terrible attack by an arsonist.”
Buffy winced inwardly, she hated this, not like she could tell anyone she’d started said fire, lest she end up in a loonie bin.
“There was never any real proof it was arsonists Principal Reynolds.” Buffy added her fifty cents, flinching under his disbelieving gaze. “The fire marshals said it could have been mice.”
The man’s eyebrow went up.
“Mice that were smoking?” She suggested awkwardly.
Buffy’s smile weakened as Reynolds dropped the page and searched through her records, actually paying attention to his new student, so much for the required anonymity.
What was next, her status as an ’alien’ being told to the tired and huddled masses via the Daily Planet (if it was the Inquisitor she wouldn’t have even had a problem). Reynolds gave a sigh, closing the folder and giving her a slight nod.
“You’re sure you don’t need to see a councillor?” He questioned sternly, eying her as if she was about to snap and start rocking back and forth where she sat- nice vote of confidence there (!)
Buffy sighed. "Mr. Reynolds, I’m okay. Really. I mean, yes, it was horrible. Terrifying, and, it was just lucky that not many people were hurt. But the fire marshals were really quick and got us out as soon as they arrived."
Not that the fire could have hurt her anyway, but it wasn’t like she’d known that at the time.
Reynolds slipped the papers back into the file and closed it.
“Well, I hope your stay here is a lot less…life threatening,” he coughed uneasily, and she gave a completely fake and slightly hysterical laugh, that would do nothing to convince him that she was not emotionally traumatised by a fire that she’d technically started.
"Thanks, Principal Reynolds" Buffy nodded, shouldering her school bag.
And with that she was rather swiftly ushered out of the room.
It took Buffy a minute or three to extract herself from the clutches of the receptionist of the school's administrative offices. It was necessary, in a way. It was the whole sympathy thing that got her, she had caused that fire, and it rankled her.
Her internal angsting distracted her from her surroundings enough that when she exited the offices onto one of the main student corridors she went crashing into another student. Her bag and papers knocked from her hand to scatter across the crowded corridor, leaving her mentally groaning. Well, that was an extraordinary start to her first day. Irritably, she knelt to gather everything back up and at the same time ensuring that no-one could look up her skirt. Jocks were predictable like that. It was then that a different, dark haired student came scrambling over to stoop beside her helping her gather up her things.
"Can I have you?" Buffy blinked in confusion at his words, she had to have completely….No, from the look on the boy's face which implied he wanted the ground to swallow him up then and there, her first assessment of the phrase was apparently correct.
She gave him a look that urged him to backtrack.
"I mean.. Can I help you?" He quickly did so, shifting nervously, to glance anywhere but directly at her.
It was kind of sweet in a totally dorky way.
“Sure, thanks.” She gave a grateful smile as he hurried to help her.
“I don’t…know you do I?” He queried, clearly grasping for any conversation to shift away from his embarrassment.
“I’m Buffy. I'm new.” She explained, hesitantly.
“Xander!” He blurted, leaving her raising a bemused eyebrow. “Is me. Hi.” He gave a little wave. Clearly, Xander wasn't exactly the most hip person on campus. But he was nice enough in the whole welcome the newbie, and her Mom did say to make friends and all…
Added to which he was less likely to make her lose her control than back-stabbing cheerleading ex-best friends, and yes she was a tad bitter, but she’d burnt down a gym because of that girl!
Having stacked the papers, offering them to her with a sheepish grin, he moved to help with the few remaining objects on the ground.
He blinked at her in confusion as he held up the Kryptonian necklace that she’d placed in her bag to avoid questions, but have handy in case of emergency of the Kryptonian variety.
He held it up, making it sparkle in the light, glancing at her questioningly.
"It’s a…family heirloom” She explained, hastily snatching up her knowledge crystal and looping it around her neck, hiding it under her shirt.
Technically she wasn’t even lying. “It’s important to me. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost it, thanks.” She gave him a smile that blatantly knocked him off guard, and sent him stammering.
"Okay, cool. The helping is now done.” He babbled, standing and helping her up, though she really didn’t need it. “I'm now going to retreat to the sheer doldrums of History class, where we learn nothing new. Surprisingly.”
“So very true.” Buffy sympathised aloud, not being much of a history and more of a now, kind of gal.
She glanced at her own schedule, noting her own placement in next period’s history class.
"Do you need any books for the next lesson? Cause apparently I‘m in it and the library is such a very long walk away.” She posed dramatically, making him snort with laughter.
“Fear not fair maiden, you can share books with gallant Sir Xander.” He nodded, puffing his chest out. “He of the skateboard crashes and helping of damsels.” Before catching her look. “N-not that you’re a damsel, I mean, I’m sure you can take care of yourself and all…girl power?”
“Nice save.” She commented lightly. “Lead the way Sir Xander.”
“As milady wishes.” He posed a mock-bow, before heading down the corridor side-by-side. “Hey, if you need help getting caught up my best friend, Willow’s super-smart and pretty cool when it comes to tutoring. She’s seen me through since kindergarten.”
“You get a lot of assignments in kindergarten?” Buffy drawled, arching an eyebrow.
“Playdoh just ain’t what it used to be.” He pulled a sad face. “Anyway, most of the time you can find her outside eating lunch on the quad. It‘s kind of our spot."
“You have a spot?”
“We’re cool like that.” Xander replied sarcastically, making her grin.
“And hey, history.” She added.
The next few hours passed without any issues, other than further incident, belongings-wise. Buffy got caught up in being able to not think about anything but school, and forgot to swing by the library. Instead, she ended up in Lit class sharing a book with a girl that reminded her of herself back at Hemry to a worrying degree. It all but left her stunned at how shallow she’d been once upon a time. The difference learning you’re a super-powered member of an all but extinct alien-race was apparently rather dramatic.
But she once more reminded herself of her Mom’s advice to make friends, in fact it would be more suspicious not to make friends and would draw unwanted attention onto herself.
She just wanted to fit in.
So she went along with the girl’s little pop-quiz and found herself slipping into a persona that had been second nature once upon a time.
Added to which Gossip-Queen-Cordy showed her the way to the library.
Bidding the other girl goodbye, she peered into the apparently empty library. There weren’t even any students hanging around. Maybe the books weren’t much good?
“Hello..?” Buffy called, glancing around what appeared to be an empty room. “Anyone here?”
She turned to leave, planning on trying again later, and almost jumping out of her skin at the sight of the teen who’d appeared behind her.
“Anyone’s here then.” She all but squeaked.
“Hi.” The teen smiled. “Can I help? I’m Matt Connors. The librarian.”
“Aren’t you a little young?” She queried, tilting her head, he couldn’t be much older than her.
“I’m taking a year out before taking a place with Metropolis U, I needed some cash and I’m good with books, hence, here I am. Dealing with you darn kids.” He smiled, making her laugh.
“I'm a new student,” Buffy explained. “Came to pick up my books for the semester? Here's my schedule.”
He took the schedule. "Ah, right. Buffy Summers? I’ve got your books ready, welcome to Smallville High.” He placed a large pile of books on the check out desk along with some sheets of paper. “Just fill in those forms and get them back to me as soon as you can. Want a hand getting those to your locker?”
“No, thanks. I'm good.” She shouldered her bag and hoisted the pile in both arms without apparent effort, making the librarian blink in surprise. She winced internally, this secret-identity thing was a job of work. “Pilates.” She explained with a false smile, before flicking her hair over her shoulder, and striding purposefully out of the library.
Never noticing the librarian’s eyes narrow on her thoughtfully.
Buffy headed out to the quad with the lunch time bell, looking for the girl Willow, who’d been described to her earlier, and catching sight of the red-head that Cordelia had taken such joy in mocking, sat all on her lonesome.
“Willow right?” She smiled as she approached, making the red-head jump like a frightened rabbit.
"Why? I mean hi…did you want me to move?" She questioned, face shifting from wary to eager to worried in mere seconds, which was kind of impressive, if not a little sad that she almost expected to be shifted from her spot.
“Why don‘t we start again with hi I'm Buffy. And then skip right ahead to me asking you for a massive favour?” She questioned with a smile, in an attempt to reassure the nervy red-head that she was not, in fact, required to move. “I kind of involves hanging out with me for a while.”
“But aren’t you hanging around with Cordelia?” Willow queried, with a bemused smile.
“Well, seeing as I hung out with Xander first, I figured you guys deserve first dibs. Besides, though Cordelia’s been really nice…To me… I have this burning desire not to completely flunk and the way Xander tells it, you‘re pretty good with the whole catch-up thing.”
“He did?” Her face almost lit up at the mention of Xander, making Buffy fully aware of that particular situation.
“Yeah, said you’d tutored before?” Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Something about kindergarten.”
“The yellow crayon was totally his fault.” Willow cut in seriously, leaving Buffy slightly bemused.
“N…never mind…” Willow flushed pink, before offering to compare schedules and organise a useful meeting time while trying to figure out where Buffy had the direst need to catch up.
Unsurprisingly, history was pretty high on the list.
It was then that Xander and another, kind of gangly boy came along with similarly goofy grins.
“Hi, we‘re not interrupting anything are we? We’re interrupting anyway.” Xander hopped to sit beside her, making her grin at the humour she‘d become some what acclimatised to as they‘d sat together in history trying to avoid doing anything relating to well…history.
"Hey guys.” Willow grinned, becoming suddenly much more alive, before remembering Buffy’s presence “Oh! Buffy, this is Xander and Jesse," she introduced, waving to each boy respectively. "Guys, this is Buffy."
Xander waved a hand. "Oh, Buffy and go waay back.”
“All the way to first period in the far off yonder.” Buffy drawled wryly.
“With history classes you never know, you go in and come out what they claim are two hours later but in fact two years have since past.” Xander nodded solemnly. “It’s a ploy so they get new source material.”
“The fiends.” Buffy chuckled as Xander continued onto a significantly impressive ramble.
“Then there was that period of estrangement. But now we're here, together again, just like back in The Day. I’m quite moved…I may cry." He finished before inhaling a breath to regain what he'd lost on the impressive babble.
Jesse gave a sceptical look yet utterly amused look, “is it me, or are you turning into a blithering idiot?”
“It’s not just you.” Buffy and Willow added as one, making Xander pout vigerously.
After a brief group snicker, the group got down to the comparing of the lunch, a rite known to all teens of the brown-bag experience.
“It’s nice to meet you all.” Buffy smiled.
“It's cool, we're here to make you feel at home, unless you have a scary home.” Jesse swiftly backtracked. “What do you think of Smallville so far?"
"Haven't seen much of it yet bar driving down the main street." Buffy shrugged. "I've only been here a week, and we’ve been busy fixing up the old family farm, its pretty much a wreck. My interaction's been narrowed down to home, school, and our neighbour Mrs Kent."
Willow chimed in excitedly, "Mrs Kent‘s really nice, she’s really cool on Halloween, her son‘s in the year above, I think."
"I know, he was going to give me a lift, but I guess he forgot.." Buffy provided hesitantly, uncertain if such a thing would constitute complaining, enemies was the last thing she needed on her first day.
“It’ll be a case of Lana-itis.” Jesse grinned.
The two guys snickered, before Xander explained to both girl’s confused look.
“Lana Lang is a girl in the year above, very girl next door, got guys clambering round the block. On of those guys is Clark Kent who is renowned for turning into utter mush around her. As in complete social meltdown, forgets every other thought in his head until she leaves the vicinity." Xander explained. “Jesse’s the same around Cordeli-ouch!” He yelped as Jesse gave him a playful smack to the back of the head.
“Not cool dude.”
“Well huh…” Buffy nodded, it was kind of rude of the guy to forget her like that on her first day, no matter what girl was around.
“So, tell us about you. What do you like? What are your hobbies? How come you moved to Hicksville? What are you looking for in a man?” Xander babbled with a grin that made her laugh.
“Are there any dark and painful secrets you wish to share with the class.” Jesse added playfully.
"Boy, you guys are a curious bunch." She snorted.
"Well, Smallville isn't that much of a town. You're big news in these here parts in this here, Starbucks-less town" Xander supplied.
"I'm a front page story... go me." Buffy sighed, opting to furrow her brow over being a little too much the centre of attention. Before frowning. “And I’ve noted this place’s extreme lack of caffeine. It’s like the town cappuccino forgot.”
“There’s the Talon.” Willow piped up.
“The who-lon?” Buffy blinked in confusion.
“It’s a coffee place in town, an old cinema, they still show movies on the weekend.” Willow continued with a smile.
“Coffee which Willow isn’t allowed because-” Xander glanced meaningfully at the red-head who flushed sheepishly.
“-Caffeine makes me jumpy.” Willow finished the sentence as though it had been drilled into her, and by the look of things, it really had.
The attention focus shifted when Cordelia came walking over. Jesse perked up slightly. "Hey, Cordelia!"
‘Mush’ Xander mimed the words to the two girls who sniggered quietly.
Cordelia rolled her eyes scornfully, “Don’t even.” She replied bluntly, before turning to Buffy. “Look, I don't mean to interrupt your rapid social devolution, but I wanted to let you know that Gym's been cancelled.”
"How come?" Not that it was going to hurt her feelings too much, gym just meant a lesson pretending to be normal to the extreme, she still had yet to get the hang of toning down her ‘jogging’.
"Because there was this outbreak of extremely-crispy-dead-guy-in-a-locker. The cheer-squad found him, they were totally wigged out. They‘re talking about skipping out on cheering the next match." Cordelia shook her head sadly, more depressed about the cheer-leaders being scarred than the dead guy.
“Crispy?” Xander raised an eyebrow.
“As in char-grilled you social-reject.” Cordelia huffed, irritably.
Xander, Jesse and Willow made assorted sounds of shock. "Dead guy?" Buffy asked, wide-eyed, before slumping in on herself. “And I was having such a good first day.”
“Tsch, whatever, loser.” And with that Cordelia stalked off, leaving the four teens staring after her.
“Well she’s certainly the milk of human kindness isn’t she.” Buffy snorted wryly.
“That’s our Cordelia, one of a kind.” Xander snorted.
“Could the universe survive another?” Willow queried lightly.
The other three shrugged and arranged themselves for communal lunchtime.
The four teens split up, already planning to meet later, though the lack of clubs outside Metropolis put a bit of a downer on plans.
Later that evening, after hanging out at the Talon for an hour or so, Buffy hitched a ride home with Jesse in his old pick up, the boy’s family apparently owning a farm close by, whilst Willow and Xander lived in more traditional houses that weren’t farms. Though Jesse’s was an actual, working farm as far as she could tell. Whether or not it was Buffy had been grateful, waving farewell and accepting his offer of a lift in the morning.
Her Mom was still in Metropolis, having left a message on the answer-machine that the gallery was going to need overseeing during its opening stages more than the Summers matriarch had originally believed.
Which left Buffy fending for herself that evening.
She could deal with that, she wasn’t totally hopeless, despite the fact that she could probably burn water, she could improvise.
And so Buffy Summers, survivor of Krypton, ex-cheerleader and current resident of Smallville, Kansas; clutched a mug of steaming coffee in one hand and a plate with a banana and a warm cinnamon bun in the other. Elbowing the microwave door closed, she set her breakfast on the wooden table that dominated the farm house kitchen. Having changed into some more indoor comfy clothes, namely ones too raggedy to be worn anywhere but in the privacy of home.
Focusing on her calc homework (what kind of fiend gave the new kid homework on her first week anyway?) she eagerly bit into the muffin, absently licking the cinnamon icing from her fingers as she focused on the equations in front of her.
It was then that the knock on the door distracted her and she all but groaned with sheer relief.
“Thank Christ.” She muttered, happily throwing down her number two pencil and heading for the door, opening it to gape up at the teen that stood sheepishly on her doorstep.
The teen who was for lack of any worthy descriptive words, just…guh…
Totally drool-worthy, a little too into flannel for her liking but hot all the same and really making her regret the over-sized Hemery sweat-top she currently wore that more than likely made her look ridiculous. Way to go Buffy. There she was all scruffy and mussed, whilst he stood there all con-fed farm boy with messy black hair, piercing emerald eyes and a tall frame that meant she had to tilt her head to look at him eye-to-eye.
Stupid short-ness genes.
“Um…Hi.” She smiled weakly, inwardly kicking herself for her final descent to the bottom of the dork ladder.
‘Um hi- who says that?’ She mentally groaned at her apparent inability to string together a sensible sentence in front of a good looking boy wearing far too much plaid for his own good.
‘You clearly’ Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, leaving her wincing at the realisation she had her own semi-constant, personal chaperone.
“Can I help you?” She prompted after a moment’s silence, where the boy just seemed to stare.
“Oh, right.” He smile adorably, as he visibly shook himself. “I don’t know if you know me, my name’s Clark Kent and…”
Buffy’s eyes instantly narrowed, this was the guy who’d ditched her that morning? Left her standing round like a complete moron, when she could have caught the bus and met more people?
He’d better have one hell of an explanation or she was so going postal on his undeniably cute ass.