We are legend
This has some heavy fighting, so the 21 thing is applicable here for that reason. And Jonathan Kent is very Jonathan Kent. Hope you like it.
The Kent Farm, Smallville Kansas
Clark Kent had been called many thing in his time, but
moron was not one of them. Or at least not by anyone
who honestly believed it. So when this was one of the
names Dawn Summers called him for responding to her
proposition with 'Chloe handles all those
arrangements, ask her', he took it for a simple insult
and not a carefully weighed assessment of his
intellect. Many people would have taken turning down
a girl as cute, friendly and sexually rapacious as
'the key' stupid.
Those people were not sleeping with both of the women
he had always fantasized about, PLUS the other women
that they took home and DEMANDED he 'service', to
prove his loyalty and love for them. Lana Lang had
developed a serious appetite for cheer leaders, while
Chloe Sullivan kept bringing home women Lex Luthor
referred to as 'most intriguing'. No, Clark was an
alien, he was a naive farm boy, he was, to be honest,
not a straight A student, but the kind of stupid that
sours a sweet deal like that he was not. Explaining
this to his parents, who thought Norman Rockwell was
the greatest painter of the twentieth century, if a
bit of a social radical, was the tricky part.
"Why was that poor girl crying when she ran out of
your room Clark, I know you didn't hit her, so what
was it." Jonathan Kent knew Clark had not hit her for
two reasons. One, Clark was his son and no son of
Jonathan Kent was going to beat up women. Secondly,
if Clark had hit her in real anger her head would now
be in low Earth orbit, perhaps accompanied by the rest
of her body, perhaps not.
Clark had the look of someone who was thinking about
his answer very carefully, which is a bad look to have
when trying to avoid trouble. He would work this out
eventually, by himself, but at this point in his life
his experience with lying was very limited. Still his
parents knew something was up, something that he was
worried about their reaction to. What was it, Murder,
Rape, Voting Republican, what?
"She propositioned me and I turned her down." Said
the interstellar refugee; it at least had the virtue
of being true.
"Clark, you hang around Lex an awful lot, is there
something about your 'relationship' with him you need
to tell us?" Martha responded.
"I'm not gay mom, its just that I don't want to upset
Chloe and Lana."
"Son, if you can't decide between those two maybe you
should date someone else." Jonathan said, a man of
the twentieth century, if not the nineteenth. "You
have to decide between them sooner or later, you can't
have both after all."
"I AM having both of them."
"WHAT!" From the Kent’s in unison.
"Chloe is my girlfriend, and so is Lana."
"Son, when they find out they'll kill you."
Pronounced the elder male of the group, appalled that
his son was cheating on such nice girls. "Chloe will
at least try, and she knows about the funny effects
those meteor rocks, she'll invent something to get it
"No dad, Chloe is my girlfriend, and SHE is the one
who insists I sleep with Lana." Clark said. Maybe if
he left out some of the details he could get away with
his dignity in tact. Trying to explain his living
arrangements was likely to get him grounded for a
"Chloe TOLD YOU to have sex with Lana." Martha Kent
was from Metropolis, and had a wider and more
experimental social circle as a teenager. Not that
she had ever told Jonathan about it, but it was there.
The sneaking suspicion was there that her eldest had
not yet told the whole story, and that it had better
come out now. "Is that all, is this a ménage et
"A menagerie, what are you talking about Martha?"
"Dad, it means where two women have sex with each
other and a man as well, and yes, that is the basic
"BASIC IDEA, just how depraved is this THING you've
gotten into." Dear dad demanded to know. Dave at the
feed store had commented about 'your son getting
involved with these damn dykes', and Jonathan had
simply assumed his son was studying irrigation
systems. His elder brother had introduced the term to
him after his Vietnam service, dykes were small dams
and sat higher than the paddy fields and sometimes had
mines planted on them. "DID YOU SUGGEST THAT POOR
GIRL JOIN IN TO THIS, THIS, THIS..."
"No dad, she suggested just me and her, and I told her
that she would have to get Chloe's permission."
Perhaps if he explained things properly he would not
be disowned by the family entirely. It was worth a
shot. "You see dad, Chloe and Lana bring in other
women some times, but they asked me to not do that,
just to let them handle it. I don't touch other women
without Chloe's approval, and they don't touch other
men at all."
Jonathan had nothing in particular against lesbians,
in the sense that he had nothing against life on Mars.
He had never thought about it, never for a moment
considered gay people would ever be part of his life.
This was Smallville Kansas, after all, not San
Francisco. Now his eldest son was part of some
strange menagerie thing that involved two girls who
brought Clark extra women from time to time. He could
see why Clark had been in an unusually good mood for a
while now, anyway.
"Clark, Dawn is staying for a while because Faith
brought her, is she a part of this mystical anti demon
force?" Martha asked, partly to change the subject.
Partly because she didn't want either of the men
present to start wondering how much she actually knew
about threesomes, and how. It was a long time ago,
Katherine was married to a dentist in
Cleveland...anyway it was a long time ago.
"She's a slayer, they both are." Clark hoped that
made a difference, the TV news had covered 'the war
against evil demons' to a degree, but Clark did not
know how much attention his parents had been paying.
With visits from Werewolf guru's, an alien eldest son,
a genetic super something youngest son, and Chloe
working part time for Karnak demons he assumed they
knew more than average.
"Dawn is so young to be involved in this terrible
thing." Stated the maternal one of the three.
"Mom, Dawn is OLD, for a slayer, most start at 15 and
die within six months. She's 18, older than 78% of
the slayers that ever lived." Clark had discussed it
with Giles over the phone once; anything about near
human's fascinated him.
They had forgotten, it was something hard to take in,
that the survival of the world had depended for
millennia on girls with primitive weapons that rarely
lived very long. And the death rate had been
compounded by hormone imbalances, slayers were more
human than Clark, but still different enough to be
killed by being treated like a human. They were
thinking of Dawn as an 18 year old girl like any
other, but she wasn't.
"Son, I'll call Chloe and get her permission, you go
find Dawn." Jonathan Clark said.
Sunnydale, the park near some caves
Red team moved through the entrance and down the cave
to where it split in two directions, then secured the
area and prepared for green and blue teams to move
through and down the tunnels. Green went down the
left tunnel, and blue the right one. The ceremony was
down one of the tunnels, but the sacrifices were being
held down the other. By 'a large group of mixed
demons,' who were in a bad mood from being forced to
hide here, or so intel said. Which tunnel was which
they did not say.
Buffy was moving with blue team, Xander with green,
Vanessa Peters, Willow and Giles with Red team in
reserve. The red head could still do some magic in
emergencies, it was a '...a Jedi uses the force for
information and defence, never attack...' sort of
deal. Mulder and Scully were back in LA with Angel,
dealing with another crisis, after the souled vampire
had given up on solving the 'Xander puzzle'. Gunfire
roared out the left tunnel, radio reception was
terrible and so Willow was relaying information with
"Green team reports contact with a large force of
demons, with human prisoners. They request
re-enforcements urgently." Willow repeated, since
only she could hear the information and Lieutenant
Peters needed to hear. It was obvious if you thought
about it, but had had to be practised because people
forget the most basic things in a real combat
situation. So drill and repetition make habits of
what is needed. "Blue team have the ceremonial area
in sight. Nothing much happening, they are setting up
a crossfire and appear not to have been observed."
"Red team move down the left tunnel and re-enforce
green team, they have command priority." Since the
teams normally worked independently, teamwork WITHIN
teams was excellent, but between teams tended to break
down, hence clarifying that green team commander was
in charge. "Yellow team move into the tunnel complex
and get SWAT to secure the entrance."
Red team jogged down the tunnel, it was large enough
to drive a small truck down and had no problems
accommodating them standing up. The roar of massed
shotguns was punctuated by screams now, not all of
them from demons. Green team was in trouble, holding
the tunnel entrance into a large cavern, and under
heavy attack at close quarters. Red team started
chanting 'red team, red team' as they approached, to
let the other cops know the pounding footsteps
approaching from behind in the dark were friendly.
There was no sense risking a 'friendly fire' incident.
"Red team, red team, red team." And suddenly they were
avoiding wounded green teamer's, and forcing their way
to the front. Green team fell back and reloaded,
there was not enough room for both teams at the front.
Harris, nominally a 'civilian advisor', was in
command, since no-one senior to him was alive, or at
least not too injured to handle it.
Xander Harris was wielding a broad sword coated in
blood, while wearing I.R goggles it was impossible to
know what colour, since everything looked green
anyway. He had slashes down his left arm and chest,
bleeding but not too bad. The demon head he was
holding, by the hair, in the other hand looked faintly
surprised, and bruised, since he had apparently been
using it as weapon, as he did again, swinging it down
viciously to knock down something big with too many
arms and a determination to attack despite the loss of
a leg. It rose up on its arms again, and he hit it
again before stabbing something in front of him. A
shotgun double tap blew away the thing stuck on his
sword, and then the other thing on the ground.
"Hernandez, so glad you could make it to the party."
Harris shouted into the other mans ear, barely
discernible over the noise. With a fresh team a zone
was being cleared in front, and something could be
seen of the battlefield. Or perhaps slaughterhouse
was a better term, there had to be enough pieces here
to account for hundreds of demons. The teams had been
brought to full strength for this assault, a dozen
men each. Green team seemed to be down to 4 plus
Harris, who was clearly a dangerous maniac, but a
USEFUL, dangerous maniac.
Firing a shotgun that close to someone's arm - someone
friendlies arm - was a violation of common sense and
several close combat regulations. Xander seemed to
prefer not being eaten and/or disembowelled, however,
and stepped back to provide room for red team. The
teams now had a good 10 feet clearance, and the
survivors of green team moved into the line, pushing
the demons back another few feet. Then suddenly there
was a clear space, as the demons in front of them were
gone, and the whole cavern came into view.
"Oh, wow." Was all anyone could say, it was from the
greenest member of Red team, transferred in the day
before from SWAT. The cavern was filled with bodies,
or rather the remnants of bodies, most piled within a
short distance of the entrance green team had come in.
There were more scattered around the area, where they
had fallen from the initial cannonade. None of the
sacrificial victims were visible, or at least, none
were recognizable as once having been human. "Look at
the connecting tunnel."
A report was made to Lieutenant Peters, who told them
to be certain there were no hostiles alive in the
cavern before pushing through the connecting tunnel
into the sacrifice chamber. That took what seemed
like forever, but there was no gunfire from the other
cavern so presumably blue team was still quietly
waiting for the main show. Eventually the last of the
demon wounded was finished off, and the teams
assembled ready for the next phase, clearing a path
down the access tunnel to the sacrifice chamber.
"Oh wow". The green kid said again. And he was
green, from demon blood and bits. The connecting
tunnel was where the demons that had retreated had
staged a mass panic, trampling any who fell or were to
injured to stand. The ones at the bottom had been
ground to a paste, like some strange meaty substance
that might be squeezed out of a toothpaste tube.
Xander was still carrying the head, clearly having
forgotten it as anything other than a useful weapon.
"Lieutenant Peters says advance to the ceremonial
chamber." The message just appeared in the radio
headphones they were all wearing, like a radio signal,
but not. It was Willow. Harris gave a hand signal
and they advanced, green team ahead slightly to scout,
red team in three lines of four behind them. Wading
slowly through the ankle deep goop, the colour teams
headed down the rock passageway. It was eerie waiting
for something to happen, creepy, then it did happen.
Green team made contact again, so loud in this
confined space as to be painful.
"Advance to contact, then lying, kneeling and standing
as practised." Xander had been there for the practice,
he had been careful to work with green team regularly
so that they thought of him as part of the team,
because he was. It was his idea to form three short
lines in these narrow tunnels, at different heights,
so they could fire over each other’s heads. He had
sold it to Lieutenant Peters as necessary for the
mission. "Green team to the sides, DO IT PEOPLE."
There were Sixteen semi-auto 12-gauge shotguns, with
30 round magazines firing in the narrow tunnel into
the tightly packed demons guarding the ceremonial
chamber on this side. Each was rigged to fire a
double tap, two closely spaced shots, one incendiary,
the other Armour Piercing High Explosive. They left
burning pieces of meat, looped intestine, and splashed
blood. Treacherous underfoot, always likely to make
you fall face down into it, but better than doing this
with swords and crossbows. as the Scooby Gang would
have had to without police support. And still one
attack wave got close enough that Xander waded in with
his sword and 'club'. The last surviving members of
several demon species was here, determined to open the
hellmouth and end the humans once and for all, or die
in the attempt.
Well, they were achieving the 'die in the attempt'
part of it anyway. The three lines did not all fire
at once, there was always one reloading. Each man had
entered the tunnel with a full, 50 lb backpack, with
nothing but ammunition in magazines. With the
ammunition brought in during the cavern cleanup by
regular beat cops detailed for that purpose they were
back at full loads before this attack.
Which was good, because they were chewing up ammo like
it was in infinite supply. Green team had been down
to their last magazines when red had arrived, but
there was no one to back up anymore. If they ran dry
they died, and then the human race died. End of
story. Then it stopped.
"Kemosabe, me think it too quiet." Someone commented.
The teams loaded fresh drum magazines, and walked
slowly down the tunnel. They reached the ceremonial
area without problems, and saw why. There had been a
pitched battle here too, but with the noise of there
own fight it was impossible to hear it. After all
this it might be impossible to hear much anyway,
though Giles had contacts who insisted the magical
protection given would prevent noticeable loss of
hearing. Everyone wanted to help, now that the battle
against evil was in the open.
The Magic Box. Evening of the next day
"Giles, we made seven entire demon species extinct
last night. Whatever happened to the PTB maintaining
a balance." It was Willow, not critical, but raising
a concern many in the magical and mystical community
had felt. The Powers had put so much effort to
'maintaining the balance', and here they were tilting
it in their favour, without so much as a visit from
Whistler to say back off. "And Xander, maybe you
should have put the head down before doing the press
"Hey, I forgot I was carrying it, and they were right
there talking to Peters, it's not like I had time to
think about it." He was bandaged and a little sore,
but otherwise ok. Another advantage of his Super
Soldier genetics, the blow that snapped his shotgun
early in the fight and slice through his hard plate
Kevlar like cardboard would have killed a normal
human. "And you've never complained about my head
"Children please, if this keeps up I will send you to
bed without desert." Every so often Rupert Giles
thought he as back dealing with 15 year olds, and
tonight was one of those times. "Willow, the
consensus seems to be that with the final battle for
the entire plane of reality occurring in a year trying
to maintain the balance is pointless."
"And if they want the balance restored and kept right
up to the last day?" The former witch asked.
"Presumably they kill us all in our sleep. I intend
to not worry about it, and you shouldn't either. We
have a son at home to spoil rotten, and Faith and Dawn
get back tomorrow, so you need your sleep."
It was 12 months and 11 days to Armageddon.