Chapter One
Kara would deny it if asked, but she was kind of excited. She had never investigated someone as a reporter before, and she had never walked into the lair of a villainous mastermind before.
Maxwell Lord didn't count—he was admittedly villainous, but his "mastermind" skills weren't quite up to par with the kind of people her cousin had to deal with.
Now, though, she was walking into a Luthor's building not even 24 hours after the Venture space shuttle nearly crashed as a result of an explosion mid-flight. The one vacant seat on the shuttle?
Reserved for L. Luthor.
Sure, it wasn't Lex—it was his sister Lena. And Kara wasn't technically a reporter—she was just tagging along with Kal. Still, she felt that this was a big leap forward in both her civilian and hero careers.
Kara was slightly less enthusiastic about ambushing Lena Luthor on her way into work. Surely they could have made an appointment. She stood awkwardly on the sidewalk in front of National City's L-Corp branch, listening to Kal tell a story about Lois that she'd already heard. Kara appreciated that he loved his wife, but it was too early in the morning for this.
If it wasn't for her Kryptonian heritage causing her to wake with the sun, she'd be dead on her feet. How did humans start their day this early?
Kal's story was interrupted as a sleek black sedan pulled up in front of the building. The driver—an average looking man in a suit—got out first and walked to the rear door to open it. Kara leaned forward, eager for her first sight of Lena Luthor.
A dark-haired woman in a practical-looking pantsuit exited the car. She was plain—an ungenerous observer might even call her face homely. She did have one notable trait, though.
"Is that Lena Luthor?" Kara asked. "She's enormous."
It was true. While the woman's body was actually rather lean, she just kept stretching up. Kara was actually tall for a human woman, but she had to crane her neck to look this woman in the face. She was taller than Kal too—she might be nearly eye-to-eye with James.
"No," Kal said, frowning. "I've never seen her before. She must be Luthor's new henchwoman."
The henchwoman in question turned and raised an eyebrow at the pair, almost as if she'd heard Kal speak. Kara smiled back sunnily. She received no response.
Lena Luthor herself stepped out behind the woman. This time there was no doubting her identity. She was impeccably poised, her clothes probably cost more than three months of Kara's rent, and she definitely appeared unimpressed to see two reporters—or one-and-a-half reporters—loitering outside of her building.
"Clark Kent," Luthor drawled, "How unsurprising."
"Ms. Luthor," Kal said, inclining his head towards the woman. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
Instead of responding, Ms. Luthor simply held out an open hand. Her driver placed a cup of coffee into it, and Ms. Luthor took a long sip. Kara fiddled nervously with the strap of her satchel. She felt silly carrying it now—should she have left it at her apartment and flown back to pick it up before work? Did she look unprofessional, since she wasn't using it for anything? Kal had his reporter bag…
"Would you like me to remove these two, Ms. Luthor?" the henchwoman asked lazily, as if it wouldn't be any trouble at all. Eyeing the woman's impressive physique, Kara privately conceded that if she and her cousin were human, this random goon could probably toss them aside like bowling pins.
Kara wondered where the Luthors recruited their muscle. They probably had their pick of the talent.
"No need, Taylor. Unfortunately this is the city's sidewalk, so they're free to linger," Ms. Luthor responded. "As for the questions, we might as well get this over with. We'll have to walk and talk, Mr. Kent—I have a busy day ahead of me, and we can't all spend our mornings lingering on sidewalks."
Kal nodded in acquiescence. The henchwoman—Taylor, apparently—strode ahead quickly and opened the building's door. Ms. Luthor walked through confidently, and Kal quickly followed. Kara trailed after him, making eye contact with Taylor as she passed through the doorway. The woman stared back at her impassively.
Kara caught up with Kal, and she heard Taylor close the door and begin to follow the small group across the L-Corp lobby.
"Ms. Luthor—" Kal tried, but the woman in question ignored him and started walking faster.
Ms. Luthor walked straight into an open elevator—Kara honestly didn't know if it was simply luck or if there was some design in place to always have an elevator waiting for the CEO—and the rest of them piled in after her.
Ms. Luthor selected a floor and the elevator started moving. Kara stared at the ceiling and tried not to feel claustrophobic.
"Ms. Luthor, if I could ask you a few questions about the Venture explosion?"
Kal's persistence had brought him far in his career as Superman. Unfortunately, it withered in the face of a half-awake Lena Luthor.
"Ask all you like, but I'm going to finish my morning coffee first."
"It's the high point of her whole day," Taylor the henchwoman spoke suddenly, sounding as if she were reciting a phrase she heard frequently.
Kara glanced to the side just in time to see a small grin disappear from Ms. Luthor's face.
They waited in what Kara felt was awkward silence—although Ms. Luthor seemed unaffected as she sipped contentedly from her coffee—while the elevator steadily climbed up. At last, they came to a stop and the doors opened. Ms. Luthor walked out, placing her now empty coffee cup into the waiting hand of an assistant. Kara was secretly impressed by the coordination.
"Thank you, Jess," Ms. Luthor said.
"Good morning, Ms. Luthor," the assistant responded. "Should I push your first call back?"
"That won't be necessary. We won't be long."
"Of course, ma'am," the assistant nodded, and was promptly left behind as they entered the CEO's office. Taylor, still lurking menacingly behind Kara, followed them into the room.
"Ms. Luthor—" Kal tried again.
"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for why I wasn't aboard the Venture yesterday," Ms. Luthor interrupted, cutting off whatever Kal was about to ask.
"Well, that's why we're here," Kal responded, not missing a beat. For all that he bumbled around, Kara knew that Clark Kent was a good reporter.
"There was an emergency regarding the planning for a ceremony I'm holding tomorrow. I'm renaming my family's company and I had to cancel," Ms. Luthor spoke, making her way towards her desk. She seemed completely unphased, although Kara knew she had to be aware of why Clark Kent was asking her questions about the Venture.
"Ah. Lucky."
"Lucky is Superman saving the day," Ms. Luthor said. Taylor, who had followed her boss behind her desk, turned her head to the side and brought a hand up, as if scratching her cheek. It had the effect of hiding her mouth from view, and Kara thought she heard a muffled snort.
"Not something one expects a Luthor to say."
"And Supergirl was there too!" Kara found herself blurting out, despite internally screaming at her mouth to shut up and stop talking. Ms. Luthor, Taylor, and Kal all swiveled their eyes towards her. She cringed, feeling like a deer in headlights.
"And who are you exactly?" Ms. Luthor asked, raising an eyebrow and destroying any hope Kara had of getting away without speaking again.
"Um, I'm Kara Danvers. I'm not with the Daily Planet. I'm with CatCo Magazine, sort of," she responded, trying desperately to develop a new power and turn invisible.
"That's a publication not known for its hard-hitting journalism. More like 'High waisted jeans, yes or no?'"
If Ms. Luthor and her minion were a different, less severe duo, this felt like the kind of line Kara would imagine them high-fiving after. As it was, she just decided to take the hit to her pride. It couldn't get any worse.
"I'm just tagging along today." Or I could double-down. Why do you keep speaking, mouth? Tagging along? It was beginning to feel like Bring-Your-Awkward-Cousin-to-Work Day.
In the process of trying to make herself sink into the ground and be forgotten, Kara zoned out of the conversation. It was going in circles anyway—Kal was grilling Ms. Luthor about being a Luthor, and the CEO was trying to divert him to a more fact-based investigation. Taylor the Henchwoman, meanwhile, glowered casually at the two Kryptonians.
Kara supposed that when looking intimidating was literally one's day job, one picked up the facial expressions to match. Occasionally she would try to sneak a glance at the… bodyguard? Did CEOs really have those? Kara wondered. What's on her paycheck? That can't be her job title.
However she was classified by L-Corp Human Resources, Taylor was staring directly at Kara every time she tried to peek at her. They had made extremely uncomfortable eye contact several times now.
Kara was no longer enthusiastic about this investigation/interrogation—she wanted to leave. Kal never made his missions sound so awkward when he talked about them.
She tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Ms. Luthor say "I'm just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family. Can you understand that?"
Despite her best efforts to stay silent, Kara responded with a whispered "Yeah."
Those words resonated with Kara. How many years had she struggled to define herself as just Kara, without the weight of the dead House of El behind her? Kara had spent half her life trying to just be, despite having a civilization's worth of expectations on her.
Kara understood.
She had come in here prepared to face Lex Luthor's evil, xenophobic sister. Instead, she found a woman who was trying to be recognized for anything but her family history and her last name. It felt uncomfortably like looking into a mirror.
"I know why you're here," Lena said. "Because a subsidiary of my company made the part that exploded on the Venture. This drive contains all the information we have on the oscillator. I hope it helps you in your investigation."
As Kal took the flash drive and bid Lena farewell, Kara found herself willing—even eager—to give this Luthor the benefit of the doubt. Who knows what humanity could achieve if this incredible brain works to benefit the planet rather than to subjugate it?
Kara followed her cousin back to the elevator and, despite the recent space shuttle explosion, found herself filled with excitement about what the future could hold for National City.
*****
"Fantastic," Lena said with a sigh, "Clark Kent snooping around is just what L-Corp needs right now."
Taylor approached Lena as she slumped down on her desk, cradling her head in her hands. Neither of them were very physical creatures, but Taylor knew that proximity alone could provide some small comfort.
"Relax, Lena. When he can't find anything to connect you to your aspiring supervillain of a brother, he'll bumble and stutter his way back to Metropolis."
"'Aspiring' supervillain?" Lena asked, raising an eyebrow. Taylor knew that this was her way of deflecting the conversation away from her own discomfort, so she went along with it.
"As both a former supervillain and a frequent fighter of supervillains, I like to think I'm an expert on the subject."
"Of course." Lena nodded sagely.
"I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but your brother's villainy wasn't very super. It was just above average—probably only a five or six."
"Out of ten? There's a scale?" Lena seemed amused, and Taylor silently took a small amount of pride in her accomplishment. Lena wasn't easily amused, and Taylor knew she wasn't usually very funny. A sense of humor wasn't something she could obtain through the application of violence and wasps, so she'd long ago resigned herself to being humorless.
"Well, he had the megalomania and the scheming down, but he was arrested the first time Superman could prove he committed a crime. What kind of supervillain just goes quietly like that?"
Lena's expression sombered, and Taylor internally grimaced when she realized she'd gone too far. Externally, she knew she was as stone-faced as ever. Still, Taylor was quick to apologize.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made light—"
"No, it's fine," Lena waved her off, "I'm trying to get comfortable with it. I don't want it to hurt anymore."
Taylor didn't know how to respond to that, and she hated how helpless she felt just standing there. She could fight supervillains and battle world-ending threats without batting an eye, but something in here was so broken that she couldn't be emotionally supportive for her friend. She felt even worse when she heard Lena mutter quietly, in a small,broken voice:
"Why does it still hurt?"
Taylor opened her mouth, hoping that something comforting would come out, but she stiffened as she felt something tug on her finely-honed instincts. She took a moment to evaluate L-Corp's lobby, which she had almost completely mapped due to the generous application of bugs.
Lena was lucky that the Luthors weren't the owners of a restaurant empire, or they'd be having some serious problems with health inspectors.
Four men carrying large bags had entered the building—this in itself wasn't unusual, but something about it had captured Taylor's attention. Just her paranoia, or…?
And there it is. Her instincts were still sharp. Two members of Lena's security team peeled off and joined them in an elevator. Before anyone in the lobby had realized something was wrong, the six men were on their way to Lena's office.
She ruthlessly squashed the part of her that was grateful for the interruption. Why was it so hard to be there for her friend? Why was she so drawn to violence but so unable to be vulnerable?
Taylor was frustratingly pleased that she didn't have time to dwell on those questions right now.
Lena must have noticed Taylor's change in attitude, because she quickly stood up from her desk.
"What is it?" This was Lena the CEO—the ruthless Luthor, all business. Taylor allowed herself to feel relieved; this was the Lena that she needed right now.
"Six gunmen just came through the lobby. They're in an elevator, coming up," Taylor reported her observations. A brief look of fear appeared on Lena's face, but she immediately repressed it. When she spoke, Taylor couldn't hear a trace of hesitation or concern.
"My security didn't stop them?"
Taylor paused, then decided to just rip off the metaphorical band-aid.
"Two of them are your security."
A dozen different emotions flickered across Lena's face. Anger. Fear. Frustration. Exhaustion. Taylor recognized each one, having felt them before in similar situations. Now, she just felt cold. Numb to the violence and the betrayal.
Lena took a breath. Taylor watched her boss steady herself; she knew Lena well enough to know that her friend was losing the battle to keep her emotions under control.
"What do we do?" Lena asked. Taylor was her bodyguard—officially, her Chief Protection Officer. This was definitely the most serious threat they'd faced yet, but Taylor wasn't concerned.
This was a hit squad sent to kill Lena Luthor. Based on the gear they were unloading from their duffle bags, they were professionals. By all normal measures, they were a very credible threat.
For a super-powered former warlord, this was barely a warmup.
"Call Jess in here," Taylor said. Best to leave no civilians in the way. No one else needed to get hurt. Besides, Taylor liked Jess—she was reliable and loyal. Lena reacted instantly, using her intercom to buzz in her assistant.
Jess entered the room, attentive as always and ready to help.
"You called, Ms. Luthor?" she asked. Lena opened her mouth to respond, but it seemed she couldn't figure out how. She turned to Taylor, seeking answers.
"Six men are on their way up here to kill Ms. Luthor," Taylor said, wasting no time on pleasantries. She started removing her coat and kept talking while Jess paled and started stammering.
"You and Lena are going to hide in her panic room. I'm going to handle the threat." Taylor removed her handgun from her shoulder holster and checked the magazine on instinct.
"You— you can't be serious," Lena said, her voice trembling only a little. "I'm not just going to hide behind you from people sent to kill me."
"That's exactly what you're going to do," Taylor said. She glanced at Lena, and she felt herself soften for a moment. She saw the fear in Lena's gaze. She saw the concern.
Taylor wasn't used to people being worried for her safety. In the past, nearly everyone who cared about her was fighting alongside her. This was new territory.
"I'll be fine Lena," Taylor continued, speaking more softly. "You make the big bucks because you invent brilliant things and wrangle your shareholders. You pay Jess to manage your schedule and keep us all in line." Taylor spared a glance at the clearly terrified assistant who gave a shaky smile.
"And you pay me to stand in between you and anyone who wants to hurt you. So let me do my job," she finished. She looked Lena in the eye, trying to convey with her gaze that they would all be fine. Lena knew significant parts of her past. Lena knew she was capable.
Lena took a heavy breath and nodded.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. We'll wait in the panic room."
"Okay," Taylor said. "These men are here with a reason and a plan. They're organized. I'm going to try to leave enough of them alive to find out why, but I can't make any promises."
"You mean you're going to…" Jess trailed off, turning even paler. At this point Taylor honestly hadn't thought that was possible.
"I'm going to do what I need to so that the three of us go home today," Taylor said, ushering them towards the wall that hid Lena's safe room. Taylor had helped design it and given her own input. Even if these assassins somehow managed to get past her—which they wouldn't—they would never breach that room. A Kryptonian might find themselves having a hard time breaking through.
As Lena and Jess entered the room, Taylor spoke again.
"When the door closes, call 911. Don't open up for anyone but me."
"Got it. Call 911. Stay inside," Lena parroted. She seemed to have gotten control of herself—her mask was back up, and she was calm, collected Lena Luthor again.
"And Lena," Taylor said. "I know you have a screen in there connected to your office cameras. Please don't watch."
Taylor didn't know that she'd be able to do what she needed to if her friend was spectating.
Lena paused for a moment, but finally, mercifully, she nodded.
"Stay safe," Lena said. Then she closed the door and Taylor was left on her own in the office.
Taylor closed her eyes to center herself. The elevator had opened on their floor and the assassins were approaching her position. Taylor shook her arms out a little and flicked the safety off on her handgun. She let all of her emotional concerns drain out of her.
It was time for a fight.
What is it about the CW's trashy superhero shows that makes them irresistible?
This will be a mild AU on both the Worm and Supergirl ends, besides just the ramifications of having Taylor show up. I'm not going to just insert her into the plot and leave it as-is.
One of those AU elements is Tall!Taylor, because it entertains me. 5'10? Not in my story. Award Quote ReplyReport1857Account200216/8/2021Reader modeNewAdd bookmarkThreadmarks Threadmarks Chapter Two New Threadmarks Account200216/8/2021Add bookmark#2And here's chapter two, because I don't believe in cliffhangers. They are a sign of weakness and display a lack of honor.
Chapter Two
Satisfied that Lena and Jess were secure inside of the panic room, Taylor brought her gun up and faced the door to Lena's office. She wasn't quite as confident in her chances as she had told Lena, but it wasn't a problem—Taylor wouldn't be dying today.
Taylor was unwilling to utilize the full extent of her powers, for fear of revealing herself, but she wasn't entirely helpless. She hadn't been passive while coaxing Lena and Jess into hiding. Already, most of the assailants' guns were disabled, and she would be using her bugs to grant her preternatural aim. She also suspected that these would-be assassins weren't expecting much of a fight.
They proved Taylor right by bursting into the office with little caution. Moving quickly, Taylor snapped her gun up and put two bullets into the third man who came through the door. She hadn't been able to get enough bugs on his gun to feel confident about disabling it, so she wanted to take him out of play first—besides, she'd only told Lena that she'd try to leave some of them alive. She shot twice more at the door frame; these shots, and the quick death of their companion, sent the back three men recoiling into the hall. It bought Taylor a few moments to engage the other two.
They had already brought their rifles up and attempted to fire, but nothing happened when they pulled the trigger. Taylor had spent hours practicing on disabling various types of guns when she was with the Chicago Wards, and that training hadn't left her. The man closest to her had an admirable reaction time—he immediately dropped his rifle and reached for his sidearm.
Moving to close the distance, Taylor fired off two quick shots. One took off the man's thumb, and the other went through his foot. He let out a scream and fell forward, clutching his mangled hand. Before he had even hit the ground, Taylor caught the side of his head with a brutal kick that sent him slamming into the floor.
The man behind him was scrambling to unsheathe a knife, but Taylor's bugs had fastened the hilt to the sheathe with silk. Taylor used the barrel of her pistol to jab him twice right below the sternum, her prosthetic arm letting her use her full strength without fear of breaking her wrist. He doubled over, and Taylor grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee. Pushing her way past him, she struck him in the back of the neck with the butt of her gun.
Taylor turned towards the remaining assassins just in time to catch a fist to the side of her face. The blow sent her staggering back, and two more quick strikes hit her in the stomach. Taylor gasped in a breath, the wind knocked out of her. Using the bugs that she had placed on the attackers' bodies to gain a sense of the situation, Taylor realized that the other three men had entered the office and figured out that their guns no longer worked. One of them had charged her, and the other two were coming up on her left and right.
She couldn't let herself be surrounded. Unfortunately, she also wanted to take most of them alive. Taylor shot the man in front of her in the shoulder and then dropped her pistol to the ground. Bringing her arm up, she activated a special feature that Lena had installed for her. He screamed and fell back with a face full of pepper spray. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to rub at his face before clutching at his wounded shoulder.
Taylor immediately turned and lunged at the man on her left. He had managed to draw his knife, and he quickly slashed at Taylor's stomach. The blade easily cut through her shirt but skidded off of her spider silk bodysuit. Caught off-guard by her armor, he wasn't prepared for Taylor to viciously knee him in the crotch. He grunted and fell down onto one knee. Using her metal hand like a hammer, Taylor brought her fist down onto the man's head with so much force that she half-thought she heard his skull fracture. Whoops.
She spun around just in time to be tackled to the ground by the last assassin. Evidently he'd given up on trying to use his weapons and decided to overpower her with brute strength.
It wasn't a bad idea. Taylor was good in a fight and she'd inherited her height from her father, but unfortunately she'd also gotten his lean build. Her assailant was a big man and probably had over a hundred pounds on her—if he pinned her, she wasn't getting out of it.
Taylor's head hit the floor when they impacted the ground, and she let out a grunt as she was dazed. The man punched her in the face once, twice, and then while she was stunned he wrapped his hands around her neck.
Choking for air, Taylor jabbed him twice in the side. She couldn't get enough leverage to get a solid hit in, and he kept pressure on her airway. In a desperate gamble, Taylor grabbed the side of his face with her prosthetic hand.
One thing that Taylor had realized while living with a robot arm was that the movies got it all wrong. If you listened to Hollywood, people with metal arms could punch with superhuman strength, lift incredible weight, and even throw with amazing force. In her own experience, none of this was true. It didn't even really make sense.
Taylor's real right arm ended just above where her elbow used to be. When punching or throwing, people used their whole body. Taylor still had human hips, a human back, and a human shoulder. Sure, she could punch a little bit harder because she didn't have to worry about breaking her hand, but her strength was still very human—a strong, well-trained adult man could still surpass her with the actual force of his blows.
What a robot arm could enhance, however, was grip strength. The muscles that affected one's grip were all located below the elbow, and Taylor's hand and forearm were entirely mechanical.
So, Taylor grabbed the man's face and squeezed.
Taylor had seen a lot of injured people during her time on Earth Bet—and she had caused a lot of those injuries herself—but even she winced internally at the sound he made when his facial bones started splintering. Not to mention what it did to the man's eye.
He released his grip on Taylor's throat in order to clutch at his mangled face, and Taylor rolled his body off of her. She sucked in air desperately, trying to refill her lungs with heaving breaths. Through her bugs, she saw the man she had shot and pepper-sprayed staggering towards her.
Pulling herself to her feet, Taylor managed to get upright just before the man stumbled into her. He seemed to still be half-blind from the pepper spray, but Taylor knew from experience that people could fight through it. He bulldozed over her with his uninjured shoulder, sending her staggering backwards. She tripped over the legs of the still-sobbing man who had tried to strangle her, and she felt her back hit a wall.
Finding one last burst of energy, Taylor flung her human arm forward and jabbed the bullet wound in his shoulder. He recoiled in agony, and Taylor quickly grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall, half-expecting to send him right through it. Clearly Lena's wall's were made of sturdier material, because his face just thumped loudly on impact. Maybe she had accidentally found a stud.
The man was clearly in no condition to keep fighting, but Taylor kicked the back of his knee for good measure. Because of his position against the wall, his kneecap slammed into whatever unforgiving material Lena's building was made of. Taylor was a fighter, not an architect, but she could appreciate a well-built wall. Sheetrock wouldn't have even been half as effective as a bludgeoning tool.
Finally letting him fall to the ground, Taylor put her back to the wall and slid down. Exhausted, she took a moment to just sit next to the unconscious man.
Taylor grimaced as she brought a hand up to touch her split lip. She'd be covered in bruises tomorrow. Taylor wasn't as concerned with her image as she had been in her youth, but she wasn't looking forward to being photographed with a purpling face at Lena's renaming ceremony.
Just as Taylor started to stagger to her feet to let Lena know that she was safe, a blur of red and blue flew in through the balcony. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows, which had survived the fight unscathed, shattered under the impact of two Kryptonian bodies. Taylor sighed.
"Ms. Luthor—!" Supergirl cut off as she and her cousin took in the six dead or wounded men scattered around the office. Some of them were still groaning or crying in pain.
"If you're here to warn us about the assassins, we've been made aware," Taylor rasped through her injured vocal cords. Holding up a finger in the universal (or maybe not—what did she know, with two aliens right in front of her?) symbol for Give me a moment, she sucked in a painful breath before continuing: "And if you're here to fight me, do you think we can go one at a time? I'm not exactly fresh."
*****
"I'm fine," Taylor said, tilting her head away from the auburn-haired woman-in-black who was inspecting her injuries. To Taylor's frustration, the woman remained unaffected by her glaring and simply grabbed her jaw, forcing her head back into position.
"Ouch," Taylor said drily.
"You don't sound fine," Lena grumbled, glaring at Taylor. Taylor was even less affected than the FBI agent who was manhandling her.
Truthfully, Taylor was relieved that Lena seemed concerned about her. When she and Jess had emerged from the safe room and seen the carnage, Taylor had suddenly felt a moment of regret. The feeling had honestly frightened her at first—in the 18 months since she had become… since she had killed Scion, Taylor's life had been mostly peaceful. Sure, she had protected Lena a few times, and she had sparred with trainers to keep her skills up and to improve her martial arts technique, but it had been a long time since she'd been in a gruesome brawl like this one.
Deep down, in a part of her that she didn't want to admit existed, Taylor had enjoyed herself during the fight. It felt familiar—the contest, the battle, the life or death stakes. Just her body, her wits, and her will to survive pitted against a contender. An arena that only one side would walk away from.
And then Lena had taken in the bloodbath, her face turning pale as she raised a hand to cover her mouth. And Jess—poor Jess, who Taylor had evidently traumatized—had, from the look of things, very nearly made it to a wastebasket before losing her lunch. Which didn't help with the smell of the room at all.
And suddenly Taylor felt remorseful and afraid. She had ruined it—Lena, who had been so kind to her when Contessa had dumped her broken, traumatized body onto this Earth, would finally recognize her for the monster that she was.
The cold-blooded girl who had taken over a city and drowned her enemies on dry land, filling their lungs with insects.
The ruthless ex-villain who had turned her body into a weapon, and who had killed a child without hesitation.
The woman who took away the free will of an entire planet, and, when all was said and done, had nearly turned against the people she had given everything to protect.
"You don't sound fine," Lena repeated, her voice softer this time. "Are you sure you're okay?"
When Lena had looked over Taylor's handiwork and gasped, Taylor had thought she had lost her—she expected to be alone again. Hearing Lena ask after her wellbeing—hearing her voice filled with concern—filled Taylor with a warmth that she wasn't familiar with. She took more conscious control over the bugs that were currently clearing residue out of the sabotaged weapons, focusing on her swarm in order to push back her emotions. She didn't want to feel right now.
"Really, I'm good. It's just some minor strangulation," Taylor said, ignoring the pain in her throat and rolling her eyes for effect. She moved her head away from the agent again, and started to stand up.
"Woah, hold on there," the agent said, "Take it easy for a little while—you may have a concussion, to go with your 'minor strangulation.'"
"I've been concussed. I'm perfectly fine right now," Taylor said, but she allowed herself to sit back down. She winced as something pulled in her side; maybe it wouldn't be so bad to rest for a bit. Lena's office chair was very comfortable.
Lena was whisked away by another agent for questioning. Superman had flown off to do whatever it was that Kryptonians did when they weren't breaking expensive glass windows, but Supergirl had refused to leave. She stood as a sentinel out on the balcony, presumably keeping an ear on the building below.
"You've been concussed before, huh?" the agent said, keeping an eye on Taylor while half-turning to observe the scene.
Other agents were cataloging the damage or discussing their findings in hushed tones; the few comments she picked up through her bugs led Taylor to believe that there was more to this assassination attempt than she had originally realized. The assassins themselves had all been transported to a hospital. Taylor knew that at least two would go straight to the morgue.
"I've been around the block a few times," Taylor said casually.
"Seems that way. You took out all these guys by yourself, and what, came away with a beat-up face and a bruised throat?" The agent looked moderately impressed.
Taylor was admittedly a little flattered—she could tell this agent was no slouch, either, from the way she held herself and what Taylor could see of her arms. Still, like Taylor had told the woman—she wasn't new to the game. She could tell when she was being interrogated.
"I took a few hits to my ribs, too."
"A beat-up face, a bruised throat, and a few hits to your ribs?"
"They got a couple lucky shots in," Taylor said modestly.
The agent actually snorted at that, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Look, Agent…" Taylor trailed off, realizing she had no idea who she was talking to.
"Danvers," Danvers supplied. That sparked a sudden memory in Taylor's head. A timid, blonde not-reporter who had a frankly surprising set of abs. Taylor filed this observation away for now, choosing to move on.
"The answer is yes, Agent Danvers. I fought off these guys by myself. I'd offer to give a demonstration, but somebody claiming to be a medical professional recently informed me that I should 'take it easy.' I could be concussed, you know?"
"Claiming to be—" Danvers paused and took a deep breath, clearly drawing on some well-honed meditative techniques to prevent an indignant rant. Exhaling slowly, she spoke again:
"I see you've attended the Luthor school of evasive answering."
Taylor just smiled. The expression always felt odd—she had to use muscles that she wasn't familiar with. Unfortunately, Taylor could tell that Agent Danvers wasn't the type to give up so easily. This interrogation was going to continue.
Thankfully, they were interrupted by a commotion on the balcony. Taylor whipped around in her seat, alerted just a few moments before everyone else by the movement of the bugs she had placed on Supergirl. So far during the investigation, the Kryptonian had been standing as still as a statue—suddenly, she shot off like a bullet, arms outstretched to grab something that apparently only she could see.
A few moments later, Supergirl was inside Lena's office, arms and hands curled as if she were holding onto a moderately sized object. She presented her prize to Agent Danvers, whose face was contorted into a mixture of bemusement and exasperation.
"What's going on, Supergirl?" Danvers asked, all business.
"It was hovering just outside the balcony," Supergirl said, offering the invisible package forward for inspection. Unfortunately, no one but her could inspect it.
Raising an eyebrow, Taylor surreptitiously directed a small gnat to fly through the allegedly occupied space. It hit a wall of some kind—apparently, Supergirl had actually found something floating out on the balcony.
"What exactly is… it?" Lena asked. She had disengaged from her conversation and hastily made her way over when Supergirl rushed inside.
"Oh, right," Supergirl said, looking down at her hands and sounding almost sheepish, "I think it's, um, some kind of stealth drone? I couldn't see it until I used my X-Ray vision, and I only knew to look for it because it made a noise when it started to fly away. It's very quiet—I almost missed it even when it moved."
"Fascinating. Are your hands at the very edges?" Lena asked. When Supergirl nodded in confirmation, she continued: "That's incredible. To my knowledge, no scientist on Earth has yet been able to produce stealth technology so elegant. The power requirements alone, to say nothing of—"
"Is it armed?" Agent Danvers interrupted Lena. Taylor wouldn't admit it, but she appreciated the agent's readiness to ask the important questions. Lena could geek out later—first, they had to make sure it wouldn't kill them.
"I don't think so," Supergirl answered. "It does look like it has a camera of some kind attached."
Agent Danvers frowned, apparently displeased by this development. Taylor had the feeling that displeasure was one of her primary personality traits, but she could admit to sympathizing with her at the moment. There weren't any good reasons for Lena's office to be under observation by a nearly-undetectable surveillance drone.
Especially one which, given the current situation, seemed to belong to somebody other than a government organization.
"Take it to Agent Schott at our headquarters—have him see if he can disable the cloaking and figure out anything from the drone," Danvers ordered.
"Hold on, Agent. I have labs here—maybe I can take a look? You'll have your answers more quickly" Lena jumped in.
Taylor knew that Lena was far more interested in looking at the inside of that drone than she was in assisting a government agency, but she had to admire her pitch. It probably sounded genuine to anyone who didn't know her.
"I'm sorry Ms. Luthor, we have reason to believe this drone may be linked to an ongoing investigation," Agent Danvers apologized unapologetically.
"You mean the motive these men had for attacking Ms. Luthor today," Taylor said, beginning to connect the dots in her head.
When Agent Danvers didn't respond immediately, Taylor got even more suspicious. The Supers seemed to know someone was coming for Lena when they broke in through the windows. Either Lena or Jess had certainly called the police once they were in the safe room, but…
"The Venture explosion," Taylor said sharply, drawing the undivided attention of Lena, Danvers, and Supergirl. "You think Ms. Luthor may have been the target there too? These gunmen weren't an isolated incident—you think they're part of an ongoing plot?"
"A plot to kill me?" Lena narrowed her eyes at the agent.
Agent Danvers was predictably unruffled. Supergirl, however, folded surprisingly fast.
"Well…"
That isn't a cliffhanger, that's a cut-to-black. There's a difference!
This is most of what I have written right now. Should I have paced myself? Maybe. I plan to write more, so we'll see what happens.
I encourage feedback--feel free to call me any rude name you'd like!