Sliding down into the couch, Lena couldn’t help but groan silently.  These farling reunions were always the same.  But somehow, every year, she let herself be talked into coming. 

‘Come on, Leenie, it won’t be that bad.’ 

‘It’s only a week.  Seven days.  A mere nuisance to tolerate, when you make Pop-pop so happy.’ 

‘Don’t be such a selfish ginker, brat.  The only thing the ‘rents ask you to do, and you have to whine and carry on like it’s the end of the world.  Again.’ 

‘Please, Leenie.  If you don’t go, I won’t have anyone to talk to.  You’re the only sane one left.  Even Connor’s gone over to the Dark Side.’ 

Sibs.  It was so farling unfair.  Bad enough she had to be such a softy to the brood, but did Daddy and Pop-pop have to have so bleeping many?  It made having to say no to so many pleading eyes harder than an Atlantan tri-sponder. 

A tug on her sleeve had her turning her head reluctantly. 

“Right, Leens?” 

Damn.  Knowing she’d regret it, she asked warily, “About what?” 

Vivid, bright blue eyes widened innocently.  “Ah, come on, sis.  You don’t have to be so modest.  We’re among friends.” 

“Friends,” Lena stretched the word out slowly, tasting the word and clearly finding it wanting.  She pursed her lips, looking at Connor skeptically.  

“Sure,” Connor chirped brightly, smile twisting into the trademark Luthor smirk.  “You honestly can’t say I’m exaggerating, can you?” 

Looking at her baby brother--the manipulating little shit--she chuckled reluctantly.  He damn well knew she wasn’t paying one twink of attention towards him and his antics.  “Yes,” she echoed dutifully, “I can’t honestly say your exaggerating.” 

How could she?  She had no idea what tall tale he was trying to pass off among the lack wits around them.  Groans sounded all around her, even as the youngest of her sibs crowed triumphantly. 

“Ha!  See!”  Connor stood up and did a little dance, earning him an even number of laughs, jeers, and even a few catcalls from around the room.  “Face it, repos.  We so had the most harrowing kidnapping and rescue--” 

Great.  The bragging part of the evening had commenced.  Which kidnapping was the most harrowing.  Which rescue the most dramatic.  Which save the most daring.  And on and on and on.  It didn’t matter if you were the victim or the hero, it was all the same. 

A flash of red caught everyone’s attention, as a brash, if somewhat shaky voice cut in, “Not again,” Wally said dramatically, trying earnestly to straighten his hunched back.  “I leave for a few seconds, and this young buck starts in on the latest Luthor fairy tales.  We all know my family’s had the--” 

Bickering started breaking out, the elderly Flash and Connor going at it, each exalting on their family’s virtues and prowess, whether it be among the superhero community or civilian life.  As usual.  It had become somewhat of a tradition that Wally engage in a battle of wits with at least one member of the Kent-Luthor brood, and in recent years Connor had taken to the task with a glee that made Lena really wonder.  After all, what fun was it to battle wits with the witless, especially some ancient resop that should’ve passed into the Beyond years and years ago. 

Superheroes.  Defied the laws of nature every time. 

Well, okay.  And maybe supervillains, too.  After all, they had their share of both in the family tree.  But it was the former she now had to put up with on a yearly basis.  And just because Pop-pop liked to show off his family and had some weird nostalgic desire to remember the old days.  The very, very, very old days. 

Lena sighed again, mournfully.  Old people were so vexing.  Even old people as cool as Pop-pop. 

“Listen here, you young whipper snapper,” Wally rallied loudly, drawing Lena’s attention back to the spectacle taking place around her.  “I was rescuing my first hot babe before you were a concept in that twisted, freakishly large mass your father calls a brain.”  

All the young people in the group stirred, either staring at each other in confusion over what they assumed was supposed to be an insult--whipper snapper??--or rolling their eyes at one another in commiseration.  A few that understood the old vernacular, shivered at the old babe comment in horror.  It was one thing they all shared, a common bond not to be denied no matter their background or their occupations.  Dealing with parents usually meant being exasperated, humiliated, and embarrassed.  More than a few pitying glances were tossed towards the West branch of the room.  After all, they’d all been there at one point or another with their own elders. 

Lena really, really hoped Pop-pop wasn’t going to do anything too embarrassing this year.  Poor Billy.  At least neither of her fathers actually enjoyed making a spectacle of themselves.  But then, having the Flash as your father, maybe Billy and his sibs were used to it.  From what she’d heard, Wally had always been…larger than life. 

“It did so!” Connor bit out, enraged.  “Dad, set this son-of-a-Joker straight.  You really did take on the entire Kool Gang and rescued me single-handedly, didn’t you?” 

All heads turned towards a lone figure sitting alone on a sofa on the outskirts of their group.  A few moments of silence passed, and Connor prompted, “Dad?” 

“Please,” Wally said, waving his hand dismissively.  “As if baldy over there even heard you.  That fancy gizmo in his ear probably isn’t working again.  So much for all that LexCorp tech you Luthors are always going on and on about.” 

Connor’s gasp of outrage was overlapped by a cutting voice announcing dryly, “My hearing aid is working fine, I’m just not listening to you.” 

Wally’s eyes narrowed.  “Whatever, string bean.  Just because--” 

“Which is necessary for me to wear,” Lex went on, voice low, which caused everyone to lean in to hear the Luthor patriarch, “because of that little incident with Banshee.  You remember that, don’t you?  The one where a certain someone needed rescuing himself?” 

Lena blinked.  Huh.  What do you know.  It turns out that even when you were ancient, you could still blush. 

Somehow, she wasn’t surprised when Connor’s features smoothed out, a sweet smile spreading across his face as he walked over to their father.  Sweet smile, her ass.  That innocent look of her sib’s should be registered as a lethal weapon.  Sitting down and snuggling into Lex’s side, Connor set his head on an aging, yet still strong, shoulder.  

“Daddy,” Connor whispered in his I’m-still-the-baby-of-the-family voice.  The voice that guaranteed him a custom built Ferrari at sixteen, despite Pop-pop’s strenuous objections, not to mention the infamous spring break trip to Venus.  Dark curls whispered across the mauve silk shirt under his head, his cheek nuzzling into his father gently.  “Tell him you really did save me, just like I said.” 

Lex looked down, the visage still as noble and elegant as always, despite the lines and age spots that were just starting to finally make their mark.  His face softened into a look Lena knew well, a look that was only blessed upon her or her sibs, even as he sent a knowing, amused smirk at his youngest. 

“No,” Lex said thoughtfully, ignoring the little huff of outrage at his side.  It was a sound heard a lot in the Kent-Luthor household, one learned from the Kent part of the equation.  Leaning down slightly to place a kiss on the top of Connor’s head, he said firmly, “Not exactly as you said, since I seem to remember it wasn’t just Kool and his people.  He’d also hired out some thugs from Edge City, as well.” 

Connor shot Wally a triumphant look as he rewarded his father by wrapping his arms around him and hugging him freely in front of his peers. 

Lena shook her head, sinking back down into her seat.  Connor had no shame.  The others might call her the brat, but if you looked up spoiled brat online, you’d see multiple links to Connor Kent-Luthor.  There was probably a site dedicated purely to him.  Of course, somehow, she had a feeling that if there was, Connor probably had a cut in whatever profits the site made.  He was a Luthor, after all.  She’d expect no less. 

“Lex, are you teasing Wally again?” 

Most everyone turned towards the latest booming voice, and colorful figure, to join this corner of the room.  She couldn’t help wincing a little, the form-fitting blue spandex-like material conforming in ways that weren’t meant to do so on the aged.  Not that Pop-pop was as bad off as some, but still.  A little decorum wouldn’t be amiss. 

But it made Pop-pop happy, so she supposed it wasn’t that bad.  It was only once a year.  Absolutely, positively.  She could handle anything when it was only once a year. 

She repeated this to herself often, at these reunions. 

Stupid sibs.  Next year, she was definitely NOT coming, no matter how Connor batted his eyelashes, or Lily begged, or Jamie bullied, or Mary rationalized.  Collin’s hugs and silver tongue wouldn’t sway her.  Aileen’s bribes wouldn’t tempt.  And Cara’s nagging about ‘the right thing’ wouldn’t wear down her resistance.  Not a single one of the brood would talk her into. 

Though…it did make Pop-pop so happy. 

Looking over at him, she was met with empty space.  No beaming smile.  No green eyes twinkling with joy.  No red cape, swishing around a bright, bright blue form.  No Pop-pop. 

With dread, she looked over at Connor. 

There, on Lex’s other side, was Pop-pop.  Kissing her Dad.  In front of everyone.  She sank into her seat even more.  She didn’t care is she was a full grown adult, the CEO of the largest business empire in the Milky Way, or the whispered-about potential candidate for the Earth Sphere presidency.  Her elderly, supposedly dignified saviors-of-the-Earth-multiple-times-over parents were kissing.  Again.  In public. 

Pop-pop was such a bad influence. 

Meeting Connor’s gaze, they both shook their heads, acknowledgment exchanged and understood.  ‘Rents.  So embarrassing. 

Thank the gods they only had two more days left to go.

END