fandomhighdorms | The gym, Sunday afternoon

In her dubious defense, New Year's weekend had been party time, and Kennedy had neglected her training for those few days. But now that they were back, it was time to pick up the slack.

"Yo, Dinah," she called, waving as she dumped her gym bag on the floor and dug through it for the hand wrappings.

"Hey, Kennedy," Dinah said, popping back up like a jack-in-the-box from a forward roll. "How's your weekend going?"

"Nice reflexes." Kennedy, already eyeing the speed bag, started winding the wrap around her knuckles. "Pretty good. Got saddled with a little sibling at the picnic yesterday and the world didn't explode, so I'm calling it good. How'd it go for you?"

"Enh." Dinah paused, then shook her head. "My brains are still settling back from implosions. Met two guys I know in alternate universe ways, and it killed my head." She did a one-handed cartwheel, and bounced on her toes. "Waaaay too much to think about. Working out is way easier."

Kennedy grinned. "There's a beautiful simplicity to hitting things, isn't there? I have yet to meet anybody I know in some crazy way like that. Can I just say I'm glad it's you and not me?"

Oh. Oh, if you only knew, Kennedy.

"Pbbbbttt," Dinah said, grinning cheerfully. "You know, I thought I had a handle on this? Because I ran into a guy who looks like someone back home. And because I ran into an enemy-type way early last year. It is so, so much weirder when it's someone you're supposed to be really close to, somehow. I pity the Skywalkers, I really do." She shook her head. "But hitting things, all the way. Yes!" And a roundhouse kick to the bag.

"Well, you're here hitting things, and not in a corner rocking back and forth, so you're doing okay," was Kennedy's oh so expert assessment as she headed over to the speed bag and started in on it. "Oh, hey, I should introduce you to my new little sibling sometime, since I'm all about encouraging the love of ass-kicking, and making sure that gets spread around."

"Cool. Who's your new little sib?" Dinah asked, feeling a bit encouraged by the assessment, expert-or-non as it was. "They already have experience, or looking to get started?"

"We bonded over people being on our case to keep up with training, so I think it's safe to say she does." Kennedy sent a quick flurry of punches-- not as fast as she wanted but she could work on that-- at the bag, then paused. "Her name's Dru. She's kinda like me, so you'd probably like her."

Yes. Witness Kennedy's amazing sense of modesty at work yet again.

Dinah smirked at her, amused, and teased, "Rich and insanely confident and stubborn? Or just likes kicking ass a lot?"

Kick to the other side of the bag, hard enough to send it swinging.

"Hey." One good solid punch to the speed bag, and Kennedy scowled playfully at her; she'd heard all of those first three things often enough that they didn't even bother her any more. "Quit acting like any of that's a bad thing."

Dinah held up her hands in surrender, and said, "Like anyone doesn't want to be rich and confident?" She grinned. "Fortunately I don't have to work at the stubborn thing." Another forward jump-kick, sending the bag back at Kennedy. Dinah landed back on her feet, and started to pace back and forth for another opening. "So what's your new kid's story?"

"Duh." Kennedy sort of took it as a given that obviously, everyone wanted to be her. "Who, Dru? She had no clue this wasn't your garden-variety boarding school, but she didn't spaz at me when I told her we had classes on magic and stuff. That was a relief. If she'd gone all freakazoid on me over it I don't think I could've dealt."

"She lucked out, then," Dinah teased again. "That you're willing to accommodate her so far." She grinned and side-kicked the bag. "So she knows about magic, can she do any?"

"Didn't really ask about that, and hey. I am accommodating. I am so accommodating!" Kennedy focused on the speed bag again and hit it with another round of quick punches, pleased to have picked up a tiny bit of speed this time. "'course she lucked out. She got me, even though it wasn't my call to do the whole thing in the first place."

"How did that happen? The moose in the office again?" Kick, kick, kickity-kick, bending the knee so she kept her balance and repeatedly connected with the bag. "But yeah, if you and Dru want to do some sparring, especially 'til Fight Club's back up again... sometimes I want a break from that, more training than just fighting. Sometimes."

"What, do you have to ask?" Kennedy demanded. "Thought that much was freakin' obvious. Nah, it was my Watcher's idea. I guess she thought it'd be good for me or something. I think my class schedule this semester's the moose's fault, though, because what the hell good is a class on love and romance going to do me?"

"Tell me," Dinah muttered. "I didn't sign up for that one. I wanted Professor Atreides' class." She so, so didn't want to deal with Hollywood ideas of happily-ever-after right now. "Your Watcher?" She blinked at Kennedy, trying to remember if she'd ever heard her mention that person before. "Wait, who's that?"

"Oh, um." Well, crap. What the hell? It wasn't like she was dealing with people who lived in denial like it was the ultimate Miami Beach retirement destination here. "She's my mentor, basically. She's in charge of my training and all that. Also a massive pain in my ass and in need of some serious loosening-up."

Despite the words, there was clear affection there, if somewhat mitigated by Kennedy's slight eyeroll.

Dinah smirked, recognizing that attitude, because hi, Barbara the Workaholic. "Yeeeah. So, you're training for something specific?" she couldn't help but ask. Then, thinking over the weekend, she dryly added, "And telling me it's need-to-know is fine."

To her credit, Kennedy actually weighed the options for a good several seconds before shrugging. "Oh, you know. Vampire-slaying business. Which is not all that special around here," she added with a hint of annoyance.

"Really?" Maybe not around here, but Dinah was still impressed. "Wow. That's-- I mean, I turned into a vampire, that one weekend. Wait, that's the kind you slay, right? Not the harmless kind? And they have actual training for that?"

"There are harmless ones?" Give her a couple of years, Dinah. "And yeah. Where I come from, yeah, there's like centuries of tradition and stuff. Oh, you're not really supposed to know about that, either, but what the hell."

Well, come on, a Potential had to have some way of feeling kind of special around this place.

"That's pretty cool," Dinah said, a little more hyper-aware of the Traditions of Superherodom after this weekend. Not that it went back centuries. "And, well, I know of two that are civilized, anyway, even if I don't think I'd call either of them harmless. But they aren't crazy killers like the one I turned into. And how long have you been training for this? And how'd you get picked? Dude, you've been holding out." She paused. "Which I totally get, but yeah."

"Ten years," Kennedy replied, and despite the possible badassitude one could read into that claim, a slight frown crossed her face for a second; ten years was a damn long time to be waiting, and she could practically see her chances slimming. "That's when my Watcher showed up and dropped that bomb. Well... not Constance. I didn't want some stuffy old guy breathing down my neck all the time so I kind of threw a fit, and got her instead."

She grinned unrepentantly, if a little forcedly. "It's no big, though."

It so was. But it was also a sore spot.

"So you've been training since you were in kindergarten? Wow." Put another person in the 'more time training than Dinah' column. And it *was* a big, and Kennedy had to know it. "And yeah, I wouldn't want a stuffy-old-guy trainer either. Constance can kick ass, I'm guessing?"

"Since I was six, so yeah, pretty much."

Kennedy snorted, because the phrase 'kick ass' was not one she ever associated with Constance in all her aloof decorum despite the fact that she knew damn well her Watcher could handle herself pretty well. "Oh, she knows her stuff, but I don't know if I'd go that far. Mostly she tells me what to do, writes up my training schedule, and lectures at me."

Yes, because Kennedy listened to that so well.

It was so a big. And it was the only big she couldn't seem to get by bitching someone out, or getting Dad to throw money at it, or pestering someone until they gave in.

"So when does she decide you're ready?" Dinah asked, curious. "I mean, do you have to pass some kind of trial, like Zayne's Jedi stuff?"

Dammit. Kennedy sighed. "It doesn't work like that, exactly. I probably shouldn't be talking about it."

She really shouldn't have said anything in the first place, in retrospect. Backpedaling to avoid embarrassment, while necessary, was Not Fun.

Dinah held up her hands in surrender. "No worries. I get that it's supposed to be secret." She sighed, letting her hands drop, then kicking the bag hard. "I kind of screwed up with that, telling people stuff about my life, and it almost bit me badly this weekend, with the new people who came in. Secrets are necessary, sometimes."

"'cause of the crazy universe bendiness?" Kennedy guessed, and took a half-hearted swing at the speed bag. "I just got sick of having to sit on all that stuff my whole life. Telling people Constance was, like, my private music tutor and crap like that got really old really fast, you know? But noooooo, people'd think I was crazy if I was straight-- totally metaphorically speaking there-- with them."

She squared up against the bag and launched another punch, this one a lot harder and dead on. "Necessary, but sometimes they really freaking suck."

"Yeah, that," Dinah said glumly. "And see, that's why I told a few people stuff ... which I can't tell you," she added, snorting. "Because I hated that my best friends didn't know things that were really important to me. Unfortunately, I didn't exactly say, SHHHHH, SEEEECRET enough. Gah." She gave Kennedy an assessing look, readjusting her image of her a bit. Some of the cockiness made more sense now. "But, hey. At least we know that there's something more, right?"

"It's something," Kennedy conceded, and she was doing a little readjustment here too, covering it up by swinging at the bag again. "Go us, with the knowing."

"The more you know," Dinah sang out, and then, "The closer you come to ultimate power. Muahahahaah."

The gym, Sunday afternoon

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