Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Kara, honey, are you home yet?” Lena called out as she kicked off her heels and balanced the bags of take out in her arms.

The quiet of the penthouse greeted her as she hurried toward the kitchen. As she turned on the lights, the city outside disappeared from the large windows. Their home became its own universe, with just the faintest bit of galaxy outside.

The dog shakes as he wakes from his nap in his bed, the tags on his collar jingling as he hurries toward his owner and the smell of food.

“Hi buddy, working hard today?” the CEO teased, reaching a hand down to rub soft, velvety ears.

Before they even got married, Lena remembered the day Kara showed up with a scraggy, matted mutt in her arms under the pretense of finding him tied up and abused and in need of a home because the shelter was closed so late.

Two baths, three vet visits, six weeks, and two sets of pouty puppy dog eyes later, Lena had to relent. The truth of it was, she felt safer with the monstrosity of a dog that big-pawed puppy turned into almost overnight. Freddy was a sweetheart who couldn’t even be bothered to chase a butterfly, who got yapped at by tiny dogs at the dog park and took it with his tail between his legs, but who had a bark that was absolutely terrifying.

“Give me a few and we’ll go walk,” she promised as he sniffed and nudged her hip with his huge nose. “Remember when Kara brought you home and said I’d never even notice?”

All she got was a floppy tongue and wagging tail.

In the hall, a few pairs of heels were a disgruntled little mountain. Pictures were hung with pride. Lena took great pains to make sure that her home was filled with pictures of their escapades. Vacation snapshots, candids from brunches, their wedding, birthdays, Saturdays at the cabin, holidays with the hodgepodge of a family they created for themselves. All of those moments were glimpses, and Lena loved catching them from time to time.

Arms finally emptied, the CEO fired off a quick text and began digging for glasses and plates, preparing the spread that her wife would absolutely make sure there were no leftovers.

On days that she beat Supergirl home, Lena almost felt like a good wife. Most of the time, that was an abstract and fleeting feeling. But something about bringing dinner and already being changed into something more comfortable felt like a victory, she realized as she changed out of the skirt and shirt that made her feel too stiff to be home.

It wasn’t that she was a terrible wife, just that she always thought she could be better. A perfectionist in every aspect of her life, despite Kara’s reassurances, Lena hated the occasional long stretch of hours that kept her crawling into bed too late, completely missing an entire day of any meaningful conversation with her already snoring wife.

The dog got his walk, and already found his way to the couch, not even pretending to listen to the no furniture rule. Lena gave up because she secretly taught him that despite always sassing her wife about it.

There was a rule in their house, that dinner was to be a time with no work, but when Kara didn’t respond to her text, Lena took it as her chance to pull up some notes and scroll through them while the television played the end of the basketball game she’d wanted to catch.

When she still didn’t hear from Kara and the food had grown cold enough to be boxed up and put away, when the bottle of wine was half gone, when the television switched to infomercials instead of anything valuable, Lena sent another text and waited.

Even when she was explicitly busy with Supergirl stuff, Kara made sure to text, and that was what kept Lena from losing her mind some nights. Somewhere between fretting and debating, she fell asleep on the couch, curled up on one corner as tight as she could. It was the quiet turning of a key in the door that woke her.

“Hey,” Kara smiled as she closed the door behind her. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“You didn’t text. I was worried,” Lena yawned and furrowed, staring fixedly at the bundle in her wife’s arms. “What’s that?”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Whenever you start any conversation with those words, I always end up mad, Kara.”

Separated by the living room, by an entire day, by a looming conversation, each looked at the other, silently pleading for it to go easily. Their tiny prayers were only interrupted by the tiniest of gurgles and rumblings of complaint from Kara’s arms.

Still exhausted from the hard life, Freddy raised his head and whined before realizing he was safe to stay there and not get involved.

“Just let me explain.”

“Don’t you do this to me, Kara,” Lena shook her head, short and quick, her finger pointing at the bundle. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s just until morning. She was left on a train. Just left there. I’ve called a social worker already, and first thing in the morning–”

“Kara…”

It was the sorest of subjects; probably their only fight. The image was a dream to Lena– her wife holding a baby, all perfect and beautiful and happy. It was something she never let herself imagine because it kept being snatched away from her.

Kara knew about the Luthor parents. She heard bits and pieces of Lena’s childhood, and it couldn’t have been farther from her own experiences with both of her sets of parents. It bred a kind of apprehensiveness in the heir to the fortune and name. Motherhood was probably the scariest thing to Lena, and that was saying a lot.

And then they reached a point, the point, the place that seemed hopeful. And they tried, because Lena could be fearless for Kara, the girl who swooped in and gave her hope and made her think she could be better, who gave her a better name, who made her a better person. They wanted the same thing, somehow.

Deep below her fear, she wanted nothing more than to be a mother. And they sat at the doctors and they got the results and they tried for a year and that didn’t work. It took another year to convince Lena to adopt. And when they were two days away from their own, the mother pulled out. Kara found Lena in the nursery they’d spent months decorating, quietly boxing everything up.

“It’s not. It’s not anything like that. It’s… She just– I had to do something.”

“I have to take the dog out,” Lena lied. “Come on, Fred.”

With a few taps against her thigh, the lumbering oaf slid off of the couch and pranced around, finally moving toward Kara, nudging her hands, nudging the blankets in her hand, the diaper bag on her shoulder.

All Kara could do was watch it happen, watch Lena slip on a coat and gab the leash. She didn’t give a second glance to the infant, she didn’t meet her wife’s eyes again before the door closed and she made her way out into the hall.

“Believe it or not, that went better than expected,” Kara hummed to the tiny thing in her arms.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A normal walk, depending on weather, was around the block, or possibly up toward the park. Lena kept walking in circles. Every time they approached the entrance to their building, Freddy would veer toward the doors he knew so well, toward Pete the overnight doorman with the treats in his pocket, and every time, Lena would decide they needed just one more lap.

It wasn’t just a baby. Kara had hope, and Lena could see it the moment she entered the house. This was her fix all, her quick fix, her heroic streak.

Three hours, Lena meandered around the city, growing angry and then calming herself, getting upset and then being amused by fate and the future. Carefully she oscillated back and forth between every feeling that she worked so hard to keep very, very bottled up.

She unlatched the dog and paused at the door as he padded into the kitchen, slurping up water with his tags hitting the edge.

On the couch, Kara dozed with her foot gently rocking a swing left over from the last time they babysat their nephews. She sat up quickly at the noise of her wife returning.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” Lena offered.

“Wait, Lee, please,” she stood, careful to avoid the sleeping infant.

“I don’t want to do this. One night. That’s it.”

“I didn’t mean for it to hurt you. This isn’t… it’s not… She was…”

“Kara.”

“Can I explain?” Kara asked, hands on her hips.

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Someone discarded her. Left her on the train with a bag of supplies and a note. I stopped that train from speeding off the track. She hasn’t even gotten a chance yet, Lena. It’s just for one night.”

“It’s not just for one night!” she finally yelled the truth. “You saw her and you thought it was a quick fix and that this was our chance. But we don’t get a chance, Kara! I don’t get a chance. It isn’t working out for us and I’m sorry, but–”

A loud scream erupted from the swing, upset by the noise. Little fists waved as eyes stayed shut, knit tightly together as a toothless mouth warbled.

“I wasn’t thinking anything,” Kara mumbled. “Except to give her a safe place for the night. I’m sorry, Lena.”

Fumbling, Kara looked away as the noise continued. She picked up the infant and held her close to her chest, gently cradling her head and bouncing slightly. The baby kept screaming though, crying against a world in which she was abandoned for just existing, a world in which she didn’t even yet fathom how terrible things could get.

“Can you…?” Kara moved, though Lena recoiled slightly. “Can you just hold her? I haven’t gotten her to eat yet. I’m going to try to make another bottle.”

“I’m not… that’s. You know I’m not good with little… I mean. The boys are older. I haven’t.”

Her wife shook her head and looked, wide-eyed and full of terror at the weeping baby. A shock of black hair curled almost behind an ear. Little fists beat with no force at Kara, looking for more support, more something.

“It’s just like with Noah when he was younger,” Kara promised, reminded Lena of how much time they spent with Alex and Maggie’s little ones.

“I didn’t pick him up til he was four!” she argued.

“Come on,” she smiled. “Here.”

Very delicately, they passed the baby. Lena clutched hat her and got that first whiff of baby that intoxicated her beyond reproach. Naturally, her hands moved to where they needed to be, and they rubbed the onesie and she cooed close to her ear.

“It’s not a diaper thing?” she asked, looking at Kara quickly.

“I changed her just a bit ago. Let me go get a bottle ready.”

“Wait. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m just going to the kitchen,” she chuckled. “Sit down on the couch. Relax.”

“What’s her name?”

The screams wavered and became just whimpers.

“She hasn’t told me yet,” Kara called from the kitchen. “I’ve been calling her Rosie. I found her at the Roseland Street station.”

Freddy hopped up on the couch and curled into his corner after sniffing at the youngest inhabitant. Her hair got inhaled slightly with his huge breath. All Lena could do was try to not look at her. If she looked at those eyes, and if she saw that nose and those cheeks, she would start to want one again, and that was a process that broke her down so hard she wasn’t sure she’d been rebuilt.

If this was Kara testing her, she was ready to fail and move on with her life.

And then she peeked. She looked down and wiped the wet cheeks and leaned forward to grab a towel and dry nose. Calm, peaceful eyes stared back at her, glassy and ready to go again with the slightest provocation.

“I didn’t bring her here to hurt you, Lena,” Kara mumbled as she finally made her way back into the living room. She took a seat on the coffee table and handed over the fresh bottle. “I know what trying did. It was… it was hard on both of us, to have our hopes raised and crushed so often. And then… when we lost our shot, when she changed her mind. I just. I know you’re not ready. I can’t say I am either.”

From the coffee table she watched Lena give the baby the bottle and smiled to herself. It was so natural and easy. Tiny hands held Lena’s fingers as she held the bottle. All Lena could do was smile to herself at the motion.

“I’m sorry,” Lena finally met her wife’s eyes.

“I know I’m the one that… Everyone thinks I just let things roll off of me, but that’s not true. It was hard. It’s been a hard few years in that department. But we try. We keep going. That’s what we do.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I saw a baby, and my first thought was what you probably looked like being picked up on the steps of a fire house. I couldn’t…” Kara shook her head and looked down at her knotted hands. “I couldn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe for the night. I was trying to pay back baby you, I think.”

“Kara, it’s fine,” Lena let out a long, deep breath.

“And maybe I did have a little hope. It was nice to believe in a miracle for a moment, that fate just finally gave us something good,” she proposed. “After all of it, how hard it’s been. Wouldn’t it be nice if it was just… easy.”

“One night,” her wife reminded her.

“What would you say, if this was an option?”

“Kara, please.”

“Hypothetically.”

“Honestly, honey, I’m too tired for even those tonight.”

With a sad smile that she tried to hide the sadness from, Kara nodded and rubbed her wife’s knee absently. Half asleep again and still eagerly drinking the bottle, the baby didn’t know what it needed more, just that it was ridiculously comfortable and happy in the set of arms it found.

“One night,” Kara chuckled softly.

“One night,” Lena repeated, a little more stern.

“That’s funny.”

“Why?”

“It’s just… that’s what you told me, the first night I stayed over,” the hero remembered, earning a slight frown from the woman who married her.

“That’s not true,” Lena whispered.

“We’d hooked up a few times, but never slept over. And one night, it was snowing, and cold, and I started to get dressed and you grumbled in that way you do when you’re super comfortable in bed and don’t want to get up in the morning,” she explained. Lena gave her an unamused look. “And you told me to stay. And I definitely agreed. I wasn’t going to pass that up. And I turned off the light, and you told me just one night. We weren’t going to do that thing, that dating thing. One night, snow storm special.”

“I was already in love with you, so that doesn’t count.”

“And you said the same thing when I brought a puppy home who was covered in dirt and was barely able to stand,” Kara reminded her. “You told me he got one night.”

“How am I supposed to say no when you’re begging and he was begging?” she accused, nudging her head at the slumbering beast on the couch. “I’m human.”

“I just think it’s funny that you try to keep out good things, but secretly want them to stay is all.”

“This isn’t like those.”

“I know,” Kara shrugged. “She’s cute, huh?”

“She is.”

“She likes you.”

“I don’t know about that. She probably likes eating.”

“You’re a natural.”

“You think?”

Lena’s face lightened slightly at the nice words. She softened as she looked at the nearly sleeping baby in her arms.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you this, yet.”

“I have you. We have a family. That’s already more than I ever thought to dream of,” Lena assured her, handing the bottle over as she brought the baby back to her chest and gently tapped her back, waiting for the burp.

Kara didn’t try to disagree, though she wanted to apologize for being busy, for not doing more, for not trying harder, for not reminding Lena that she could have the entire universe if she just asked. But Kara loved her because she would never ask for anything close to that. She would never ask for anything.

There was no use trying to get the baby back. Lena was on a roll and she was already nearly sleeping again. Kara pushed herself up from the coffee table to kiss her wife’s forehead before rinsing out the bottle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Nearly a week after her one night only, Lena woke to an empty bed. The overcast sky lingered through the curtains, casting the room in all manner of grey and disinterest in being anywhere other than under the covers. For a long second, Lena stretched, long as she could in the big, empty bed. It was early, she knew, but it was definitely too early for her wife to be awake willingly.

Only when she yawned and rolled over did she catch sight of something she wanted to keep forever. RIght there, gazing out of the window with a tiny, ball of a onesie and deep black hair, her wife held the baby tight, rested her chin on her head, and napped in the chair there. Both breathed softly together.

Lena didn’t move or get up or even lift her head. Instead, she just laid on her side and watched them together.

With a tiny yawn, the baby nuzzled deeper into Kara’s neck while a gentle hand rubbed her back. The onesie was one that had little lions on it. Lena picked it out, and Rosie looked adorable in it, though Lena refused to have those thoughts. She refused to think about how perfect Kara looked, long legs stretched, old, ratty shirt, arms wrapped around the baby, hair in a mess.

It was just one night, seven nights ago. Now it was becoming part of their life.

When the baby started to move, Lena finally pushed herself out of bed, her wife tired from staying up at all hours, probably just falling asleep recently.

“Come on, little lady,” she cooed, letting her wake slowly as they moved toward the living room. “Let’s let Supergirl sleep a little longer.”

Not entirely well versed with different types of Babies, Lena was under the impression that this little girl was perhaps the most perfect thing that had ever existed. She was always eager to giggle, always smiling, never one to yell or cry too often, she didn’t mind playing quietly, and more than that, she could be seen thinking, always thinking. As far as babies went, Lena was convinced she had to be smarter than most.

“I can’t believe someone just gave you up,” Lena shook her head and put her in the little high chair they borrowed from Alex.

Rosie didn’t say anything, just watched her move and twirled the pacifier in her mouth.

It was a serious conversation that absolutely hurt. Kara could see the pain in her wife’s eyes when she finally agreed. It was a long debate late into the night with the hero promising everything she could promise that this was it. This was their chance and they hadn’t missed it.

To her credit, she managed to stay good on her promises, that they wouldn’t take Rosie away, that they could get the paperwork done, that there was no way the social worker would think they weren’t a good family.

After a few months and the ongoing proceedings, Kara could see that Lena was starting to fall for the little girl. It was a beautiful thing to watch. Sometimes, when she wasn’t looking, Kara would watch Lena laugh and sneak kisses. She would catch her offering to take the baby with her to work, and she would put her to sleep, rocking her and whispering nerdy science things to her until she was out like a light.

Kara had been right all along, that Lena would be a natural. Even with the worry of possibly being hurt again, she stepped up and dove.

Her bag was the first thing she hung up, quickly followed by shoes being kicked off. Kara strained her ears and listened to the quiet of the house until paws clacked and greeted her. Coming home was a new experience, lately. Before, it was always kisses from Lena, and a big puppy crawling up onto her shoulders. Now, she was just always excited to see what her little family was doing and to interject herself into it.

“Where are they, buddy?” she asked, rubbing his sides and his back, earning not much in the form of an answer.

Kara smiled and looked through the kitchen, found nothing at all in the living room. There were toys and stuffed animals on the floor, a bouncer beside a stack of papers and Lena’s open laptop. Every day, there was something new added to the collection because Lena was addicted to baby things, always taking Kara’s knowing look with a shrug stating that where the baby went, she would need things. It was purely practical.

With her ear strained, she quickly followed the noises that told her where her wife had ventured.

The water wasn’t especially high, and the bubbles obscured much of it, but sitting in the bath, Lena chatted to the baby who giggled, balanced on her legs. A soft cloth ran along her chest while a little pile of bubbles slicked her hair. Big brown eyes were filled with this kind of happiness that seemed otherworldly. A naturally happy baby, Rosie enjoyed her time with them.

“The problem is that we just can’t find the proper spot to place the receptors so that there is universal and unrestricted access to the nerve endings. Our sensors are limited to the reactions they can create, but they can’t find any,” Lena explained. “The code is flawless, but as you’ll find out, what happens in a lab is so much different than what happens in real life.”

Hair up in a sloppy bun, Lena wore only the necklace Kara gave her on their first anniversary, something that was never taken off since. Kara fell in love with the pale of her shoulders, with the freckles that stayed there, living and slumbering contentedly. She was in love with the woman who didn’t know any bedtime stories or lullabies, but instead recited advanced theories of quantum mechanics when the baby couldn’t sleep.

“Did I stumble into the Research and Development meeting?” Kara finally chuckled.

“I’m thinking of conducting all important meetings in the bath now, actually,” Lena smiled. The baby spotted Kara and cooed, happily splashing. “We were going to be done and in our jammies by the time you got home, but it ran late.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“What do you think, little wild girl?” she asked the baby who smiled. “I guess it’s unanimous.”

Even without superspeed, Kara was joining the pair in no time at all, much to the delight of her wife.

“Hi, munchkin,” she cooed, taking the baby as Lena passed her once she settled. “Any reason why bathtime is so early today?”

“Fred keeps taking it upon himself to make sure she’s clean.”

“Slobber bath,” Kara nodded, witnessing a few of those herself.

“And I might have spilled a lot of coffee on myself earlier.”

“Ah. There it is. Two sloppy girls lazing away in the bath.”

Lena smiled and settled back, watching Kara kiss the baby’s cheeks, carefully crafted her a soap beard, loved her so big and wide it was spectacular. She fought against every second until the water grew colder and they were forced to rinse and get out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“That one’s from us,” Maggie smiled as Lena carefully took the package and opened it.

Beside her, Kara held the pile of gifts their friends had already gotten them for the impromptu baby shower the day after the papers were signed. Their apartment was already overrun with toys and clothes and all manner of baby accessories, but it was the thought.

Somewhere in the circle, their daughter bonded with her new grandmother.

“My moms are super,” Lena read, stifling a laugh. The emblem of the hero was bold and bright on the blue onesie. “That’s cute.”

“It’d say something about LCorp, but Luthor doesn’t make a good pun.”

“I can’t wait for the day that you stop buying us Supergirl-themed gifts,” the CEO rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Kara disagreed. “I like it.”

“You would.”

Kara shrugged and leaned over to kiss her wife.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Where’s Mommy?” Lena cooed as she wove through the offices of CatCo. The baby chattered and giggled, earning kisses on her cheek. “Uh oh! Look who we found. There she is!”

“Hi!” Kara smiled so big when she looked up from her desk, her wife was certain she broke her cheeks completely. “This is a nice surprise. My two favorite girls in the universe.”

“We thought a Danvers family lunch was much needed. And the weather is so nice,” Lena explained, earning a kiss before the baby was usurped from her arms.

“Hi pretty girl. Have you been good for Mommy?” Kara smiled and blew raspberries, earning giggles. “Of course you have because you’re perfect and I love you.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s about to talk. Any day now.”

“She’s six months old. Those are just sounds.”

“Nope, I’m telling you. She’s brilliant,” Lena disagreed, leaning her chin on Kara’s shoulder. “Today she most certainly said dog.”

“Are you sure she didn’t say Freddy, too?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re right. What was I thinking?”

Lena kissed Kara’s shoulder through her shirt and earned another on her temple. Sure enough, the baby drew a small crowd as people clamoured to see the newest Danvers, complimenting how big she’d gotten in the week since they’d last seen her. Big brown eyes stayed mostly tracked on the moms.

“What’s so funny?” the CEO asked, her arms wrapped around Kara’s chest as they finally escaped the building and found the beautiful spring day awaiting them.

“Just that your track record for that ‘one more night’ threat is still at zero percent effective.”

“Thank goodness,” Lena decided.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, June 19th, 11:49 pm.

Kara wrote the time and date down in her journal because she knew one day she would have to know that information. At some point in the distant future, she would want to look back and just know the exact moment she met the love of her life.

It seemed a bit reckless and silly to anyone else, but Kara knew, right there. She couldn’t articulate how she knew, and she couldn’t really put a finger on why she could feel that this girl was it, that the world was suddenly different and things would never be the same. But she knew it all the same.

As soon as she got home from the party, she sat at her desk and pulled out the tattered journal and wrote down the time, and she wrote down every single detail she could remember.

There are often moments that defy all logic, that defy history and time and space and common sense. Kara only felt, deep within herself, that she would need to know every single detail of that moment, as if she could have ever forgotten it, but still. She wrote.

She wrote that some band was playing a song with a steady guitar rhythm and one of those airy kind of synth atop it, and his voice was not warbly, nor was it much without the aid of the synth applied to it. And that it was a song that she never heard before and it asked her what awaits her and who was waiting up for her in an breathy kind of chorus that climbed and faded in the right places. It wasn’t a romantic song, but it was everything to her because everything else was drowned out.

Kara scribbled as quickly as she could, often closing her eyes and replaying it, dissecting every moment as a smile spread across her face, and when she thought she forgot something, she placed her hand against her own chest and found her heartbeat that was the bass line to that song she’d never find again.

Her friend had been telling her something, and she told him she was heading to the bar. That was it. It was the car crash that defined the rest of her life.

She wrote that she saddled up to the crowded bar and didn’t look at the girl beside her until she did, and then it was quiet. It didn’t matter that CatCo was packed inside for the launch of some new publication, or that too many people had been invited. It only mattered that she took a second look at the girl beside her who didn’t even notice, but who only sighed when the bartender ignored her once again.

“Thirsty?”

Kara died when she realized it was her voice that said the word, and she wrote that. She wrote that she even earned an incredulous look. It didn’t stop her from looking at her watch though.

“Parched.”

That was it.

Except it wasn’t. Kara ordered the drinks, bumbling as best she could, forgetting her friends waiting for their libations. And she sat at the bar and held out her hand after taking a long gulp of her root beer and trying to find some bravery.

“Kara Danvers,” the girl at the bar grinned, her eyes sparkling. “My own personal hero.”

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be,” she muttered, blushing and breathless.

“You say that now,” she shook her head and chuckled.

“I don’t know why.”

“Lena Luthor,” the girl at the bar took a deep breath and offered her hand to shake this time. “Yes. That Luthor.”

“Okay,” she shrugged. “Do you know who this band is?”

“You don’t recognize the name?”

“I do… but I don’t see how it’s relevant.”

And the girl at the bar watched Kara so hard, she didn’t know what else to do. The song changed and she gulped before looking toward the corner that housed the singer and guitarist and drummer.

“You are a peculiar one, Ms. Danvers,” Lena smiled before following the gaze as well toward the music.

Something inside of her told her not to make a sound, and so Kara didn’t. She wrote that, and she wrote about how this feeling crept into her bones, between them, that there was no one around who would understand.

She wrote that she wasn’t sure if that was the ending to the story or just the start, and that perhaps they all were left like that, at least for a while.

That night, she wrote, still in her dress from the party. She jotted down the color of Lena Luthor’s eyes, and the slope of her jaw, and the way she had a mouth on her like a sailor and the way she explained things with her hands, crafting ideas and meaning with them. All of it poured forth from her so quickly that her hand hurt, but still, she did it against the trouble of her muscles.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe she would never see Lena Luthor ever again and it was just her head playing tricks on her.

But maybe it wasn’t.

But maybe she would want to remember the exact moment she fell in love with a completely terrifying stranger with a small smile and a mischievous glint.

It was probably nothing, she sighed as she ran out of details.

But maybe it wasn’t.

Kara Danvers was Supergirl.

Lena knew it when she found herself shielded by the superhero a month after the party. She wasn’t sure why she felt the compulsion to actually follow up with the reporter that gave her a card at the end of the night instead of inviting her up for a nightcap when her driver dropped her off.

She could have gone for a nightcap that night. A nightcap with a beautiful girl who had a delicate balance of perseverance and nerves, who flirted and who wasn’t sure if she was. Lena very much wanted a nightcap with Kara Danvers.

So she held onto the card for the entire ride home, memorizing it, tapping it against her chin, absently running it against her jaw, wishing that it would get lost while she slept that night, so she wouldn’t have to think of it ever again, and she could forget the pretty reporter with those eyes that defied the spectrum of colors available to the human eye.

Instead, Lena woke the next day and found the card on the counter in the kitchen, right where she left it. And thus she emailed under the pretense of wanting to give an interview, which then clouded their relationship in this mystique of friendship that was so stifling, she felt it choking her as she also attempted to swallow the silly crush on the nerdy reporter who actually liked to go to the Planetarium with Lena, and allowed her to geek out over the constellation show.

They had a friendship that was pure and good, honest and, in particular, something that Lena knew she desperately needed. Because of that, she thought it wise not to push, not to ruin it with the silly idea that perhaps someone like that would want someone like her.

And then she found herself shielded by Supergirl as her mother attempted to kill her, and things took a turn in their friendship. Instantly, Lena wanted to do nothing but return the favor and protect the hero.

To do that, she did one of the most difficult things imaginable, and she stopped returning her calls and began ditching their lunches. Which might have been effective against most people.

But Kara Danvers was Supergirl.

And Lena was weak against her for some reason.

They were best friends, even though they had their secrets from the other. Both lived a double life, and both hid it well.

Kara was sunshine and goodness, and Lena swallowed it greedily, as perhaps, one of the only things she ever had just for herself. Most of the time, that excuse made her feel less guilty. Sometimes it made her feel worse.

And then Kara would smile at her and Lena didn’t care about her last name.

The more time Kara spent with Lena Luthor, the more the guilt gnawed and wormed its way into her gut that she lied about everything. Kara would think of the girl in the bar and how her heart flipped and did an entire obstacle course worth of flips and swings and dives and jumps, and it was made worse the more she got to know the heir to the most powerful empire on the planet.

And she lied to her about herself. She didn’t allow herself to have a crush on Lena Luthor because it wasn’t fair to anyone, but especially Lex Luthor’s baby sister. Kara couldn’t handle it all sometimes, that guilt and fear.

It didn’t help that the Luthor seemed like a magnet for impending crisis. Or that Supergirl was her hero. Or that Lena was Supergirl’s biggest fan, and for that fact, Kara’s as well. No one rooted for either side of the hero’s personality harder than Lena Luthor. And with the kind of conviction reserved only for saints and martyrs, Kara was her biggest defender– physically and to her friends.

Lena was kind and smart, thoughtful and not cold, though she certainly was, as she so generously referred to herself, somewhat emotionally stunted, but she was working on that. And that was the part that Kara fell for the most. Self-aware and a mess, but so very much trying to do better. It was admirable.

Fearless and brash, hot-tempered and passionate, Lena was a constant surprise, and despite herself, Kara couldn’t stay away. Not from the girl in the bar who spent the night making her laugh in a very unassuming way.

For months they cultivated a friendship built upon the foundation of lingering glances across a room and movie nights that ended with hugs that were about thirty seconds past polite or friendly. It was day trips to museums and ditched meetings in favor of lunches. It was mass emergencies with Supergirl plucking an executive from impending peril, and then showing up at her apartment that night for a stern talking to about being safe.

And all of it ended on a random Thursday.

The Thursday that Kara got so frustrated after the most recent attempt on her best friend’s life, and her dismissal of the actual danger, that all she could do was grab her by the cheeks and kiss her.

Kara held her breath and she shook her head and she stared at those lips, and she would blame it on the adrenaline, but she kissed Lena Luthor in her cape and in her emblem on the penthouse balcony after carrying her there and yelling for a solid five minutes only to earn a shrug and adamant refusal to change her life because of the motives of a terrorist.

So conflicted and angry and afraid and protective, Kara had to give Lena a reason to not be so damn suicidal or at least to be more careful. She had to tell her that her own body was eating itself up with worry at the thought of what could happen. And it was all in a more than friendly way.

Kara tugged Lena’s neck, stood close, and she kissed her hard. It was dark, the lights from the penthouse windows were shining enough to cast more than a dull glow. The city even seemed dimmer than normal. In the distance, a siren screamed through the street.

Supergirl expected to be pushed away. Potentially slapped, once she realized what she’d done. Instead, she earned a little fist rooting in her uniform, tugging her closer. She earned a body pressed against her own, and she got a hand slipping up her neck and into her hair, tugging it there.

“Oh no,” Lena whispered, leaning her forehead against Kara’s as she tried to catch her breath. Kara felt her chest with every large inhale and ragged exhale.

“I’m sorry. I don’t– I didn’t–”

“If you just would have made a move that first night in the bar.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe it took that long to find some nerve, Kara,” Lena chuckled and let her head drop to Kara’s shoulder, all sense and reason and energy leaving her muscles.

“How did you–? Since.. How long?” she furrowed.

“A while.”

“It was that obvious that I liked you?”

She earned a little snort as Lena pulled away and shook her head at the hero who was a thirteen year old and just as incapable of understanding how to interact with another person as she was. Of course she would worry more about that than her hero identity. That was perfect.

“No,” Lena shook her head. “I just really hoped.”

“I’m just not sure what to do,” Kara sighed, deep in thought as she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

“Not date a Luthor,” her sister grunted as she picked up a new slide and turned back to her microscope and the computer screen of the lab deep in the DEO headquarters.

“Alex.”

“I’m sorry. Habit.”

“It’s been almost a year and you aren’t over it?”

“I am. I’m trying,” Alex relented. “Habits are hard you know.”

“This is important.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

Kara sighed, deep and heavy. She teased at her boots, nudged the toe of one with the heel of another. It’d been a long day, it’d been a long week, and Kara was well out of her depth when it came to dealing with her girlfriend.

As the trial finally came closer, she knew that Lena would feel it and deal with it in different ways, but she hadn’t anticipated her own inability to rectify her feelings for Lena’s family with the girl she was in love with, and had been for what felt like forever.

“She’s baking,” Kara sighed. “She’s baking and she doesn’t know how to bake.”

“She’s dealing with it.”

“I’m worried. She won’t talk to me. She talks to me.”

Alex finally looked away from the computer screen and back to the hero in blue and red who looked like a lost kid more than a crime fighter. At least for the moment. And despite the topic, Alex was a big sister, and s he knew how hard it must have been for Kara to talk to her about it, and so she did her best.

Kara took the pep talk as best she could, though her mind was elsewhere.

They had a good thing. Lena and Kara had a very good thing. Better than they anticipated. Better than she could have ever hoped or dreamed. They fit together in ways, helped each other when they were lacking, supplemented each other. Lena made Kara brave and strong and stick up for what she believed to be good and right. Kara introduced Lena to life again, kept her grounded, made her imagination dance and sing. Together, they were hopeful and they were enjoying themselves more than either thought possible.

They were blessed with an easy period of life.

Lena poured more flour into a bowl and wiped a streak of it across her forehead as she refused to let herself think about the tabloids and the headlines on the papers. She caught a few and she knew what was coming. She knew that Kara would see them and remember that she was a Luthor. She knew that the life she’d created for herself, that she fought for and won with blood and sweat and tears, that she pried from the clutches of her family’s incessant need to ruin everything, she knew it was going to be taken away from her.

And she didn’t even know how to do anything with her hands.

So she started baking.

On the fridge were pictures she took from the polaroid camera her girlfriend got her for her birthday a few months ago. Lena became obsessive. Kara’s bare stomach as she tugged her shirt over her head. Both of them, blinded by light and with a dark city as a backdrop, each making a silly face. Kara with a huge ice cream cone. The cabin they snuck away to for a few days one weekend. The gang at game night. Lunch by the lake. Both wearing big headphones as they took the helicopter to an event across town.

Lena didn’t notice as she grabbed the eggs and broke them into a bowl after closing the fridge door with her elbow.

Her family was on trial, and they wanted to kill the aliens and the Supers and most importantly her girlfriend. She found happiness and naturally it was taken from her, and she didn’t know what to do.

So she started baking.

“Hey.”

Lena hesitated for a moment until she resumed mixing. Her girlfriend smiled at the sight and slowly approached the expansive kitchen. Kara helped herself to what she thought was a brownie on one of the plates before promptly spitting it back into her hand, unnoticed by the CEO.

“So. You’re baking,” she tried to swallow the taste out of her mouth. How something could be both burnt and undercooked, she wasn’t sure. “A lot.”

“I read that it’s soothing. Keeps the mind busy. There are millions of recipes online. I can order groceries as well, so I never have to leave. It’s great. I’ll just bake things forever.”

“Yeah, that’s a plan,” Kara nodded and leaned against the counter as something beeped and Lena opened the oven. “Or you could talk to me about whatever is going on in your head.”

“Nothing. Baking. That’s what’s going on in my head.”

“Right.”

“Right,” Lena nodded, slipping something resembling what Kara thought might be a pie, into the oven.

The hero was at her wits end, and so she took a deep breath and watched the girl that she fell in love with at almost midnight on a Tuesday an entire lifetime ago.

“I’m not going anywhere, just so you know,” Kara finally whispered as more ingredients were beat together in a bowl. Lena didn’t look up. “I’m not scared. I don’t care that you’re a Luthor. I don’t care that the easy part is over for a bit and it’s hard now. I’m not going anywhere. So if you want to stop baking, that’d be okay. Or if you want me to go grab you more ingredients, that’s okay too.”

There was a slight break in the mixing, a stutter of a movement until she resumed again, afraid to look up. Kara sighed and nodded before making her way to the living room as she tugged off her jacket and hung it on a dining room chair.

In the kitchen, Lena baked and mulled. She thought hard and she tried to be very un-Luthor-like in her optimism and need to protect herself. The timer dinged as she piled things that were dirty and started another batter.

For a long while, Lena stared at the bowl and she realized she didn’t want to bake again.

Kara listened in the living room, breathing a sigh of relief when the oven clicked off after it’s rather long day. She listened to Lena’s barefeet against the floor. Feet at night made a different noise as they shuffled than those at dawn. That was just a fact.

“I don’t know how to be worth the trouble.”

“Worth it?” Kara furrowed.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Lena wrapped her arms around her chest. “I don’t know what to do about anything right now.”

To her credit, she thought about it for a second before tugging the CEO into her lap, layer of flour and butter and all.

“Me neither.”

The words were just a mumble against a sugary neck. Kara took a deep breath as she wrapped her arms around a tired body. She kissed the shirt there and inhaled the vanilla extract that was buried beneath a lot of powdered sugar.

“Don’t go away,” Lena sighed, wiggling her forehead against her girlfriend’s temple. “I really want to hope that we get another shot at the easy part.”

“We will.”

She asked Alex first. That was obvious.

And then she asked Clark. Then James. Then J’onn.

It was a surprise every single time because it had been public knowledge that Lena Luthor wasn’t the marrying type. And Kara knew it, she didn’t much care because they were them, and it still worked. They were both too busy to worry about things like that. They lived together and had dinner and were disgustingly perfect which people took as a show, until it lasted longer than a week. Three years, and they were as in love as that Tuesday.

So when Kara came home to candles and flowers, she didn’t think much more of it than a missed anniversary or birthday. Lena wasn’t the marrying type. How could she be? Her father cheated on her stepmother with her mother. The only marriage she was privy to as a child was full of lies and power struggles and loathing. It was a terrifying prospect, to imagine anyone surviving such an undertaking.

But for Kara, Lena was willing to do anything. Not “just about anything.” But really, truly, anything at all. She was even a little brave for it.

Lena decided she was going to marry Kara one night when the hero was asleep and didn’t even know that these things were decided for her. She finished reading some emails and she turned off the light before sitting closer and kissing Kara’s back. Right then, she had a thought, that she wanted to be Kara’s wife.

The candles shaking and the music was humming low and steady. Clutching at her own arms, Lena waited for Kara to turn the corner.

“Lee? What’s going… on?”

Despite smiling when she finally saw her girlfriend, Kara’s eyes quickly tracked the pictures that were in many frames on every surface. She furrowed and found the flowers, filling the room as they once did her office.

“This is for me?”

“It is.”

“But… what is it?”

“Come look,” Lena smiled, her voice weak and unsure and hopeful that Kara would help make this easy and painless and that she would be a good wife. That was what she wanted to be.

Kara crept through the apartment, amazed by the wash of candles on the walls and the smell of the flowers and the way her girlfriend looked. Her stomach did flips but her brain didn’t know what was actually happening to cause them, just that here was Lena and she was in love with her and sometimes that was all the world had to offer.

“What’s going on, Lee?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, I know, but–”

“Just, let me get it out, okay?” the CEO tried, smoothing her hands against her hips. “I love you. And I know I’m not easy to love. But you deserve someone who is going to try and fight for you and give you the world. You deserve happiness and a warm place to fall asleep and to wake up to someone who loves you. And What I mean is that I want to be that person. I want to be that person for you.”

“Lena…”

“I just,” she swallowed and took a deep breath. “Kara, I’m not perfect, but despite that you love me, and I want to spend forever with you. If you want to, that is.”

“What are you asking me?”

“Will you marry me?”

“I’m exhausted,” Kara complained as she sunk into the couch.

A loud squeak emerged until she rooted around behind her back and tossed a toy on the floor, too tired to even move or care about the mess in the apartment.

“Supergirl defeated by a four year old,” Lena teased as she balanced a toddler on her hip.

The youngest Danvers tucked his head under her chin and was half asleep as she rubbed his back and lulled him towards the nap that was due after lunch.

It was a sight Kara never expected, but when she saw it, it changed everything. Lena was often portrayed as cold, and though Kara knew better than to believe it, there were still moments where she was surprised by her wife. At first somewhat hesitant, Lena was an automatic hit with Kara’s nephews. Her staunch ways and big words and being the complete opposite of loud, silly, funny Aunt Kara was, was actually funnier to the boys.

And then they grew used to her, and tentatively climbed on her, and inevitably, they just liked being with her because she took them to the zoo. She was not against buying their love.

“I’d rather fight a horde of mummy men,” Kara sighed and sunk deeper.

Her wife rolled her eyes and moved through the living room toward the spare bedroom that had since been taken over by the kids. Even when they weren’t watching them, the room was theirs. Lena filled it with toys and beds and spare clothes, because for the first time in her life, she was an aunt, and she loved it, though she couldn’t admit it outright.

Lena Danvers grew as a person, but not that much.

“Come on, little man. It’s nap time,” she cooed as her wife smiled back at her.

Just a few more hours and their life would be back to normal, the rugrats would be picked up and they could detox. Kara waited for it eagerly despite enjoying them a lot.

From the couch, Kara listened as Lena tucked in the little boy while his brother was already napping. She listened to her fret and she listened to her sigh a happy kind of sigh before gently closing the door until it was just a crack.

“Come here,” Kara grinned as her wife approached. “I’ll clean up from lunch. Just come here…”

“If I sit, I’ll never get up. They’re so full of energy.”

Despite her words, Lena let Kara tug her into her lap. She took a deep breath and relaxed, half ready for a nap herself as warm hands moved along her back and side. She inhaled the sunshine that lived on Kara’s neck and skin, hiding in the familiar safety of her wife’s chest, a place she never cared to leave, a foreign place that now was everything.

“Maggie said they’ll be here before dinner,” Kara hummed as they stretched along the couch.

“Can we order in and not leave the couch?” Lena tried. “I like having them but I don’t think I can think of cooking.”

“Sounds good.”

“Good.”

In the other room, the boys were sleeping and they were unaware of how peaceful the couple of aunts were on the couch. No one would know, but it didn’t matter. Lena played with Kara’s neck, ran her thumb along her jaw.

“Do you ever think… about… kids?”

“Like the boys?” Lena asked with a yawn as she adjusted her hips and closed her eyes.

“Kind of. I mean like, of our own. Our kids. To have kids. Do you think about it?”

“We talked about it before we got married.”

“Yeah, but that was… I just… I wondered if you changed your mind.”

The hands stopped moving and Kara felt Lena grow a bit rigid. She swallowed and knew that it was a dangerous button to push. Lena proposed and made a new family, and that was more than a lifetime’s worth of therapy well-spent.

When they talked about kids before, Kara was firmly in the wanting them camp, and she allowed herself to get dissuaded. And then she saw Lena holding the boys and kissing booboo’s and she thought about it.

But she understood Lena’s point of view. How could a Luthor actually imagine having a happy, functional family? Marriage alone was enough to push her well outside of her comfort zone.

“I haven’t,” Lena mumbled, taking another deep breath, as if she might not get another. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I was just wondering.”

“You want kids?”

“I want you.”

“But you want what your sister has, don’t you?”

Full of worry, Lena’s hands grew antsy when Kara’s tried to soothe her worry. The conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, but still, Kara tried because she thought maybe things had changed. She thought.

“I want you and a happy life where we get to do good things and help people.”

Kara kissed her wife’s head and breathed in her shampoo, all lemon and sweet.

“Kara.”

“I’m happy. It was just a question.”

“Because I can’t do it. I don’t… I wouldn’t… I just. We talked about it before.”

“I know.”

They settled there and it took a few minutes for Lena to relax. But she finally did, exhausted from their weekend with the boys and work and life. She slid herself between the back of the couch and Kara’s rib.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great mom,” Kara whispered, kissing Lena’s forehead as she whispered.

“Where is she?” Kara pled, frantic and unable to find the person she needed to find. “Lena Danvers. Where is she?”

The nurse was not ready for the forceful outburst and backed up slightly, away from the deranged and afraid woman on the other side of the desk. All she could do was point and she was off a second later.

So wrapped up in her own head, Kara couldn’t hear Lena. She couldn’t use her powers for anything other than being worried at a ridiculous speed.

Six nurses later and Kara tapped her foot in the elevator as it approached seven. She crossed her arms around herself and furrowed as she bit at her lip, her heart dancing with this new kind of fear, where somehow it became a reality, the idea of losing Lena. The first thing she thought about was how if Lena was gone, then who would kiss her jaw and hug her so tight it made her feel whole. Who else could do that? Only Lena. Only Lena knew it all.

“Lena Danvers?” she tried again at the nurses’ station. “I need to see my wife. I got a call, and I haven’t heard– Is she– what happened?”

“Mrs. Danvers, I think you should–” a doctor tried.

But with the proximity and focus, Kara brushed past him toward a room that she could only described as being dragged there by pure force of heart and need.

Pale and utterly blank, Lena stared at the window on the opposite wall from the bed. Her eyes were lifeless, her heart still beating. That was what Kara needed to hear. It helped wash away some of the fear. Not all. But some.

“God, I was so worried, Lee,” she sighed and rushed into the room after her momentary relief. “Jess called me and I got here as soon as I could.”

Lena barely looked at her, the life behind her eyes gone and dulled to almost nothing. Kara had never seen the spitfire of a woman so defeated and weak. It would have been less painful to have Doomsday rip out her entire heart and lungs in one go, she imagined.

The doctor stood by the door and cleared his throat as Lena looked back toward the window, unable to old her wife’s eyes too long.

Helplessly, Kara looked back and forth, she pushed away some of the hair on Lena’s forehead and she kissed there, hoping to help. It was all she could do.

“What happened?” she asked to the room. It took the doctor a beat to realize he was going to be the one.

“There was some cramping and fever,” he swallowed and looked at the chart. “We ran some tests, and we will have more answers shortly.”

“The baby, is the baby okay?” Kara ventured, her pulse quickening as she strained her ears and tried to find the tiniest flutter of a heartbeat she was just starting to find.

“I’m sorry.”

The world stood still, and Kara felt the smack more than she ever felt anything in her life. She held onto Lena’s hand still, despite its inability to grip back. The tears ran silent down her cheek for a few minutes before the doctor excused himself and she kissed her wife’s palm.

“I’m sorry,” Lena mumbled.

“It’s no one’s fault.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Kara tried, though her heart and tongue and words were all lead to her, heavy and unwieldy in her mouth and gut.

“I’m sorry,” Lena sniffed.

“I’m sorry,” Kara promised between the choking sobs in her throat.

Finally, her head dropped to Lena’s shoulder, and though the patient couldn’t move, her body numbed to all stimuli and emotion, she pressed her cheek against her wife’s hair and cried with her.

Supergirl wept into Lena’s neck, held her hand close to her chest, cradling it there. She curled up as tight as she could and she didn’t know what else to do. So she cried with her wife and she mourned and she apologized.

Sometimes Kara was late to dinner. Sometimes, Lena had to work late, and her wife would bring over dinner and they’d have a little picnic in the CEO’s office. But on days when Supergirl was busy, and Lena made it home before realizing she’d be alone for dinner, she would allow herself to order a very green, very healthy dish from her favorite vegan place and settle in for an old Western that Kara found both disgusting and boring, in that order.

No matter what the incident though, there was usually a text or quick call estimating when she’d be home. Which is why Lena found herself pacing slightly at almost midnight when the news had no word from Supergirl and neither did she.

By the time the door opened, she was convinced that her wife was dead in a ditch somewhere, which was not a normal thought for the former Luthor to have at all, with the whole indestructible thing and all.

“Kara! I’ve been worried sick,” Lena railed as she marched toward the girl who finally made it back. “I didn’t even know who to ca– What is that?”

“Don’t be mad,” Kara prefaced.

“Whenever you say that, I usually end up mad.”

“It’s just for a night.”

The superhero knew enough to look apprehensive as she juggled the mangy puppy who was caked with mud, who had the saddest, biggest puppy eyes that anyone had ever owned. Both stared at the Luthor and waited.

“Kara,” Lena warned, shaking her head.

“Just for a night,” the superhero begged. “Look at him, Lena. The shelter was closed, and no one else could take him. He just needs a chance. Look at this face.”

“It’s dirty.”

“He just went through a bad patch. He needs help. We can help.”

Lena hated how effective it was, she hated how much her heart broke with the puppy. She mostly hated that her wife was so damn adorable and caring and she was along for the ride, and before she even walked through the door, Kara knew she was going to win.

“If you don’t want him, I can try to find–”

“One night,” Lena sighed, holding up her finger. “One night and he’s gone in the morning. I swear, Kara, if he eats–”

Her wife kissed her cheek excitedly while a wet nose dug into her chest and shoulder with proximity.

“Want to help me give him a bath?” Kara asked, bubbling with excitement. “We can come up with a name for him, too. Just for tonight, of course.”

Already talking a mile a minute, Lena hung her head slightly, already aware of what her life had become.

“Leave it.”

Lena didn’t stop moving, not even despite the pain in her wife’s voice. She couldn’t stop moving, and she couldn’t handle the way Kara’s voice was low and soft and soothing while wielding a ridiculous amount of ache. So she folded another bit of tiny clothing with ducks on it, and she placed it in a box.

From the door, Kara sighed and furrowed as she picked up a stuffed animal, a little penguin she picked out herself at the baby store when they went and bought everything they could get their hands on.

She wanted to be a mom. She wanted to give Lena that experience, too. Kara wanted to have the family she lost, almost more than anything else in the world. She traced her fingers along the little egg-shaped bird. Her fingers made the wings flap off-beat.

“I’ll put this away tomorrow. We should–”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not–”

“I’m fine,” Lena insisted.

There was a fight there, waiting in the wings, but Kara couldn’t. She didn’t have the energy for much, and so she started to put toys in a garbage bag for the donation pile, and she tried not to think about how blank her body felt. Across town, she could hear a siren and she didn’t even think of going to help. She couldn’t even help herself.

They worked together in silence because silence was all they had to do. It was impossible to say much to help the other much less help themselves.

“I made you want this. I am the reason you have this much pain,” Kara finally whispered, her guilt getting the best of her.

“You made me want it,” Lena shook her head as she folded another. “But none of this is your fault.”

“I’m sorry. We were just getting over… before, and now. I just–”

“It’s no one’s fault.”

“She chose use to raise this baby, and then she took it away. It’s not fair.”

Kara wanted to believe her, but she couldn’t. She felt it all and she didn’t know what else she could do to alleviate it.

It wasn’t until hands wrapped around her waist that she realized she hadn’t moved in a few minutes. Kara didn’t relax, but she let her wife hug her as they stood in the middle of the half-dismantled nursery.

By the third night, Lena let herself have some hope. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help it. She looked into those eyes and she wanted the baby so much, she didn’t understand it. Still, she didn’t tell her wife, because she knew Kara was conflicted, and she knew that the hero held it in better, but she ached as much as Lena, and that was a dangerous kind of knowledge.

“You know, I was left on a doorstep, too,” Lena explained as she chopped something on the cutting board.

The baby cooed and gurgled and sucked on a pacifier as she jiggled in her bouncer on the counter. Lena left work early when Supergirl got called away. She volunteered to babysit even though being around something so tiny was terrifying. She did it because she was already in love.

“It’s true. I was. I have one memory of my mother. I think it’s a memory. And it’s not even of her. It’s just a feeling of her, if that makes sense.”

Even though there wasn’t an answer, she waited and looked at the infant.

“I turned out okay. I think. Well, I didn’t think that, until I met Kara. It’s weird how things just fall into place when you realize that happiness isn’t guaranteed. You have to work for it.”

Ingredients were brought to the stove and added to the pan where the sizzled as Lena mulled over her words and life at the same time.

“Believe me, I wasn’t someone who happiness comes for easily. I also cook now. And have a dog. That’s my life.”

The baby answered in a string of weird sounds that resulted in the pacifier dropping to the counter where Frank sniffed and licked as if it were dropped food.

“I’d very much like to keep you, you know?” Lexa explained as she rinsed off the pacifier in the sink and nudged the waiting dog with her hip as he lumbered around the kitchen and sniffed at the baby’s feet.

The CEO hovered near Rosie, smiling as she earned a smile herself. She let her fingertips touch the soft hairs, and she inhaled the freshly bathed smell.

“You could grow up playing in my office and getting ice cream with us. We could go to the park all the time. Maybe get a new place, closer to it. You’d go to a great school in the neighborhood, and one of us would pick you up every day. No nanny. No boarding school. We would love you so hard, you wouldn’t have to work for happiness.”

The baby hummed to herself and reached out to touch Lena’s cheek and nose and she grabbed at it and her chin and giggled. She was certain it was a giggle.

“You had a rough start. That’s true. But it’s only going to get better.”

The dog started to prance as he heard Kara approaching. Lena nodded and went back to her work of preparing a dinner for six to feed her and her wife.

“It smells so good in here,” Kara groaned as she made her way into the apartment. She dropped her keys on the table and her bag and coat flopped onto the couch in a wave of destruction.

“Tough day, Supergirl?”

“Honestly, the bank robbery wasn’t that difficult. But Snapper editing my work was absolute misery,” she sighed. “Hi baby girl. How are you? Were you good? You smell like you got a bath.”

“I thought it’d be easier and then feed her after dinner and put her down.”

“Sounds like you have a routine,” Kara murmured as she kissed the baby, rubbingher finger against her cheek. “How are you?”

Arms wrapped around Lena’s waist as she stirred. Lips moved to her neck and a taller body relaxed against her, shadowing her in love and this safe feeling that Lena assumed meant home.

“It was a good day,” Lena nodded with a smile.

She was quite sure that Lena never wanted anything more than for that moment to never end.

Chapter Text

The traffic in the city was miserable, taking up every inch of street as far as the eye could see. Cars inched along while no one could figure out exactly why it was so busy and backed up, but instead relegated themselves to their personal misery as moments of their lives ticked away with little to no progress, to some, an apt metaphor for existence. To the CEO of LCorp, formerly Luthor Corp, it was downright torture.

Fresh from a flight and across the world, she specifically made plans to be back home at a certain time. Now she just glanced at her watch every six seconds and debated her options.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Danvers,” the driver shook his head as he chanced a look in the rearview mirror and watched her fret. “There must be an accident on the bridge.”

“It’s not your fault, Leon,” she offered a small, tight smile. “I think I’m going to phone in a favor from a friend.”

“Haven’t seen the emblem around much.”

“She’s dabbling with retirement. I haven’t seen her in a while, but we’re old friends.”

“I need friends like that,” he chuckled as she gathered her bag and began dialing her wife.

“You have me, Leon. What else could you ask for?”

“That’s very true. Wish her good luck for me, and I’ll expect a play-by-play in the morning.”

“Get home safe,” she wished as she finally climbed out and closed the door. “Darling, would you mind picking me up? Traffic is terrible.… Mmhmm…. Yes, exactly…. Fifth and Valley. Thanks, love.”

In under five minutes, Lena was scooped up and dropped off in an alley across town. She placed a kiss on her hero’s lips before walking out onto the sidewalk and meeting her wife who was not winded or disheveled at all for the running around she’d done.

“You made it,” Kara grinned as she hugged Lena.

“I had a hand. Did I miss anything?”

“Just the first set,” she promised, kissing her wife and hugging her tight. “She looks good out there.”

“Naturally.”

Amidst the packed gymnasium, the CEO and the reporter slid into the stands near the other parents. The nerves disappeared when Lena saw her daughter in her bright blue and yellow and her last name emboldened on her shoulders. Running around the world, and she was only late by one set. It was a pretty impressive schedule, though she’d beat herself up for missing a single second of it.

After a point, Rosie scanned the crowd once again until she found her moms and smiled, earning a wink from the CEO and a tiny wave from her reporter. Just like that, she was focused back on the game, tall and gawky and blocking on the net.

It was a problem, for Lena, to be surrounded by giants. Her wife had a good six inches on her, hence her penchant for high heels to even the ground somewhat. That was always kind of nice though, to be tiny compared to the hero. It meant that at night, when she took her heels off and walked around in old shorts and a sweatshirt, she would get eclipsed with arms around her shoulders and a chin on her head and then lips on her neck as she cooked.

Her daughter somehow sprouted up at an alarming rate. She never stopped growing or eating, just like her mom. She wasn’t quite six foot, but she was damn close. Lena was surrounded by giants who towered over her and mocked her for her average height and that they were good at sports. But as important as Supergirl was, Lena could see a little bit of pride and bravado creep in when Lena asked something as simple as reaching something from the top shelf in the apartment. The little things, and such.

If anyone were to ask Lena how her daughter was, she would brag. She was so proud of her that it came out constantly. The only sophomore on to make varsity. Took lots of advanced classes and was interested in computers, showed a knack for fixing things and math. Rosie was a human calculator, and everyone who ever talked to Lena knew it.

“Good job! Good job!” Kara shouted and clapped, the rowdiest of all the parents in their section. Lena tugged her down to avoid embarrassing her daughter so much. “What? Too much?”

“She did ask you to tone it down a bit. I believe ‘chill’ was the word.”

“But look at how good she did!”

“I know, honey,” Lena chuckled and leaned against her wife’s shoulder, earning a kiss on her forehead. “How did that meeting with the editor go?”

“Great. I have a few more things to work on, some places to refine. So maybe only about sixteen more rough drafts.”

“Just sixteen? That’s not bad.”

“That’s what I thought,” she smiled. “How were your meetings?”

“Not too bad. I missed home. You two managed to survive and eat actual food, right? Not just pizza and thai take out?”

“Rosie made some really good veggie pasta, and she had some friends over last night and we grilled, a whole bunch of things.”

“I’m proud of you two.”

They chatted and watched their daughter play, cheering along and catching up over the past few days spent apart. By the time the game was over, they were back in their rhythm, that rhythm of the family, that song of their lives together.

Lena didn’t miss a game. She didn’t miss a debate club event, nor did she miss a science fair or parents night. Her daughter and her wife’s calendar were uploaded to Lena’s and her assistant knew how to schedule things well enough around them. It wasn’t hard, but that was because Lena worked hard at it.

“You looked so good out there, darling,” Lena beamed as she hugged her sweaty daughter.

Sweat cooled and turned to sticky curls against her forehead and neck, but still, Rosie accepted the squeeze with a smile, tugged down to her mother’s height.

She didn’t look like them. Not at all. Not really. Once, someone told her she had Lena’s smirk. That was a great day in her opinion. She was told that she walked like Kara. That was another good part. And that she had Lena’s laugh, and Kara’s humor. Little parts crept into her life and Rosie craved that connection because she didn’t look like them.

She didn’t have the blonde hair in the perfect waves or the jet black look of her fierce CEO parent. She didn’t have brilliant blue eyes, nor did she have deep green ones that were full of mischief. Her hair was deep, chestnut brown and often frizzy with curls or untameable waves. Her eyes were chocolate brown, though her mother called them her teddy-bear eyes to make her feel better about how non-descript they were. Her nose wasn’t like theirs, her jaw wasn’t square, though she worked hard to have good eyebrows per her mother. There was no physical link to the people who raised her from a night on a runaway subway train.

So she settled for having Lena’s wit and Kara’s heart.

Rosie didn’t look like her mothers, but she wanted to be like them so badly, and all they wanted to do was support her. So she was genuinely happy to see her mother appear in time for the second set, and she hugged her so tightly she was certain she might be part Supergirl.

“You had a good trip?” Rosie asked as Kara grabbed her duffle bag full of clothes, and her backpack full of homework.

“Not bad. I heard you cooked and did well on that Shakespeare test.”

“What did you bring us?”

“Yeah, what did you bring us?” Kara echoed.

“You two,” Lena rolled her eyes.

The little unit was a happy unit. Rosie talked a mile a minute about her week, catching her mother up on everything she missed while away. They made their way down the blocks, through the city, as they tried to get home. They ambled along and they laughed and were perfect, to outside eyes.

Lena was too busy to notice, but Kara was quiet, giving them time, and she spent her walk listening and watching them share their similarities. She liked that her wife could fill this part of her daughter, and vice versa. So she lugged their bags and watched as autumn fell in the city while they joked and caught up.

The house on the corner was a three story brownstone that Lena had to have. She found it the day after they signed a piece of paper that made them a full family. Something about raising a kid in the best school district, with a yard, and near a big park. She had to have it, and Kara was not good at arguing, and so they got it.

It housed Rosie’s first steps, and her crayon art on the wall, and her little reading nook in the back of a closet. The house held family dinners and lots of lights for the holidays. There were parties and get togethers and family friends who came at all hours. It was a good house and a better home, built of sturdy things and contented people.

“I’m ordering Chinese,” Lena decided as they stepped inside. Her bags were already unloaded and waiting in the foyer. The lights were on, there were books left open on the edge of a couch, the kitchen had cookies waiting.

“Thank Rao,” Kara groaned. “I thought I was going to have to cook again.”

“Get extra egg rolls,” Rosie decided as she kicked off her shoes. “And lots of duck sauce please.”

“You, go shower and start homework,” Lena pushed her shoulders gently. “And you, help me with my bags?”

With a sly grin, Kara shouldered them easily and followed upstairs. They went up the next flight while Rosie broke off to shower.

“Finally,” Lena grinned, wrapping her arms around her wife’s neck, pressing her body against the crisp, non-plussed button up. “I’ve missed you.”

“Not nearly as much as I’ve missed you,” she sighed, picking up the CEO and kissing her eagerly. “The bed gets all empty and cold and I just miss seeing you so much. No one kicks me in their sleep or uses me like a space heater. I feel useless without you around.”

Lena kissed her wife. She knit her hands in her hair, and she tugged her close. She bit her lip and she pressed her hips into her abs. There was no way that Lena could help herself, not when she was near Kara, not when she was away and missed her. They did well enough apart, but they were always happier together.

“I love you.”

“I love you too… but I was promised potstickers.”

With a growl of complaint, Lena let her body slump against the statue that held her up. It was good to be home, was all she could think.

The office at the top of the LCorp building was familiar, and a second home. As a kid, Rosie grew up there. She hung out at the security desk during meetings, and she wore the hat, used the metal detector, and spied using the cameras. When she was older, she snuck down to research, and she spent a lot of time pestering interns to let her help while they walked a precarious line of allowing the CEO’s daughter to help with the trivial workings and not wanting to get in trouble for not giving into what she wanted.

Rosie broke her arm playing on the rolling chairs in the hall with a few of her friends. She shadowed her mother and asked a lot of questions that always got answers, never got diminished. And she wanted to work there one day. She wanted to be a Luthor, in the Danvers sense of the word. Even with a mom like Supergirl, Rosie was instantly drawn to the tiny microcosm that existed within the giant building her mother built from almost scratch. She would never be able to lift a car above her head, but she could follow in her mother’s footsteps. She could be the legacy. Something about that was infinitely appealing.

She was an old feature to the place, putting in a solid fifteen years at the company. Sometimes, it was in the form of her as a toddler, running naked through the halls. Sometimes, it was in the form of her playing reporter and interviewing any worker, so long as she didn’t leave the building. Sometimes, it was in the form of volleyball practice in the lobby level. Sometimes, it was in the form of teenager waiting for her mom to finish up a few things.

So it was no real shock to see her walk through the front doors one evening after practice and school, instead of heading straight home. Rosie was known to steal the conference rooms for projects, the wifi for her own kind of illicit activities that her mother would be furious if she knew, but also secretly proud, and she was known to crop up in her own personal playground at all hours, until she basically knew the place better than anyone else.

As she zipped up her school hoodie over her uniform, she nodded politely to the guard and accepted the pass to the private elevator. There were perks to being the boss’ kid, though Rosie was raised to never throw her privilege in anyone’s face. She was raised with tact and she was raised with manners.

She was raised with a lot of love, she thought, as she ascended toward her mother’s office.

With Supergirl out of town on business with Aunt Alex, Rosie didn’t want to go home quite yet. She didn’t want to think any longer about the nagging feeling that seemed to live between her ears. There was a little bit of nerves that rattled her head around, and she didn’t know where to start. Rosie always knew where to start. But one school assignment, and she was just lost and stuck in her head as her mom liked to tell her. Her feet took her to a safe place and the scene of the answers.

“Hey, Amy,” she greeted the private secretary. “Is Mom in?”

“She’s in a meeting. Do you want me to call her?”

The secretary was nearly part of the family, with how much she interacted with all of them. Rosie barely remembered when Jess sat at that desk before her promotion. Amy was nice though, and a good sport when it came to her family.

“No, she was going to pick up dinner after work, but I thought I’d meet her here and take her out.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Is Jess around?”

“She’s in China.”

“Okay, well, I’m just going to go in and get started on some homework,” she shrugged.

“Do you want a soda or something?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

The office at the top of the LCorp building that housed the CEO was as cozy and regular to the teenager as the home she grew up in, because she did the rest of her growing in its walls. It smelled like home. Rosie dropped her bag on the floor by the couch and looked around, as if she’d be caught just for thinking.

She took a seat at the desk and moved the mouse. Staring back at her was a picture of her moms at a birthday party, hats on and one kissing the other’s cheek as she blew on the noisemaker and the camera caught it in an instant. Staring back at her was the picture of the entire family at a temple in Nepal from their trip last summer. Staring back at her was her volleyball picture.

It did nothing to sway her guilt.

But her teacher assigned a family tree, and the little nagging thought that Rosie could usually beat down with her mothers’ love, reared its ugly little head, and kept at her until she couldn’t think of anything else.

The mission she currently found herself on was covert and of the utmost importance. If there was any information, it’d be hidden on her mother’s computer. Rosie could ask, but then she’d feel ungrateful. If she did this, then she didn’t have to hurt them, the people who raised her and rescued her and loved her so hard, that she couldn’t imagine any other future.

But she had to know.

Staring back at her, as she sat in her mother’s chair, the powerful head of a major corporation, she failed at cracking her password and hurried to dig through her bag and connect her laptop to try her new cracking program. Staring back at her was a picture of her mother and a big dog she barely remembered, and her mom, all on top of a mountain after hiking some trail, before she was even born.

She wanted to know what happened that night. She wanted the true story, the story no one actually knew. Her parents never lied to her or shied away from where she came into their lives. They told her early about the rescue and battle to keep her. They told her about that night, and still the only question she had, the why, that was impossible to know.

Rosie failed, her program glitching out and making a terrible effort at cracking the password as she grew more and more sullen under the guilt of her actions and how her curiosity made her do it.

For a few minutes she sat in the chair and stared at the computer screen, as if she could win a staring contest and it would somehow give her exactly what she wanted. It was time to come up with plan B as she slumped onto the couch, almost more upset that her new software failed, than the lack of information, for there was something terribly scary about the idea of finding out anything anyway.

The office at the top of the LCorp building was home, and Rosie was the princess and heir to it, if she wanted. Or she could be an astronaut or president or a mechanic, and her parents wouldn’t care. All she wanted to know, suddenly, was why someone gave her away. She never felt more unworthy of sitting behind that desk.

“Hey, I thought you were going home after practice,” the CEO beamed as she made her way back to the office. “I was going to pick up burgers.”

“I think better here. Less distractions.”

“The snacks that Amy sneaks you don’t hurt.”

“Those too,” she grinned.

Rosie watched her mother move around her office, lean over her chair and check her email quickly before she started to gather up a few documents.

Lena Danvers was beautiful, still. She was gorgeous and frequently cited as a classical beauty on all of the magazines. Her strong jaw, her crisp bone structure, her bright green eyes, her smile and the clothes and the jewelry. It was all a stunning picture. She was awe-inspiring to her daughter, and she didn’t even realize it.

She was the well of her dedication and hardwork. She was the fount from which her love of space movies and really expensive shoes was born. For the first time in a long time, Rosie found herself seriously pondering her mother.

“What are you working on, kid?” Lena asked as she made her way across her office. She smoothed her daughter’s hair to the side and kissed her forehead before she slid onto the couch beside her.

“Just, uh, history. I have a paper due next week,” Rosie lied and hoped it wasn’t too obvious. She wasn’t much of a liar. She didn’t ever have a reason to lie, and it felt foreign and heavy in her mouth.

“Anything fun?”

“Spanish-American War.”

“Yeah, not fun,” her mother decided as she kicked off her heels and tucked her feet under herself as she opened another folder. “How’s it coming?”

“Pretty good. How’s work?”

“Numbers. Just so many numbers. My eyes are going to cross. How was practice today?”

“We had to do so many laps after that loss. I just can’t get over how we had the win and then they just made stupid mistakes,” Rosie complained. “And at practice some of them were just not taking it seriously. So more laps. How can they not understand that if you giggle and joke around, then you have to run. Or do burpies. It’s just madness.”

“Did you even get the nets out?” Lena chuckled as she scanned her work.

“No! That’s the worst part of it all.”

They worked together in the office as they had before. Rosie tapped her pencil as she tried to concentrate on the real paper she actually had to write while the worry and the guilt all swirled up in her throat. Not once had she lied to her mom. Not once had she done anything to be deemed breaking of trust. And now, she was a terrible hacker and a liar. She wasn’t sure which would offend her mother more.

“What’s up, kid? You’re distracted from the exciting world of ancient wars,” Lena glanced over at the nervous teenager as she finished up a few things for the night.

“Mom, I need to tell you the truth.”

“Oh?” she cocked her eyebrow and waited, almost amused.

“I tried to hack your computer and I only did it just this time, and I did it with software I was making to hack into things, but the real reason, is so my teacher has this assignment, and I can’t say I haven’t thought about it before, because I have once or twice, because who wouldn’t at least be curious about it,” Rosie rambled. “I thought that I could do it and not hurt you or anything, because I know it would–”

“You tried to hack my computer?”

“Just the one time. Just today. I can’t not tell you because doing it felt so wrong and I can’t handle that. I don’t want it. And I thought it’d be easier to hold that guilt than to talk to you about this assignment–”

“Hey, honey, calm down,” her mother cooed, furrowing at the display.

Rosie rambled like Kara. It was as close to genetic as they could get. Once, she tried to hide rescuing a kitten. It lasted all of seven minutes before she confessed in a ball of fear that she was keeping a kitten in her dollhouse without telling her moms. Rosie wasn’t a fortress of secrets. She liked honesty. She liked her life, honestly.

“I’m supposed to make a family tree and I want…. I wanted to find something out about my mother. I mean. My birth mother. Whoever… left me.”

There was the look. The look that crossed her mother’s face before she caught herself. Rosie saw it and took it like a punch in the gut. All of it was regret and she just wanted to be grounded for the poor attempt at hacking and for being a terrible person. It was supposed to feel better, she thought, scowling to herself at the realization that everything was terrible.

“My password is your name,” Lena whispered with the glimpse of a smile as she looked down at her hands.

Rosie took another punch to the stomach, though this one felt like it grabbed and twisted her insides until she squirmed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I wouldn’t– I take it back. I don’t care about it at all, and the program was only half-assed.”

“We can work on it, if you want.”

“Yeah. Sure,” she mumbled.

They were quiet and neither knew what else to say. Rosie wanted to shrivel up and take back the impulsive decision to open her mouth at all. Instead, she just hung her head when her mother moved across the office. She hung her head and fiddled with her pencil while Lena shuffled around and finally returned to the couch.

“The second night that you were with us,” she began, swallowing to steady herself. “I hacked into the private cameras of the transit authority and did what I could to find whoever left a perfect, beautiful, healthy baby on a train.”

“You don’t– You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I knew you might ask one day. I asked when I was in your shoes, and I asked because I wanted to have answers for you.”

“You asked?”

“My birth mother died, and I found out some hard facts about my father. But I had to know. I couldn’t imagine never knowing, and I thought this would be easier for me, knowing this,” she sighed, shaking her head weakly. “But it isn’t. This is everything I found about who I think is your mother.”

“Birth mother. Not my mother.”

“This is yours, whenever you want to look at it,” Lena promised, holding out the folder. “It doesn’t have to change anything. But I knew you might want to know. You have a right to know.”

For a long beat, she stared at the papers and Rosie didn’t know what to do. Her mother was always strong and firm and she never buckled. Her face was pained beyond all comparison though.

“I don’t… I don’t think I can. Yet. I just. This was… I hadn’t planned. I knew I would fail and I didn’t want to succeed.”

Eventually, the folder sagged before Lena placed it on the table beside them. Still, her daughter didn’t look up at her, still, she knit her fingers together anxiously.

“I thought I’d be ready for this,” Lena sighed before scooting closer. She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, until she leaned into her mother’s embrace and closed her eyes, feeling all kinds of beaten up.

“Me too.”

“We can do it together, one day. If you’d like.”

“Yeah.”

A hand moved along her back, soothing her, keeping her from losing her mind, but Rosie couldn’t really focus because somehow the world was now very different. She changed absolutely everything and she wanted to take it back.

“I love you. I am so proud of you. Nothing will change that. Not even bad code.”

“I know,” Rosie lied, afraid to believe it.

“Tried to hack your own mother.”

“I thought my software was good, but I think the code is off. I didn’t want to hack you. I think that played out in it. I thought I could save you some pain by lying, but I just… it felt wrong.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Lena chuckled and kissed her daughter’s temple, inhaling the deep smell of her hair.

“Keep me.”

“That’s your mom’s line.”

“I learned from the best.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, anytime, right?”

“I know,” Rosie nodded, sniffling slightly as she relaxed the hold on her mother that she hadn’t realized she’d developed. Her arms were tense and clinging, despite her will to pull them away and regain some space.

“Are you okay, darling?”

“I think so.”

“Let’s eat and head home,” Lena offered. “I’m starving.”

The folder sat on the table as Rosie gathered up her books and laptop before shoving them in her bag. She stared at it and refused to pick it up. She hadn’t expected it to be so simple, and she hadn’t decided what would be best.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” she murmured, picking it up just to hand it back to her mother.

“Whenever you are,” she promised, tucking it into her own bag. “We’ll do it together.”

The folder sat on the kitchen table like a ghost, terrifying to exist at all, haunting her with a malicious kind of evil known only as fear, fear of the unknown and fear of the results. But Lena stared at it anyway, as if she could win, as if it weren’t her greatest fear and the largest threat to her family.

Exhausted, she sipped her wine and stared at it before furrowing, straightening her spine, finishing her glass, and opening the folder.

She had a name. She remembered it and she even went as far as to go see her once, though she never did anything as bold as introduce herself to the mother of her daughter. Instead, Lena gawked and kept walking, her own fear clawing at her insides like an angry cat.

Her daughter wanted to know about her birth parents. That was to be expected, and Lena was good at expecting things. Hell, she half expected to one day hand over the reins of her company to her daughter. She didn’t say that, because she was certain that her daughter wouldn’t grow up like she did, but deep in her heart, in the little chamber that was situated just beside the one that housed her great fear of losing Rosie, was the desire to see her be great, to work with her, to mentor her. But like most else in her life, Lena knew better than to wish something aloud.

Now, all Lena could do was close the folder, too agitated to concentrate on the stolen pictures that had begun to look more and more like her daughter’s features.

“Lena? Hey, I’m sorry, this is the soonest I could get home,” Kara practically slid in through the back, the doors open and waiting and leading in from the yard where Supergirl landed. “She tried to hack your computer?”

“Hey,” Lena whispered as she poured herself another large glass of wine.

“That’s the… the, um, the file?”

“Yeah.”

Kara stared at it, wondering if heat vision was excessive and knowing deep down, that she couldn’t do it, even if she wanted it more than anything else. Instead, she looked back at her beautiful wife and she felt herself soften at the sight.

“Did she… does she know about them? Did she look?”

“No. Not yet.”

“We’ll do it together.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Kara tried, moving closer to her wife.

“She’s just too– too– too smart for her own good,” Lena crossed her arms in front of her chest and brooded in a silent kind of anger, stewed there, as she was known to do.

“What else would you expect?” Kara chuckled. “She’s her mother’s daughter.”

Lena snapped her eyes back at her wife, wounded still but relieved to hear that confirmation, that despite blood and genetics, her daughter was still her daughter. To her wife, she was still that scared, cold orphan, and Kara couldn’t tell Lena how important that part of her personality was, but it formed her and made her brave, made her compassionate and empathetic in non-traditional ways.

“You are a great mom, Lee,” Kara promised, hugging the bundled up ball of worry, tucking her beneath her chin. “She’s just curious. Rosie is everything she is because of you, and she loves you. This doesn’t change anything.”

“I know,” she lied, relaxing into Kara’s chest. “I just… I want to protect her.”

“Me too.”

“Well, then figure out how to keep her from growing up or having her own ideas.”

“Believe me. My life would be infinitely easier if I could figure out how to do that with both of my girls. But then you both wouldn’t be you. And you’re both my favorite people.”

“Stop trying to calm me down.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara smiled and kissed the crown of her head, hiding her smile there. “Won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

“She’s smart. She’s good and kind and brave and curious and I trust her. We both knew this might happen one day.”

“Yeah.”

“You looked for your birth parents.”

“And look what that got me,” Lena snorted. “Confirmation that I was irrevocably linked to those madmen with that last name. And an unmarked grave somewhere.”

“But you know. You found out. You had to know and you found out. All we can do is be there for her.”

“Stop making sense.”

“Okay.”

“I am afraid I’ll lose my daughter, and it hurts,” Lena murmured in the quiet of their home, in the late hour of the night. “I don’t know what to do.”

From her spot on the top of the stairs, Rosie pulled her knees up to her chin and listened to the sniffle that was muffled by the tight hug her mom held her mother in. It was very quiet, and it was the closest she’d ever really heard her to crying, out of sadness. Her mother, the powerful CEO, she was a happy crier, though she’d fight anyone on it. She did not break down, and she certainly didn’t do it in front of her kid.

Deep in her gut, Rosie felt it all twist, the pain she felt she was causing and the burning need to know. If anyone would understand, she thought it’d be her mom, the orphan left on a doorstep, the logical one, the one who thought in facts and figures and made her so smart. But she was just beginning to realize how illogical family was.

“You can’t lose her,” Kara promised. “We’re a family. You can’t lose a family like ours.”

“Okay.”

Their daughter furrowed and quietly pushed herself up from her spot, the same one she always used to listen when they planned trips and punishments and surprises for as long as she could remember, and she slipped back into her room at the end of the hall, suddenly covered with the guilt of hurting the people she loves more than anything else because of a selfish idea.

By the time she fell asleep, she had worked her brain into overdrive and it was spinning. She didn’t notice the door that cracked as Lena stood in the middle of her room and watched her for just a moment. Rosie was already deep in a worried sleep when her mother pulled up the comforter over her restless body and kissed her temple and pushed messy hair out of her face in a tender way that most would not expect from a former Luthor.

On her way to bed, Kara paused at the door as well, fresh from doing her nightly round and turning everything off and locking the doors and setting the alarm. She stood in the doorway and watched her wife love something so hard it seemed impossible. With a smile, she made her way to their room.

Chapter Text

It was rare for the house to be still. There was always something happening, always someone doing or going or coming or staying. But every so often, there weren’t friends that came over after practice, or there weren’t files that needed her mother’s signature, or a book that needed written or read or edited, or research done for work or school. It was just plain quiet on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas week.

The conversation about Rosie’s biological parents hadn’t come back up just yet. The assignment waited to be finished in an empty document on her desktop; no content– just Untitled and completely blank.

As soon as she finished reading her book, she tossed it on the pile, and she rubbed the cat’s ear before sniffing at the air and following the potential smell of family dinner. Soon enough, her aunt and her cousins would be over and the house would be full. Soon enough their little family would be interrupted from the precious kind of peace that they found so rarely.

At the bottom of the stairs, the dog thumped his tail, but just stretched a little more and enjoyed his spot and the quiet.

On the couch, her mother’s sat. Rosie liked them like that. She liked to imagine their lives if she had never been born or found or adopted. She liked them quiet and happy and in love. Most of all, it was the in love part that she liked.

“There’s going to be a Van Gogh exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art,” Lena whispered as she shifted her leg.

Kara just hummed and then sighed. She eclipsed her wife as she blanketed herself across her chest, her head tucked just beneath her chin. Absently, fingernails massaged her scalp and neck and then slipped beneath her shirt, scratching along her spine until she purred.

“We should go,” Lena continued as she flipped the page of the magazine.

“Sure,” Kara agreed, eyes closed and nearly asleep.

Rosie paused there in the doorway and watched them as the cold, winter sunlight beamed across the living room, covering them even more. They were in love.

“Dinner smells good,” Rosie tried, rubbing her arm.

“Hey, honey,” Lena smiled.

“I’m making a roast,” Kara explained. “Come help me squish.”

“I’m too big.”

“You’re never too big to squish.”

That was enough for her. In a second, Rosie was slipping to the back of the couch, squeezing between it and her parents and earning giggles and complaints.

“I’m the smallest. Why am I on the bottom of this dog pile?” Lena groaned as she scoot to adjust, letting her daughter settle on her shoulder as her wife slipped to the side, sharing the warmth and the comfort.

“Because you’re the most comfortable,” Kara reminded her.

“That’s always been the rule,” Rosie nodded.

The two shared a look as Lena rolled her eyes and let her magazine drop to the floor. She played with their hair as they all settled just as they did when their daughter was barely a toddler and they were too tired to move to the bed. It was familiar and theirs.

“Homework done for the break?”

“Almost.”

“Good. The cabin awaits,” Kara smiled and closed her eyes, susceptible to her wife’s soothing hands the most.

“What’s left?” Lena tried.

“My. Um. My. Well. The thing. Um. My family tree,” she managed. Lena kissed her daughter’s head and sighed slightly. “I think it might be time to look in the folder.”

“Whenever you want,” Kara promised. “We’ll be right here with you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Not tonight,” Rosie yawned and snuggled deeper into her mother’s shoulder. “Tomorrow. Maybe.”

“Tomorrow sounds good,” Lena managed, despite the heaviness in her heart.

Perhaps it was a weird kind of nostalgia. Perhaps it was this research into a parallel past. But for her family tree project, Rosie eased herself into it, still very much afraid of the folder that remained on the table in the first floor. She ignored that part, and started with the members of her family at hand.

“This feels like when you were ten and wanted to be a reporter,” Kara laughed as her daughter set up her video camera and microphone. “Remember when you asked for a tape recorder for Christmas? You were a super weird kid.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Still, the only time I remember Snapper smiling.”

“Save the remembering for the interview, please.”

“Okay, okay,” Kara gave in while Rosie dug for her notebook of questions. “Who else are you interviewing?”

“Everyone.”

“Good luck getting your aunt on camera.”

“She already agreed,” she stuck out her tongue.

“She’s such a sap,” Kara rolled her eyes.

Kara would have never admitted it. She couldn’t even tell her wife or sister, and so she kept the secret. But it didn’t stop her from actually opening the folder late one night while her wife and daughter were on a short business trip one weekend. For a few hours, she worked at home on her book, and she walked into the kitchen to get snacks and passed it. A few hours later, she walked around the house and talked on the phone and touched it before quickly retracting her hand. When her take out was delivered, Kara finally succumbed to her own wandering thoughts.

As if she were doing something illicit, Kara looked around the house and waited to see if someone would catch her peaking. While she ate, she scanned Lena’s file and met her mother’s daughter for the first time.

There was a moment she distinctly remembered. When Lena was carrying the baby as they walked through the park, and she confessed about looking and finding the woman. Kara understood it, but they had the paperwork. That was what Kara promised her wife who was madly in love with the little girl. The new little family walked through the park on the sunny day, and Lena felt so guilty and Kara assured her, and vowed to never ask any questions because she saw the toll that knowing held on her wife.

And then the file appeared and her daughter asked questions. She was confronted with it.

So she ate her food and she stared at the pictures of the woman who gave up the perfect baby, and she hated every second of it. Together, she promised her daughter, and yet there she sat, alone and very much understanding her wife’s fear.

Instead, she looked around and left her empty cartons of food on the table. She walked outside and took off a second later, desperately doing her best to locate the strange woman.

A few hours later and a search on the DEO computer, Kara hovered outside of a building and watched Amy Carvallo and tried not to feel nervous.

The following day, Kara blended into the crowd and followed her for a few blocks before berating herself and picking up donuts on her way home to see her girls.

Kara could never tell Lena.

“Why do I have to sit here? Can’t we be less obnoxious?” her aunt furrowed, nervously twitching as she looked around the park.

“I want it to feel natural,” Rosie informed her as she squared up the shot on her camera. “Just act natural.”

“Maggie’s better at this.”

“Aunt Maggie doesn’t know all of the good stuff.”

“And I do?”

“You do. Okay. Are we ready?” she smiled. “This is Interview Number One for the Danvers Family Tree: Alex Danvers, aunt to me, and sister to my mother, Kara Danvers.”

“Also badass FBI agent.”

“And that,” Rosie laughed, off camera. “Now I want this to feel like we’re just having a conversation. So I have a few questions, but I want you to feel free to talk about anything.”

“Because answering personal questions always makes me comfortable,” Alex sighed and shook her head before attempting a smile.

The park was not that busy, and the afternoon sunshine was nice. This was Rosie’s attempt to work her way up to big important questions. If she started small, she could work up to asking someone why they abandoned her. Maybe.

So she looked at her notecards and prepared to take the step.

“What were my moms like before I was born… or came around, I guess?”

“Oh, well, I guess they were pretty much the same.”

“Okay… well, what changed? What were they like? How would you describe them?” she pressed, already knowing she was going to have to work for answers.

“They were actually kind of miserable before you, like right before, I mean,” Alex answered after giving it a thought. “They were happy, but after losing the baby, and then the adoptions falling through, they were just… Kara is always happy. She’s always so strong and kind, and she still was those things, she was also just not the same. And Lena… she grows on you and I couldn’t imagine what they went through.”

“Lost the baby?” Rosie furrowed.

“And why would you know that…” she shook her head and pinched her eyes. “This is a bad idea, Rosie.”

“Just calm down, Aunt Alex. Just talk to me about our family.”

Still uncomfortable, Alex leaned back on the bench and squinted out at the field and the city beyond the treetops. All Rosie could do was try to process and really start to wonder about curiosity and cat killing.

“The first week that your moms had you, they barely slept and couldn’t stop worrying. Literally. They were messes and very in love with you. I remember I went to visit Lena the first day you were going to go to daycare, just to check on her,” she recalled, smiling slightly to herself as she pictured the memory. “And I get to her office, and she has you in her arms, sleeping on her chest as she prepares for a meeting, and has the president of a foreign company on speaker phone.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. The only reason she put you in daycare was because Kara convinced her you needed to spend time with kids. That’s also why she put a daycare in LCorp.”

They both laughed at how ridiculous the former Luthor could be.

“I always thought it was just there,” Rosie shrugged after thinking for a moment.

“Nope. And Kara wasn’t better. She loved to show you off. You did this thing, where you twirled your pacifier, and she’d sit you on her desk at work and everyone would watch. An entire reporting bullpen entranced by you.”

“They’re not too bad, I guess.”

“Yeah, they’re big wimps.”

“What about your parents?” Rosie tried, switching it up a little.

“Oh, well, Grandma, of course. She was, no, she is, she’s a great mom,” Alex ventured. “And my dad, you never got to know him. He was funny. Very funny. And silly. Smart. They’re both scientists. It was just me until I was about fourteen, and then your mom showed up.”

“Adopted, right?”

“Yeah. She was my sister from the second I met her though. I think sometimes that’s just how it works. You know?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “So technically, even if I was stretching it, my family tree doesn’t go past my mom?”

“What do you mean?”

“My mom’s adopted, just like me. So your parents aren’t her parents.”

“Family is complicated. Did you know that there are studies about how behavior and environment are bigger determinants of how you turn out as an adult?” Alex offered, noticing how quickly Rosie displaced herself. “Your family tree follows the Danvers’ line. They were loggers from France turned fishermen, turned explorers, turned soldiers, turned scientists. We’re proud of where we come from. You come from that.”

For a long while, Rosie thought about it, though she felt little connection and pride that her aunt exhibited, she accepted it, hoping that just agreeing would make it true. All she felt a connection to was her mothers. There had to be something in that, or at least she hoped.

“Do you know anything about my birth parents?”

“No,” Alex shook her head. “But I do know that your moms are ridiculously in love with you.”

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded, dismissing the silly fact. She didn’t need reassurances of facts. That was not helpful at all thought she appreciated it.

“Anymore questions for me?”

“Maybe another time.”

“I’m exhausted,” Kara groaned as she flopped into the giant bed.

Slowly, she sunk into the duvet, a whole entire starfish, covering much of it. Her entire body ached and throbbed with the workout her sister put her through, and still, she showered and shrugged on clean clothes and flopped in the bed.

“You missed dinner,” Lena reminded her as she turned another page in her book. “I left some for you on the stove.”

“I know. I ate it.”

“Should have known,” she chuckled.

Normally they weren’t as quiet, normally, Lena was a bit more eager. But things were weird, despite her wife’s insistence that they weren’t. Their daughter was away for the night with friends, and normally that meant candles and fireworks in bed.

Kara slowly rolled and scooted closer toward the other figure in the bed. It was slow going, but it was necessary and natural. She didn’t have much to fix it, but she needed to be closer.

“How was work?” she ventured when she reached Lena’s lap, draping herself across it.

“Not bad. I have a trip next month. Maybe you and Rosie can come.”

“Sounds good.”

It took a few minutes, but Kara felt her pillow relax. She felt a warm hand move to her back and begin to rub, to drag her nails under her shirt, and despite the ache in her bones, she shifted and melted into it.

“Your daughter is filming family interviews for her family tree project.”

“She’s my daughter now?” Kara snorted, hugging Lena’s thighs through the blankets. The book turned another page.

“She is when she’s vexing. You know this.”

“How is she vexing you this time, love?”

“She wants to question me,” Lena sighed and shook her head. Her hand moved to Kara’s neck where it gently rubbed. “I don’t really know what to say about family.”

“We should talk about the folder.”

“Or, we could make out. I’m wearing new lacey things you can destroy.”

“Lena…”

“Fine,” she humphed and crossed her arms. “I’d rather not.”

“I know,” Kara chuckled slightly and hovered, pulling her wife flat beneath her. “But believe me, we are definitely getting back to the destroying of lacey things.”

Lena smiled despite the worry that weighed on her and held her wife’s neck, grasping at her shoulders. She liked her often. Kara had strong shoulders and she had a kissable neck that made her wiggle.

“I’m nervous. This movie is scary. Talking and family are my least favorite things.”

“But you love your daughter.”

“I do.”

“When I met you, you had a lot of questions about family. Remember?” Kara pressed. “You wanted to find your birth family because you just had to know–”

“And look how that turned out for me,” she grunted.

“You had to know and that is exactly how our daughter is. She’s too much like you. Therefore, your daughter is vexing.”

It was best to speak in calming tones laced with humor. That was how one kept a Luthor from bolting or locking themselves away in their own head. A little bit of that, and a lot of physical contact. Like a cow about to be slaughtered, they did best with pressure and calming touches. Kara learned many ways of helping her cope. She considered herself an expert.

“She’s your daughter when she makes me talk about feelings and such,” Lena argued after a heavy exhale.

“That’s true,” Kara smiled before propping herself on an elbow as she pushed hair from her wife’s face. She kissed her cheek and nose and lips. “She loves you, Lee. She loves us, and we’re a family. A stranger isn’t going to change that, but she needs to know what happened.”

“I know.”

“If you’re okay with it, then she’ll be okay with it.”

“I know.”

“You can do this. We can do this.”

“I know.”

“Good. Now, you said something about new lace?” Kara smirked and earned an eye roll. “What color is it? How much does it cover? I need percentages here.”

“Shut up,” Lena shook her head and pushed her wife slightly, while at the same time tugging her back to her. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“This is interview number eight of the Family Tree project,” Rosie dictated as she finished setting up the shot on the camera. “Please state your name and relationship to me.”

“My name is Lena Danvers, I’m your mother.”

“Perfect,” she perked up. “See? I told you this would be easy.”

With a small smiled and chuckled, Lena sipped her coffee and pulled her knee up on the couch. Her daughter sat across from her in the living room, scanning over a notebook filled with questions. It was not how she wanted to spend a free Saturday afternoon, but Lena was promised a girls night with her family, and so she took this.

“Tell me about your life,” Rosie began, getting the furrow of someone set about a task. “Before me.”

“Where should I start?”

“This is a family tree, so if you could run down where you come from, that’d be helpful.”

“I was adopted at the age of five, and that’s about all I remember,” Lena shrugged. “I have a half-brother, named Lex.”

“Tell me about him.”

“I’m sure you can google many things,” Lena snorted as she drank her coffee. “But before he was all of those things, he was my big brother. He was funny and smart. He… he was my family.”

“What did he think about getting a new little sister?”

“He was excited. He could have been someone who got angry, but he didn’t,” Lena smiled at the past for just a second. “I was his friend. He taught me everything he knew, always included me, pushed me to be smart or think of things in different ways. He was a good person for a brief time in his life.”

“You haven’t talked to him?”

“Not in twenty years.”

“Would you?”

Lena thought about it for a second, and hid away as she searched for the answer out the windows.

“My brother is long gone. I don’t know who that person is,” she shrugged. “I’ve learned that the bonds of family are only as strong as you make them. The sibling bond wasn’t strong enough to keep. That’s just how it goes sometimes.”

The quiet sat around the room, and still Rosie looked at her notebook, already off topic and eager to ask a lot of questions she’d avoided because it would hurt her mom. Now, her mother seemed a little more open and at ease. She wasn’t sure how to press it, but she was excited. It wasn’t that things were ever explicitly off limits, but that she was respectful of not hurting their feelings.

But Lena told her to ask anything, and she was ready.

“What about your parents?”

“My father was Lionel Luthor. He died about ten years ago,” she recounted, “And my stepmother was Lillian Luthor. My father had an affair, and so she was not too happy that I existed, or that my father decided to take care of me. But I was raised a Luthor.”

“What does that mean?”

“I was raised to be the best, to fight, to play dirty, to be proud. Just normal family stuff.”

“I’m kind of glad you didn’t raise me like a Luthor,” Rosie decided.

“That’s because when I became a Danvers, I decided that was going to be the end of the Luthor line.”

“Good choice.”

“I agree,” Lena chuckled and shook her head.

“What about your mother?”

“When I was a teenager, I decided to investigate. I got in a lot of trouble with my father. It took a lot more time and effort, but I found her. She died when I was five, right before Lionel took me. He must have found out. She came from nowhere. A waitress in a bar he frequented. Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about her family.”

“So the Luthor line is actually your family tree?”

“Yeah, it would appear so,” she hummed. “I don’t think you’ll get many interviews with any of them.”

“The police denied my request for Lex.” Lena laughed and nodded to herself. “It appears my family tree hit a bit of a dead end.”

“You can track the Luthors back a good way. And the Danvers.”

Rosie rolled her eyes and she looked back at her notes.

“Aunt Alex said you didn’t want a family at first.”

“Aunt Alex is an expertly trained field agent for the FBI and yet she divulges all kinds of stuff, doesn’t she?” Lena shook her head, earning a smile from her daughter. “You should be a reporter like your mother.”

“No way,” Rosie disagreed. “I’m going to be the CEO of a company that helps people.”

“Oh?”

As a kid, Rosie used to say things like, she wanted to be a doctor and a vet and an astronaut and Supergirl. Never once did CEO come up. But it distracted her enough to make her heart throb excitedly. It made sense why she hung around the company and asked a lot of questions. It felt nice to be her choice.

“You didn’t want a family?”

“Have you met your mother?” Lena challenged. “I was afraid. I was afraid of ruining a kid like I thought I’d been messed up.”

“What changed?”

“Kara Danvers. I met Kara, and she made me feel very normal. And she made me believe I’d be a good mom.”

“How did she do that?” Rosie wondered, not realizing her mother was once not her mother. It was a new and terrifying concept.

“She brought a stupid mangy dog home. And then we decided we wanted to be moms and help. So we tried, and we, uh… we lost a baby,” she recalled, her voice getting heavy as she remembered it all. She tried not to think about it sometimes. Others, it was painfully obvious.

“And then you couldn’t have anymore?”

“It was hard the first time. And later, we tried to adopt, but it fell through.”

“None of that deterred you?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I assumed the universe meant that we weren’t supposed to… that I wasn’t supposed to be a mom.”

“Because you had a crappy childhood?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged and smiled. “I really didn’t think I could do it. And then Supergirl showed up one day with an abandoned newborn, and your mother gave me those stupid eyes and smile and told me it was just a couple days.”

“And then you kept me. Who decided to keep me?”

“I did. Well, Kara did, too. But I said you were staying.”

“What about my birth mother?”

Lena paused and debated what to say. She heard her wife moving around upstairs while the dog stretched, his nails skating along the floor by the stairs. Her cup was empty, but still she gripped it tightly.

“I found her and… I couldn’t talk to her, but I saw her. You look like her. All I know is her name and that when I saw her, she was not in a position to take care of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that she did the best she could. She realized that she couldn’t give you a good life, and I can’t fathom the choice she made, but I do understand it, if that makes sense.”

“But what does that mean?”

“When I lost our baby, I never thought the pain would stop. And we had a nursery made up before the girl gave the baby to someone else, and still, I thought the pain would kill me, and I hadn’t held them. They were just ideas. I was in love with these ideas,” Lena argued. “Your birth mother held you and knew that you deserved better, and for that, I can never imagine the weight of it.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?”

“She loves you,” her mother promised.

For a moment, Rosie didn’t know what to say, and so she pulled a page from her mother’s book, and she looked down at her notebook before adjusting nervously with all of these new facts and feelings. She was going to take over at LCorp, and she was going to be a Danvers forever. New information made her more sure of that, but also very nervous.

Lena watched all kinds of emotions cross her daughter’s face, and she understood it because she went through it once, all alone. It was exhausting to have those feelings and thoughts.

“This is about you though,” Rosie cleared her throat. “For my family tree, I want to ask my mom questions.”

“We’ll find her.”

“No, you,” she corrected. “I want to hear everything about you.”

“You know it all,” Lena smiled, bigger than ever imaginable.

“What did you think when you saw me for the first time? What did you think when you saw Mom for the first time? What was your favorite moment with our family? What made you want to have a fam–”

“Okay, okay, one at a time, please.”

“I want to know everything.”

Lena felt oddly proud, to have survived the difficult part of the questioning. She felt as if it wasn’t that hard, though she knew that it was. Instead, her daughter just wanted to know more and not run away, and that was enough.

“The first time I saw your mom, I genuinely thought I was going to die.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Kara offered once again as they all sat at the table. “It’s perfectly fine.”

“There are only a few options that will happen when we look inside,” Rosie nodded to herself as she felt the cool table beneath her palms as she braced herself. “First, I meet her, and she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Second, she wants me around. Third, we can’t find her again. Or fourth, we don’t look.”

“Nothing changes here,” Lena nodded, more for herself than her daughter.

As the voice of reason, Kara looked between the two of them and noticed how absolutely astoundingly similar they were. So much so, that it was like mirror images on opposite sides of the table. It made her relax a little bit, weirdly enough. She was sandwiched between two very passionate, very curious, very confused little girls, who just couldn’t situate themselves in the universe. And that was enough.

“Nothing changes at all. We’re still a family,” Kara promised, holding her wife’s hand.

“I’m going to look now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

For too long, Lena held her breath and watched her daughter look at the images she’d collected. All at once, she knew her heart would break, and she knew that there was nothing she could do about it, and so she just squeezed her wife’s hand and took a deep, ragged breath as she waited.

“She…” Rosie swallowed and flipped through a few pages. “She was addicted to something? In treatment?”

“I donated to the place when I found out where she went,” Lena promised. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“She gave me up because she was an addict? What about my father?”

“You’d have to ask her,” Kara sighed and reached for her daughter’s hand.

“I thought it’d be different. I don’t… I kind of look like her, right?” She held up the old picture from the folder.

“You do,” Lena smiled.

“We can find her again,” Kara offered. “And go meet her.”

Rosie couldn’t say it out loud for some reason, but as much as she wanted to know the answers, staring at the woman who gave her up left her feeling hollow and disconnected where she thought a sense of understanding should have washed over her. Nothing was changed or fixed, and if anything she was left feeling more confused than ever. But still, she nodded.

“Right here is good?” Kara asked as she adjusted herself and fidgeted while her daughter gave directions and set up her camera angle. “Why did your mom get to do this on the couch and I have to do it on the piano bench?”

“Because it’s a movie.”

“You’re going to be a director now?”

“I’m taking over LCorp, didn’t you know that?”

“I didn’t,” Kara chuckled. “I’m sure your mother will be happy.”

“I think she thinks I’m joking.”

“She’s afraid of good things. Give her time.”

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Rosie decided after adjusting the lens just a little more. “Try to sit still and not use your hands to talk so much.”

“I don’t!”

“This is interview number fifteen, with Kara Danvers, my mom,” she ignored her and whispered into the camera. “I just have a few questions to follow up with and then we’re done.”

“Just one more interview after me, huh?”

“Yeah,” Rosie swallowed and tried not to think about it. “Tell me about your parents.”

“Get right to it, huh?” Kara chuckled nervously before really thinking about it. “So I was adopted at the age of twelve. My birth family and adoptive family are both very important to me.”

“I already interviewed grandma and Aunt Alex. So tell me about your birth parents.”

There weren’t many memories that Rosie had of her mother talking about Krypton. That seemed very weird to her. There were ceremonies and beliefs and customs– Kara kept those alive, passing them onto her daughter, but there was not any real mention of the heart of those Kryptonian stories.

“My mom was very kind. I remember her hands the most, as weird as that might sound,” Kara smiled, adjusting her glasses as she conjured up some images. “They were always touching me. Holding my cheek, moving my hair. She was smart, and she’d do this thing where she would cock her head a certain way sometimes.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Every day.”

“And your father?”

“He was always just so very smart and I remember him never making me feel stupid. He always encouraged me.”

“Do you think they’d like me?”

“Their granddaughter who is too smart for her own good? Oh yeah,” Kara snorted. “They’d love you. Probably corrupt you with lots of science and stuff.”

“Like Mom does?”

“Worse.”

Rosie smiled at the idea of more people loving her. She loved the idea of fitting into this weird, slapped together family that she was somehow responsible for representing despite no genetic links.

“What made you want to marry Mom?”

“The first time I met your mom, I was there to get a quote, back before I was even a reporter. Aunt Cat was my boss.” Rosie laughed at that. “She was at her desk, and she looked up at me, and I swear I couldn’t breathe. That was the moment I decided to marry her. It wasn’t until a few weeks later, when she was over for dinner and she spent the night, I wanted to. She was just so… she is very stubborn. And she is good and funny. Something about someone who is in love with life and who understands pain. Plus she’s so pretty, sometimes my brain doesn’t know how to make words.”

“Wow.”

“What was her answer?”

“She said that you were the sun,” Rosie smiled and watched her mother blush.

They were so in love, it was disgustingly cute. It also made Rosie unsure of how she would ever find a love like that.

“What do you think a family is?”

“We’re a family.”

“But what does it mean?”

“Well, it means loving and being safe together. Family should always be the safest space for everyone. I’ve learned that family is more who you choose, and the people who are loyal and loving to you without having any reason to be other than they want to be near. That’s a family.”

“Mom said she didn’t want me.”

“Oh yeah, she got really mad at me,” Kara laughed at the description. “She’s this hard onion. You have to understand, by the time Supergirl brought you to us in the middle of the night, she had just made herself okay with not having kids.”

“So she didn’t want me?”

“Not at all. She yelled at me. She said she didn’t want you. Saying and doing are very different though,” her mother explained, still amused at it. “I asked her to hold you while I made a bottle, and the second I put you in her arms, you were her’s. I could barely get you back.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” she agreed excitedly. “She wouldn’t put you down. I came home a few days later, and you were asleep on her chest while she worked on something. I tried to put you in the crib, and she was not having it. She said, ‘We’re keeping her,’ and that was it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Hold on.”

In a second, she was gone, sprinting up the stairs, leaving her daughter slightly confused and excited to see what she would bring. She knew her mother would be the easiest interview. She liked when she told stories.

“Where’s your mom?” Lena came in, eating half a sandwich, the dog trailing alongside, hoping to find anything dropped.

“She sprinted out to find something.”

“See? I was a much better interviewee?”

“It’s not a competition.”

“A little bit,” she teased. “Oh no, not the shoebox.”

Kara appeared once again, triumphant and tugging a shoebox that was taped together and very, very old. It looked well loved and often looked through, though it was very unfamiliar with Rosie. She thought she knew everything, and yet she now had a new artifact.

“Excuse me, darling, but this is my interview,” Kara taunted. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”

“What’s this?” Rosie furrowed, moving her camera to take in the new scene.

Despite her wife’s teasing, Lena didn’t stop from sitting on the ground as the box was placed there. The dog sniffed at her neck as she shoved him away.

“This, my dear, is the unofficial history of the Danvers, of us.” With a grand flourish, Kara started to open the lid before closing it again. “This is everything that has ever mattered. All of my favorite moments.”

“Just show her already,” Lena rolled her eyes.

It was a whole weird collection of things, Rosie realized. There were ticket stubs and stickers, pictures and pamphlets, key cards and old badges and dog tags, a pacifier and even a shirt. Slowly, they all excavated the remnants of their life together, each remembering to remember different things.

“This is the picture,” Kara held up one proudly. “This is the second night we had you.”

“Oh God, I look so young,” Lena gasped. “That’s the old apartment. And Freddy.”

“She thought you didn’t want her.”

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, you just didn’t know it,” Kara corrected. “Look,” she showed her daughter. “She would not let you go. Called off work, took you shopping as a newborn, and let you use her like a mattress for a week.”

“Wow,” Rosie grinned.

The all started taking out different things. The battery on the camera began to wane an hour later, but still, they kept looking and laughing.

Chapter Text

As much as she knew her mothers would go with her, Rosie couldn’t do it with them. She just couldn’t, and so she got off the bus in an unfamiliar neighborhood after hacking into the police database and doing a little bit more of her own research.

She shouldered her bag and she took a deep breath as she walked down the street, occasionally looking at her phone for directions to the restaurant.

Her movie was almost done, and for some reason, Rosie felt happier than ever with her family. She just couldn’t shake this final thing she had to do, and she was raised to be brave and kind and so she couldn’t do it to her parents. They wanted to be there and hold her hand, and she couldn’t let them be that selfless.

The bell rang as she entered the little coffee shop. It was warm and smelled like bread and coffee and everything sweet. There was a few people throughout, relaxing and meeting, they didn’t do anything to notice her at all.

Rosie scanned the shop, looking for a face she didn’t mean to memorize. She slid into a seat before deciding on an order, and she tried to blend in while also searching.

Just like that, she suddenly existed in a room with the woman who left her on a subway train. Just like that, she suddenly spotted a woman, and waited for the connection to zap into her being, though nothing came at all. Instead, Rosie just sat her bag down on the ground and stared and waited for something to happen.

Eventually, she set up her laptop and camera to work on editing footage. She slid an earbud into one ear and listened with the other to the happening of the tiny world. About an hour into her watching, and still afraid to say anything, her phone buzzed, and she texted her mother that she was at the library.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a voice interrupted her texting back about dinner.

Slowly, Rosie lifted her eyes and followed the apron up to the collar, to a familiar face, to eyes that were very similar to her own. Her mouth went completely dry and her heart turned into that of a hummingbird’s.

“Can I get you anything? You look like you’re working hard. We have coffee and really good cinnamon buns.”

Still, she stared back and cleared her throat.

“No? I also have some donuts and apple twists. Tea, cakes, you name it, we try to make it well.”

Only silence existed as Rosie desperately tried to talk, her brain screaming at her tongue to do something, and it all getting jumbled in her cerebral cortex.

“You look… do I know you from somewhere?” the waitress furrowed and searched the weird, quiet patron’s face.

“Tea is fine. Green tea, if you have it.”

“I’m sure we do,” she smiled sweetly. “Back in a flash.”

As soon as she was back behind the counter, Rosie let out an entire lungs worth of air and felt her hands begin to shake. She hadn’t fully anticipated the telling part. Somehow she had to say things, and she couldn’t even order coffee properly.

Halfway through her belittling of herself, the door dinged again, and a pair of kids ran in with a gentleman following, lugging their colorful school bags and chiding them about being quiet. They were young, in no more than kindergarten and second grade, but they were cute enough, and obviously familiar with the place enough to feel comfortable to climb up on the stools and lean over the railing.

“Hi, babies,” the waitress greeted. “How was school?”

Kids. They were her kids.

Rosie shook her head and felt the blaring signals in her head telling her to bolt, and unlike just a minute ago, she decided to listen to them. Quickly, she shoved her camera in her bag and resigned herself to running scared.

“Sorry about that. The noise will die down. My kids are on the way out,” the waitress explained. “Sorry if they disturbed you.”

The mug of tea slid across the small table, joined by a delicious looking donut on a separate plate.

“Kids?”

“Those are mine,” she nudged over her shoulder. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“No, thank you.” With that, she tossed a few bills on the table, gathered up what was left on the table, and bolted out of the café without looking back.

Rosie couldn’t leave. She left, but she couldn’t leave. So she sat at the bus stop and tried to clear her head, while at the same time, her brain did nothing but cloud it even more.

She had siblings. She had two siblings. She had a brother and a sister. She hadn’t thought of that part, of her… of Amy moving on and having a life. That was blindsiding.

Rosie sat and thought for a good, long while. She wondered if it was smart, she wondered if she could even meet this person. She wondered what to say, until she knew the words. She knew them but couldn’t articulate them. And she gathered a bit of spine and she nodded to herself as the sun went down, and she knew it was for herself. It was better to know. Her moms said as much, and her mother missed her chance, not finding out until it was too late that her birth mother was dead. Rosie didn’t want to risk any freak accidents when she came this close.

The bell dinged once more as she pushed through the door of the café.

Her mother was once the best superhero in the entire world, who lifted trains and stared at dangerous creatures and wasn’t afraid. Her mom took over entire companies and survived terrible things people said about her, and still she was hopeful and alive. Rosie could do this.

“Everything okay?” the same waitress greeted her as she approached the counter.

“Amy Carvallo?”

“I haven’t been called that in about ten years,” she smiled and searched the stranger’s face. “How can I help you?”

“Sixteen years, almost seventeen years, you left a baby on a train.”

Rosie said it very straight and very honest because like her mom said, there was no reason to stray from the facts. The facts were like a lion, able to defend themselves. She watched the stranger’s face go ghostly white.

“You’re…,” she gulped.

“I had a project to do. I was wondering if you would let me ask–”

“You have to go,” she shook her head. “You were… you were a different life. You have to… I can’t.”

It was hard enough to think of saying words to this woman who gave her away, so much so that Rosie never considered what she might say back. It stung more than she would have liked.

“I wanted to ask you–”

“Please. I’m sorry.”

The door rang again and the kids from earlier approached, racing to hug their mother. And all Rosie could do was disappear.

There was a sense, a cosmic understanding, a special way of figuring things out, that Lena just always knew what her daughter was feeling, no matter how hard she tried to find it. Kara attributed it to the fact that Lena was constantly in awe of, and therefore, constantly watching Rosie as a child. But she also believed it was just because their family was meant to be.

“Something’s up with the kid,” Lena muttered as they laid in bed reading.

But it never surprised Kara to hear Lena say such things. Her wife had premonitions often, which she described as an ability to read subtle clues on people she knew well. Kara rolled her eyes and put her book down on her lap.

“She seemed fine today.”

“She was off,” Lena corrected. “Something happened.”

“You’re worrying too much. It’s the video and how it’s coming to an end. There’s only one interview left.”

“Kara, I’m serious. Something is off with Rosie.”

With a heavy sigh, Kara tossed her book on the nightstand and rolled over toward her wife. Lena was the worrier, and she took the job seriously. There wasn’t a day that she wasn’t going out of her mind about something. Often, it was their daughter. Most of the time, it was global warming.

“What do you think is wrong with her?” Kara asked, knowing how to deal with this mood already. She learned how to weather her wife’s moods constantly.

“Obviously it has something to do with finishing her project. Do you think I pushed her too hard? Should we have talked to her about this sooner?”

“I think we wanted to forget. I know I did. I kind of just… I made myself not think about it because it was easier and because I knew that it would hurt her. In some way, it would.”

“She’s quiet,” Lena nodded, staring at the door at the other side of their room. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Just love her, and be there when she needs it. Believe it or not, you raised a pretty independent and resourceful young lady, Ms. Luthor.”

“Don’t call me that,” she smiled despite herself.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Danvers. I just think it’s important to remember that the next Luthor to take over the company will be another Danvers. I’m pretty impressed.”

“She doesn’t want to run LCorp,” Lena disagreed, settling into her wife’s arms despite her distracted brain.

“No kid wants to hang out at their mom’s job. That girl is obsessed with you,” Kara promised, kissing her wife’s cheek and temple, wrapping her arms around her tighter. “And she’s okay. She’s tough.”

“I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m telling you– something is up.”

“I know, I know,” she soothed. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Do you think she’s on drugs?”

Kara couldn’t help the laugh that came from her chest. It was so sudden, and emerged so completely, that she was almost startled by it. Lena pushed herself up on her elbow and looked at her wife, already disappointed in the reaction.

“I’m sorry, but that’s… no. There’s no way.”

“Do you think it’s a boy?”

“She tells you everything,” Kara shook her head, tugging Lena close again to soothe her worried mind. “There’s no way she has a secret boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Oh honey, that girl is straighter than straight.”

“What is it then?”

“She’s sixteen years old,” Kara shrugged. “That’s a debilitating disease enough. That’s why I kind of just let her exist and don’t read too much into every frown or furrow.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I know, I know,” she lied, cooing against the grump in her arms.

“If you wouldn’t have brought a stupid baby home, none of this would have happened.”

“I know.”

Kara closed her eyes and smiled. In her arms was the girl that changed her entire world, and there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be, even if she was slightly crazy and very unreasonable. But gradually, she felt the CEO relax and give into the warmth and the arms and the lips that murmured and kissed what they could reach.

“Rosie is fine. I’m fine. We’re all okay,” Kara promised.

“I love you,” Lena whispered, tugging Kara’s arm tighter around her own body.

“For someone who didn’t want a kid, you’re kind of a great mom.”

“I learned from you.”

Under the blankets, their legs shifted together. Kara smiled and hid it in her wife’s shoulder, content to have her back to normal for the night, amazed that she was still able to bring her back down from inside her head.

“So… do you want to fool around?” Kara murmured as they stilled.

At first she earned an elbow in the ribs. Just after that was a kiss that took her breath away, and she had her answer. Gratefully, she didn’t have any follow up questions.

“Hey, I’m thinking we try that new Moroccan place tonight,” Kara said as she did something on the other end of the phone. “Rosie is going over to Alex’s to work on the movie, and I haven’t romanced my wife in two weeks.”

“I cooked for you and wore that new Agent Provocateur corset three days ago,” Lena rolled her eyes and signed her name on a few documents as she sat at the small table in the corner of a café and worked the day away. “That wasn’t romantic enough for you, darling?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that was… yeah, plenty romantic,” she recalled, swallowing a lot of other adjectives to describe it, getting awfully sidetracked in her memory of the weekend when their daughter was at a friend’s house and they were alone.

“I hope I’m not so forgettable.”

“I haven’t thought of much else since, if we’re being honest,” Kara snorted. “But I know you’ve been stressed with the merger and your daughter, and I wanted to help you relax. A proper date. I’m courting you, Lena Danvers.”

“We’re married.”

“Courting!”

“I have an errand to run after work, but maybe a late dinner?” Lena compromised, checking her watch quickly. “Say around eight?”

“Eight. I’ll meet you there. I’ll be the one in the hot little red number.”

“Oh?” her interest was piqued. “Red you say?”

“I have a fancy black card too,” Kara reminded her. “And I had a minute to do some shopping. If you’re a good date, you might find out what else I bought.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Kara Danvers?” Lena smiled, blushing still at the idea of her wife. Something about Kara always just earned the same reaction of disbelief and awe.

“Me? Never. I’m simply extending a cordial invitation to dine together.”

“I know what I’m hungry for already.”

“Lena!”

“You’re allowed to make innuendos and I’m not?” she chuckled, stacking her work in a new, neat pile and smiling to herself victoriously. She absently scrolled through some email on her tablet and sipped coffee, knowing full well she got a perfect little blush from her wife.

“I’ll see you at eight.”

“I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Lena was over the moon excited, still feeling the remnants of ancient butterflies floating about because her wife asked her on a date. For a moment, she didn’t dread the rest of her day.

But today was the day. She wouldn’t tell her wife this part, or that she’d left the office almost two hours early, just so she could sit in the small café and watch the woman who gave birth to her daughter.

Frantically, Lena kept looking up from her work at the woman she’d come to memorize. There was a slight tilt to her nose that was almost Rosie’s, though Lena was almost sure it must have been her father. She had those eyes though, and the chin. The curls though, that wasn’t to be seen. It might have been frustration or jealousy, but Lena nitpicked everything until she was just a stranger with no tie to her daughter.

It was stupid, and Lena should have been excited or getting ready for her date. Instead, she was having a hell of a time coming to terms with her life at the moment.

“Hey, can I fill you up?” a voice interrupted her thoughts as she stared at a few more emails.

“Hm? Yes. What? Okay. Sure. Yes,” she managed as she met the eyes of her daughter.

“You look like you’re hard at work,” she smiled. “You visiting town on business?”

“I live here, actually.”

“We don’t get many Mason Street types down here,” the waitress smiled, laughing it away.

Nervously, she smiled awkwardly as Lena stared back with nothing but rapt attention. The gaze was intense, and it took her fidgeting slightly for Lena to blink and clear her throat.

“Thank you.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do,” the waitress furrowed and cocked her head, breaking Lena’s heart. “I recognize you now. You’re Lena Luthor.”

“Danvers,” the CEO corrected. “Been married about twenty years now.”

“Right, sorry,” she smiled, happy with herself. “I just never thought I’d have the most powerful woman in the country or world in my little coffee shop.”

“I do enjoy a good cup of coffee, just like normal people.”

“I didn’t mean… I just… It’s kind of amazing.”

“It is,” Lena nodded, staring back at her expectantly, waiting for her to know, to just understand. But it wasn’t coming, and her stomach burned.

“Well if you need anything else, just let me know–”

“You left a baby on a train sixteen, almost seventeen years ago,” the CEO blurted, unable to stop herself.

The look of horror evident on the waitresses face was the most grotesque thing she’d ever seen, but still, Lena couldn’t back away.

“There’s no– You– she–”

Without asking, Amy took a seat and stared, dizzy and dazed at the table, her eyes wide and her mouth kind of sputtering to find something.

“She wants to meet you. I don’t know how to do this, but as her mother, I think–”

“I can’t. I told her I can’t. I’m sorry. That was a different life. I’m a different person. I have a family now, a business. I just–” she looked helplessly at Lena before steadying herself. “She’s not my daughter. I have a life, and kids, and I gave up all of my vices. She is from another person who doesn’t exist anymore.”

“She’s your daughter.”

“She did fine without me. She’s Lena fucking Luthor’s daughter. I’m sorry. I just can’t. I don’t have anything for her, and she doesn’t need anything from me.”

“You don’t even want to–”

“Please. Tell her to stay away from me. You have to understand that it’s for her own good.”

“How?”

“I was an addict. Her father was a good-for-nothing dealer who died in an alley on the low end of the streets where she’s probably never imagined going. I had her and I got clean. I found a life, and I always hoped she had a better one than I could offer. She doesn’t need anything from me.”

“You don’t want to know her?” Lena balked at the idea. Her daughter was the greatest human on the planet. Everyone should want to know her.

“I’m sure she’s spectacular. Hell, I’m sure she’s probably the greatest kid on the planet, which is a miracle considering me and her father, but no. I can’t. I’ve moved on.”

“Have dinner with us, at least.”

“I’m sorry. It’s better if she forgets. Trust me.”

“You’re protecting yourself, not Rosie,” Lena stood, agitated and angry, wishing her own birth mother was alive to hear a rant. “You’re a coward, and I am glad she’s nothing like you.”

“Me too,” Amy whispered, shaking her head, her eyes glassy as she flexed her jaw. She couldn’t look at the CEO as she gathered her items and put them in her bag.

Disgusted and angry at mothers in general, Lena dug in her bag and tossed a large wad of bills on the table.

“You get one chance here. If this is what you decide, then you can’t go back on it.”

“I’ve already decided,” she said, not looking up.

With a shake of her head, Lena blinked back tears herself and walked out.

The bench at the bus stop was becoming a home. Nearly every day for the past two weeks, Rosie spent the afternoon watching the woman who gave birth to her move around the café. She watched those kids run in and love her, and for the life of her, Rosie just couldn’t understand any of it.

She also couldn’t understand what her mother was doing leaving the café. And most assuredly, she could not begin to comprehend the flood of emotions on the CEO’s face as their eyes locked across the street.

Both simple stared at each other, unsure of what to do or what could even matter. They knew they couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, and yet they both desperately hoped for that with their entire beings. Lena immediately tried to compose herself, wiping her cheek and setting her jaw before walking across the street, barely giving a glance in either direction.

“Going with Aunt Alex to the DEO to work on the movie,” Lena repeated as she sat down beside her daughter on the bench. “That was what you said this morning.”

“I was there for a minute, so I didn’t technically lie,” Rosie offered before earning an exasperated look from her mother. “I’m sorry.”

Fiddling with her fingers, Rosie sighed heavily, afraid to look up at the coffee shop again, afraid to look at her mom, afraid to really move, if she was being honest. Instead, she just sat there and knit her hands together.

“I told Kara that something was going on with you. I’m guessing this isn’t your first visit?”

Guilty, Rosie shook her head. She flexed her jaw, and the wavy kind of curls fell in her face before she gathered them in an antsy hand and pushed them around atop her head, creating a bigger mess. It was Kara’s quirk that she’d picked up somewhere along the past sixteen years. It broke Lena’s heart slightly.

“I don’t think I’ve handled it very well,” Lena finally sighed, fiddling with the ring on her finger as she did when she was anxious. “I’m sorry for that. You’re hiding things to protect me, and that should never be something you feel you have to do.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t know how.”

“As hard as it is, just you… yous ay the words, honey. I won’t ever hate you or be hurt.”

“I thought this would be easier,” Rosie ran her hands over her face and leaned forward, huddling into herself slightly.

Lena put her hand on her daughter’s back and rubbed there until she leaned back and rested against her shoulder.

“It’s not fair. It feels like everything is different now, and I can’t get it back to how it was.”

“Nothing has changed,” Lena promised, kissing her forehead and resting her cheek against her daughter’s messy hair. “We’re still a family. You’re a Danvers, just like me. You’ve always been your own person, and not one thing that has happened changed your character, and it certainly hasn’t changed our family.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t want to even talk to me. I didn’t know what to ask. I have… she has… a son and a daughter.”

“As hard as it is, you have to respect her wishes. I can’t understand not wanting to know you,” the mother smiled. “But I can certainly understand leaving the past there. I was a different person when I met Kara. I was different when my father was around and going crazy. We grow and change, and sometimes people only survive by completely shutting it out.”

“Yeah.”

“No more lying, okay?”

“Did you tell Mom you were here?” Rosie challenged, peaking her eyebrow like her mother, which was annoying and endearing all at once to Lena.

“Tomorrow. No more lying tomorrow.” Her daughter shook her head and settled back on her mother’s shoulder. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too.”

“Did you eat?”

“Not yet. I really do have to go see Aunt Alex.”

“I’ll drop you off on the way. Let me call Cal to get us.”

“Could we stop for Thai?”

“We can grab you and Alex and J’onn some, but I have a date tonight.”

“Do I know her?” Rosie joked, earning a laugh and roll of her mother’s eyes. “It’s a school night. I need you home by ten.”

“This afternoon might not be the time to press your luck.”

“But I’m so cute and charming.”

“God you’re just like your mother.”

From the café, Amy watched the most powerful woman on the planet kiss her daughter’s temple and laugh at something she must have said, each taking a kind of comfort in the embrace, and for the briefest of moments, she reconsidered before shaking her head and deciding to leave it be in the past, as much as it hurt all over again.

“Are you nervous?” Kara asked, lulling her head to the side as she looked at her wife.

“Actually, I’m not,” Lena smiled, and it was the truth. She squeezed her wife’s hand and lifted it to kiss the back of it. “She worked hard on it, and I think my nerves were just me being afraid and wanting to protect her. But man, our kid is so smart and strong and good.”

“She really is. But I did overhear her talking to Maddie about a boy at school.”

“I trust her, but perhaps another sex talk.”

“It’s your turn this time.”

“But you do so well, honey,” Lena promised, watching her wife wane. “I’d just muck it up.”

“It’s your turn,” Kara disagreed.

“Fine.”

The car wove along the busy streets back toward their home that they’d been dismissed from by their daughter to set up for the first screening of her only movie. An impromptu date was always welcomed though.

“Do you want to fog up the windows a bit?” Kara asked, a small grin dripping from her lips. She wiggled her eyebrows to add to it, earning a laugh.

“Hmm,” Lena debated, looking out the windows to estimate how long until home. “You’ve got about seven minutes, Supergirl. Make it worth my while?”

Kara didn’t even respond, just kissed her wife quickly.

“Are you nervous?” Connor asked as his cousin paced around the kitchen, looking for nothing in particular. Rosie’s cousin snagged a carrot from the platter and crunched it. “You look nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not,” she snapped before leaning against the counter. “I lied to them again.”

“How am I the one who gets grounded more than you? I wish I had two moms instead of Superman and the best reporter of all time.”

“Second best,” the younger cousin retorted with a smirk.

“We’re not having this debate again.”

Rosie crossed her arms and debated what to say, but there wasn’t much point in sugarcoating anything with Connor. He understood what it felt like to live up to unfathomable love and self-imposed expectations. Both of their parents, both sets of world-saving philanthropists, they never expected anything other than joy and happiness from their kids, and yet both Connor and Rosie held themselves to high, invisible standards.

“How do you feel, after it all?” he asked, eyeing his cousin.

There was a familial soft spot for her, even though she was younger. He remembered when they got in trouble together for the first time, when he took her flying, and her their mothers about lost their collective minds. She was the only person he could commiserate with to some degree, and one of the few people who he could be Superboy around.

But the past few months, he saw her change slightly, grow nervous, grow upset about the entire situation. Everyone around him had different parents or were adopted, and he remembered how lucky he was to have his.

“I always knew it was an option that she might not want to know me, but I never expected it. I think I understand though. I feel bad for hurting my moms though.”

“I don’t think you could hurt them,” he promised, crunching on more snacks.

“I did,” she sighed. “Not because of asking questions. I think I just– I got really confused.”

“Happens to the best of us. Shall we go watch?”

“If we must.”

The living room was completely converted to a theater, and it was spectacular. Naturally, the daughter of Lena Luthor had a knack for the dramatic. But still, Lena smiled and took her seat beside her wife while he daughter and some friends camped on the floor.

Aunts, uncles, friends and family all crowded together, ready for the documentary.

“I’m so excited,” Kara buzzed, putting her arm around her wife’s shoulders as she leaned against her.

“Please tell me you made my interview look better than it was,” Lena ribbed her daughter.

“Okay, okay, everyone get ready,” Rosie ignored her mother and pressed play. “Here we go.”

The first images were pictures from their life together, flipping through the photo album that Kara so diligently kept. Rosie explained the story, showed the newspaper clipping about the Subway Baby and how she got her name, earning a chuckle from the audience.

The interviews started, and Lena smiled as her wife talked about their first meeting, and then about their life together. She grinned as there was them going through the shoebox of their memories. She sighed contentedly when she saw footage she didn’t know her daughter had of her wife and her, still very much in love. Sometimes she forgot just how much they were in love, and then she was confronted with it.

When her interview started to show, she hid in her wife’s shoulder, who just squeezed her and chuckled at the image and mumbled words. Despite the attitude that Lena Luthor always carried, there was so much Danvers appearing on screen that it was endearing.

Kara blushed at the things her wife remembered and said. It was impossible not to enjoy it too much. Lena was always kind and doting, but hearing her talk, one might realize just how romantic she was.

The movie was an ode to family, formed and tested and loyal.

“This is spectacular,” Lena whispered, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s neck as she leaned forward and found her on the floor, kissing her cheek. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

It was only about a half hour long, but as the end grew nearer, Rosie grew a little more uncomfortable. She heard her mother shift slightly behind her, the hero realizing the café appearing meant something. It took Lena a second to realize what was happening.

But she couldn’t stop watching, and as Amy’s face appeared, she steadied herself.

Everyone shifted forward slightly, eager to watch the interview that no one knew happened. Rosie refused to turn around as the woman who bore her shared a single picture of her father, and told her about her life. Instead, she just stared and felt relieved to be done with it all.

The movie concluded with the fact that she didn’t have a relationship with the woman who gave her away. It concluded with home videos of their family and plans for the future. It concluded with everyone answering the final questions Rosie asked in every interview: What do you hope for in the future?

To their credit, most people actually thought about it, considering some answers. Some answered quickly, easily, putting forth the first idea in their head.

“That your Mom will let us get another dog,” Kara said in her interview.

“To go to the same college my dad went to,” Connor smiled.

“To finish healing,” Amy decided, after thinking about it for a moment.

“That things stay kind of the same,” Lena whispered before looking at the camera. “I have everything I could ever want in this exact moment. I don’t need anything else.”

Chapter Text

The depths of winter were felt throughout the city as the nor’easter settled on the lake and churned itself raw through the streets. It was a nasty kind of storm, the kind that has the bitter, violent cold and biting winds that numbed all exposed skin and made it hard to see. Roads turned to nothing but snow and mountains of plowed sludge, while long icicles hung from all available ledges. The temperature refused to get even remotely close to freezing, with negatives being a running trend on the weather reports. All at once, the city disappeared in a constant swirl of fat, frozen flakes.

By the second night of the storm, almost two feet blanketed the town, effectively turning it into an impassable, frosted hell of no school and limited public services, while hours were cut to just about nothing at most stores and offices. It effectively closed an entire population.

Naturally, that didn’t apply to the CEO of the international, multi-billion dollar company at the heart of the skyline. High in the penthouse on the edge of the city near the lake, she took conference calls and spent the day sending many, many emails.

It wasn’t until the only other working member of National City stopped by that Lena let herself call it a day, though she did grumble the entire time she cleaned up her kitchen table, about the frustration of not being able to do anything, much to Supergirl’s amusement.

While the snow swirled and the night fell the two settled into a normal night, or at least a night that was becoming more normal.

Lena would never admit or never allow herself to be attached to Kara Danvers. She couldn’t let herself be set up like that. And yet, as Supergirl appeared with supplies, her heart skipped a little beat, and she felt inexplicably happy despite the foul mood the weather brought about. It was damn near impossible to not be insanely smitten with Supergirl, and it was becoming a problem.

But she had rules.

Those rules meant nothing when she was naked and tingling though.

“You smell so good. All the time,” Kara murmured as she dug her nose in Lena’s hair, inhaling a big breath and pulling her impossibly closer.

Their legs touched and tangled under the soft sheets in Lena’s bed. She let the hero kiss her shoulder and back before wrapping her arms around her again. It felt nice, once she could learn to think straight again, to feel Kara holding her, and Lena smiled into her pillow at the observation.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Maybe not, but you’re perfect,” she continued slipping her hands lower. “I can sometimes catch a hint of you in the wind, if I’m in the right spot in the city. I love it.”

“It’s just sex, Kara. You know this.”

“So I can’t compliment you?”

“Not so often,” Lena decided, earning a chuckle that she felt against her back.

Exhausted from her day of being bored and the work out her own personal super trainer gave her, Lena stretched and closed her eyes. The storm still coughed out bits of snow and ice, but in her bedroom, the candles burned low and she had a naked girl who ran slightly warm, keeping her toasty under the sheets.

For just a few more minutes, Kara allowed herself to feel comfortable and wanted and like it was something worth doing. She was stuck, no matter how she sliced it, madly in love with Lena and because of that, willing to accept whatever the Luthor gave.

She waited until she felt Lena’s breathing level out somewhat before she went to move, fully aware of the most important rule that kept them from dating– if she didn’t spend the night, it wasn’t serious. As much as Kara wanted to ignore it, she knew that it would cause more damage to just ignore Lena, no matter how crazy she found it to actually be. But she wouldn’t stay until Lena told her to stay, and that wasn’t going to happen.

“Where are you going?” Lena mumbled, rolling over and tugging the other body in bed closer to her own.

“Home. It’s late and snowing.”

“Stay.”

Lena smiled as she made the request and held a little tighter to the beautiful woman in her bed. A few candles burned down to nothing, extinguishing themselves.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s against your rules,” Kara reminded her.

“Stay,” Lena muttered, digging deeper into her pillow of Kara’s neck and shoulder. “Just one night.”

“Okay. One night.”

Kara wrapped her arms around Lena a big tighter, and kissed her temple and forehead and cheek, all languid and slow and happy and tired. In a second, Lena was drifting off, and in a minute, she followed.

There were few things better than a snow day. Kara never really knew snow, but became infinitely infatuated with it when she made her way to Earth. It never really stopped being something she enjoyed, no matter how many times she encountered it. The frost made her body almost feel temperature, and the chill was enough to really make Kara enjoy cuddling without overheating her partner.

Outside, the world was pure white and crisp, the trees were covered and kids were having fun in parks with sleds. It was perfect and it was quiet, which was a rarity in the city.

But waking up with Lena Luthor on a snow day was perhaps an even better feeling. There was no thaw in sight, but they didn’t care. Not one bit.

Warm and held tightly between two strong arms. Lena shifted as she woke, turning slightly and needing a moment to remember why she wasn’t alone in bed. Lips moved to her shoulder and a grumble came from the bed as she stilled against its complaint.

Kara burrowed deeper into the pillows, exhausted and needing a few more hours as Lena turned over.

“Back to sleep,” Kara murmured, shifting toward Lena again, effectively making the giant, king-sized bed feel like nothing more than a twin.

Lena thought about the night before, unsure of how it all happened, but not upset that she had a space heater in her bed. Messy blonde hair cascaded over Kara’s neck until Lena pushed it away and smiled, closing her eyes again and sighing into her pillow’s chest.

“You stayed.”

“You made me.”

Lena smiled before allowing herself a few more hours of just one night.

The thing about the first night, was that it wasn’t just one night.

Kara wasn’t completely to blame, and Lena knew it. When she woke up to warm arms and a sleepy, pretty girl in her bed, who refused to let her get out of the cozy blankets, she knew she was a goner. What was once a no-strings-attached style arrangement, quickly turned into being impossible to sleep alone.

It happened gradually, and it happened on Lena’s schedule. Kara knew who she was in love with, and she knew that it was sometimes hard for the Luthor to ask for things, or to make decisions with her heart. And more importantly, Kara knew that she had to prove to the CEO that she wasn’t going to leave. Time was all she needed, and she was okay with that. She wouldn’t have loved Lena if she’d been different.

After the first night, Kara took her time coming back around, allowing Lena time to contemplate and realize they were, in fact, in a relationship. Like all things that were not strictly science or business related, the genius took much longer than the average person to come to that conclusion.

But when Lena finally realized she was dating, Kara was there and ready for it. She didn’t miss a date or chance to be on her arm, she didn’t miss a chance to invite Lena around her friends and family.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that it took over a year for Lena to fully come to terms with dating Supergirl, and asking her to move in, but it did.

Still, even after all of it, Lena couldn’t believe that she lived with Kara. They shared a condo in the penthouse of a building she owned, and they were happy. Lena allowed herself to settle in the regularity of it all. She had a routine, of sorts. Normally, her day ended after work, when she would either pick up dinner or try to make something, and then spend the evening with a beautiful girl before going to bed. Sometimes, said beautiful girl was forced to go fight aliens, but all in all, they were happy.

“Hey, love, I’m making ginger beef for dinner,” Lena called as she heard the door open over the music that softly played from the speaker on the counter.

“Smells great,” Kara called, her voice slightly off.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sipping her wine as she finished stirring and moved around the island in the center.

“Don’t be mad.”

“You say that, and then I end up mad.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Kara sighed, finally walking into the condo fully.

Immediately, Lena’s eyes drifted to the ball of mud and fur in her arms. A pair of large brown eyes stared back at her and accompanied a set of small whines. She sighed and crossed her arms as she took another sip of her wine before meeting her girlfriend’s puppy dog eyes.

“Let me explain–”

“No pets,” Lena interrupted, setting her jaw.

“But I found him stuck in ditch. No mom in sight. No tags. No microchip. He’s an orphan.”

“Don’t you do that, Kara Danvers,” she shook her head and held up her hand. “We can’t have a dog.”

“It’s just for the night.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said about you, and now I have you shedding all over the place and destroying furniture on a regular basis.”

“Hey, it’s been almost a month since I broke something here,” Kara tried to defend herself, following as Lena moved back toward the stove, dismissing the entire talk before it really got started.

“They eat everything, they need attention and care and affection, and neither you nor myself have time in our schedule to have a dog around.”

“It’s just for the night,” Kara whined. “Look at him, Lena. He’s had a rough day and I don’t want to drop him off at a shelter without a bath and dinner.” Lena ignored her, setting her shoulders already. “Just look at him. Please, Lena,” she started in a fake dog voice. “I’ll be really good.”

Despite herself, Lena allowed herself a look. She wasn’t completely heartless, no matter what many blogs and articles said. She melted under those eyes and Kara’s begging. The moment she walked through the door, the battle was over, and Lena hated it.

“One night. But you have to go get him clean. And if he–” Kara jumped forward and kissed her girlfriend through her smile and the words. “Eats any of my shoes, I swear, he won’t be the only one leaving in the morning.”

“He’ll be perfect,” she promised, kissing her again despite the ridiculous threat. “I love you. Thank you.”

Before Lena could even argue, Kara was making her way to the bathroom, chattering happily to the dog who just continued to whine.

By the time dinner was ready to be served, a brand new animal emerged from down the hall. Gone was the mud and the dirt, and in its place, a tan, somewhat fluffy coat and long floppy tongue waving as he sniffed and pranced in. The first thing she noticed was his ears and how big they were, the second was the paws, which seemed equally as disproportional, as if he had a lot of growing to fit into them.

“Cleans up rather nice, doesn’t he?” Kara boasted, trailing behind and scooping up the pup before he could get too far away.

“What kind is he?”

“I’m not sure. German Shepherd and something else maybe?” she shrugged and rubbed his chest before kissing him. “Say hi.”

“I’m not a dog person.”

“You’ve never had one.”

“They smell and slobber,” Lena reminded her, earning an exasperated look. She looked back at the dog and then once more at Kara before reluctantly holding out her hand.

A little black nose sniffed at her hand before licking it, which was an odd sensation, to be sure, but Lena could see the attraction. She rubbed an ear and earned a floppy look from the puppy and the girlfriend.

“He likes you.”

“One night.”

With a roll of her eyes, Kara agreed and took another kiss before putting the puppy down and agreeing to sit to dinner.

Not much changed in the routine, Lena realized. She found herself drinking another glass of wine and staring at the puppy who growled and flopped onto the ground when Kara flew out to buy some food and supplies for the night. Locked in a staring match, both cocked their heads, looking at the other curiously.

“Don’t get any ideas about staying. I am not a fan of attachment.”

A tiny bark or growlish murmur erupted as he looked back at her and wagged his tail.

But soon enough the apartment was outfitted with puppy pads and little bowls of food and water, and a handful of toys that he seemed to like well enough. Lena even let herself play with him a little bit before settling on the couch with her girlfriend.

It took a little work, but a few minutes into whatever they were watching on television, little paws followed, hoping to find room for himself on the couch. Tensing, Kara waited to get in trouble, but much to her surprise, Lena let the puppy curl up in a ball under her legs and didn’t say anything, just ran her hands over his ears as he drifted off to sleep.

An hour later, and Kara ralized Lena was asleep as well. On most nights, she’d gently lift her and carry her to bed, but she was so comfortable, and the puppy was asleep. She decided to let them be, but not before documenting in case Lena ever fought her on getting a puppy of their own one day.

With a smile, Kara kissed her girlfriend’s cheek and went to bed

“Kara!”

Startled and breathless, completely disoriented, Kara sat up in the empty bed, and forgetting herself from the night before, looked to find Lena, and couldn’t. Heart in her ears, she raced down the hall, skidding into a wall and knocking things from a counter as she ricocheted toward the scream.

“One night is over!”

“What happened? What’s going on?” Kara asked, blinking and trying to orient herself in the situation.

“This mongrel ate my bag!” Lena yelled, holding up a destroyed leather purse.

Hair a mess, old shirt the only thing she was wearing, and an excited puppy nipping at the leager straps beside her, it was hard to take it all seriously, and within a few seconds, once her brain caught up with her from the bedroom, Kara began to laugh.

“Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny,” her girlfriend pouted. “Kara! I’m serious. This is a $600 Fred Segal purse! I waited two months for this to come in.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kara chuckled. “It’s just. I thought there was an emergency, and this is what I walk into.”

“It’s not funny!”

The puppy rolled over on the ground and huffed, tired of the game and undeterred by the yelling.

“It’s a little funny. You do own three of those exact purses.”

“They’re different and you know this.”

“Still. He’s just a baby. He didn’t know.”

“One night, and now he goes.”

Before Kara could argue, Lena shoved her ruined bag into her girlfriend’s chest and stalked off down the hall toward the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Come on there, Freddie,” Kara cooed, lifting the puppy. “We’ll work on a few ground rules. I think you’re wearing her down though.”

Somehow, there was a gap between the moment Lena found a puppy chewing on her favorite new leather purse, and the moment she was sitting on a conference call to Sydney with said puppy, asleep in her lap. Lena wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, except she knew exactly how, and it was Kara’s damn fault.

But the puppy was there the next night, after the first. And when Lena answered Kara’s phone, she saw the background that was her, asleep with this puppy.

Lena wasn’t dumb. She knew that being in love with her was a full time job. She knew that it wasn’t particularly fun sometimes, and that Kara put up with a lot of things, like dealing with the entire Luthor gang and the fallout associated with them, like dealing with Lena’s inability to trust a good thing.

She could give Kara a puppy.

No one could get Lena to admit how attached she instantly came to the orphan puppy, but everyone knew it. Jess saw it when Lena would request calls be put off in favor of walking the puppy down to the park. Kara saw it when Freddie came home with a new collar and had not just one, but two fluffy beds– one at home, and the other in Lena’s office.

Just as with Kara when she allowed her to stay the night, Lena fell instantly and begrudgingly for the dog. Freddie went to work every day, he provided an excellent reason to go for a walk and play in the park, and more importantly, he loved when his two moms would have lunch and slip him treats while the other wasn’t looking.

Chapter Text

Then

The air was thin and crisp in the mountains, but the snow on the ground was worth the trek to the cabin for the holiday. Between the tall, sentinel like trees that had needle-covered branches beneath an inch of heavy, wet snow, the private getaway practically glowed in the late November evening. Fresh tire tracks cut through the undisturbed land and led up a long, long driveway from the closet road to the wood and stone structure, while a few cars remained asleep outside.

Tall windows that reached the entire length of the chalet were golden with the life inside. The tall, thick chimneys spouted smoke in a few different corners while the inhabitants settled into the winter vacation.

Inside, the family settled and spent time together. Two little boys entertained themselves with their uncles, building elaborate sets of legos and train tracks. Their moms lounged on the couch and read, their legs tossed over each other, comfortable and cozy while the evening grew darker outside.

Tentatively, Kara Danvers walked with her daughter in her arms toward the kitchen where a plethora of smells and noises could be witnessed. Just on the other side of the great room, away from the large fireplace that roared near a television that quietly played some games that a few people occasionally paid attention to, the kitchen was giant and homey and being absolutely abused.

“Hey, smells good in here,” Kara offered as her wife huffed and fought with something she was chopping. “Do you want some help?”

“I am going to cook dinner. I can do that,” Lena reminded her. “I’m a mother now. Mothers do this kind of thing.”

“Moms get help sometimes.”

Quickly, Lena turned around and stirred something on the stove as Kara adjusted the growing toddler in her arms. The CEO put a lot of pressure on herself to create a Thanksgiving tradition. She had a daughter now, and she grew up without stability and looking forward to something, and so she bought a large, large, large cabin in the mountains, with enough space to house everyone comfortably. And she had the place stocked before they got there. She was going to cook and provide for them.

“I can handle this. I have a degree in Biomechanical Engineering and Computer Languages. I have a MENSA membership. I’ve eaten at the chef’s tables in multiple Michelin star winning restaurants. I am fully capable of making a turkey.”

“You are,” Kara nodded and kissed her busy wife’s temple while she worked before she pushed aside some flyaways. “It’s going to be great.”

“I’ve spent the past month research all of the right ways to do this. I am set.”

“But I have another set of hands,” Supergirl tried again. “Super hands, some might argue.”

“Those hands are full of our kid.”

“Oh, this thing?” she looked down and was met with pretty brown eyes and a gurgle of a slobbery smile. “I can just chuck this wherever.”

Lena cracked a smile despite the frantic nature that remained just below the surface. She let herself look at her daughter who waved her hands excitedly when she noticed her mother giving her attention.

“She’s so cute. It should be a crime.”

“Well, to be fair, we both have felons in our family. It’s genetic at this point.”

Lena rolled her eyes and wiped her hands. Kara moved to hand over the toddler, knowing full well how to get her wife to listen.

“She’s too cute to be a felon,” Lena cooed, kissing her daughter.

“Why don’t you give her a snack and I will be your hands. Just tell me what to do.”

“People are going to figure out how much you like being bossed around if you talk like that.”

Kara blushed and shook her head as she tied an apron around her waist. She let her wife have it though, because it wasn’t a lie.

“I am yours to command, Chef.”

With a baby on her hip, Lena grabbed a few crackers and took a seat at the counter while she gave directions to her sous. And she fed the baby soft little crackers until she was usurped by her grandmother.

The house was filled with people, with jokes, with laughter and wine and smells of the season, and Lena didn’t know how to have it, but she knew she would never let it go.

“This looks amazing,” Alex offered as she surveyed the table as Lena put the finishing touches on it. “It’s almost like you’ve done this before.”

“I’ve hosted a few dinners in my time.”

“But this looks…” the agent nodded and surveyed the care that went into it all.

The plates were sturdy and old, clearly an heirloom from a much, much earlier time. The glasses and goblets were crystal and gleaming, shining and sparkling in the candle light. It was a perfect place, the long, heavy wooden table in the chalet.

At first, Alex wanted to mock the largess of the cabin. She wanted to mock the Lena Luthor who could not live with just the bare minimum and instead had to take everything about six steps too far. The twenty-seater table was just the icing on the cake.

But seeing it all done up, all prepared for the entire extended family, with the snow outside and the light of the fires flashing across the high roof and reflected in the windows that went to the ceiling– she realized she’d been wrong and that it was perfect. No better place could have existed. Everyone had their own rooms, everyone had access to the heated pool and hot tubs and the stash of board games and giant televisions. And despite the availability of the latest technologies and comforts, everyone congregated in the giant living room or close enough, laying about and spending time together. That was what Lena Danvers accomplished because she put her mind toward perfection.

“Smells good too,” Alex tried, sipping her wine. “You left Kara to watch it though?”

“She just has to stir a few pots and make sure the turkey doesn’t dry out. I’m hopeful for her.”

“You give her too much credit.”

“There’s no possible way she coul–”

Before the sentence was finished, the smell of something burning reached their noses. Lena paused, as if stricken paralyzed before meeting Alex’s amused glance. She just sipped her beer and adjusted a napkin.

“Kara! What did you do!” Lena yelped as she sprinted around the table and back toward the kitchen.

The telltale scraping of plates echoed through the room, providing a nice rhythm to the laughter and raising of voices that came when a herd of people found time to eat together at one time. At one end, a dog eagerly pretended to be disinterested, his head dramatically flopped on the floor while his ears were perked up as high as ever, his eyes on constant patrol for anything dropped.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” Kara murmured, pushing food around her plate. “I didn’t know that it was already on.”

“We have more than enough food,” Lena shrugged. “So what if you burned the turkey. The centerpiece of the entire meal. The thing I got up at four in the morning to put in and dress. The same one I’d personally been brining for three days.”

“I think you’re still a little mad.”

“Mommy is never going to hear the end of this,” Lena cooed to her daughter who sat on her lap and played in mashed potatoes. She earned a smile and the smashing of a plastic spork-like instrument against the table.

Kara sighed but remained happy at the sight. Something about Lena in a big sweater, with her hair up and her neck on display, the golden locket around it. She hovered near their baby’s ear, telling her something before earning a spoonful of something from Rosie. Lena made an exaggerated move of eating it, thanking her kindly.

Yes, the former superhero had turned up the oven because she didn’t pay attention. Yes, she’d effectively ruined Thanksgiving in a single movement. Yes, Lena was upset and would never let her forget it. But, it was Kara’s brilliant idea to heat up the frozen pizzas as a substitute.

A slight chiming of glass a few chairs down pulled Kara away from the scene she frequently found herself staring at for hours– her wife and her daughter. She earned a small smiled from Lena and returned it with a wink.

“As the oldest by a few thousand years, I find it my duty to take the time to thank the hostess for the amazing dinner and celebration,” J’onn said, standing from his seat. He raised his glass toward the woman at the end of the table. “Lena, I cannot remember a better Thanksgiving in all of my time.”

A chorus of agreement rang out as everyone else lifted their glasses and bottles as well, though the display made Lena blush. She sipped her wine and tried to hide from it.

“I would like to be the first to say what I am thankful for,” the martian decided as he surveyed the places and the half-empty platters and near empty plates. “And that is family. I am grateful that the idea that family does not ever die, but simply evolves, and can be applied to anyone.”

“To family!” the chorus rang out with a few giggles before he took his seat.

“I’m thankful for my daughters,” Eliza smiled at Alex and Kara, “And for my grandkids who have given me a new reason to try to stay young.”

“To kids!”

“I’m thankful for my life,” Kara nodded. “I’m thankful for every single second of it.”

“To life!”

The eyes turned to Lena, the next in line and the obvious choice.

“I am thankful for my daughter and my wife,” she smiled. “Even though she burned a turkey, I’m just very grateful to be here with my best friend.”

“To turkey!”

The laughter eclipsed the table for a few minutes as the arguments and chatter erupted. Amidst it all, Lena smiled and took her sip before leaning over and kissing her wife. She wanted to do it, she had to do it, and so she did. It was quick, but it was theirs.

“I’m thankful you retired,” Lena whispered, rubbing her thumb along Kara’s lips to mitigate some of the lipstick.

“Me too,” Kara nodded. “And I’m excited for so many more traditions that include more pizza.”

“Never again,” she rolled her eyes.

“We’ll see.”

Now

The house on the corner was properly a home. It had been for almost twenty years. Tall and slender, with old charm, it was perfect, with it’s big black door and autumn wreath that hung there. On the small stoop, a welcome mat greeted anyone who made it to the door. Because of the holiday, the yard was a little less manicured than normal, but no one minded the golden and orange and red leaves that created a carpet in the front yard.

Inside, it was warmer than the chill of the season. Though the house was emptier by a third, it still had its feeling of home attached to it. Coats hung on the hook and shoes were kicked slightly haphazardly beneath them, while a sloppy pile of mail waited to be sorted under two sets of keys. On the landing of the stairs, the dog sprawled out, asleep and twitching slightly as he chased things in his dreams, his tail slipping between the railing.

In the dining room, Thanksgiving decorations appeared, dating back to the genesis of the family, with little paper turkey hands and brown, orange, and yellow construction paper chains. The first day of November, and Kara found her wife digging out an old container with all of the art projects they’d done for the season. It naturally accompanied by a teary-eyed woman putting things up on the wall. And it naturally meant they were taking a trip across the country the following weekend to see their daughter at school.

But the stage was set for the holiday. And on the couch, Kara soaked in the pre-holiday calm that presided over the house. Soon enough, Lena would be planning her menu and dragging her grocery shopping for hours to get the perfect ingredients. Soon enough, the house would be full of visitors and she wouldn’t get a moment of quiet. Soon enough, she’d have to hear about how she ruined their first Thanksgiving together at the cabin. Soon enough, she’d have to help set up said cabin for the visitors.

So Kara stretched out on the couch. She propped her legs up on the end, crossed them, tucked an arm behind her head and read through her book as the evening decided to arrive. The house was quiet. Too quiet in her own opinion. But the kid was in college and the wife was at work, and Kara found herself between research for her next book.

It was almost seven by the time Kara heard the noises of her wife coming home. The car door shut, the gate creaked, the heels tapped softly against the leaf-covered sidewalk, keys twinkled as they fit in the door. The entire song was Kara’s favorite. The dogs tail thumped against the railing as he stood and shook, prancing toward the one returning.

A few seconds after the door opened, keys joined Kara’s on the table by the door. Heels were kicked off with hollow taps against the wall and Lena cooed at the dog.

She didn’t say anything when she saw her wife stretched so long on the couch. Kara didn’t look up from her book, though she certainly wasn’t reading anything but the same word over and over and over again.

Lena moved toward the couch, only she didn’t stop at all. She took the book and tossed it on the table while Kara watched her slide into her space. Only when Lena was settled between Kara and the couch, with her lips against Kara’s neck, did she sigh happily and relax. The tension left her body in one breath.

“Hey,” Kara smiled, kissing her wife’s forehead. She hugged her closer and felt a leg slip between her own.

“I’m so tired. Don’t make me go back to work ever again.”

“If I had my way, we’d never move again.”

“You usually always get your way,” Lena snorted, digging deeper into Supergirl’s shoulder and neck, hugging her ribs.

“Tough day?”

“No, just long. I was all over the place. Too many meetings and not enough actually done. I hate this stretch before the holidays.”

Neither moved except to get more comfortable. Still in her clothes from work, Lena tugged her skirt up a little to let her stretch her leg to wrap around Kara’s. While Kara ran her hand up and down her wife’s back before squeezing her neck gently and earning almost a purr and a kiss on her jaw.

“I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that,” Lena growled.

She held Kara’s chest and felt the chuckle that rumbled about her lungs. She patted there and pushed to sit up but failed, becoming more pliant and weak under generous massaging.

“I was going to make chicken for dinner, but I can go grab us something, if you’d like.”

“As soon as I wake up, I’m going to take a shower and I’d settle for one of your grilled cheeses.”

“I can do that. But don’t sleep. You’ll be up at four.”

“But I’m so cozy,” the CEO whined.

“I know what will–”

The front door opened again, and another set of keys joined the table. Kara knew instantly who was walking through the door. Just like the dog who hopped up and bolted towards the newest member of the family, she smiled when she tilted her head to see her daughter turn the corner.

All of nineteen and perfect, clad in an MIT sweatshirt and her glasses, she was all Lena, which was fantastic.

“Hey guys,” she waved shyly.

“Rosie! What in– Why– How– When?” Lena sputtered, sitting up slightly.

“I didn’t interrupt did I?”

“You saved your mother from falling asleep,” Kara explained. She held her other arm open until Rosie smiled and practically skipped over, hugging them both as she piled atop the couch.

“You weren’t do in until Tuesday,” Lena shook her head, touching Rosie’s cheek to make sure she was real.

“I finished my tests, and I just have a paper due, so I figured I’d spend my absences and come home a few days early. I’m only missing one programming and one Spanish class,” she promised when she earned a look.

“You’re not eating enough. You’re training too hard,’ Lena shook her head.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty crushed right now,” Kara grunted.

It didn’t matter, Rosie hugged them both and earned a kiss on each temple from her moms.

“I missed you guys.”

“I’m so happy you’re home,” Lena beamed. “This is the best surprise.”

“You hungry, kid?” Kara asked.

“Starving.”

“Frank’s?”

“Can we?”

She got just as excited as when she was a kid and her moms would take her to her favorite diner just a few blocks over from the house. Anxiously, Rosie and Kara looked at Lena, the decision-maker of the group, and waited for the inevitable agreement.

Somewhere between hugging her daughter’s arm as they walked down the sidewalk and hanging on her every word as they talked about everything MIT had to offer, Kara just watched her family at their booth in the diner, and she smiled into her plate of fries.

The cabin had hosted its fair share of family get togethers. There’d been Thanksgivings and Christmases and New Year’s and summer vacations. There’d been weekend escapes for skiing and there’d been week long reprieves for no reason at all. But it had been a few years since the magnitude of gathering accumulated there, and Lena was in her heyday.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the others? I can finish up,” Lena asked as her daughter rolled up her sleeves a little higher and went back to work on the mountain of potatoes she was peeling.

Throughout the house, music could be heard, and just above that, sports in the den, and beneath that, the herd of humans throughout the place playing games and existing together.

“Potatoes are my job,” Rosie shrugged. “And if I go, Mom will come in and help.”

“I was mad for awhile, but I think I’ve grown.”

“Did you remember the frozen pizza?” Kara asked, breezing through the kitchen as she snagged a veggie her wife was cutting.

“You’re not allowed in here,” Lena responded with a bump of her hips.

Rosie watched her parents interactions and sighed at the love they had. When Lena pushed at the literal alien made of steel, and she pretended to fly back, wounded and all. When Kara bounced back and kissed her wife’s cheek after hugging her from behind. They were simple and happy despite all the odds.

But Kara took the hint and escaped with her nephews and sister outside, leaving the expert hands in the kitchen.

“So, Mom, this summer…” Rosie ventured, keeping her head down as she continued her task.

“I was thinking Greece. But your mother wants to go to Madagascar.”

“That sounds great, but I was hoping to actually start interning. With you. At LCorp.”

“But we always go on vacation,” Lena shook her head, slightly confused. “We can go anywhere.”

“I don’t know why you think I’m joking when I say I want to work at LCorp. But if you don’t want me to, just tell me.”

“What? Honey, no of course I’d love that.”

“Then why do you always dismiss it when I say that I’m ready to learn.”

“Because it’s a lot,” Lena sighed. “And I don’t know if I want you to live the life I did.”

“What? You.. I thought you loved it,” Rosie furrowed, stilling her movements so no more skins piled up in the sink.

“I do, I just… if it hadn’t been for your mom, I don’t know what would have happened. And I don’t want you to jump in too quickly to a career.”

Lena stopped chopping and watched her daughter dive through the information set before her. They’d talked about the options, but Rosie was right, and Lena had put it off because she was afraid of wanting it too much.

“I’m a Danvers. I know family comes first.”

Her mother nodded thoughtfully. Unfortunately, Rosie was stubborn like Kara, though her wife would say that was flipped.

“You know that you’re going to start in the mailroom, right?” Lena ventured.

“Yeah,” Rosie smiled.

“And you’ll work security and custodial, and assistant– and that is the first few years of your internship. Not weeks, but years before you even are at a computer doing programming or working on projects or managing a department.”

“I’ll be the best at all of them,” her daughter promised, vibrating with excitement.

Quickly, as if she were part Super, Rosie was at her mother’s side, hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek, squeezing with her whole might.

“And at anytime, you are welcome to say it’s not for you. I won’t be the one who forced you into LCorp.”

“Never,” she giggled.

“And I want to go to Greece. I’ve already had Sam schedule my vacation for the beginning of August.”

“I’m kind of with Mom though. Madagascar could be fun.”

“Wow,” Lena nodded and smiled despite herself. “You get what you want and double cross me. You’ll be a perfect CEO.”

“If you two are going to fight, I’ll pick somewhere different,” Rosie shrugged. “Like Grandma’s.”

Lena let out a groan and pretended to flop down on the counter as she shook her head. She loved Eliza, but she wanted to spend her vacation on a beach, complaining about the sun and watching her wife walk around in a bikini before getting too drunk and embarrassing her daughter in a foreign city.

“What about Singapore? Or Switzerland.”

“I was just in Singapore, and I’ll be in Switzerland next fall.”

“Croatia.”

The CEO mulled it over and debated before nodding.

“Deal. Now tell me how your season is looking.”

Somewhere between talking about the volleyball training and her classes for the following semester, Lena and her daughter put together the entire meal, pies and pizza and a not burnt turkey included.

The table was set and the group was called, and the chefs were applauded. Kara held up her glass and thanked her wife and daughter before kissing Lena’s temple when she sat down. The prayer of sorts was simply them all breaking bread and being exceptionally blessed in that moment.

Inevitably, the stand-in patriarch of the group cleared his throat and raised his glass to begin to tell everyone how thankful he was for another year and for his family. The torch was passed around the table.

“I am thankful to have the best life that a baby left on a subway could have asked for,” Rosie grinned, making her mother’s roll their eyes and the rest of the table laugh.

“I’m always last,” Lena complained, “and everyone has taken my answers. But I guess this year, I’m just thankful that my lovely wife stayed out of the kitchen.”

“One time,” Kara sighed before taking a bite of the traditional frozen pizza that now accompanied their meal.