Work Text:
Jess hadn’t had any real objections to L-Corp acquiring CatCo – she’d said it wouldn’t be all that hard to pass off to the board as an attempt to access millennial buyers, track trends, and generate some goodwill. That said, she’d strongly suggested Lena do some research if she wanted it to seem like a business-based decision, and not a “I have a crush on Kara Danvers so big that it’s probably the Bat-Signal that Supergirl uses to find me”-based decision (Jess’s words, not hers).
Which brings Lena to this, to sitting on her too-stiff, too-modern couch and scrolling through CatCo’s main page well after the time she ought to have gone to bed if she wants to be anywhere near as alert as she’ll need to be for tomorrow’s conference with Tokyo. When she first sees it, she wonders if this is CatCo’s poor attempt at investigative journalism, in which case, she paid well more for the company than it’s worth. She texts Jess, who assures her that this isn’t an amateur brand of gotcha journalism to sneakily expose Supergirl, but rather, something most of the millennials do for fun these days (the get out more, jeez, Luthor, is implicit in Jess’s phrasing).
So Lena clicks on it, clicks on What Percent Supergirl Are You? even though it’s frivolous and stupid and she can’t quite figure out why she’s wasting her time on this, and why it doesn’t really feel like that time’s being wasted.
The first question is underwhelming – Can you fly? She clicks the No, obviously, button, along with 88% of the other respondents. The other 12%, she can only imagine, are smartasses or qualified airline personnel having a laugh.
Do you wear a suit? (yes) is jokingly followed up with, Is it a super suit? (no), and Lena still can’t really see how these questions are going to provide a conclusive answer. Supergirl is much more than a red-blue streak through the sky; she’s an idea, real but still mythic – a cultural symbol of justice and honour and friendship. Lena may consistently fall short on the last front, but she tries very hard at all three, and even if that isn’t enough (it never is), at least she hasn’t given up like Lex did, given in. Maybe a What Percent NOT Lex Luthor Are You (Despite What Your Family Says)? quiz would be more helpful to her. Certainly more helpful than the question, What’s your favourite emoji?, as if the fact that Lena likes the little ghost man could possibly reveal her similarities to the greatest icon of the modern age.
Still, it’s all pretty standard, until the second-last question: Do you seem to spend 70% of your time either with or thinking about Lena Luthor? Beside it, there’s a photo of Lena giving a speech, while Supergirl watches on. She’s thrown off for a moment, before she remembers that this is what the kids call a ‘trick question’. She clicks Um, not really? – it’s the most ardent objection, considering the other options are Maybe only 30%, Definitely at least 70%, and I’m protecting her with my strong Kryptonian arms right now. To her surprise, nearly half of all quiz-takers put the third option, which seems odd. She wasn’t really aware anyone thought about her. Maybe they’re thinking about her in association with Lex, or maybe they’ve got an upcoming interview for an internship at L-Corp that they’re stressed about.
She checks Yes, of course for the last question (Do you believe in truth, justice and the American way?), even though that’s really more Superman’s slogan, and Lena in fact sometimes has several strong objections to elements of the American way. But CatCo doesn’t really seem to be reaching for her stance on socio-cultural economics, and Jess would call this “overthinking things that are actually really fucking simple, L, and we just have to take them at what they seem and believe that’s what they are”. Jess is probably asleep now, though, so Lena won’t text her this particular personal triumph of under-thinking, even though Jess would probably answer.
The little loading circle spins for a moment (she should see if they can upgrade CatCo’s website’s processing speed), and then spits out: You’re only 28% Supergirl. Lena considers calling TOD on her attempts at research, now that she’s got her answer, but her compulsive need to finish everything she starts has her reading the small blurb below, even if it is just fluff.
You Got: You’re only 28% Supergirl!
You share a strong belief in justice, fairness, and sticking up for the little guy, and you’re probably pretty badass at work, but that’s about where the similarities end. You’ve got no Kryptonian powers, and no secret identity. If you want to become more like Supergirl, we suggest rescuing a cat from a tree or attending all of Lena Luthor’s events. Literally all of them.
There’s a tap at her window, and Lena whirls around, fear and reflexes kicking in, even though she’s fifty floors up – it wouldn’t be the first attempt on her life made in this very building, and it likely won’t be the last (well, unless they’re successful, in which case –). But it’s just Supergirl, hovering gently, hair waving gently about her like she’s in some ethereal product commercial, even though Lena’s done the maths, and at the speeds she flies, her hair should be literally ripped from her skull.
She slams her laptop closed, and pads out to the balcony, only aware she’s just in a t-shirt and jeans when Supergirl does something off a double take as she lands on the tiles next to her.
“Sorry, sorry, I know it’s unprofessional, I can go change,” she rushes out, already turning away.
A warm hand (god, so warm – not hot, just like the soft kind of heat that echoes from ceramic mugs, the kind that says home, and safe) closes gently around her bicep, tugging her back. “It can’t be unprofessional, seeing as you’re not at work. I’ve just never seen you look comfortable before. Besides, you think I am wearing this when I roll out of bed in the morning?”
“How would I know?”
“I can show you,” Supergirl says, and then blushes bright red at her innuendo, putting the colours on her suit to shame. “Wait, sorry, that’s not what I meant. Well, actually – hang on. I came here to say that I heard you bought CatCo.”
“I did.”
Supergirl smiles. Her thumb dusts a delicate arc over Lena’s skin; she still hasn’t let go, even though Lena’s definitely not going anywhere – as if she could, could even want to. Even without her grip of steel, Lena is anchored by that magnetic field the hero seems to have. Perhaps she should do a press release listing that as a new power of hers? It would make what Lena feels a little less embarrassing.
“The people who work there are very lovely, and have been extremely kind to me ever since I first started saving people. I am sure they are glad to have someone like you at the helm, someone who cares about the people, and not the money,” Supergirl says.
Lena almost laughs. If only Supergirl knew just how much the decision rested on people (Kara), and not profit. She doesn’t know what prompts her to say it, but suddenly, she’s blurting out, “They have a quiz on you, you know.”
“What? Surely I would have heard of that.”
Lena shakes her head. “It’s new.”
There’s a beat, and then Supergirl smiles, almost – shyly? “May I see it?”
Her arm finally released, Lena skids inside and retrieves her laptop, refreshing the page so Supergirl will think she only saw the quiz in passing, and didn’t take it like some total nerd.
Supergirl delicately accepts the laptop from her, and blurs through the questions so fast that Lena can’t keep track. Until – she slows, and wraps one arm around Lena’s waist, just so she can click, I’m protecting her with my strong Kryptonian arms right now. Lena would laugh at her literal interpretation of it all, but Supergirl is really impossibly comfortable for someone made of steel (though it’s not like she didn’t already know that, has found it impossible to un-know), and it’s kind of totally distracting.
The loading sign swirls, and then –
You Got: You’re 100% Supergirl!
Supergirl laughs. “That’s a relief. Oh, there’s a little -”
Lena reads the comment faster, and, in a slight panic, tries to jerk the laptop out of Supergirl’s hand. Which doesn’t work, because, like, she’s Supergirl.
Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Probably not, because our yellow sun gives you crazy awesome powers! You use your gift to help the people of Earth when they cannot help themselves, in any way you can – and it is your generosity and conviction that makes you a true hero, not your powers. Say hi to Superman for us! (and you should probably kiss Lena Luthor, just saying).
Lena rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. “I don’t know who writes these, it’s not like -”
“I do. It’s Margie. She’s very nice. And a fan of yours, actually.”
“Of me?” Lena squeaks, and it’s probably the least cool she’s sounded in all her adult life, which, of course that had to be in front of a superhero.
Supergirl gazes at her, eyes soft with amusement. “You have more fans than just me, Lena Luthor. And things are a little confusing at the moment, but when I kiss you, it will not be because a quiz told me to, but because I have found a moment you deserve, okay?”
And then Supergirl is gone, and Lena is left drowning in the fact she said when.