Archive of Our Own

Time is the longest distance between two places.

Tennessee William

***********

It had been a year since Kara last cleaned the house.

She wasn't a lazy person, but she was quite demotivated from getting up and picking small things into a box. All of her stuff scattered everywhere, it was fine to her but her sister Alex complained everytime she came by for a visit. Kara had two days off from work so she decided to do the hard work today and rested the next one.

She started with her own room, then the kitchen, and the living room. Fortunately, she didn’t have a garden, therefore she could spare herself the work of gardening that she was not an expert like her mother. It was a bit tiring, but after twenty minutes, Kara’s body began to get used to the rhythm of the work, and she quickly found herself humming to a song while wiping away the spider web in the corner of the ceiling.

She felt glad that she owned a small house, but of course, living in this neighborhood of National City, every house had a basement. Hers had a tiny one, but the dirtiness should not be underestimated. Kara had prepared herself a pair of thick gloves and facemask before she even opened the door to the basement.

It was darker than she remembered.

The last time she walked down here was probably last year, when she needed a place to dump all of the stuff she didn’t use much, but couldn’t throw away just yet because Kara was a stacker, as her family always said.

Kara could remember the moment she bought this notebook, or why she had thought that rough-looking chair was cool enough to spend some money on, but when she reached a particular machine, she couldn’t place why she had it.

It was a mildly heavy piece with lots of parts in it, and just by a glimpse, she could tell it was a typewriter, the kind of thing that writers usually used to do their work with. Kara put it aside, planning to clean it later, perhaps it would be worth a few dollars for an old machine.

Kara completely forgot about it, until later that night, when she realized she hadn’t closed the basement door, Kara returned to the spot and found the typewriter that she hadn’t put among the stuff she wanted to get rid of.

She decided to clean it.

The thing didn’t seem too dusty, despite lying silently in the basement for a whole year. It must had something to do with the old blanket that had fallen on it. She still searched on the internet how to properly clean a typewriter. When she wiped off the dust on the hood, the machine’s name was revealed.

STERLING

Smith - Corona

It was easier to have an exact name for the thing she was trying to learn how to clean. It actually took her a lot of things to do this and it was too late so Kara settled with cleaning everything she could first, without separating the parts.

It didn’t occur to her that cleaning the machine would take so much time until she put down the rag cloth and realized it was already ten o’clock. Kara never went to bed at this hour but the work of the day had worn her out a bit, therefore she decided to take a quick shower and head to bed later.

Tsk, tsk, tsk…ding. tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…

Tsk…, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding...

The first thing that greeted her when she stepped out of the bathroom was strange noises. It sounded like something Kara should know, because it irked something familiar, but not personally familiar, like she only heard these sounds in movies. A robbery came into her mind firstly, so Kara quickly snatched the hair dryer wire, preparing herself.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding… tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk....

The sounds came from the living room. Crap, please don’t take my TV.

Tsk, tsk, tsk… tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, ding...

Kara squinted her eyes from behind the big plant pot near the entrance to catch a glimpse of the intruder so that she could at least describe their appearance for the police later. But to her surprise, there was nobody in the living room.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…

The creepy sounds kept echoing into her ears. Kara felt chills running down her spines when she stood there, her eyes glued at the typewriter that she had just cleaned about ten minutes ago, which was typing on its own.

“What kind of witchcraft…” she muttered and took a closer step.

The machine paused, which made Kara also paused her pace.

Then it began again. This time it startled Kara even worse, but she had expected it so luckily the hair on her neck didn’t rise too much.

Still, Kara was curious. Could it be a prank that her sister had set for her? But it was impossible. Alex was not in town and Kara didn’t tell anyone about her cleaning the house.

Or…

Her house was haunted.

Kara shuddered, thinking about that possibility. She had bought this house for over three years and a half, and besides the occasional creaking at the balcony window on windy days, nothing seemed abnormal about it.

Could it be that the machine had malfunctioned and was playing on its own because Kara had touched it wrongly?

That might be it.

Kara grabbed the spatula from the kitchen and poked the thing. It still went on with its work, sometimes paused as if it was thinking, and then continued.

“Hey,” she called out, “if you are a spirit, can you give me a sign? Space twice if yes and space thrice if no.”

The machine didn’t reply the way she wanted, still typing away an invisible paragraph. She rolled eyes to herself for acting silly. There was no such thing as ghosts or spirits.

Kara shouldn’t think that way, though, when she was literally watching a typewriter working on its own. It was no longer scary but rather fascinating.

What if it is trying to tell me something?

Kara returned to the living room after getting comfy in a sweater and a pair of sweatpants, bringing a notebook and a pen. Setting the spatula aside, Kara sat down in front of the typewriter and frowned at the words that were being typed out. Then she started writing everything, as quick as possible.

The more was written, the more horrified she got.

‘...I called out for help, but no one was around. My eyes were blindfolded and my hands were tied. I was trapped in this place. It felt like a metal box. I needed someone to help me. I needed a direction. I needed to get out of here. Help me…’

Ding.

Kara gasped when the typewriters stopped suspiciously with after that three dots. The carriage had come down to another line but nothing else was typed. Her hands froze on the notebook and she was praying that it would continue. But the roll thing that had been moving left and right had stopped.

So someone is really trapped in this typewriter.

She clenched her hands, feeling like she was Aladdin in front of the magical lamp, trying to find a way to activate it. Perhaps…

Kara even thought it was dumb to rub the typewriter’s side, so she retreated her hand from it. It had to have a way, though.

So she began to put her index finger and middle finger on two letters.

Tsk, tsk.

hi

There it was. Kara had typed a word. It didn’t appear on the machine because there was no paper sheet but she felt like something had noticed the change. She held her breath, like something would jump out of the machine and grope her.

It might, actually. She had actively talked to a ghost, probably.

What if it’s an evil spirit, trying to lure me into that box so it can be free?

Now that was something she should have thought about first before stupidly pressing those two letters.

Suddenly, the carriage flicked down and the roller ran to the left, making a ‘ding’ sound that nearly sent Kara’s soul to heaven. She watched in horror as the thing return, presumably that the imaginary paper sheet had moved up so the continuous words would be on the next line.

When she had thought everything was just only in her head, and whatever that had caused the typewriter to malfunction had been fixed.

It wasn’t.

Tsk, tsk,... tsk.

The word repeated. And then another thing was added behind it.

Hi?

It was a question. Kara quickly scribbled down and set her hands on the letters again to answer.

who are you?

Kara waited for a response, hoping she might get some kind of clue for the supernatural event occurring right before her eyes. But the reply was another question.

Who are you???

She frowned at the phrase she had just written down on the notebook. The mysterious being inside the typewriter wanted to know who she was. Was it safe enough for her to tell her name? It was probably not.

So she went with an ambiguous answer. Pushing the carriage along with the roller to the right, Kara was ready to write what she wanted to say.

the owner of this machine

She typed slowly, hoping she wouldn’t get any letter wrong and waited. The being’s reply came almost immediately.

Impossible . It paused, and then added very quickly. I am the owner of this machine. I bought it myself.

That was strange. Kara knew that this typewriter was among the stuff that had been given to her as a housewarming gift from over three years ago, she couldn’t remember from whom, but she recalled seeing it for the first time and wondered why she was given the machine. Kara didn’t even write.

Another strange thing was the being claimed to be the owner of the machine and even “bought” it.

i just took it from my basement. how could you be the one to bought it?

Kara received the reply not too long after.

I can’t explain this either. Some kind of freaky portal? This is scary. The mysterious being paused, and then typed some more. By the way, you ruined my draft.

draft?

Yes, I’m working on a book.

Kara felt like this was a crucial point to give another clue for what the heck was happening.

are you a writer?

Not a well-known one. And you? You’re not a ghost, I hope.

Kara smiled, finding it funny that the other half of this conversation also had the same speculation like she did. This solved the mystery a little, proving that the being that was chatting with her was at least not a ghost.

no, i am human and a plumber.

The mysterious chat-mate responded slower than before.

No offense, but why does a plumber have a typewriter in his basement?

This presumably writer assumed her gender, which was rude but common because people normally didn’t see female plumber a lot, so Kara decided to correct them, rather than make a fuss.

it was given to me as a gift, and i’m not a guy.

The typing on the other side of the world was quicker.

I’m very sorry for assuming, it was impolite of me. I’m also not a guy.

The sincere apology got on Kara’s good side, it was also because the other person was a girl.

it’s fine, i get that a lot. can i know your name? After typing it down, Kara decided to be extra careful. or pen name, if you’re writing under it.

It’s Checkmate.

The name rang something familiar, Kara thought it was a cool pen name, and probably a famous one, if the writer was being humble.

that sounds scary and mysterious. i’m guessing you’re a thriller writer?

I am, actually. And the book I’m writing is also a thriller. What about your name?

Kara took a moment to think. She knew nothing about this person, except for them being a female writer. How the conversation was still going was also a mystery to her. So she went with something simple.

call me k. my name starts with it.

Alright, K. Where do you live?

The picture began to clear up. Checkmate was living in Metropolis, Kara was in National City, which meant that they were at most seventy miles away from each other. Checkmate didn’t mention her age but Kara guessed that she must be older than her, considering Checkmate’s out-of-date knowledge about the urban culture.

what? you haven’t heard of game of thrones? that is the best series ever!

I’m serious. I don’t usually watch fantasy fiction.

okay, do you read?

Yes. Why?

it’s based on a book series called ‘the song of fire and ice’. please read.

Is it good? The books I mean.

i heard people saying it’s good. i haven’t read so i don’t know. but you should really try.

I’ll drop by the bookstore tomorrow. Thank you for the recommendation. I really need to loosen up my mind a bit. Writer’s block is the worst.

Kara had heard about that term. It was something that stopped a writer from continue writing their story. She never encountered such thing, but she could understand the situation.

good luck. maybe you’ll have inspirations from the books.

Probably. I’m desperate. The deadline is coming and I still have two chapters left.

when is it?

End of February. This is the final book for my series, so I just need to end it the way I have planned. But I didn’t expect the murderer revelation would be this hard.

why?

Because I’m afraid it wouldn’t be satisfying. What if there is a plot hole regarding the revelation? What if it doesn’t worth the wait? What if the killer is better off a mystery? It was something Karar could agree with. She loved crime series, and if the killer was unreasonable, she would be disappointed, too. Checkmate typed while she didn’t answer. Sorry for suddenly dumping all of this on you. Chatting with a faceless writer is enough for one night, eh?

She quickly replied, not wanting Checkmate to think she actually found the situation that way. it’s not like that. i’m trying to find a way to help you.

Why do you want to help? We don’t even know each other.

Kara wasn’t sure why, but their conversation somehow had created an interest in Kara, pulling her in, wanting to prolong this supernatural incident longer. why not? what if we don’t get the chance to chat tomorrow? it’s best to make the most out of everything.

That makes sense. But I shouldn’t burden a stranger with my problems. This is an exceptional experience for me.

i’d say the same thing. well, i wish you the very best for your book, checkmate.

Thank you. Are you going to bed?

She checked the clock, yawning as the sight seeped into her mind. It was almost twelve o’clock. Gosh, this late already? She shouldn’t keep Checkmate up any longer.

yeah, it’s almost midnight.

What? It’s only 10 p.m.

no, it’s almost midnight for m- Wait a minute… Kara could feel like she was about to figure something out. what date is it where you are?

10th January, 2010. Why?

Kara froze on her chair. The date was the same but the year was not. How fascinating!

it’s 10th january for me too, but in 2013. it sounds crazy but probably this typewriter is a time machine.

Kara could practically imagine the surprise and shock on Checkmate’s side, even though she couldn’t see her. Eventually, Checkmate replied. I don’t believe this.

it seems logical to me. i mean, you haven’t heard of game of freaking thrones because the first season was in 2011, a year after your time!

Fine. Let’s say it is a time machine. What will happen on 11th January, 2010?

It took Kara a few minutes to grab her phone and searched on the internet because she couldn’t even recall what she had eaten yesterday morning, let alone remember something from three years ago. Finally picking out an event, Kara typed back.

do you know simon cowell?

Yes.

he’ll leave american idol tomorrow on your time.

I don’t watch that show so I’m not sure if it’s significant enough to prove this time machine theory.

you’re chatting with someone through a typewriter, checkmate. time traveling might not be a stretch.

Okay, that makes ridiculous sense. I still don’t think it’s possible.

what if it’s possible? wanna bet on it?

I probably should not make a deal with a supernatural face-less plumber, K. Many horror movies stated that clear. Let’s see if we can communicate tomorrow night.

at 7pm on your time, is that ok?

It’s good. Good night, K.

good night, checkmate.

_______________________________

If Kara didn’t see the words appearing gradually after every ‘tsk’ right in front of her, she would think that everything that had happened last night was a weird dream. But the keys were moving constantly against the paper sheet that she had inserted today. Kara had spent the free morning to learn more about typewriters and how they worked, so she could make it work and she wouldn’t have to trace her eyes along every time Checkmate pressed a key and make out the words.

Simon Cowell does leave American Idol, so I temporarily accept the theory that this typewriter is a time machine. Writing that out is so odd. I’m quite tempted by the idea of knowing the future, though.

do you want to know the lottery number? i’ll gladly help you if you split the money in half for me.

Very practical, K, but I’d rather not exploit this and risk ruining the timeline.

then what do you want to know?

The other side of reality seemed to take their time to think. Kara didn’t rush, she had a lot of time at night.

...I’d love to know how my future self ends the book. Kara thought it was reasonable and was about to bring out her phone but Checkmate added something. But that’s the easy way. I shouldn’t do that.

it’s still your story, i think it wouldn’t change much.

You just want to spoil me on my own book, sneaky. Kara laughed out loud because a part of her intention had been seen through. She didn’t expect to enjoy the conversation so much, like she was actually talking to a person in a cafe, not through a supernatural method that only existed in movies. And I still can’t know, it would create a time paradox.

She snickered as she typed. and you said you don’t believe in time traveling.

I still have my doubts, but it doesn’t harm taking things seriously.

come on, checkmate. you must be dying to know about your book.

No, thank you.

Fine, I’ll do some research myself. It’s my timeline anyway.

Kara entered Google and searched the pen name ‘Checkmate’ and the key word ‘book’. Quickly, the results came. There were a lot of things with that phrase in, including conspiracy theories, accidents, random nickname generator, a fanfic archive, something in the comics also, but nothing about books. She clicked on the tenth page of Google and then decided that it gave no result.

Well? asked Checkmate, hesitantly. Kara didn’t know how to reply just yet. It was terrible, right?

The question stayed sadly on the paper sheet. The keys didn’t move anymore, waiting for her turn. Kara didn’t think it would be bad or anything, but finding nearly nothing about the pen name did strike as a bad news. She didn’t see the writer’s face, but she could sense a frown face on the other side of time. It would be heartbreaking for Checkmate to know.

i won’t tell you. protecting the timeline, right? just know that i’d go and buy your first book tomorrow.

That’s very sweet of you, K. I hope you’d like what I wrote, haha.

Kara smiled to herself. It was very weird to see the ‘haha’ at the end of Checkmate’s sentence. She sounded happy, though insecure, but joyful, and that was great. She sighed and closed the tab on her phone but before her thumb tapped the screen, she spotted a few words under the last link of the page that caused her to freeze.

‘Checkmate’s book signing - The Vineyard (National City) - 3rd May, 2010’

There was a book signing under the name Checkmate, which meant she had managed to finish the book! Thrilled with the good news, she quickly told Checkmate.

don’t worry. you’ll definitely finish that book. there was even a book signing!

Wait, really???

yes!!! do you want to know more?

Wait, wait, wait, I’m nervous. I’ve never hosted a book signing before. Kara was grinning so hard, her cheeks were sore. It was real. Checkmate was real. The time machine was also real. She was not delusional. Everything was happening was real. Are you sure that is me?

is there another writer with the pen name checkmate?

Not that I know of. Oh my god, this is great. Okay. Okay. I think I should satisfy my curiosity with a little bit more information, if you don’t mind.

absolutely not. i’m at your service, ma’am. what do you want to know?

...what are my options? What do you know so far?

the location and the date.

The location first, please.

it’s a place called ‘the vineyard’ in national city.

Really? I thought I’d host it in Metropolis. Hmm, interesting. I wonder why I picked, or will pick, National City.

because of the food? here we have excellent potstickers.

I have no idea. I’ve never been to National City.

Kara’s mouth dropped. ‘Never been to National City’ was not something she expected.

okay you don’t see me right now but i’m gasping in shock. how haven’t you visited nc? we have the best view at the port, you can also ride a bike along the dancing brook, or hire a boat or even go fishing. metropolis is right next to that river, checkmate.

I don’t travel much, mostly for my books, but not for entertaining purposes. The Dancing Brook is quite a popular location, maybe I’ll drop by.

i can be your guide.

That sounds nice. After finishing the book, I’ll come to NC and you’ll show me around, is that a deal?

Kara suddenly felt utterly happy that she might get to meet Checkmate in person, then the problem about time had struck her. Quickly typing out her concern, she waited for Checkmate’s answer.

you would have to wait for three years, checkmate. is that okay with you?

Don’t worry. I’ll set the reminder. Let’s pick a date.

A date?

Kara froze a bit, feeling heat creeping onto her face. Silly, she means the date for the visit. Facepalming herself for thinking too far, Kara then leaned back on the chair, thinking about a possible date. Her eyes drifted back at the phone and she quickly turned on the screen to read the rest of the book signing information.

how about 3rd May?

Sure. But why that date? It’s nearly four months from right now in your time.

it’s an important day for you, checkmate.

No. Way. Kara laughed out loud when it took Checkmate nearly a minute to understand what she was implying. K, you sly little fox. But I don’t mind this. Thank you.

you’re welcome, checkmate.

___________________________

Everynight, right at 9 p.m, Kara always sat in front of the typewriter and “talk” to Checkmate. Their conversation had slowly shifted from ideas of the book to looking at the world back in 2010 for Kara or a glimpse of 2013 for Checkmate. The writer had opened up a bit about herself that had nothing to do with writing. She loved animals and had a pony once. She was adopted but the adoptive family always treated her as one of their own, so she never felt out of place.

I’m adopted, too. Kara decided to share the thing they both had in common. Her writing was quicker and she got used to putting the capital letters just to match with Checkmate’s writing.

Have you ever found your way back to your parents?

I don’t have to. I know who they were. They passed away in an accident, I was the only survivor.

Oh… that’s tragic.

What about you? Have you tried to find them?

My mother died when I was too young and I wasn’t born in this country. I don’t have many clues about the life with my mother. My adoptive mother is strict, but she’s kind-hearted. How is your adoptive mother?

She isn’t strict, she’s more like a best friend to me :D. My sister, on the other hand, is sometimes hard on me, but only for my own good. She was the one to help me practicing my plumping skills.

Oh, you have a sister? I have a brother. He isn't always at home due to business trips but he always calls me.

Aw, I wish my sister calls.

She doesn’t do that?

Nope, she goes straight to my house and pulls the blanket off me if I dare to forget dropping by her house on the weekend. She’s scary sometimes, but I love her.

I adore my brother, too. I guess we’re both lucky enough to find another family after losing our own.

The more Kara chatted with Chekmate, the more curious she got about the woman. What was she like in real life? What was her voice like? What would it be for them to actually meet? Would it be awkward? Or would it be fun? They had a lot of in common, besides some disagreement in movie choices, but Kara didn’t play that as something important because, come on, Checkmate was three years behind.

Kara didn’t find it fun hanging out anymore, she was more concern about the person whose face and name she hadn’t learned. She never wanted to be late for their daily chat, no matter what. Checkmate was always there with the typewriter, according to her, like a rule she had made up for herself, to be occupied with the typewriter until she had done with the book. Kara had joked a little about it, asking if Checkmate had to bring the machine into the bathroom and she got the witty answer: ‘ I’ll tell you in person.’

Kara found herself drawn more and more to Checkmate in the strangest way possible. She couldn’t tell why but she had never felt so connected with someone like this. As strange as that sounded, Kara’s heart gradually beat a little faster whenever she was the keys tapping on the paper sheet every night. It was like a crush.

It was a crush.

So this ‘Adele’ singer is amazing, right? What else do I need to remember, dear Ms. K?

Kara giggled whenever Checkmate called her ‘Ms. K’. It wasn’t a fancy name or something, but it made her feel special, and closer to Checkmate. It also sounded like a very fond nickname. Okay, have you watched Toy Story?

1 and 2, about fifty times :)

Well, get ready for Toy Story 3!

Oh my god, really????????????????????????????????? The excitement radiated from the train of question marks made Kara grin like a Cheshire cat, a proud sensation came over her chest. She always felt like this during her chat with Checkmate, even though she didn’t know her face, she could tell that she was slowly forming a bond with the writer. A rather intimate and precious bond. Could it be that Kara only projected her feelings onto everything? Or was it actually something happening, no matter how crazy it was? You have NO idea how happy I am to know that! When is it going to be released? Please tell me so I can camp outside the cinema!

It’s June, 2010. Come to the cinema and please bring your tissues.

I don’t expect less from Pixar anyway. On the scale of 1 to 10, how much of a tear-jerker would it be?

I’d say 12. I cried like a baby in the cinema. My date laughed at me, though.

Oh… you’re in a relationship? I thought y

I mean I assumed that you were single.

Kara shook her head as she typed, Nononononononono I’m single! I’m as available as any rock you pick up on the ground. Totally single, ready to mingle :)) She did not ever want Checkmate to think she was taken, at all. It was the same thing that she had been wondering about the writer as well. Was she dating anyone? Was she interested in Kara, even though just a little bit? Was Kara pining for a hopeless, no, an impossible crush? And what if Checkmate was interested? It was 2010 Checkmate, things would change in three years. Kara wasn’t even sure if the writer would come to their arranged date-but-not-date a few months from now. I’m open to anyone.

Oh, good. I mean, it’s good that you’re giving others a chance. Not that I’m glad you’re single or not glad that you are. I mean it’s completely irrelevant to what we usually talk about. But it’s fine if you want to takl about it now. Or not. Please, whatever you want.

A grin stretched uncontrollably on Kara’s face. She typed back a tease.Well, well, well, did I just got you stutter? Is that even possible to stutter while typing? Don’t think I didn’t notice that typo, C.

Absolutely not. I’m just- Checkmate paused mid-way, as if she was thinking, then didn’t continue. Kara had to take the part.

...yes? The carriage stood still, as if it was left behind. Or time had frozen. Kara got scared that she had pushed the writer’s pride too far that she was mad and didn’t want to chat anymore. Slowly continuing to type, she held her breath. Checkmate, are you still there?

The carriage still didn’t move. Kara sighed longingly, rubbing her face. No, it shouldn’t be like this. They were having so much fun, why would she ruin everything with her stupidity? Now Checkmate hated her.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. She opened her eyes when she heard the roll moving along with the familiar sound of the keys tapping onto the sheet.

Yes.

Kara didn’t dare to exhale just yet. Are you mad at me? she typed hesitantly.

What? No, of course not. Why would you think so?

You didn’t write back, so I thought I overstepped something.

Oh, there was a blackout in my neighborhood so I went to get some candles. I’m glad we can still talking. Chatting, more exactly.

Me too. We can never be disconnected. A free, freaky and magical link. It’s simple but not everyone can have. Gosh, I’m being cheesy.

Don’t worry. I’m a writer, I’m definitely more cheesy than you. I would use some lame thing like ‘we are dovetailed’.

What is ‘dovetailed’?

A type of joint that is commonly used to put two pieces of wood together. I don’t know how I got that into my head but I love the word.

Dovetail sounds amazing. We’re dovetailing!

Haha, we are. Oh wait, K, waitwaitwaitwait I know! I know how to end the book! Dovetailing! Thank you, thank you so much K!

Um… you’re welcome?

K, I’m going to speed finish this book, starting right now. I still have two weeks left until the deadline. Wish me luck!

Best of luck, Checkmate.

I’m going to spend every second to write, so our chat should be delayed. Is that okay with you?

Of course. Sure. Take care. Before pulling her hands off the keys, Kara quickly put down something that she knew she wouldn’t be brave enough to type again. I’ll miss you.

Nervously waiting for the response, Kara instinctively held her breath again, covering her mouth in the suspense. Then the keys tapped slowly, bringing Checkmate’s words onto the paper and into her heart.

Me too, K.

Needless to say, Kara wasn’t able to sleep that night.

___________________

‘Missing’ wasn’t enough for Kara to describe what Kara felt. Just one week not chatting with Checkmate and she already sensed the sting of melancholic jabs everywhere in her heart. She dearly wanted to chat with Checkmate again, even just a greeting, but the typewriter constantly tapped, day and night, indicating that the writer was very busy to meet her deadline. Kara didn’t just miss Checkmate, she felt like something was ripped out of her soul, desperately begging to be filled again.

She didn’t even realize she was under such emotion until Alex pointed out during a lunch they shared near the city’s police department.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Alex asked from the other side of the table.

Kara sat up straighter, adjusting herself on the chair, the half-eaten hamburger was stuck between her fingers. “No, nothing’s wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“Kara, I’m your sister. Save your breath and tell me the truth. I can tell when you’re having troubles.”

“She’s right,” Winn, Kara’s co-worker, whose main job was to do monthly maintenance all around the city, chewed on his words, “You seemed super hyper a week ago, but this week you’re all broody. Everyone is getting worried.”

Kara rolled her eyes, “Nothing big. It’s just-  there is this… girl.”

“Holy shit, you’re having girl trouble?” Winn shouted, dropping his döner, “Do tell, do tell.”

“Yes,” Alex smiled knowingly, “I actually have some speculations, which are correct. You’re seeing someone?”

Kara had to press down the urge to burst out laughing because she was not seeing Checkmate, metaphorically or literally, though she really wanted to. She was so tempted to come to The Vineyard place to find some information about Checkmate but then she thought it would violate their date, not date , agreement, so she always stopped herself.

“Kind of,” she said, but judging by four curious eyes in front of her, she knew that what she told wasn’t enough, “we’re friends.”

“Friendzoned?” Winn stated, picking up his cup of coffee, sipping nonchalantly, “ouch.”

Alex glared at him before asking, “Have I met this ‘friend’ of yours?”

Kara shook her head. “No, you haven’t. Even I haven’t met her.” Saying ‘I’m falling for a girl who is in another timeline and we talk through a typewriter but I’m not crazy’ was the first class ticket to go into the mental hospital. It was best to keep the details out.

“Wait, how come you’re friends with someone you haven’t seen?” her co-worker asked, wide eyes.

“We write to each other,” Kara revealed half of the truth.

“Ah, pen pals,” Alex concluded, saving Kara from having to make up something silly that Alex would definitely find out it was not true. “So what happened? Did she stop writing to you?”

“Not exactly. I don’t- I’m… it’s complicated.” It was simple, actually, if Kara never developed these feelings that she knew to be more than casual friendship. It was so precious and fragile and she had kept it hidden because there were so many risks. Three years were a long time. “I don’t think she likes me that way.”

“Well the only way for you to know is asking her,” Alex stated the obvious, to which Winn agreed.

“Yeah, ball up some courage and ask the girl.”

“What about our friendship?” she asked, worried. She had thought about confessing right after Checkmate finishing her book. If things went badly, she would at least have three years to forget about it. Kara could handle the heartbreak. Probably not easily, but she was a grown up woman, she must manage. The thing was, she was a coward.

“It will affect the friendship either way, Kara.” Alex explained with patience, “You would have to endure the pain if you don’t tell, never knowing if she feels the same. I don’t tell you what to do, I’m just saying that there is a chance she’s into you.”

The words followed her until very late that day.

___________________________________

Checkmate contacted again at the beginning of March. The previous nights, Kara no longer heard the typing sound anymore and assumed that the writer had finished the last two chapters. Now she casually walked by the typewriter and spotted that Checkmate had left her a message. A long one.

Dear K,

I apologize for not contacting sooner, I have just woken up from a very long nap that took nearly two days. Writing with deadlines is not a great thing, but I was inspired so I did it. Thank you again.

I have good news. The book is finished and I still can’t believe it. It’s still in the process of proofreading and other publishing things including printing and such. The publisher is quite happy with the “dovetail plot twist” (her words) and is urging to bring my book on the stores immediately.

I can’t even describe how happy I am right now, and the only thing that upsets me that you are not around to celebrate with me. I owe you a lot, K, I don’t know how to word it out.

I’m writing this to you right before going to the airport. My brother is hosting a party at his mansion, congratulating me on my book. I’m normally not into these events but since I haven’t seen him for six months, I have to go.

Don’t worry, I’m bringing the typewriter with me, so we can still chat. But be aware, I’m going to be really busy, considering that I might get a book signing in the future. Now, I believe that the typewriter is a time machine. You were right. You are right, K.

I can’t wait to read from you. Since we’re going to meet in the future, I think you should at least know my name. You’re not obligated to tell me yours, it’s just something I have thought about for a long time. You are my friend, K, and you deserve to know it.

Sincerely,

Lena.

Kara could not believe this.

She thought she was dreaming. But the letter she could hold in her hand, the paper sheet was cool, sharp, and real. Checkmate told her her name. Her thumb ran on the four-letter word at the end of the letter, feeling her chest about to explode due to the raging heartbeat. She had to sit down on the chair to regain her composure. And sanity.

Looking down at the sheet again, she whispered the name.

“Lena…” It sounded surreal, to finally know an actuality to Check- Lena ’s life and being considered as a person in her circle. Kara hadn’t dared to think about that just yet, only hoping she got to continue chatting with her everyday, which was already a blessing. “Lena, Lena, Lena…” she repeated the name, over and over until it rolled naturally on her tongue. Then one last time, to keep it in her heart.

“Lena.”

__________________________________

How is the best-selling author doing?

Hahaha, I’m not a best-selling author. I’m great, how are you?

Great. Only missing you :)

Ever since I told you my name, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you? Cute.

Come on, Lena, it’s the truth. Not like you don’t know my name.

Are you saying that I have to be bold, too? ;)

Not a ‘have to’ but a ‘should’. I wouldn’t mind. I’m cute, right? :D

//////////

There is this movie, called ‘The Hunger Games’. I just went to see it tonight. It was good. You should check out the books.

Are you telling me to read the books because people say so?

Probably… I bought the books already. Still trying to read the first one.

Sure, I’ll check them out. For you, Kara.

/////////

I met the biggest douchebag today. He cut in the line I was waiting in the bank. I told him to get back to the end and he didn’t budge, thinking I wasn’t intimidating because I’m small.

What happened next? Did you taekwon-down him? :))

I told you many times, Kara, I know Jiu-jitsu, not Taekwondo. And I only know a little. I wouldn’t be able to take down a 6ft guy. Anyway, other people were fed up and told him off. He finally had to do it.

Haha, nice. How is your book signing going?

It’s been great. I also know where we should meet in 2013, Kara. I have already booked our place in The Vineyard. We should celebrate together.

The same place you host the book signing? Why?

It’s actually a restaurant. We can eat there, you know, like a - Lena paused again. Kara would like to think that the other girl was going to type ‘date’, which would be awesome, but they hadn’t talked about it. She nervously waited. - What would you like to call it? Ah, clever Lena, throwing this at her.

Kara had thought about coming clean about her feelings, which were growing in her everyday. But it was risky also, to put yourself out there and be vulnerable enough. She was afraid that three years would always blur away one’s feelings, no matter how strong they were. Not that she didn’t have faith in Lena, she just didn’t want her to burden with the responsibility of carrying the emotion for that long without any kind of nurture. It would be wrong for Lena, therefore Kara told herself to keep her heartbeat down.

A meeting? :)

Sounds professional, but sure. We have a meeting. Just thinking about it makes me a bit nervous, you know.

Me too. Can you describe yourself?

I’m not tall, as you already know. I have black hair and average features. I’d get lost in any crowd.

Nonsense. I would recognize you. I recognize talents everywhere.

You’re very sweet, do you know that? Hey, describe yourself to me.

I’m probably taller than you, the average girl next door that you can meet everywhere. My hair is blond.

Oh, really? I never expect that. You being a blonde, I mean.

Why?

I have no idea. Do you know that I even searched for ‘female plumber’ just to have a better view of how you might look like?

Interesting. How do you picture me?

If I combine all of the information I’ve gathered so far, you’d look quite charming, Kara. Sexy even.

Her fingers froze.

She thinks I’m sexy?

Kara felt hot all of sudden. It was very flattering of Lena, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get rid of this shyness soon. She had sure pictured Lena before, and it was embarrassing how stereotypical her imagination was.

I’m definitely not sexy, or charming.

Let’s agree to disagree. You always make me laugh, Kara, and that is charming. Your humor is sexy.

So that has nothing to do with how I look, right?

It doesn’t matter how you look. I like you for who you are.

The second heart attack of the night. Damn it, Lena.

The writer definitely made it difficult for Kara to try to play down her feelings. How could she not get flustered?

Her hands were a bit shaking when she typed the reply.

You like me, huh?

Yes.

Kara gripped on the edge of the table, trying to steady herself because her heart was about to fail. Lena liked her. Wait, it could be her looking too deep. She could mean in the friendly way. She had to make sure.

Is that a confession?

Lena didn’t answer right away, making Kara’s head spin. Please be yes. Please be yes. Please be yes.

Do you want it to be?

Of course, she wanted it to be a confession. But would it sound so desperate? Oh, heck, screw it.

Would it be terrible if I do?

No . Lena hesitated again. Kara hoped she didn’t regret her answer. I meant it as a confession. So it would be great if you’re okay with that.

Okay? I am fantastic! I like that you like me. No I love that you like me. Yes. Totally love it!!!

My cheeks are sore from grinning, you doofus :)

That makes two of us, doofus ;)

__________________

Your book signing is tomorrow. How quick the time flies.

I know. You’re going to meet me, too. I’m more nervous about that than the signing.

Why?

Because you’ll meet me of three years later. I hope you won’t be disappointed.

I’m sure I won’t.

I don’t know… I would be on the clouds meeting you right now, but how can I be sure about myself after three years? What if I’m in a relationship? What if I’m married?

That was what Kara was afraid, too. If she met with a Lena who no longer liked her, her heart would shatter, but what else she could do? She still wanted to meet Lena, no matter what. If 2013 Lena didn’t feel the same anymore, then they could be friends. Not easily, but Kara would try.

You don’t know that yet. Even if you’re not into me anymore, that’s okay.

How could it be okay? I don’t want to hurt you.

And I don’t want to burden you with anything. Know this, nothing makes me happier than meeting you in person.

Kara, you are such an amazing person. I’m so fortunate to know you.

Me too, Lena. Me too. When is your book signing?

11 a.m. And our meeting is at 1 p.m to match with my timeline. We’ll celebrate the signing together, then you’ll take me to see the city, right?

Yup. Then I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’ll see you in three years.

____________________________

Kara tapped her fingers on the wheel. She was a bit nervous, knowing that she had come a bit early. She decided to drive around to cool her heart down, and dropped by the coffee shop where Alex would usually be there to have lunch.

Her sister actually spotted her first, when she was glancing around at the door. She waved Kara to the table, where she saw another person was also there.

“Hey there, Maggie, you’re back already?” she greeted as they hugged. “How was the Gotham Department?”

“It was alright,” her sister’s fiance answered with a frown, “I was only there to help with a case, but everyone insisted that I should stay. The criminal rate is ridiculously high and there are plenty of opportunities to get promotion there rather than here, but I wouldn’t want to live there. NC is more peaceful, safer.”

That Kara agreed. But Alex didn’t. “If you work in the hospital, you wouldn’t say so, babe.”

“What was the worst case you have ever gotten?” Maggie asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Probably the one with the flipped cab on Starlight Boulevard. Three deaths, thirty-four injures. Poor girl.” Alex shuddered when she recalled. Kara remembered a little about that grand accident that had blocked the boulevard for nearly a day to remove the crashed cab and bus.

It was reported on the radio while Kara was at work. The accident was some kind of Gotham-level of terrible, therefore the news recasted over and over for the whole day. Winn had stayed in the office so he told Kara about it. Then, Alex, who was among the doctors who had to come to the scene, told Kara about the poor woman who had been still alive right after the crash, then died on the way to the hospital.

“And when was that?” asked Maggie.

“Three years ago. 3rd, May, 2010.”

“Exactly. It’s been a while.”

Kara’s heart struck at something. Suddenly, a cold sensation ran along her spines. Lena was right now on her way to The Vineyard restaurant, and the place located on Starlight Boulevard.

“Alex,” she grabbed her sister’s shoulder, startling her, “are you sure it was three years ago? On 3rd May?”

Surprised by her reaction, Alex still answered, “Yeah, I had to file a lot of reports after that.”

“W-who died?” Kara heard her voice shaking. Not just it, her entire body was vibrating with fear. “What were their names?”

“It’s a long time ago, how can I remember that much specific details?” Alex frowned in concern, “Why are you asking that?”

“W-when was the accident happen? Why did it happen?” she nearly shouted. People started staring at them but she was not in the mood to worry about it.

“Around 11 o’clock. The cab driver had a heart attack. Hey, are you okay? Your face is so pale.”

Kara left the coffee shop, leaving stunned Alex and confused Maggie behind. She rushed to the car. During the run, Kara pulled out the phone and searched ‘cab and bus accident 3rd May 2010’ and a page full of pictures with the graphic images. Scrolling down quickly as she opened the car door, she caught three pictures of two men and a woman. A black hair woman.

The three victims have been identified. Mr. Claudio Imeson, the bus driver; Mr. Cory Klatzky, the taxi driver and Ms. Lena Luthor, the only passenger in the taxi. The accident occurred due to Mr. Klatzky’s sudden heart attack that has prevented him from stopping at the red light, leading to the vehicle blocking the bus at 37mph. The crash has sent the taxi flipping along Starlight Boulevard for three times, according to the witnesses, before stopping for good. Ms. Luthor was reported to be alive after the crash but-

The phone dropped from her shaky hands. Kara felt the tears running down her cheeks.

No, no, no, it can’t be. She can’t-

Her blurred vision drifted to the clock of her car. It was 12:58 a.m. It would be 10:58 a.m 3rd May 2010 in Lena’s timeline right now.

There was still a chance.

Two minutes. I have two minutes. I have to warn Lena.

Lena used to tell her that changing too much from the past would result in a time paradox or a drastic change at the present.

Fuck that.

She opened the car door and rushed to the trunk, where she had put the typewriter. Her hands crazily typed.

Lena - the keys felt heavier against her fingers, as if it was preventing her from typing the warning - don - her finger pressed sharply on the ‘t’, and when she let go, the key halted right after tapping on the paper. Kara used her index finger to pull it back and slammed it on the ‘g’. The ‘o’ key stuck against the paper, when she hooked a finger to pull it back, it didn’t budge no more. It was mocking her.

“NO!” she shouted at the machine, clenching her hands and smashed the keys, hoping somehow it would fix the damn thing, but nothing happened.

The warning wasn’t complete. She didn’t have the time to fully tell Lena not to step on that cab. Not to die.

Tears streaming down her face, washing her hope away.

The clock jumped to 1:00 p.m.

___________________________________

Kara blinked several times, taking in the surroundings.

She was in a parking lot. But why was she here?

The heavy thing in her hand was something writers usually use. Kara definitely didn’t need this. But why did she have it? It had a stuck key, seemingly broken. Whose typewriter was this?

Walking to the driver seat, she placed the machine on the front seat and found a little sticky note.

1:00 p.m, The Vineyard.

Bring the typewriter for L :)

L? Who was that?

Did she have an appointment and she forgot about it? Most likely. There was this weird urge inside her, telling her to come to this place as soon as possible. It felt really important.

Kara found that even her navigation was also pointing her to this Vineyard place. She started the car and drove there.

She did exactly what was written in the note, bringing the typewriter into the warm-looking restaurant. There were a few people there but the reception desk was free so she headed straight for the desk. Glancing at the giant mirror on the left wall, Kara noticed that she was having some makeup on.

Why would I put on makeup if this is just a simple delivery?

“Good afternoon, Miss, how can I help you?” the smiling receptionist greeted her.

“Um, hi, I’m looking for ‘L’,” she knew she sounded stupid.

“I’m sorry, are you looking for a person?”

“I don’t know,” Kara sighed, holding up the typewriter for the receptionist to see, “I was told to return this thing to ‘L’. Can you do anything with that information?”

The receptionist picked up the phone with a sympathetic smile, “I’ll ask around. Please wait at the lobby.”

Kara followed the instruction and chose an empty couch to sit on. There was only one person already in the lobby, reading some newspaper. Kara leaned against the chair and took the time to study the typewriter. She had no idea what she was doing here, but somehow it felt like it was meant to be.

Suddenly, the stuck key flicked back to its proper place.

“Beautiful machine. Is it yours?”

Kara looked up from the typewriter and met with a pair of gorgeous green eyes, staring at her from the sofa on her right. The stranger had put down her newspaper and was giving Kara a kind smile that somehow worked her up inside. She was such a pretty woman.

“Ah, no. It’s not mine. I have no idea what to do with this thing. I’m returning it.”

“Oh, well, it looks exactly like the one I had three years ago when I was working for a book. It suddenly broke and I couldn’t fix it so I sold it.” The woman seemed sad.

“You write books? Are you a writer?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you here to write another book?”

The woman chuckled, “No. I’m here to meet someone, I think. This meeting was written on my calendar for who knows how long and I marked ‘incredibly important’ so I came here. I haven’t been to National City for three years.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“I almost got into an accident. My typewriter disfunctioned and typed something odd on the paper. I was about to get on the taxi then. Another guy tried to steal my taxi and argued a little. The taxi driver suddenly had a heart attack and we both drove him to the hospital. If I had gotten on the cab sooner, who knows what would happen?”

“Wow, lucky.”

“Sorry,” the woman shyly smiled, “I’m babbling again. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a plumber.”

“Very impressive.”

The receptionist came to them and announced that she couldn’t find anyone with the identity of ‘L’. It seemed like the stranger was also waiting for someone but they didn’t show up. They were left alone in the same odd situation after both declining the receptionist’s offer for a spot in the restaurant.

“And I drove all the way here,” said the stranger, picking up her bag.

“Wait, since you’re here already, do you want to see around the city?” Kara invited, hoping the beautiful stranger wouldn’t find her too forward, “I’ll take you. Today is my free day and we’re both here for people who don’t show up. What do you say?”

Green eyes gleamed with amusement. “That sounds nice. I don’t have to go back until tonight anyway. But should I go with a stranger I just met just because they’re cute?”

She blushed at the flirt, standing up, offering her hand, “Hi, my name is Kara Danvers. Nice to meet you.”

The pale and warm hand wrapped around Kara’s hand, gently squeezing the electricity beating from her heart out. “Hi, I’m Lena Luthor. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

At the end of the day, Kara gave Lena the typewriter because it was not useful for her and she needed an excuse to ask for her number.

The keys of the typewriter never got stuck ever again.

***********

“Sometimes you need a second chance, because time wasn’t ready for the first one.”

Unknown