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Earth is hard. Kara knows that better than anyone. Earth feels difficult even when it's easy, because sometimes the reason is - it isn't about the thing itself, but about what that thing is not. Earth isn't Titan, and it's never going to be.
(Just like it's never going to be Krypton, that small voice in Kara's heart whispers, the one she does her best to ignore.)
Earth is hard, but Imra is strong and thoughtful and brave and she's turning out to be more resilient than Kara had ever imagined she would be. She's got an apartment, now. (Pam was very obliging after Supergirl marched into her office to give her a lecture about the history of the labour movement) She's renting a little one-bedroom in the building down the street from Kara's. She's learned about old-fashioned Earth furniture, has a sofa and a lamp and a bed and a duvet cover decorated with intricate geometric mosaic patterns.
Imra smiles, when Kara brings her a plant to care for. Kara can't tell, at first, if she's smiling out of politeness or genuine appreciation. But when she comes by Imra's place again five weeks later, the plant she brought is flowering and it has at least four more neighbours, all clearly arranged with care and attention on the windowsill.
They set up a standing date.
It's not a date date. They're not dating. It's a friend date. At least, that's how Kara describes it to Lena and Sam and Alex and Winn when they each ask her, separately but somehow with the same expression: eyebrows raised and the same gentle half-smile.
Kara knows what they're implying, the thing they want to ask, but that's not something she wants to talk about just yet.
It's a friend date, but the last three times they've done this, they've walked home from the restaurant holding hands. And each time, holding Imra's hand has made Kara feel - light is the only way she can think to describe it. Like she's floating.
It's a friend date but last week they lingered in front of Imra's apartment and she gave Kara this look, soft-eyed and warm. Afterwards, Kara couldn't stop thinking about kissing.
This week, Kara's taking Imra for dumplings.
They're working their way through all the best restaurants in National City: Kara wanted to show Imra all the different kinds of food Earth could offer. Imra is happy to be taught. So far they've learned that Imra loves anything spiced with Korean hot pepper paste and is still deciding how she feels about sushi, prefers green tea and red bean ice cream to the fancy hipster flavours that Kara likes so much.
Kara meets Imra at her apartment, and walks her down to the little dumpling shop in Chinatown, the one that almost always has a line-up stretching out the door. They stand together, making small talk as they wait. As soon as they get close to the front of the restaurant and get their first waft of air from inside, Imra breathes deeply and laughs. "Oh, it smells lovely," she says. "I think I'm going to like this one."
The line is tight once they cross the threshold, five people crammed into the entryway of the restaurant. Kara ends up with a menu in her hands, and Imra pressed against her side and reading over Kara's shoulder. Imra's whole body feels warm and strong and Kara is doing her very best not to think about how that makes her feel. She focuses on the paper in her hand, concentrating so intently that she nearly sends a blast of heat vision into it but that's - it's fine. She's a good friend, here on a friend date, with her beautiful soft friend Imra who smells like nice girl-smell and has a smile that can light up a whole galaxy. They're going to eat dumplings.
The table, when they're seated, is tiny. Just big enough for both of them to sit. Imra doesn't know what to order, so Kara ticks off her top five - actually, six - different orders, half steamed and half fried plus an order of pork buns.
Imra looks charmed. She's smiling at everything, wide-eyed like it's - it is the first time she's eaten in a place like this before. The smell of food is everywhere, warm and comforting. Imra turns in her chair, taking in the decorations, the food, the people around them. "This is just so -" she starts to say, before she catches sight of the staff working at the counter. The one who's rolling out dough on an assembly line, passing them to her partner who folds dumpling after dumpling by hand. Imra's smile, if it's possible, gets even wider. "Is that what we're eating?"
"Yeah," Kara says. She has a sudden urge to put her hand on the table, just in case Imra wants to hold it.
Imra covers Kara's hand with both of hers, squeezing softly. "I can't wait."
+
They add dumplings to the list of Earth foods Imra likes. Her favourite kind are the little steamed ones, with pork and chives. Kara's favourite thing is getting to eat dinner with Imra. She loves the way Imra's brow furrows in concentration as she focuses on her chopsticks, and the way her mouth goes soft with delight at every new thing, every pleasant surprise.
A friendly kind of love. The sort of love that friends might have for each other.
It's Kara's turn to pay for dinner.
She settles the bill while Imra lingers behind her, still distracted by the woman rolling the dumplings. Kara feels pleasantly full, dumplings stacked inside her stomach and her heart swelling with affection for Imra and the eager, earnest way she experiences so much of Earth.
They walk out into the night, and Imra takes Kara's arm, wrapping both hands around Kara's bicep. "Oh, I'm so full," she murmurs. "That was delicious."
"They're my favourite," Kara says. "Especially the crispy ones. They're so little and tasty, it's like -"
"- you could always find room for one more," Imra finishes. Kara doesn't look over at her. She knows the expression she'll find: Imra watching Kara closely, soft-eyed and full of interest.
Kara feels her cheeks start to warm. She's suddenly grateful for the chill in the night air around them. "Do you want to go for a walk?" she asks.
Imra squeezes Kara's arm. "Of course."
Kara leads them down the street, around a corner and toward the main neighbourhood street. There's a huge wooden gate at the end of the block, spanning the entire road. It's painted red and gold, decorated with dragons and lions. Above the road are strings of lights, spanning from the pillars of the gate to the buildings on either side. It's a bit of a tourist attraction, and it's still early enough that Kara spots a few pairs of sightseers taking selfies.
It's also more than a little romantic. Kara doesn't mean for it to be, but she hears Imra's soft gasp at the sight all the same, her whispered, "Oh."
Imra's hands slide a little lower, from Kara's elbow to her wrist, until she's able to play with Kara's fingers. She's got her palm against Kara's palm, loosely, and the other hand is running back and forth across Kara's knuckles. It's not quite holding hands, but it's somehow one step better - full of suggestion that sets Kara buzzing.
Kara doesn't get to feel casual touch very often. Not like this, not - flirting, that's the only word for the way Imra's fingers flutter across Kara's skin to send little shivers all the way up her arm. She loves being played with like this, and gosh is Imra ever good at it.
Kara's not even looking at the lights anymore. Mostly she's grinning down at her shoes, trying to make sure they're still on the ground. "Thank you," Imra says. Her voice is so sweet that Kara can't resist meeting her eyes.
"For what?"
Imra frowns, her expression gentle with affectionate confusion. "For a lovely night, of course."
"Oh," Kara says. She turns a little, wanting to ask Imra more. Just as she moves to the side Imra rises up onto her toes, and somehow they turn toward each other at the same time.
Just in time for Imra to press a kiss to the corner of Kara's mouth.
Imra's lips are soft - much softer than Kara had imagined. And she has imagined this; an idle daydream that she's been holding in the most secret parts of her heart, afraid to examine it too closely. But now that it's happening it feels like the most wonderful thing; better than crispy dumplings or strawberry ice cream, almost as good as flying. It feels like soft lips and the smell of Imra's hair and one of Imra's hands finally lacing fingers with Kara's. It escalates as they kiss, until every part of Kara feeling like it's vibrating, and she's warm and tingly all over.
"Sorry," Imra whispers. Kara doesn't know how to answer to that so she kisses Imra again, square on the lips.
Imra sighs into her this time, her free hand coming up to Kara's chin. Her thumb is stroking Kara gently, running across the angle of her jaw and Kara didn't realize until just this minute how much she'd like the feel of that.
They break apart after a long moment, after Kara's kissed Imra so thoroughly that Imra's red-cheeked and a little starry-eyed. "Perhaps I'm not sorry," Imra whispers.
Kara squeezes Imra's hand, tugging her closer. "Good," she says. "I'm not sorry, either."