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She was led into an office and left alone with a cup of lukewarm coffee for nearly fifteen minutes before the door opened to reveal Maggie Sawyer.
Lena couldn’t exactly help her eye-roll.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, detective, but I was under the impression your job involved investigating aliens in National City, not just Luthors.”
“Brr,” Maggie said, grinning as she sat down in the seat next to Lena. “You know, I’ve heard of the world famous icy Luthor charm, but damn if those descriptions don’t do you justice.” She leaned back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest, still grinning—much to Lena’s annoyance.
“What are you doing here?”
“You may find this hard to believe, but I’m here for you.”
“Funny, I do find that hard to believe,” Lena said, leaning back as well. “Can you tell me what’s going on at least?”
To Maggie’s credit, she looked conflicted for a moment, like she was actually debating on telling Lena the truth.
“I can tell you that I really want to be here to see the look on your face,” she finally said, shrugging a little. “And also because I promised my friend who works for social services that I wouldn’t leave her alone with you.”
“Social services? Why would—”
She was interrupted when the door opened again, a small woman with short hair entering the office with a vaguely worried expression on her face. It was obvious she was the friend Maggie had mentioned, if the tiny smile Maggie gave her was any indication. Lena watched her settle into the only empty seat left—across the table from Lena and Maggie—and clasped her hands together, sitting up straight and meeting Lena in the eye.
“Ms. Luthor,” she began, her voice gruffer than Lena expected. “My name is Sarah Wilkins. I work with Child Protective Services. I’m here to speak with you about Ally.”
Lena blinked, not following at all.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Alexandra Peters, your niece.”
The laugh that escaped her wasn’t her fault at all, though judging by the look on Maggie’s face, the wince and then frown, it likely wasn’t appropriate. Thoughts of this being one grand joke were immediately replaced by the nagging suspicion that her life would be upturned once again by something Lex had done.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I don’t have a niece. You see, my brother is in maximum security, and his chances of having a child are, well, low.”
Maggie and Sarah exchanged a long look and Lena shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Ally is six months away from her second birthday, Ms. Luthor. She was born before your brother was put away.” Or, Sarah didn’t say, Lex had plenty of time to have a child. Rather than speak, Lena continued to stare at Sarah, waiting for her to get to the point. “About a month ago, Ally’s mother, a Gwen Peters, died in a car accident—”
“Was it…?” Lena trailed off, unable to even finish the thought. To her shock, Sarah seemed to understand, her eyes even softening.
“It seems to have been just an accident. A tragic one, of course, but an accident all the same.” She stressed it enough that Lena found herself believing her. “Ally was placed in the care of her maternal grandparents, but CPS has recently discovered…well, to put it bluntly, the Peters are not fit to raise a young child. Which is where you come in.” She blinked, pausing long enough to needlessly straighten her blazer and to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “In Ms. Peters’ Will, in the event that her parents are unable to care for her daughter, she names you as Ally’s guardian.”
“I don’t even know Gwen Peters,” Lena protested immediately, shaking her head.
“That’s not actually true,” Maggie interrupted, placing a hand on Lena’s shoulder briefly. “You might not remember her, but she apparently worked with you in R&D at LuthorCorp for nearly two years before you began taking over your brother’s responsibilities after your father passed away.”
“And more to the point, Ms. Peters was quite adamant that Ally remained with family in the event of her death. And Ms. Luthor, you’re all the family Ally has left.”
Lena gaped at the two woman—at Sarah’s calm expression and Maggie’s suddenly concerned one—and shook her head again.
“I’m—no. How do we even know she’s actually Lex’s daughter? And why would—was the woman mad, wanting a Luthor raising her child?”
Sarah and Maggie exchanged another look and this time Lena could read the sadness in Maggie’s eyes, the reluctance in Sarah’s.
“Let me put it this way, Ms. Luthor. Without you, Ally will find herself in foster care. Is that something you want for your niece?”
(She thought about her own upbringing, raised amongst a father who paid her very little attention, a mother who hated her, and a brother who eventually left her. She thought about her loneliness, her ineptitude with anything relating to emotions, and the fact that everything she touched slowly wasted away.
But most of all, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Kara’s, she thought about how she could never leave family behind—even a niece she hadn’t known about fifteen minutes ago, a niece she hadn’t even imagined could exist.)
“No,” she said, voice not shaking despite the trembling of her hands. “So? What do I have to sign?”
x
“You know, I looked her up,” Lena called out, childproofing the last of her cabinets, smiling slightly at her finished work.
“Looked who up?” Kara asked from where she sat on the ground, surrounded by all sorts of screws and pieces of furniture, an adorable crease between her brows as she studied the instructions for the crib. “By the way, Lena, I’m ninety percent positive that there’s at least three pieces missing.”
“Gwen Peters,” Lena said shortly, walking over to Kara and studying the crib. “I’m ninety percent sure you attached the head to the wrong piece.”
“Oh for the love of—” Kara cut herself off, unscrewing all her hard work and resigning herself to starting from the beginning. “So? What did you learn about Gwen Peters?”
“She was smart. It’s no wonder Lex liked her enough to…” She trailed off, not quite sure what she was trying to say. Kara kept fiddling with the two pieces she had in her hands until she realized that Lena had gone silent, looking up worriedly. Whatever she saw on Lena’s face spurred her into action; in one quick movement, she’d abandoned the crib entirely and was on her feet, approaching Lena slowly (as if she didn’t want to spook her).
“You did the right thing, Lena,” Kara said softly, and Lena nearly laughed, wondering how on Earth Kara had understood what she was actually trying to say (how Kara had heard the I can’t raise a kid, don’t you think Ally deserves better, what am I doing? in between the admiration she felt for Gwen Peters and the reignited anger she felt for Lex). “And it’s not as if you’re going to be doing any of this alone.”
“Sorry?”
“What? You thought I’d let you deal with something this big by yourself?” Kara rolled her eyes and reached out to squeeze Lena’s hand before turning on her heel and crouching back down next to the mangled remains of the crib. “Maggie claims she’s great with kids, and Alex is a doctor, and James can soothe any baby it’s practically magic I’ve seen it, and not to brag but Winn and I are great babysitters, we only lost Carter for an hour tops—”
“—you lost a child?” Lena tried to interrupt, but Kara was on a roll and didn’t seem to be listening at all.
“—so really, between all of us, Ally won’t even have time to feel lonely.”
(She talked as if they’d all be around when Ally was much older, when she knew enough about her family—her father—to feel sad.
Kara talked as if she and her sister and her friends were accepting responsibility for Lena’s niece as well, and it was overwhelming.)
“Kara…you can’t—I don’t know how much Maggie or your sister would appreciate being dragged into this mess,” Lena said, staring at Kara’s back, clenching her hands into fists in order to hide their shakiness.
Kara waved her off without even turning to look at her.
“Well, you’re my friend,” she said easily, picking up one of the pieces of wood and studying it before dropping it back down. “And by extension, my friends are your friends. And friends help out.” She turned her head, gracing Lena with a small smile. “I’ve said ‘friend’ too many times, but the point is you’re not in this alone, Lena. And if I have to spend all night figuring this crib out for you to accept it, then I’ll do just that.”
Lena laughed, recognizing a lost cause when she saw one, and crossed over to sit down next to Kara, hands finally unclenching.
“You know, I gave you the easy job.”
“The easy job, says the engineer,” Kara huffed in mock annoyance. “Fine then, show me how it’s done.”
x
“She sort of looks like him,” Lena said, head tilted to the side as she studied the slumbering Ally. They’d brought her home—and that phrase in and of itself boggled Lena’s mind, she brought her niece to her home, two words she never thought she’d think in relation to herself—earlier that morning, all the paperwork finished, Maggie’s friend Sarah long gone. “Doesn’t she?”
“I was going to say she looks like you,” Maggie called from the kitchen, busy digging through Lena’s fridge, searching for something to eat. Lena wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the familiarity Maggie presumed, but she didn’t comment on it. Even if it was unnerving, it was nice. “The dark hair, the pretty eyes. She’ll end up with that strong Luthor jaw too, just you wait.”
“You think I have pretty eyes, Sawyer?” Lena asked, focusing on only a single part of Maggie’s comment, blinking and turning to look at the detective. Someone snorted indignantly in the living room, where Kara and Alex were arguing in whispers over how to use a camera James had given Lena earlier in the week (calling it a peace offering, an apology, a gift he’d thought she could use what with having a child in her life), and Lena found herself smiling.
“I’m right here, Maggie,” Alex deadpanned, though judging from the way she was looking at Kara, she hadn’t been the one to snort. “And everyone knows you have pretty eyes,” Alex continued, not looking away from her sister. “Wasn’t there an article about it in the last issue of CatCo Magazine? Kara?” she prompted when Kara seemed much more interested in the camera than in the conversations around her.
“Who knows really? Maybe. Laurie might have pitched it. She might have spent over a day looking at photos of Lena, asking for everyone’s opinion for which picture showed off her eyes the most. I might have accidentally—” Kara stopped suddenly, clearing her throat and looking up, eyes flitting over Lena’s face briefly before throwing Alex and Maggie a dirty look—one that Lena hadn’t really known Kara was capable of making. “I mean, I was on assignment. Reporting the news. Doing my job. You know…writing.”
“Are you having a stroke, Kara?” Maggie asked casually, abandoning her search for food.
“She doesn’t look like him,” Alex informed Lena, ignoring her sister and girlfriend entirely. Sparing her sister an odd glance, as if silently promising a future (and private) conversation, Alex focused her attention on Lena. “She just looks like a kid. Because that’s what she is, Lena.”
(And Lena knew what Alex was actually trying to say, even if she didn’t know the elder Danvers as well as Kara, even if she was sometimes slightly intimidated by Alex. She knew that she was telling her not to worry, telling her to forget the nature versus nurture debate, telling her to remember that Ally was just a child who needed a loving family, that the sins of the father did not extend to Ally.
She was telling Lena to relax, that she could do this, and Lena marveled at the fact that Alex could say so much in so few words. She thought it might have been a sibling thing—or maybe just an Alex thing.)
“You’re right,” Lena whispered, eyes falling to Ally again, still slumbering peacefully in the crib Lena had suggested they leave out in the open where she could always see it, at least for a while (a part of her still thinking this was just a dream and she’d wake up and find she’d imagined the whole thing). “She’s just a kid.”
She reached down to gently smooth back some of Ally’s dark, curly hair, and without thought, warning, or preparation, Lena Luthor promptly fell in love with her niece.
x
She wasn’t going to call Kara, she told herself determinedly, huffing a breath and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she took in her niece’s red face. This was okay, this was manageable, she did not need Kara. The fact that Ally had finally stopped crying gave a little bit more credence to her argument, but her soaked clothes and disaster zone of a bathroom spoke otherwise. But Lena did not need Kara.
At least, she didn’t think so.
“Come on, Ally,” she practically begged, dropping to her knees next to the bathtub and looking at her niece carefully. “You need a bath.”
Ally, standing shakily next to the bathtub, glared—yes, glared—at Lena, her blue eyes a little bit too fiery for Lena’s comfort.
“No,” she said resolutely, accentuating her point with a firm shake of her head.
It was undeniably frustrating and inconveniently endearing.
(In the past week, Lena had learned a great deal about her niece, first and foremost being that she inherited her parents’ intelligence, something Lena wasn’t sure she was entirely glad for yet. For example, though Ally didn’t speak more than a dozen or so words, it was always quite clear she understood everything that was said and done around her. She couldn’t confront Lena, tell her she knew that Lena wasn’t her mother—that she wasn’t even familiar—but she managed to convey those feelings by refusing simple tasks, like bath time, glaring at her food suspiciously, refusing to sleep until she literally passed out from sheer exhaustion.
In fact, most times it was only Kara who could coax Ally into doing anything—changing, bathing, sleeping, eating, it didn’t matter. Kara claimed it was because she just had ‘one of those faces’ but Lena wondered if her niece felt the same thing she had felt the day she first met Kara: an inexplicable pull, an undeniable trust.
Most obvious, however, was that Ally was full to the brim with what Maggie liked to call ‘the charming Luthor stubbornness’ something Lena found less and less charming every day.)
“Ally, please.”
“No,” her niece repeated, eyes actually narrowing.
(She’d been reading extensively about children and development and all the ins and outs of raising a child that wasn’t even yet two. She knew she had to be firm, knew that children took advantage of leniency, knew that she had to set boundaries as the adult. And yet…
She remembered her own harsh upbringing, the cold glances from nannies, the disinterest from Lionel, the outright aggression at times from Lillian. She remembered not feeling wanted or liked or even tolerated, and though she knew she had to be harder on Ally—put her foot down, so to speak—she just didn’t have the heart, even if she knew it wouldn’t be the same, that she’d never go too far.
She didn’t want to be a Luthor with her, even accidentally—even just out of habit. She didn’t want her to have the same childhood Lena suffered through.)
“What if I told you a story?”
(It was a last ditch effort, she didn’t think Ally would go for it.
Lena resigned herself to calling Kara yet again.)
Just as Lena made to get up, reaching for her phone, Ally held up her arms, finally acquiescing to her bath, allowing Lena to pick her up and place her in the tub. And Lena, woefully ill prepared for an impromptu story-time, cleared her throat and began to talk about the one thing she knew Ally would love—a tale about Supergirl.
By the end of bath-time, as Lena was drying off her niece, she earned the one thing only Kara had managed to coax out of Ally thus far: a smile.
x
She was in a meeting when it happened, arguing with some arrogant, narrow-minded old man who believed he knew what was best for hercompany. She was in a meeting, one she told Jess not to interrupt under any circumstances (wanting to put the old man in his place, needing the time and the privacy to do so), one she hadn’t expected to drag on quite as long as it did.
She was in a meeting when Ally was rushed to the hospital.
(Later, after she waved away all the apologies from the woman who ran the ridiculously expensive daycare, after she assured Jess she was right to contact Kara, after the doctor had smiled at Lena and swore up and down that Ally was fine—“She’s a child, Ms. Luthor, this sort of comes with the territory of being a parent”—and Alex and given Lena a sympathetic look, Lena collapsed in one of the uncomfortable hospital room chairs, head in her hands, body trembling.
She was in a meeting, she was rolling her eyes at the words of an insignificant man while her niece was struggling to breathe—because Lenahadn’t known Ally was allergic to peanuts.)
“How’re you holding up?” It was Kara, Lena could tell by the sensible shoes that were suddenly in her line of sight, and judging from the smell of coffee that wafted towards her, Kara had been successful in her quest for what she called a ‘pick me up.’ After several seconds of silence, Kara let out a soft sigh and knelt down, placing the coffee cup on the ground and then using the tips of her fingers to gently coax Lena to look at her. “Lena, it’s okay.”
“Is it?” she snapped, regret flooding through her immediately when Kara’s eyes flashed with hurt for an instant before she managed to mask it. “Do you know what could have—” Lena began, tone considerably softer, “—she could’ve…Kara, she could’ve—”
“—she’s fine,” Kara said gently, taking Lena’s hands into her own, squeezing a little, as if to ground Lena to the moment. “She’s been laughing at Maggie’s faces.”
It was Kara’s soft voice, the sturdiness of her presence, the fact that she could still somewhat hear Ally’s giggles as Maggie continued to make faces, Alex watching the whole thing clearly torn between amusement and fondness, that Lena found herself confessing everything to Kara.
“She deserves better than me,” Lena said, voice cracking, the truth of her words sending a stab of pain through her chest. Because it was true but oh she didn’t want it to be. “She deserves a family like yours. Something normal Maggie or Alex could give her. With me—with me she’ll always be a Luthor.” Lena thought about nights waiting up for her father to return home, of falling asleep in her father’s study, tucked in his leather chair and breathing in the smell of tobacco. She thought about afternoons meant to be spent with Lillian that she just spent alone, the days she waited for Lex to call when he went off to college and left her behind. She thought about how she’d learned—barely even a teenager—that the best way to gain her father’s attention was to drag herself to LuthorCorp every afternoon after school and watch him work, eventually wandering off to R&D when Lionel barely acknowledged her presence. “She’ll end up like me, Kara. How could I do that to her? How could I let her become like me?”
Kara leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss to Lena’s forehead.
“Ally could do a lot worse than become like you,” Kara whispered against her skin, not moving away, the heat of her hands finally—finally—beginning to warm Lena’s.
“Kara,” Lena chastised, not really in the mood for false platitudes, but she came off sounding less peeved and more amused, because Kara chuckled and pressed another kiss to Lena’s forehead.
“Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re right,” Kara began slowly. “We don’t want her like you. We don’t want her to grow up kind or generous, funny or intelligent. I especially don’t want her to be health conscious like you, for her to care about others, for her to be so willing to love—to be so good, in spite of everything terrible that’s happened.” Kara pulled back a little, just enough that Lena could meet her blue, blue eyes, a smile on her lips.
“She would be better off with a real family,” Lena argued.
“I will always be grateful for the Danvers, Lena,” Kara said, releasing Lena’s hands and cupping her cheeks instead. “I love them for taking me in, for giving me so much love, for being my family—for accepting me despite everything I put them through. But,” Kara’s smile turned sad, her thumbs wiping gently under Lena’s eyes, erasing the evidence of Lena’s tears, “I will always be heartbroken and will never understand why my own family—all I had left—sent me away.” The comment was loaded, heavy with untold truths, and though Lena burned to ask—knew that Kara would tell her anything in that moment—she just swallowed, attempting and failing to shake her head. “Don’t give up on her, Lena,” Kara whispered, sounding a little faraway, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, “she needs you, and she’s too young to know it yet, but she’ll want you, too.”
“And you?”
(Two words, that was all Lena was capable of saying. Two words, and yet Kara understood anyway.)
“She’ll always have me. And so will you.” She wiped at Lena’s cheeks once more with the pads of her thumbs then smoothly stood up, smiling down at Lena with her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. “Your coffee got cold,” she informed Lena simply, gesturing to the cup that was left forgotten on the ground. “It’s probably a good thing, Alex said it was really bad.” She held out a hand. “Come on, I know a great café not even five minutes away from here. We can even get Maggie a bagel.”
“But—”
“Alex and Maggie are hovering, Ally’s perfectly safe. Come on,” she repeated. “let’s go for a walk.”
And to Lena’s ultimate surprise, she found herself taking Kara’s hand, accepting the tacit offer of help.
x
“So, Luthor,” Alex said cheerfully, licking her fingers clean of chocolate icing, “when did you and my sister start dating?”
Lena very nearly dropped the eggs in her hand, resulting in a moment of stupid juggling that had Ally pausing her search for grapes in her fruit salad long enough to giggle.
“I’m—what—we’re not dating,” Lena said, putting the eggs aside and helping Ally out by swapping her fruit salad with a small bowl of grapes. She seemed terribly pleased by the turn of events, clapping her hands together and shouting wape—what Lena assumed was Ally’s attempt at saying grape.
“Yeah, that’s what Kara said too. But with more stuttering. And blushing.” Alex grinned widely. “And head ducking, which means she’s hiding something.” She pulled the chocolate icing towards herself, clearly intending to get another taste, but Lena’s face must’ve showed her disgust more clearly than she thought, because Alex sighed and wiped her hands on a towel in defeat, abandoning the icing entirely. “Fine,” she said, choosing embarrassing Lena over sampling everything in sight. “So you’re not dating. Do you want to be?”
“Why are you here, Alex?”
“Seriously? I offer to help bake Ally’s birthday cake and that’s how you treat me? I’m hurt,” she said, going as far as to place her hand over her heart in mock-distress.
Before Lena could bother to point out that Alex hadn’t helped at all, Ally threw her now empty bowl of grapes towards Lena.
“More wapes!” she demanded, making Alex laugh.
“No more grapes for you,” Lena said, knowing her stern voice was off because Alex just laughed again. She turned around to check the oven—still rather unfamiliar with baking despite practicing as much as she could over the last few months—unsurprised to see Ally snacking on more fruit the second she turned back. “Seriously?” she asked Alex, raising an eyebrow.
“In her defense, she said wapes, which could mean anything, really.”
“You’re spoiling her,” Lena said flatly, though she couldn’t help her smile as Ally happily searched through her grapes, picking out the biggest ones and popping them into her mouth. “I’ll blame you if she becomes an intolerable teenager.”
“Brr,” Alex said, mimicking Maggie’s teasing—something that had, unfortunately for Lena, caught on in the past several months—and grinning. “Isn’t that right, Ally?” Alex said cheerfully, stealing one of Ally’s grapes, something that had Ally’s mouth dropping open in shock.
“No!” Ally said, eyebrows rising and hands flying, reminding Lena so much of Lex in that moment that she thought her heart would stop. For a moment—a brief second—Lena was almost sure her older brother would pop his head out of the guest room, gesticulating wildly as he excitedly told Lena about his latest experiments, begging her to shut off her music for just a moment so that he could concentrate. She was so busy feeling overwhelmed by Lex’s sudden non-physical presence that she nearly missed Ally turning to her, looking a little bit betrayed. “Mommy, say no!”
“Did she—?” Alex started.
“No, no she can’t have,” Lena finished, eyes wide. She was barely aware of Alex calling Kara—telling her to put out the fire as quickly as she could—and only blinked blankly when Ally repeated the word that put Lena in this state in the first place.
“Mommy!” Ally said, trying to get Lena’s attention. “Mommy!”
x
Ally’s birthday party—something Maggie had rolled her eyes at, wondering what the point of throwing a two year old a party even was—had devolved into an impromptu comfort session, James putting his ability to soothe any child to good use while Lena sat on the ground, back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of her. Someone, likely Winn, had brought her cake earlier, but it sat forgotten as the minutes turned into hours of silence.
“You want to talk about it?” Kara asked, speaking for the first time since she arrived—still covered in soot from her fire rescue—and slid down the wall to sit next to Lena, cape and boots looking rather out of place in Lena’s apartment. She was being so patient, so good, and to be perfectly frank, Lena couldn’t deal with it.
“No,” she snapped. “I’m not her mother,” she immediately added.
“I know that.”
“Why would—why are—how are you so calm?” Lena suddenly felt the inexplicable need to cry. And Luthors…Luthors did not cry.
“She didn’t call me her mom,” Kara pointed out unhelpfully, chuckling when Lena could do nothing but groan.
“This is serious, Kara. Why would she think I’m her mother?”
As one, their eyes shifted towards the living room, where James was sitting with Ally in his lap, the two of them seemingly completely entranced with whatever was playing on the television. Winn was on his phone, sneaking not-so-subtle glances at James and Ally every few seconds, not-so-subtly taking photos. Not for the first time, Lena marveled at how normal it all felt, having friends at her apartment—having her niece giggle and play with James Olsen’s camera, James bravely hiding his anxiety as a two year old manhandled expensive equipment—talking, laughing, eating, generally enjoying each other’s company.
Six months she had this, the support, the friendship, the knowledge that she had people she could count on—that Allycould count on, years down the line—and it was only now, with Kara’s shoulder brushing her own and Alex and Maggie arguing over proper tackling procedures (which Lena hadn’t been aware existed), that she finally, finally, believed she wasn’t in this alone.
As soon as that thought registered, she felt calmer.
This would be okay. She’d get through this—with everyone at her side.
“For the last six months,” Kara began slowly, making Lena turn to her in surprise, unsure how to feel about the careful way she was measuring her words as she spoke, “you’ve been everything to Ally. It’s natural that she’d become attached to you. I became attached to Eliza.”
“Did you ever call her mom?”
“Well, no. But I was also much older.” She bit her lip, dragging her gaze away from James and Ally and looking and Lena instead, eyes full of a sadness that had only ever been hinted at before. She smiled, but it only served to make her seem more broken. “I was…I was really hard on Eliza and Jeremiah,” she explained softly. “I felt guilty that I was able to be happy with them. That they could make me smile and feel as if I was home. I worried—I still worry, sometimes,” she amended, laughing mirthlessly. “I worry that if I’m not careful I’ll forget about Krypton, that the love I feel for Eliza will replace what I feel for my own mother.” She knocked her shoulder gently against Lena’s, ducking her head as if she was trying to hide the extent of what she was feeling. “I lashed out at Eliza. Especially in high school, when she had to give me those talks usually reserved for your own mother. But even though I’ve never called her my mother, she’s been my mom in more ways than one.”
“But letting Ally think I’m her mother—she’ll find out the truth eventually. Should I lie until then? Should I try to tell her the truth?”
Kara laughed in response, taking Lena’s hand in her own.
“She’s too young to worry about all that anyway. That’s a problem for future us,” she said with a grin. “Right now we just need to worry about potty training. I called Eliza about it, she mostly just laughed, so I assume it’s not fun.”
Lena stared at Kara fondly for a moment, thinking of her use of the words usand we, the fact that she reached out to her adoptive mother for help, and she thought her heart might stutter right out of her chest.
“I think, when she’s old enough, I’ll ask her if she wants to be a Luthor. Alexandra Peters Luthor, it’s a good name.”
“The best,” Kara agreed immediately, smiling when Lena dropped her head onto her shoulder, leaning heavily against Kara’s soot covered suit. “I think I smell like smoke,” she added when Lena breathed her in, took in her warmth.
Lena closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of Kara’s neck.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, voice slightly muffled. “I think you’re perfect.”
It wasn’t much of a surprise that Kara just laughed, hearing Lena’s tacit confession. And it wasn’t much of a surprise when she squeezed Lena’s hand reassuringly in response, wordlessly letting her know she felt the same way.