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It’s not very often when National City’s most famous non-Super has the opportunity to take in the morning skies without anxiety tugging at the back of her mind. There tends to be more days than not when the sheer weight of responsibility becomes too much for the young Luthor and she wishes she could just succumb to the expectations of turning out to be just like her deranged family. For that reason alone, on the rare occasion that a clearing in her schedule presents itself, she promises herself that she will never pass up the simplicity of relaxation and the opportunity to chase those thoughts away and remain a force for good.
It’s a Wednesday morning when she finds herself standing in the middle of the room staring out at skies that are grey yet familiar while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The immaculate boardroom bun has been set free, making way for dark and wavy tendrils to fall against her pale shoulders. The trademark blood-red lipstick is nowhere to be seen, and Lena can just be Lena instead of the cutthroat Luthor that everyone is hesitant to trust. Deciding to spend the day catching up on the latest book she purchased, she steps out on to her balcony and climbs on to the loveseat with her throw blanket and black coffee in tow. Sighing in content she begins to lose herself in the world of fiction.
An hour and half later, she looks up when the knob on her loft door begins making a creaking noise. Like a deer caught in the headlights, there stands Lillian Luthor in all of her conniving glory. When Lena meets her gaze, Lillian has the decency to offer her a smile.
“Mother, to what do I owe this inconvenience?”
“Honestly Lena, I disappear to let the Daxamite dust, or rather the lead, settle, and I come back to news that once again you’re bringing shame and disappointment to the Luthor name. James Olsen, truly, you’ve outdone yourself this time...” Lillian remarks.
Lena blinks in rapid succession, not having expected that news to have gotten out so quickly.
“I suppose your minions have ways of communicating with you in the depths of hell from which you’ve emerged?” Lena retorts.
“No need for the hostility dear daughter of mine. I’m concerned that the amount of blows to your head have caused a permanent alteration to your brain function. Have you forgotten that he is the best friend of the Super that sent our Lex on a downward spiral?”
“Lex is responsible for his own demise,” she replies.
“Lena, is it not enough that you’ve decided to befriend that overtly homosexual cousin of Superman? The girl of steel. Every time I turn around there is a new photo of that lipstick lesbian hovering around the L-Corp balcony making moon eyes at you,” Lillian deadpans.
Lena chokes on her coffee and sputters while trying to form a coherent thought. She looks up at her adopted mother who proudly wears a smug grin on her face.
“Just as I suspected. Your gay panic is nothing short of amusing. Why then have I received word that you were seen canoodling James? The same James moonlighting as that can of tin calling himself the Guardian. If you want to date someone with a hero complex, you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Supergirl, or should I say Kara Danvers, is right there! We have a reputation to uphold! We are Luthor’s after all,” she trails off.
This was not the way she had imagined her morning playing out. She envisioned peace and quiet, books and coffee, skies as dark as her soul— but this? Being called out on her deepest desires? Lillian confirming that they both knew of James and Kara’s dual identities? No, it definitely wasn’t part of her plans.
“Moon eyes, Lena...” the older woman repeated as she turned on her heels to leave before raising her eyebrows and awaiting a response.
“Oh fuck off already!”
“I don’t approve of your choices, but steel is stronger than tin, FYI” and with that the door shut behind her leaving a bewildered Lena to contemplate Lillian’s words.