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Things have been awkward to say the least.
Lena would know. Her life has been a lesson in awkward encounters and situations that would make her gleefully crawl through a sewer pipe if it meant an escape.
The issue here is that awkward has never been a word she used to describe her interactions with Kara. Sure, Kara herself has been awkward in her flustered, dorky way. But the circumstances themselves between the pair have never quite checked that box.
And even though it has now, it’s far from the usual instances of stilted conversations and forced smiles that Lena has experienced. As a result, she doesn’t quite know what to do. How to fix it. If it can be fixed.
So she does what she can do, what the super friends have graciously allowed her to do. She rights the wrongs that she can, helping to track down Lex and Leviathan, thwarting the evil, world-dominating deeds they had in mind for her project. Rescuing Kara from her ill-fated trip to the Phantom Zone.
Truthfully, Lena had assumed that once that mission was complete, she would be shown out the door. Instead, the opposite had happened. Room wasn’t made for her, this space already existed, waiting for her to occupy it.
Still, she feels off-kilter because things with Kara are just too awkward and she doesn’t know how to change that. Doesn’t even know if it’s something Kara wants to change. The blonde’s interactions with her are polite, ever respectful, but Lena can’t seem to keep her gaze at all.
Kara never seems fully present whenever they do talk. She always swallows thickly, the tendons in her neck always taut, the set of her jaw clenched tight and Lena’s not sure what to do with any of that.
She’s not sure if it’s outward reluctance or if Kara is just feeling the same way. If Kara desperately wants to mend what’s broken but just doesn’t know how. Where to begin. What to start with.
Because it wasn’t just Lex’s malicious unveiling of the truth that caused things to shatter. The cracks were there before, not nearly as superficial as they had seemed. There was this unease, this unmitigated tension between Supergirl and Lena that always carried over into Kara and Lena.
Lena couldn’t put her finger on it at the moment, or rather didn’t want to, because to do that would mean accepting the fact that Kara was a liar. And that was something she did not want to do. Lex took that decision out of her hands like the manipulative bastard that he is and now she’s here, stuck in some sort of purgatory with no way of escaping.
She’s past the point of anger, the desire for revenge no longer eating away at her soul. Forgiveness has been granted—on both sides—but it still feels so far from the usual.
Lena sighs, gaze lost on the buildings as she zips by. Her driver, Frank, narrowly avoids a collision with the car ahead when it merges into their lane unexpectedly. She lurches forward, catching herself with a hand on the back of the driver’s seat. Frank flashes her an apologetic look through the rearview mirror that she simply waves off.
She needs a distraction so she pulls out her tablet and starts going over the upgrades to Kara’s super suit that she designed during another sleepless night. Though Lex was out of the picture, Supergirl had no shortage of enemies and Lena will be damned if National City’s super-powered sweetheart dies on her watch (also, she’s constantly thinking about Kara anyway so she may as well channel some of that into something productive and useful).
She doesn’t look up from her tablet when Frank opens the car door and after approximately twelve steps she regrets it tremendously. She’s felt pain before, obviously, physical or otherwise. There have been countless attempts on her life, so frequent they seem to be scheduled by some meticulous planner. Most of the time those have only resulted in tiny gashes and scrapes, poison that didn’t really stick, kidnappers who saw the immense value in keeping her alive and she emerged relatively unscathed.
Sure, those situations could have turned into something far less benign but Kara has always swooped in, snatching her clean out of the clutches of danger and crushing her against a broad chest instead, leading to some emotional devastation on Lena’s part.
This year in particular has been full of close calls, of Kara all handsome and heroic in full Super regalia and hands triggered for the automatic bridal carry Lena has not seen her use with anyone else.
Lena has walked away from danger so many times, Lex came back from the dead, Lillian always managed to slither away unnoticed. Forgive her if she seriously starts to consider that Twinkies, cockroaches and Luthors will be the only things left after the apocalypse.
What Lena never gave any consideration to is this: that there is a sidewalk grate just outside the Tower.
It’s not one of those really long ones, it’s only about a foot in length. The city put it in after numerous complaints about the poor drainage during heavy rainfall that always turned the front of the building into a shallow swimming pool. Lena herself rubbed elbows with the mayor to get this done quickly.
Problem? Lena didn’t know that they’d finish putting it in today. Which is why Lena blindly strutted out of her Rolls-Royce Phantom, mind distracted with the latest concept for Kara’s anti-kryptonite suit.
She doesn’t see the fucking grate and her heel just descends on its own accord, her ankle twists unnaturally and there’s a sickening crunch all too foreboding.
Lena is seeing stars.
It’s moments like this she loathes her lack of athleticism. It’s moments like this she knows Alex will unsubtly point to the red-bottom Louboutin’s she is currently wearing. It’s moments like this Kara appears seemingly from nowhere, frantic hands catching Lena before her head kisses the concrete.
“Lena,” she says, panic lacing each syllable of her name. “Are you okay? What happened?” Her grip tightens a little, firm but pleasing. It’s almost more dizzying than the searing pain that’s shooting up her left leg because lately, even an accidental brushing of hands births an overlapping string of apologies.
Lena doesn’t answer, can’t really, her tongue is wedged between the clamp of her teeth in a futile effort to hold back all the colourful word choices she has for how not okay she really is and how dumb it is of Kara to even fucking ask.
Thankfully, Kara’s brain seems to catch up to the current events and her eyes narrow on Lena’s ankle. She squints, probably activating her x-ray vision, before gathering Lena into her arms quickly but gently. Lena can’t stop her hands from acting on muscle memory alone as they lock around Kara’s strong shoulders and her head rests against her chest.
Kara turns her head and Lena might be somewhat delirious from all the pain but she’s certain there’s just the barest hint of lips brushing against her forehead as foreign words are whispered over her skin.
“Alex!” Kara yells as soon as she sets foot into the Tower. Alex appears immediately as though summoned by the urgency in Kara’s voice, eyes widening in concern when she spots Lena. Quickly, she ushers them into the med bay Lena helped redesign and equip with custom-made machinery better able to handle the unique physiology of their rag-tag team.
“Put her down here,” Alex orders once she realizes Kara still hasn’t made a move to put Lena down. Even with some direction now, Kara hesitates a little before carefully placing Lena on the examination table. If Alex notices, she doesn’t acknowledge it and God knows Lena won’t.
“Are you okay?” Kara asks again, hovering nearby anxiously as if Lena is in some sort of imminent danger. Her nervous energy is making Lena feel things she rather not, so much so that she’d rather feel the pain of her broken ankle times a hundred.
“I’m fine,” Lena insists, a growl really, because Kara has asked this damn question again when the answer must be glaringly obvious.
“She is fine,” Alex affirms and all it does is earn another huff from Kara, almost as though she’s questioning her sister’s medical aptitude. Alex’s brow lifts, slightly affronted so she adds, “it’s just a broken ankle,” then she shifts her gaze back to Lena and the stiletto perched on the table next to her, “caused by a lack of sensible footwear.”
Lena glares. She knows she won’t live this down. Alex has been nagging her for months since she’s rejoined the super friends to wear proper shoes. Like what does that even mean anyway? How is it not the fucking grates’ fault for showing up unannounced?
“It looks bad,” Kara says, brow furrowed, almost like she’s scowling at Lena’s injury. Believe her, the swollen grapefruit where her ankle used to be is throbbing like a motherfucker, but Lena doesn't want to pile on to the crinkles already etching into Kara’s worried expression.
“Let’s just take a closer look,” Alex says and Lena nods impatiently, waiting for the painkillers to finally intercept her overactive neuroreceptors.
Alex is methodical in her examination and Lena being Lena, still insists on having her tablet so she can scribble down the changes to the designs that came to mind before that grate decided to take down the last Luthor. Alex fits the traditional white cast on with practiced ease and declares the break to be clean and unlikely to manifest into anything more serious.
Lena isn’t surprised by any of it, she just hums distractedly. Kara lets out a puff of relief and nods along, deep in thought. What does grip Lena’s prompt and undivided attention is this, frankly, outlandish statement:
“…it’ll take about six to eight weeks to fully heal and then—”
Lena’s head snaps up at an alarming speed and now there’s a crick in her neck. “I’m sorry, how long did you say I’m going to be in this…thing?” she asks, looking at the cast with more disdain than what’s called for.
“Six to eight weeks,” Alex repeats as if it’s perfectly reasonable and sure, it probably is. For normal people.
“Six weeks?” Lena scoffs, sea glass eyes wide and incredulous. She was rooting for Alex and her medical skills up until this point. Now she wants Dr. Khan’s opinion.
Alex turns away from the x-rays and towards her, face trying to be sympathetic. “I mean, it’s possible to cut that time down to five, maybe four weeks, if—and I cannot stress this enough— you keep your weight off it, take it easy. Don’t do anything to irritate it.” She doesn’t say the word stupid but Lena hears it all the same.
Lena sighs dramatically, like she’s just been handed the worst news of her life. Has Alex lost her mind? She can’t do four weeks (a far too long minimum) off her feet. She has a company to turn around (again) and a whole host of old white men waiting for her to fail. Not to mention assassins flying at her left and right.
Lena Luthor doesn’t do take it easy.
“Fine,” Lena says, not in true agreement but just so Alex will stop looking at her like that.
“Here.” Alex hands over a white paper bag with pain meds and Lena’s dark mood brightens just a tad. “Take a blue one twice a day. That will help with the inflammation. Take the white one every four to six hours for the pain. Double the dose only if you need to. Make sure to ice it in fifteen minute intervals and please keep it elevated. It will help with the swelling.”
“Got it,” Kara says with a quick nod and Lena gapes at her. Kara’s face is resolute and she follows up on Alex’s instructions with a few questions of her own, questions that Lena herself hadn’t even thought to ask. At this point, Lena feels like a child in a clinic with their parents, kicking their feet back and forth, impatiently waiting for their damn lollipop.
She almost dies when Alex hands out a bowl. “You’re not serious.”
Alex shrugs, a smile tugging at her lips. “What kind of doctor would I be?”
Lena turns to Kara and finds herself asking, “Which one should I get?”
Kara taps a finger against her chin, pensive as though this is a weight-of-the-universe type decision. “Cherry is my personal favourite.” Lena nods and plucks a red one from the glass bowl without a second thought, trying to school her features when a grin of approval breaks across Kara’s face.
Alex materializes a pair of crutches and leans them against the table beside her. “You’re going to need these.”
Lena sighs in resignation. She knows she should go home, effectively dismissed from both the Tower and L-Corp for the time being. She takes a moment to inform Jess of her current predicament and asks Sam to hop in on the calls that cannot be rescheduled.
She takes the crutches and starts positioning them under each armpit, already feeling wobbly and she hasn’t even moved off yet. Oh dear.
“You alright there?” Alex asks, raising a dubious eyebrow when Lena nods and takes an unsteady step forward. Okay, so it’s not as easy as it looks.
“Let me help,” Kara offers, somewhat unsure but still eager. “I—like I can fly you home. Help you get settled.” She rubs the back of her neck, cheeks flushed and Lena’s grip on the crutches is suddenly even weaker.
They’re both starting to remember that things are still in that awkward period, marred with challenging-to-start conversations and separated by a building’s worth of unspoken words and half-exposed truths. Things that Lena still has locked up tighter than Fort Knox in her little boxes. But still, Kara’s here, Kara wants to help and maybe Lena wants that too.
She used to think that Kara was an open book and in some ways, it is still true, but there’s a far off look that Kara gets, something in between Kara Danvers and Supergirl, a side that is still unknown to Lena. She tries not to dwell on that now because Kara’s hands are twitching, waiting for permission to scoop her up.
“If—if you want,” Kara says quietly, shifting her weight nervously, jerking Lena back to the present.
“Sure,” it comes out somewhere from the back of her throat but that’s all she can manage. Kara smiles brightly, nodding again.
Alex snickers, fearless under the weight of a glare Lena typical reserves for the vile creatures in her boardroom. “Don’t forget this.” She picks Lena’s bag off the floor, tucking her shoe inside and hands it to Kara.
It’s automatic when Lena lifts her arms and slides into Kara’s embrace so seamlessly, like a puzzle piece finding its place. Kara slings Lena’s bag and crutches over one shoulder, still holding onto Lena with big hands placed low on her back and high up her thigh and sweet Jesus, Lena’s face must be as red as her ankle.
Lena waves and thanks Alex before they’re out the door.
Flying is just as nerve wracking as it ever was but Lena can feel the considerate adjustments Kara makes. Slowing her usual breakneck speeds, shielding Lena with her ceaseless warmth from frigid wind nipping at her mercilessly, muttering you okays? whenever Lena’s frantic grip tightens.
It should feel weird but for some reason, up in the air in Kara’s secure enclosure feels more natural than anything else has in a long time. Lena relaxes, buries her face in Kara’s shoulder and drags the sweet scent of her perfume into her lungs.
In a matter of minutes, Kara touches down gently onto Lena’s balcony. Lena peels her face away from the comfort of Kara’s super suit, expecting to be set down on her feet and handed her crutches but that doesn’t happen. Kara doesn’t loosen her grip, doesn’t make a move to put Lena down. Rather, she shifts Lena slightly in her arms, reaching for the door only to realize belatedly that it's locked up tight.
For a moment, Kara seems to consider wrenching the door from its track and setting off both the sensitive alarms and Lena’s ire, but then she’s nudging Lena’s forehead with her nose, an innocuous action that swiftly cuts off the oxygen supply to Lena’s brain like a guillotine.
A limp arm flops out and a trembling thumb presses against the biometric lock. The door slides open and Kara carries her inside carefully like precious cargo that cannot be jostled.
“Bedroom?” Kara asks, words marking a new tally on Lena’s very soul, drumming out a disco beat against her ribs.
Lena can think of nothing more detrimental to her state of mind right now than Supergirl standing in her bedroom so she says lifelessly, “The living room is fine.”
Kara nods and places her on the couch slowly, muscles rippling across her broad shoulders and powerful arms and Christ, Lena can’t suppress the prolonged shudder overtaking her entire body. Fuck.
“Are you cold? Can I get you anything?” Kara asks softly, still so close Lena’s practically drowning in her lavender scent.
“My laptop,” Lena manages those two words and nothing else because Kara is gingerly placing her ankle on a cushion with the dexterity of a bomb squad. Kara disappears from view and is back seconds later with an assortment of items not requested but also needed. It’s so thoughtful and sweet and Lena nearly cries on the spot.
“Thank you,” she says in favour of something much more neurotic. As a result, her voice is robotic, her movements are sluggish and her brain is lagging terribly.
It makes Kara frown. “Does it hurt a lot?” She points to the offending limb and Lena is tempted to chop the bloody thing off.
But Kara is here, in her penthouse, for the first time since calling her out on her bad choices. The air was stifling then, painted an awful shade of tense and Lena had remained steadfast in her conviction that her actions were justified. If anything, Kara’s arrogant stance at her balcony door spurred Lena on further.
That ominous cloud has lifted now, the sky cleared, the sun shining but it’s still not the same.
“Yes but it’s not that,” Lena admits against her better judgement, “the meds are helping.”
“Then what?” Kara prods gently, in a way that lets Lena know her response is completely voluntary.
Lena sighs. “I have so much work to do. At L-Corp.” She glares daggers at her own leg. “I really don’t have time for this.”
Kara smiles warmly and the entire room seems to brighten too. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it work, being the boss and all,” she says confidently and oddly enough it makes Lena feel infinitely better, frustration released like the opening of a pressure valve.
She sinks further into the couch as Kara helps wrap a fleece blanket around her. If the Kryptonian remembers that it used to be hers and that Lena stole it some point, she doesn’t comment. Lena’s grateful.
“I’ll check on you later, it comes out like a statement and a question as though, despite how their day has gone so far, Kara is not certain if her presence is wholeheartedly welcomed.
“Okay,” Lena says with a smile that Kara returns full force.
Kara does indeed return later, around dinner time for the suburban moms. She has a takeout bag from Kung Pao Wok and Lena barely bites back the God, I love you, lingering on the tip of her tongue.
She changes into grey sweats and a white tee with the sleeves rolled up like James Dean, muscles straining against the cotton fabric in a way Lena has never noticed before. Kara usually wears looser clothing, things that will conceal her sculpted figure lest someone see through the flimsy veneer of her disguise and connect the dots. They haven’t spent any time alone together like this. Or group settings really, Lena politely declining game night invites while citing the claim that she has work or some other feeble excuse pulled out of her ass.
This, however, feels oddly right and easy, despite how every preceding moment has been anything but that.
“Here.” Kara hands Lena the broccoli stir fry that’s her go-to order and it pries open the steel trap lid to Lena’s boxes just a tad.
“Thank you,” she says, taking the safe-for-the-environment container slowly, almost shyly. Kara smiles and asks about her day, her pain level, if she remembered to ice her ankle, if she wants iced tea or lemonade.
Lena watches Kara flit about her kitchen with such familiarity it stuns her into silence for a while. It’s been little over a year and yet, Kara still remembers where the plates and cutlery are, which glass Lena prefers using, that she likes exactly six ice cubes with her drink.
Kara settles next to Lena with her trough of lo mein, a CatCo water bottle Lena couldn’t bring herself to throw out, potstickers and a shy smile.
Suddenly, things don’t feel quite so awkward.
Until of course, Kara asks if they can watch some television while they eat and Lena is slapped in the face with her Netflix queue that hasn’t been touched since their…falling out.
“You…you haven’t watched anything,” Kara says, breathless and bewildered.
Lena shoves some food into her mouth to buy herself time because what can she say that won’t sound utterly pathetic? “I guess I didn’t want to watch anything without….” She trails off because boy does it sound pathetic but Kara just looks at her with so much understanding and nods.
“Brooklyn 99?”
“Sounds great.” And it is great, familiar and something Lena hasn’t felt in so long it aches inside. They continue eating in silence and for once, Lena doesn’t mind it, doesn’t wound herself up tighter than a corkscrew, doesn’t search for some way to alleviate the awkwardness.
Because now that silence is comfortable, the ambiance is pleasant. The warmth emanating from Kara draws Lena in like the way plants grow towards the sun. Kara’s laughter bounces around the inside of Lena’s skull at the current antics of Peralta and Boyle and it spreads throughout her body, lighting her up like a Christmas tree.
Simply put, it’s nice.
So nice that Lena’s nodding off without realizing until she feels Kara cradling her once more. She cracks open a heavy eyelid as they enter the bedroom. A part of her wants to fuss, wants to rebel, wants to enjoy whatever this moment is with Kara because God only knows if they’ll ever have this again.
But she can’t form the words, exhaustion has rudely shut down her brain. Kara tucks her in, snug as a bug, the way her mother used to and tears begin to fall before Lena can register the cause.
“What’s wrong?” Kara breathes over Lena’s face, so concerned.
If anyone asks, Lena will blame this loopy episode on the wonderful painkillers Alex prescribed. “Stay with me?”
“Until you fall asleep?”
Forever, she wants to say but all she can do now is hum her assent before sleep pulls her under.
Lena awakes alone in her expansive bed, groggy and unsure of yesterday’s events. That is until she stretches and a twinge radiates from her foot, sharp as broken glass. She screams into her pillow, all the profanities her pain addled brain can remember.
“Lena.” She jerks her head up, blows a strand of hair out of her face, twists her torso and nearly loses her mind. Kara’s standing there, sporting khakis and a navy button down, hair perched on her head in a perfect golden bun, holding a goddamn tray and wearing a goofy smile.
Lena squeaks, unable to formulate any words because as far as she knows, Kara was not supposed to still be here. Well, she clearly did not stay, given she’s all dressed for a day at CatCo but even that bears questioning as to why she’s in Lena’s penthouse. How did she even get into the penthouse?
“I hope you don’t mind,” Kara says quickly, her grip on the wooden tray tightening a precarious amount. “I...I thought maybe some of your favourite foods might cheer you up.” She bites her lip and looks away for a moment and Lena is still at a loss for words.
The last time Kara ventured across the world for Lena’s favourites resulted in Kara committing a federal offence thanks to some suggestive word selections. She even blamed Lena for the choice she had the agency of making but still, Lena refuses to look at the negatives because the nervous yet hopeful look on Kara’s face is much too endearing.
However, the blonde seems to think otherwise of Lena’s silence. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to like, y’know, invade your space...or whatever. It’s just...you seemed so bummed out yesterday—even though it’s not your fault! So I just—I wanted to help and your alarm system wasn’t on but I guess maybe I should’ve called first and asked if—”
“Kara,” Lena cuts her off, barely managing to not laugh because Kara’s rambling is as cute as she remembers it being. It still warms her chest with a sickening kind of affection, still makes her think that Kara’s the purest soul she’s ever met. It strikes her with the troubling realization that she’s still hopelessly in love with her former best friend.
“Y-y-yes?” Kara stammers, looking up with her head ducked, the tip of her sock-clad foot curling into the polished mahogany flooring.
“I appreciate it really,” Lena says in earnest. “Thank you.” Kara blushes harder and Lena decides that it’s a beautiful shade on her. “Now come on. Show me what you brought.”
“Oh.” That seems to unfreeze the Kryptonian. She straightens and strides with purpose away from the door and towards the bed. She places the tray next to Lena. “Scones from Dublin with the cream and jam that you like, and a pumpkin spice latte from Noonan’s,” she informs Lena with a proud grin.
“Thank you,” Lena repeats, practically salivating over the aroma. Then she finally takes note of the relatively modest amount of food and she asks, “Are you joining me?” with a hue of hopefulness she can’t displace.
Kara shakes her head, seeming regretful. “I should actually be at CatCo already. Andrea’s gonna have my head.” She grimaces but quickly shakes herself out of it. “I should probably go now but I'll um, I'll talk to you...later?”
Lena nods, already smearing the cream and jam in a meticulous 1:1 ratio. She returns Kara’s smile before the blonde speeds out of the room, causing her thick curtains to flap wildly in the sharp breeze.
Lena follows Alex’s instructions with a disgruntled mindset.
She keeps weight off of her ankle, ices it at regular intervals, keeps it propped dutifully on cushions, takes her medication like clockwork. Kara still comes by, sometimes just to drop food off as if Lena has somehow been rendered useless in that department. Other times she lingers, still seeming unsure of her role in all this.
If Lena is being honest with herself, something she doesn’t do nearly enough, she knows exactly what place Kara holds in her life. The place she wants her to hold anyway. But she understands Kara’s hesitation. There’s still discussions to be had, hurdles to climb and for once, Lena isn’t overcome with apprehension about it.
Damn her uncharacteristic optimism but she’s feeling rather hopeful for the first time in months.
She only works from home for two more days before she’s itching to get back in the office. Those sexist pricks in her boardroom are already conspiring to start a mutiny and she needs to maintain a firm hand on the helm before this ship sinks. For good this time.
Kara and Alex don’t seem to be enthused about this decision. Neither do Jess and Sam but Lena is as hard headed as all of them combined. So she gets her way and makes a very conscious effort not to slip up and be on the receiving end of concerned yet smug I told you so’s.
Lena hobbles around on her crutches for short distances or whenever Kara isn’t around to carry her, a troublingly rare occurrence. As distracting as it is, Lena would be straight up lying if she said having the Kara’s strong arms resting on her lower back and upper thigh wasn’t doing wonderful and terrible things to her fragile heart.
But it’s the other little inconveniences that have her barely clinging to her sanity. Things like getting dressed in the morning since about three-quarters of her wardrobe is suddenly out of the question. She never knows what to wear now.
This injury has become a thorn in Lena’s side, a hindrance in every way. It impedes her usually confident and graceful movements, undercuts the authority she wields at L-Corp at the worst possible time. This mounting frustration due to the reduced mobility and lost time is only soothed by the fact that Kara is still around, loyal as a Labrador.
Otherwise, it’s purely maddening.
It’s day nine of this nightmare and Lena hasn’t iced her ankle at all. In her defence she’s been very preoccupied, a hundred different problems at L-Corp, investors screaming for attention like infants and one junior executive having the audacity to suggest Lena isn’t up for the challenge. He shrinks back behind a Manila folder when Lena casts him a scathing look Lillian would applaud at.
But that lack of care has caught up to her now, in the form of an obnoxious throb. The ankle has increased in diameter and Kara’s crinkle has reappeared.
“You didn’t ice it today, did you?” she says with a disapproving frown the moment she lets herself in from the balcony. Lena is tempted to remind her, once again, that it’s not a fucking entrance but she doesn’t. She knew this was coming. She had hoped that since her driver and Jess were the ones to help her in and out of her car and meetings, Kara would be too busy to pop by.
False hope, indeed.
“There was a lot going on,” Lena insists weakly, as if Kara will agree that that makes it okay. If anything, Kara looks appropriately exasperated as she closes the distance, drops to her knees and stares intently at Lena’s ankle. “What are you—?”
A blast of frigid air ghosts across her ankle and settles deep into her bones, spreading out relief and alleviating the pressure. But it’s also super cold and unexpected, causing an undignified yelp to escape Lena’s throat.
The steady stream ceases abruptly. “Oh I’m sorry,” Kara says quickly, jumping back up her feet. “I—Rao, I should’ve asked if that was okay.”
“No it’s fine,” Lena tells her without missing a beat because Kara is retreating and she’s not pleased by the distance between them. These past few days of having Kara hovering nearby, even in the moments where her services aren’t required but she thinks Lena can’t sense her, has been the highlight. The only thing that stops Lena from amputating this compromised limb so she can move on with her life.
Even so, Kara doesn’t seem quite convinced. Lena adds, “Really it’s fine, Kara. I should’ve been icing it.” She tries to straighten her posture in her seat and winces when she shifts her foot too fast.
“How’s the pain?” The Kryptonian is no longer flustered, concern has taken over every feature of her face. She puts on her glasses and the suit recedes to reveal comfy sweatshirt and acid-wash jeans. She sits down next to Lena, leaving a decent gap between them.
“It’s been better,” Lena murmurs through a sharp exhale, knowing that Kara will have no trouble hearing her.
Kara drapes an arm on the back on the couch, turning fully to Lena. “I know it can’t be easy but the meds are still helping right? Or should I get Alex to change them?”
Lena shakes her head. “No they’re helping—wait, have you broken your ankle before?”
“My arm actually.”
“Really?”
“Well I’m not always indestructible,” Kara reminds her with a playful eye roll that makes Lena chuckle softly. Then her face turns serious again. “I blew my powers out back when I first came out as Supergirl. I was inexperienced and rash and so angry. It took days for them to come back. But before they did, there was an earthquake and it was pretty bad. I couldn’t really do anything. It was awful.” Her eyes are downcast. “People died.”
Lena realizes now, it's not the first time she’s seen such a somber look on Kara’s face. It’s been there before, a few times, something rare and inexplicable. She never pressed the blonde to speak about it, sensing that that was not what was needed. She’d just put her arms around her and hold her tight, letting her know unequivocally that she was here for her no matter what. It’s hard to imagine, the weight that rests on Kara’s shoulders, the things she must have seen, the lives she was unable to save. The lives she’s lost forever.
“And this?” Lena’s nimble fingers trace the tiny scar above Kara’s left eyebrow. She’s always wanted to ask about it and as it turns out, pain medication is the perfect thing to loosen her tongue.
Kara’s breath hitches in her chest and she leans every so slightly into the touch until Lena pulls her hand away.
“My father used to take me to different planets all the time,” she begins, a wistful glint in her eyes. “Sometimes it was during—well I guess you could call them business trips of sorts. He was a scientist. Like you.” She’s smiling now and Lena returns. “I loved all my travels with him but my favourite was Starhaven. The air smelled like cinnamon.”
Kara’s smile morphs into a wide grin and something blossoms inside of Lena’s chest. “I liked collecting things to take back with me so I could show my Aunt Astra.” The brightness in her eyes dims for a bit and Lena desperately wants to know why. “There was this flower that I really wanted to pick but I couldn't reach it. I kept trying but then my feet slipped on the gravel and I fell about ten feet. Ukr was so worried. Luckily, I only got a tiny gash and some shallow scrapes.”
Lena remains quiet for a while, stunned by the casual use of the Kryptonian word for father. It brings her back to a few days ago when she first broke this irritating ankle and similarly foreign words were whispered against her skin like a promise. She shakes herself out of that daze when Kara starts shifting nervously, appearing fearful that maybe she’s overshared, that maybe they’ve reached the expiry date for when this information would’ve been welcomed.
“I never knew that,” Lena whispers, unable to think of anything else short of those other words she wants to know the meaning of. Her knowledge of Kryptonian vocabulary is limited only to what Lex had deemed relevant in his journals.
“I’ve always wanted to tell you things like this,” Kara tells her, hanging her head down. “About Krypton and my family. To let you know that I understand what it’s like to feel the burden of our parents’ mistakes. To want to do right by them.” She swallows harshly, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, refusing to meet Lena’s gaze. “But I…I understand if—if it’s too late for that.”
“Why would it be?”
“Because I messed up!” The blonde’s sudden outburst and upright posture catches Lena off guard. Now she’s pacing, heavy footfalls threatening to groove a path into the grey hardwood. “I lied to you for so long, not letting you know who I really was when all I’ve ever wanted is for you to know me. To see me.”
“I see you,” Lena says quietly but it’s enough to make Kara pause in her sudden march. Blue eyes turn to her and widen so she takes a deep breath to ensure she’s as sincere as possible with what she says next.
She needs Kara to not only believe it, but to feel it, in every atom of her being. “I think I’ve always seen you,” she continues with a soft smile. “I…I convinced myself that I didn’t know who you were because it was easier, less painful. You were wrong to lie but I was wrong too in how I reacted, in how long I carried this grudge for. But I meant what I said when you came back from the Phantom Zone. I understand why you kept your secret from me. Why you needed to protect me.”
It wasn’t an explanation Lena had been willing to accept but time has made her wiser, less bitter. It’s hard to deny that all of Kara’s actions have displayed an inherent protectiveness, one born out of loyalty and a connection Lena will not name, not even in the privacy of her mind.
She goes on, “I’m…I’m not holding it against you anymore, Kara. You’re an alien and I’ve never had any issue with that so of course I’d love to hear about your home and your childhood. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me. And— if I’m being honest— I just…I want to move on. Move forward. If—if that’s something that you want too?”
There’s an inflection born of uncertainty in those last words and it’s obliterated the moment Kara breathes out, “Yes. Rao, I want that so much. And I want to know more about you too. This goes both ways.”
“Is that why you were avoiding me?” Lena inquires, a little bit teasing, a little bit still hurt.
“Honestly?”
Lena nods. “Honestly.”
Kara sighs, craning her neck back, hands on her hips. “I didn’t know what to say to you. How to fix things and get back to where we used to be. It’s all I’ve been searching for this past year: a way to make things right. When I hugged you after…after you guys rescued me, I was not in the right head space. The Phantom Zone….” Kara visibly pales and her eyes seem almost glazed over.
Without thinking, Lena takes Kara’s trembling hands in hers and gives them an encouraging squeeze, guiding Kara back to the couch. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Kara cuts her off, sucks in a breath and tries again. “The first time I was trapped there, I had to relive Krypton’s destruction. I had to say goodbye to my parents over and over again. I had to endure the flames and the smoke and the way the ground split apart as the planet crumbled around us. I had to lose my entire culture. Everything I ever knew. That’s what I expected to see this time too, y’know?”
“But you didn’t.”
Kara shakes her head. “I had to watch everyone I love die because I couldn’t save them. Because I failed.” She tightens her grip on Lena’s hands, firm but not painful. “I lost you, Lena. So many times and I….”
Lena runs the pad of her thumb over the back of Kara’s hand, the tanned skin such a stark contrast to her own porcelain complexion. She’s letting Kara know that she’s here, in whatever way she’s allowed to be. The blonde has been a reliable comfort in dark times, in the moments that made Lena feel unworthy of such a presence in her life. That’s all she wants to be for Kara now.
“When I hugged you, I didn’t want to let you go,” Kara admits, sniffling a little. “I…I wanted to be close to you but I wasn’t sure where we stood. There’s so much we haven’t said to each other. But mostly, I wanted to sort some things out, get some perspective. I’ve…I’ve been,” her voice drops several decibels as if she’s about to name a taboo, “seeing someone.”
“That’s wonderful,” and Lena means it, despite all the times she’s scoffed at the mere mention of therapy. “I started a few weeks ago myself.”
Kara’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Really?”
“Well try not to sound so shocked Ms. Danvers.”
“Actually it’s Zor-El,” Kara says and suddenly her back is straighter, she’s carrying herself with an almost regal air that’s not quite Supergirl and definitely not the clumsy reporter. Lena almost pouts when Kara jumps to her feet and extends a hand to her. “Kara Zor-El of Krypton.”
Lena smiles, stands with one crutch tucked under her armpit and allows a warm and powerful hand to engulf hers with a tenderness she didn’t know possible. “Lena Luthor of Earth.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Kara grins.
Lena rolls her eyes but dammit she’s grinning too. “Dork.”
Kara laughs, full-bellied, the way she always used to even though Lena hasn’t said anything particularly funny. If Alex or god-forbid Sam was here, they’d be assaulting Lena with knowing eyebrow arches and teasing smiles because only people completely enamoured find humour in everything you say.
Thankfully, Kara’s stomach rumbles like a mini earthquake and Lena is saved from having to think about how warm and soft and right the Kryptonian’s hand feels in hers. “Gosh, I feel like I haven’t eaten all day!”
“Well I’d offer to cook something but I doubt you could wait that long.”
Kara’s eyes light up like a street lamp at the mention of Lena’s cooking. The first time she had it, a simple pasta dish thrown together in a haste, she never stopped subtly asking for these home cooked treasures. It’s all chemistry, Lena had reasoned but Kara was too busy singing her praises to hear. That’s when Lena had realized that Kara will not shy away from the compliments freely given without thinly veiled envy or self-interest.
“I can wait,” Kara declares with an indignant pout but her stomach betrays her with another growl. Then she remembers, “Oh but your foot.”
Lena blinks— she had forgotten about that entirely. “How about this? We order something now and tomorrow, if we’re both free, you can come over and be my sous-chef?”
Kara grins so wide Lena genuinely thinks her face might split open. “Yes!” She does a little fist pump and Lena falls a bit more in love. “Big Belly Burger? I saw they brought back the Korean BBQ one you like.”
Lena smiles, hardly surprised at this point that Kara remembered. “Sounds perfect.”
“Okay. Be back in a few.” Kara whips her glasses off with a dramatic flair and Lena’s breath is stolen as she watches the nanotech material birth the super suit. She’s seen it before, a few times well, and it still stirs something inside her each time.
Kara saunters towards the balcony door but comes running back in a blur to wrap her arms around Lena’s shoulders and pull her into a brain-melting, heart-stopping hug. The crutch falls to the floor, abandoned and unneeded as Kara supports most of Lena’s weight effortlessly.
“Is…is this okay?” She murmurs into Lena’s neck as she buries her face there and inhales deeply. It lacks the urgency of the embrace they shared when Kara stumbled across the Tower ship and grabbed her, clung to her like a lifeline. But it’s also different from the ones they shared over their three years of friendship.
This one is so unique but still manages to feel vaguely familiar. It feels like coming home, feels like stepping into the sun after wandering in the darkness for eons. It alights Lena’s body with a fervent emotion she cannot identify but she welcomes it all the same.
She answers the question by tightening her own hold and Kara’s adjusts in kind. She breathes her in deeply, saturating her lungs in the scent, moulds her fingers against rippling bugles of muscle, tangles them in soft honey blonde hair. Every tension knot is undone, all anxiety released, fear dissipates and Lena feels lighter than she has in years, almost carefree in her glee.
After God knows how long, Kara reluctantly pulls back, presses a gentle kiss to Lena’s cheek and disappears in a fast blend of red and blue. Lena slumps back into the couch, suspended in bliss, fingers grazing the spot Kara’s soft lips had touched.
Lena moves corporate mountains, shuts down misogynist with a writhing glare that could rival Lillian’s, invents world-saving technology on the fly, works actual miracles against insurmountable odds. She fits every definition of the term badass female.
Yet it’s Kara’s face covered in flour that leaves her at a loss. She doesn’t even remember what the hell they’re supposed to be making in her gourmet kitchen. All that’s been accomplished so far are some chopped vegetables because Kara has bopped Lena on the nose with her flour tipped finger and Lena has to retaliate with a handful hurdled like a baseball.
Now Kara’s bracing against the kitchen island, laughing uncontrollably and Lena’s laughing along until her face turns red and happy.
Then she sobers up and snaps her fingers, feigning authority so they can get back to the task at hand. “If you want dinner, we have to start cooking at some point.”
“Okay, okay,” Kara acquiesces, trying (failing) to look serious. “What’s next?”
Lena tilts her head. “Listen carefully.” Kara nods emphatically, practically vibrating with unbridled excitement. “Place the flour and kosher salt in one of the mixing bowls.” Kara holds a medium sized stainless steel one in a question. “The size above that. Now, pour in the hot water. Slowly!”
Kara cringes, hot water halted mid-pour before she re-adjusts herself and does as instructed. “Good. Okay now stir until you get a mixture. Yea keep going. Okay that’s good. Flour your hands again but I swear to God if you try to mess me up this time—”
“I won’t!” Kara jumps in quickly but the impish gleam in eyes tells Lena she can’t be trusted at all.
“Mm-hmm,” she says, dubious as ever. Kara pouts and it tugs at Lena’s weak heartstrings. Lena clears her throat and for once, she actually wants the pain in her foot to act up so she can have a distraction from the butterflies breaking out of their fortified cocoons in her stomach.
“What now, boss?”
“Transfer the dough to a clear spot on the counter. Make sure it’s clean. Sprinkle a bit more flour. Just a dash. Perfect. Okay now knead for like…let’s say five-ish minutes. We’ll stop before that to be sure—we don’t want the dough to get too stiff.” Kara stops at the three minute mark and lifts Lena out of her chair to check even though it’s not necessary.
Lena is so unprepared that a full five seconds pass before she remembers what she’s supposed to be doing, until Kara’s lips ghost her ear as she asks, “Is this good?”
Lena pokes a finger into the dough. It’s soft and leaves a small indent that slowly fills up a little. “Y-yea. This um, this is…good.”
“Yay,” comes a joyous whisper so fucking close and Lord, Lena finds herself praying for the strength not to shudder and moan. It’s unbecoming for a Luthor, even the ones unwillingly saddled with the accursed name.
“We need to wrap it up, right?” Kara’s question jerks Lena back to reality.
“Yes correct. Make it into a ball if you can. Let it rest for roughly thirty minutes. By then, the pork will be ready.”
“Awesome.” Kara puts Lena back down and wraps the dough in cling wrap. She sets it aside and turns to Lena, ready and adorably eager for the next task, ignorant of how hard Lena’s heart is slamming against the bony cage keeping it restrained.
Under Lena’s careful supervision, the pair cooks a spread, enough for six people. Or one person and a insatiable Kryptonian. The marble countertop is filled with platters of potstickers, Szechuan chicken, vegetable fried rice, spicy Shanghai noddles, steamed broccoli, Mongolian beef and grilled shrimp skewers.
Kara squeals, clapping as softly as her enthusiasm will allow her lest she ruin Lena’s penthouse with a sonic wave. She sweeps Lena off her feet and twirls around, declaring this the best night ever and Lena lets out the most ridiculous giggle.
As expected, Kara inhales most of the food once Lena has secured her average person sized portion. The conversations are light, mostly about day-to-day stuff but Lena notices, the slight gaps and pauses in Kara’s otherwise animated recap of her week.
Then she realizes. “You can talk to me about it. The Super stuff. I don’t mind.” Lena hasn’t been to the Tower much recently and outside of the briefings J’onn insists on having, she and Kara have yet to participate in a direct exchange. Standing alongside Brainy and offering tech support only scratches the surface.
“Yea?” Kara says but her gaze is fixed on her half-empty plate.
Lena stretches across the table and entwined their fingers. The touch makes Kara jerk her head up, almost in disbelief. Then a shy, goofy smile, the kind that reduces Lena to a pathetic, lovesick teenager, etches across her dashing face.
Kara races off, occasionally slipping into super-speed as she gesticulates, regaling Lena with Supergirl stories, both present and past. She talks about the Legion, how L-Corp works with them in the future because of Lena’s vision. She dives into her pre-Crisis travels to Earth-1 (great) and Earth-X (awful) and how she’s dying to introduce Lena to Caitlyn and Felicity.
Lena learns that there’s multiple facets to the bubbly alien sitting cross-legged on her oak furniture. Kara is currently making a stabbing gesture with her fork as she talks about the time she used H’ronmeer’s staff while helping the resistance on Mars. Lena decides right then and there that she wants to uncover every hidden layer and reciprocate as much as possible.
So once Kara’s verbal marathon comes to a close and she inquiries about a project L-Corp is working on, Lena shares.
It does lead to some heavier topics, residual tensions surrounding Non Nocere and harun-el and of course, the kryptonite. But it’s not stifling like it used to be. Lena doesn’t feel under attack and Kara doesn’t appear to be hurt. Just curious, wanting to know why and Lena is determined not to lie. She wants this to work, she wants the honesty.
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re brilliant,” Kara offers freely. “I’ve always thought that. Even…even when I was acting like a jackass about it.”
“You weren’t,” Lena tries to disagree but Kara gives her a look that reads oh really? “Okay, maybe a little about the kryptonite but I get it now. Truly. I was looking at things pragmatically. It was a way to help my friend and nothing else but to you, it was personal and insensitive. And I’m…I’m sorry I used it on you. I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
“Well I do,” Kara says simply, just like that. “Forgive you I mean.”
“You—you do?” Incredulity slips into her vice and onto her face because how can Kara so easily forgive her for something so egregious? “No, you—I know what kryptonite does to you and I used it anyway.” Lena leans back in her chair heavily, averting her gaze.
“I turned the Fortress— a remnant of your home world— against you,” her voice trembles with the weight of each word. “I corrupted something beautiful that you wanted to share with me. Something you thought I was worthy of. I knew—God I knew— it was real but I didn’t want to believe it. I was only thinking about myself, about how much I wanted to hurt you.”
How much I wanted you to love me the way I love you.
How angry I was that you didn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and it’s only when a thumb brushes against her cheek does she realize she’s crying. Rivers of tears stream down her face and her vision blurs with it.
“I know you are,” Kara says softly, grabbing Lena’s hand lightning quick but gentle. She strokes the back of it slowly, telling Lena it’s okay to let it out with just a touch. Lena does so for a few more minutes and reclaims her composure seconds later.
“Y’know,” Kara begins once Lena has calmed down, “I’ve thought about everything that’s happened and I realized some things. It was impossible for me to separate the two parts of myself—Kara, your best friend and Supergirl the hero. I…I expected you to treat me the same way, whether or not I was in the cape. And when you didn’t, I lashed out, made things…difficult. Made it harder to tell you my truth.
She sighs heavily, like something is anchored on her chest. “This secret, I never meant for it to become this chasm between us. But I witnessed it happening and I got scared and I retreated. I just…I wanted to keep you, Lena. I wanted to be selfish. And then when it seemed like the universe was finally going my way, I didn’t even stop to ask how you were feeling, if you needed to talk. I just convinced myself that everything was fine even though your smiles didn’t reach your eyes, and you flinched a little whenever I hugged you, and you didn’t laugh like you used to. You stopped being my Lena and I accepted it because I wanted to be with you so badly. I’m sorry.”
“No don’t apologize,” Lena is quick to say because it really isn’t all Kara’s fault, the same way it isn’t all hers. “I think we’ve both used that word enough for one lifetime. This is just us talking now, no judgement, no anger. Just honesty.”
Kara beams, blinding like the sun. “Yea okay. I…I like that. I like this,” she waves between the two of them. “Rao, I’ve missed you so much, Lena.”
Lena squeezes Kara’s hand and smiles back. “Me too. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad to be here. And, just so you know, I have no doubt that you’ll continue to help make the world a better place. One breakthrough at a time.”
Lena blushes a fire hydrant red and heart sputters behind her ribs. “Thank you. That’s…that’s all I’ve ever wanted. To do good. I know I lost sight of that for a little while but,” she bites her lip and tries to look away but Kara holds her gaze. “I know what I want now.”
(And Kara may not pick on it but Lena’s not just talking about her world-saving ingenuity. That’s fine, Lena isn’t quite ready to dive into that just yet).
“Well, you have my full support,” Kara says, lifting the glass of Aldebaran run Lena had asked M’gann to retrieve. “Always.”
“And you have mine always,” Lena returns, clinking her wineglass against Kara’s.
By the time all the food has disappeared and they’ve returned to playful banter about how bottomless Kara’s stomach is, the blonde begins to rummage through the freezer as though she lives here. She stops short when her hands grasp a tub of mint chocolate chip she clearly wasn’t expecting to find. Truthfully, Lena recently started adding it back to her shopping list, alongside the artery-clogging snacks with zero nutritional value that Kara is so fond of (and she pointedly ignored the pleased smile on Jess’s face when the secretary didn’t fail to notice the additions).
Kara nearly rips the freezer door off its hinges in her childish delight as she wrenches out the deeply buried ice cream. With the next breath, she scoops Lena up into her arms and settles in the living room. She reaches for the remote and pulls up a movie in their Netflix queue.
Lena tries not to panic when Kara shifts so that Lena is situated directly in her lap. Tries not to lose her mind when Kara starts running light circles along her hip bone around minute five of the movie. By minute thirty, they’re so close now that every soft chuckle from Kara causes a tiny puff of air to hit Lena’s nape and another tiny box to break free from its shackles.
The Kryptonian is mindful of Lena’s ankle, keeping it elevated, using her freeze breath to ice it periodically now she knows that Lena is comfortable with her casual use of powers.
As the movie nears the end, Lena starts falling asleep nuzzled against Kara’s chest and under the fleece blanket. She barely registers it when Kara rises, still securely stationed in the blonde’s arms. Kara carries her carefully to her bedroom, pulls the covers up and over but as she turns to leave, a pale hand darts out to grab her by the wrist.
“Stay,” Lena murmurs, not give any amount of fucks about how desperate she might sound. Kara doesn’t need much convincing. Lena feels the bed shift as Kara slips in beside her. She gravitates towards the warmth and love emanating from Kara and falls under the lull of sleep to the steady thump of Kara’s heartbeat under her ear.
Six weeks fly by unnoticed.
Kara spends nearly all of her free time with Lena, only leaving the brunette’s side for Supergirl emergencies. She has even taken to working from Lena’s office whenever she can manage to slip out of Andrea’s hawk-like purview.
“I can type up an article from anywhere,” the blonde had told her with a dismissive wave as she settled into Lena’s couch.
Kara sleeps over more often than not, until Lena finds herself clearing a spot in her closet for her friend’s work shirts without thinking about the obvious why.
She doesn’t acknowledge the dresser she empties only to fill with Kara’s checkered boxers, silly cartoon socks and the undershirts the blonde prefers sleeping in.
She won’t answer Sam’s unrelenting probing into why the fuck there’s an art piece—a skillful portrait in Lena’s likeness—hanging on the wall in Lena’s home office with the initials K.Z.D scribbled in the lower left corner.
She completely ignores Nia’s slacked jaw appearance when the young woman shows up at her door and discovers Kara’s infamous wool jacket draped on the rack and brown Oxfords placed neatly by the door that clearly don’t belong to Lena. Neither do the light-up high-tops and Adidas slides.
She doesn’t question it when she adds Kara’s thumbprint to her updated security system. When she listens to the playlists Kara makes for her. When she reinstates Kara’s unfettered access to L-Corp.
It’s all well within the perimeters of friendship, she reasons. It comes with this transparency their relationship is now thriving on.
It doesn’t mean they don’t argue or disagree.
It doesn’t mean that things are suddenly perfect. This is the real world but they don’t walk away, they don’t leave. Not like before. Now, they talk things out. They listen, they try to understand the opposing views. They compromise, they inspire, they encourage.
Now, they’re just Lena and Kara, in all things.
“Well, looks like you managed to follow instructions, Luthor. I’m impressed,” Alex says with a playful tone. The god forsaken cast is off now, Lena’s ankle finally healed and of course Alex has to kill the moment by adding, “I have some suggestions for sensible foot—”
“If you finish that sentence, Danvers,” Lena threatens but there’s no bite to it. All bark and Alex just winks, unbothered.
“Did I miss it?” Kara comes barreling into the med bay, skidding to an graceless stop before flattening her sister. Alex shoves her but Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to realize it. All her focus is on Lena and Lena returns the attention tenfold.
Alex clears her throat. “Yes I just took the cast off. I was telling Lena that her ankle has healed up nicely.”
“That’s great!” Kara exclaims, reaching for a high five that Lena gives her without hesitation. Alex eyes her rolls but gives Kara one too after the pouting starts.
“I’m just….” Alex trails off, realizing that her presence is not even a tiny blimp on Kara or Lena’s radar. “Whatever. I’m around if you need me.” The redhead sounds disgruntled but Lena catches the fond smile on her lips and the thumbs up she throws before she exits.
“We should celebrate,” Kara says. “Oh! We can try out that new kebab place.”
“The one on Elm Drive?”
“Yea.”
“Kara, that place has been open for a year now. It’s hardly new.”
“It’s new to me. I haven’t been yet.”
“You…you haven’t?”
“We were supposed to go together,” Kara reminds her, not that Lena has forgotten (Kara had shown up at her office with the promo flyers and a request to go once the place opened up. Lena couldn’t say anything other than yes).
“I’d love to,” Lena says, reaching for Kara’s hand when the blonde begins to deflate. “I just…I can’t believe that you didn’t go.”
“I couldn’t. Not without you. It’s our thing, y’know. Trying out new spots. Reporting back to everyone the places marked down as decent by Lena Luthor standards.”
Lena scoffs. “You say that like my standards are ridiculously high.”
“Not ridiculously but they are high,” Kara reasons with a crooked smile and suddenly Lena forgets how to breathe. “I’ve always loved that about you though. How passionate you get.”
Lena exhales through her nose when she remembers how essential oxygen is to her red blood cells. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing about you.”
Kara blushes and reaches up to fidget with the glasses she isn’t even wearing. Lena feels somewhat victorious. “Should we go now?”
“Sure.” Lena is about to hop down from the examination table but stops, overcome by a sudden urge to know something. “Wait. I um…the day I nearly cracked my skull open when I broke my ankle. You caught me.” Kara nods, unsure of where Lena is going with this. “You whispered something. In Kryptonian. What…what was it?”
“Oh.” Kara’s face reddens. “It um.” She scratches the back of her neck, stalling but Lena quirks an eyebrow, telling her know that no amount of cute fumbling is going to save her.
“I basically said ‘I got you i zhao’,” and she leaves it at that but Lena is far from done.
“And what does i zhao,” she butchers the pronunciation, “mean?”
“My love,” Kara breathes, barely above a whisper. Lena is trapped in her gaze, eyes ocean-deep and bright, burning with a vast emotion Lena desperately wants to call love. She steps closer, slotting herself between Lena’s legs. She cups Lena’s face gently with one hand. “It means my love.”
“Why would you call me that?” Lena wonders aloud.
“Remember when I told you that I looked for ways to fix what was broken between us?” Lena nods slowly. “Well, I actually had the chance to. Mxy—a being from the fifth dimension— he visited me one night, offered to use his powers to help me with anything I wanted. So, I went back in time to different points in our friendship so I could tell you the truth. They didn’t end well, there were always grave consequences—literally.”
Kara frowns a little. “I didn’t understand the point of all of that. Why show me all these realities when none of them were perfect? When you would always get hurt, no matter what I did. I couldn’t change the past and it made me lose hope that we could still dictate the future.”
“You could’ve asked for anything.” Lena points out. “World peace, Krypton to never be lost. For Lex to just disappear.”
Kara smiles faintly. “I let myself be selfish again I guess. I could never help it when comes to you.”
She leans in even closer, until their breathing the same air. Lena doesn’t dare move, pinned to the spot in more ways than one. “I called you my love because that’s what you are, Lena. What you’ve always been to me. It’s why I can’t choose anything over you. It’s why every thought begins and ends with you. It’s why I didn’t tell you the truth. Because I love you and I could not lose you, Lena. It terrifies me sometimes but it also makes me better, stronger than I ever dreamed I could be. I want you in my life, I want to be yours. Always.”
While Lena’s brain is still trying to wrap around Kara’s earnest words, her heart has hijacked her muscles. That’s how she finds herself surging forward, claiming Kara’s lips in a kiss so long overdue and overflowing as the last of her boxes pour into it.
Lena licks eagerly at Kara’s upper lip. The blonde grants her access as strong hands fall to her hips and pull, eliminating any semblance of place. She welcomes Lena’s skilled tongue into her mouth and moans openly against her. She clings to Lena as though she may come adrift, lost in the dizzying world and Lena feels it down to every core, every neuron, every molecule of carbon that makes up her being.
Kara’s insistent mouth parts Lena’s quivering lips, sending small tremors and sinful sensations across her entire frame. Kara tastes of something sweet, like the hot chocolate Kelly bought for the canteen. She tastes of desires and her skin strums with it in every corner it touches Lena’s.
Lena finally thinks she understands why people say they melt into the kiss, something she often scoffed and mocked because how of foolish and scientifically incorrect it it. But she understands it now, how it feels like your bones are liquified, like you’re dissolving inch by inch.
Kara carefully cards a hand through raven locks and Lena’s heart beats wildly. Lena gives herself over to every emotion she’s suppressed, every notion of wanting she’s fought to deny, every desire that’s ever flared up in her gut and it spreads like a wildfire, burning bright and unabashed.
It’s a wordless surrender to all the things they are to one another, to the precarious game they’ve played for far too long. It began with a simple and who are you exactly? and it culminated into this.
Now, Lena knows: Kara is the woman she is going to love forever.
“Kara there’s a—oh fuck, not in here,” and it’s barely enough to break the spell. A scandalized Alex stands at the doorway, covering her eyes. “God I leave you two alone for two seconds.”
“Did you want something?” Kara snaps, shockingly, not embarrassed. She pulls away from Lena but doesn’t go far.
“There’s a metahuman situation downtown,” Alex informs her, still stubbornly keeping her eyes hidden.
Kara sighs. “Right.” She turns back to Lena. “Sorry. I have to go.”
Lena waves her off. “It’s okay. Kebab can wait.”
“Yea,” the blonde grins.
“Yes.” Lena grasps Kara’s cape at the clasp and tugs the unprepared Kryptonian forward. “I love you, Kara Zor-El. I’ve always loved you.” She presses a kiss to the corner of Kara’s mouth, chaste in comparison to the heat moments ago. “Please be careful.”
Kara tears up but manages not to cry. “Always i zhao.”
“Sometime this century,” Alex growls but even her glare can’t overshadow the brimming elation at Kara and Lena’s exchange. Kara walks over to Alex. “Whoa, no. You are not carrying me. I’ll meet you there.” The sisters take off and Lena joins Brainy in the control room.
“Ready comrade?” he asks, cracking his knuckles before handing her a comm-link.
Lena smiles. “Ready.” And she means it, in this and all things.