Chapter Text
Lena presses her palm to the nape of her neck. The sun is relentless in her glass office. She misses the mansion, its shadows.
She shifts on her chair and squints at her screen. Has she put on a bit of weight? Her dress feels tight. Lillian was always the thin, statuesque one.
But Lillian is in prison, now, and so is Lex. It’s up to Lena to spin sun out of night, but that’s exactly what gets Luthors in trouble in the first place. The dangerous belief that it’s them against the world, and they can change it. For all the right reasons. That’s how it always goes, isn’t it? All the right reasons. It’s comforting, in a perverse sort of way, to know she has that same drive.
Her phone buzzes.
Unknown [10:33 AM] Hi Lena, it’s Kara from CatCo. You gave me your number the last time we saw each other, so I hope it’s okay to text you. How are you, given everything?
Speaking of misguided ambitions. Giving a junior reporter her personal number had seemed like a good idea idea at the time, a show of good faith and transparency. They were both looking for a fresh start, and Kara was as alive and young as the city itself. It had gotten to Lena, for a desperate minute.
But she can’t take another sycophant. She doesn’t massage her eyelids. It would smudge her eyeshadow.
Lena Luthor [10:42 AM] I appreciate you reaching out, Kara. Feel free to get in touch with my team if you’d like to schedule an interview.
There, nice and clean. She sets her phone face down and watches, mesmerized, the fingerprints marking its pristine, glassy surface. Does Kara Danvers have many friends? Do others see her as approachable?
Her phone vibrates again, through the wood, loud. She quickly picks it up, the way you flinch crossing the street when your body knows what it’s like to be hit by a car.
Kara Danvers [10:58 AM] I wanted to check in on you, but I now realize it sounded like I was fishing for an exclusive. Apologies.
Lena Luthor [11:00 AM] No harm done.
She hesitates, and adds:
Lena Luthor [11:01 AM] It’s been a little touch and go with the press. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.
Kara Danvers [11:04 AM] And I should have made it clear I wasn’t asking as a journalist.
Lena considers asking Kara in what capacity she’s contacting her, then, but she’s tired of being on the defensive all the time. Besides, she’s the one who opened that door in the first place. She regrets it a little, this eagerness of hers the second someone gives her the benefit of the doubt.
Lena Luthor [11:09 AM] No, I’m just on edge. I’ll feel better once Lillian’s trial is out of the way. Thank you for asking, Kara.
She watches three dancing dots flicker on and off, and her fingers itch to clarify whatever she meant, to sound less robotic. Kara beats her to it.
Kara Danvers [11:11 AM] If you’d like to take your mind off things, I could show you around?
Lena glances at her hand, gripping the armrest. She relaxes her fingers, touches her forehead. What game are they playing? Is this even a game? Kara’s typing for a while, and Lena bites her lip.
Kara Danvers [11:17 AM] It wouldn’t be a work thing. I understand if this is too forward, but I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve been new here, too. If I can make you feel a little more welcome, just say the word. And if not, I wish you the very best, Lena Luthor.
Lena looks away, turns in her chair and gets an eyeful of that California blue sky. There are a few pictures of her, as a child. Four, five years old. Always smiling, even with Lillian’s clutches gripping her shoulder to keep her still. She looks primed for happiness. It’s for that little girl, and all the tragedies overcome, the hopes unfulfilled, that Lena texts back.
Lena Luthor [11:20 AM] I’m free this weekend.
Kara Danvers [11:21 AM] Brunch on Sunday? I know a place. It’s lowkey, I don’t think anyone will bother you.
Lena Luthor [11:22 AM] Sounds good. Text me the details?
There. Stilted, though. She’s out of practice. Has she ever been practiced? Some days, she doesn’t feel human at all.
She sits a little straighter, focuses on the spreadsheet in front of her. The trick is to act as if someone was watching her every move, her every tremor.
~
Kara doesn’t let her gaze crash into the windowless walls of her office. Her phone lights up with Alex’s contact picture. She flexes her fingers before picking it up with caution. She can only afford to replace a cracked screen once a month.
“Hey.”
“Oh, you sound weird.”
Kara rubs her thigh. “I’m still getting used to my new office. There’s no window.”
Alex hums. “Can’t you ask James to assign you a different one? Like the empty one you were using as your little hideout with him and Winn, last year.”
“Ms. Grant said it could be my next promotion.” Kara touches the framed picture of on her desk, angles it differently. “An office with a window.”
“Sure. But would she have given you this one if she’d known about the claustrophobia?”
“No.” Kara rubs her eyelids. “Anyway, what’s up?”
“I’m bored. Winn’s playing chess with himself. Do you want to hang out tonight? I’ll get dinner.”
Kara was planning on painting something. It’s been hard to touch things, lately. Brushes, canvases. “Maggie busy at work?”
“Yeah.” Alex is quiet. “But honestly, it’s been too long since our last sisters night. It’s fine if you have plans. Or want to make plans.” Her voice turns conspiratorial. “A date with James?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? It’s Friday, you’re free, he’s probably free. Have you even been on a date with him?
“Kind of. He came over with pizza the night the Venture launched, so we had to cut it short. It’s over, anyway.”
“Over?”
Kara smiles a bit. “I’m not sure there was anything to begin with. He seemed disappointed, but not heartbroken. We’re still friends. It’s fine.”
“What the hell, Kara, why didn’t you tell me? I’m definitely coming over, now.”
“No, it’s okay.” Kara pinches the back of her neck, to feel something. “Your love life is picking up, you don’t need to listen to me complain about mine.” She puts her phone on speaker, not trusting herself to hold it. “It’s not even about him, really. He’s great. I just… ”
What if an alien body, alien lips, aren’t meant to touch a human’s? How does Kal do it, if he pours all of his focus and energy into not breaking Lois? How does Lois do it, when she can make him feel so little? Do they even kiss, and more? Perhaps they don’t, perhaps they’re a chaste couple. Or maybe Kal is different, for having lived almost all his life under this sun. Has a part of him grown to be of this world? Kara doesn’t say that, tucks it in the most alien, yearning corner of her heart.
“Is that why?” Alex asks slowly. “Because Supergirl has places to be and that makes it hard to date?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s Supergirl and Kara, you know? It wasn’t fair to him, for me to feel so confused.”
“I’m sorry. I wish it were easier for you. I can’t wait to give your first actual boyfriend the shovel talk.”
Kara snorts. “Yeah, you can be scary.”
“Thank you,” Alex says, breezy. “Hey. Look at me, almost thirty years of age and only now experiencing what romance and relationships can be about. You have time. You know that, right?”
All the time in the world, Kara thinks. Lifetime after ageless lifetime. She runs a hand up and down her thigh again, trying to rub some of the tension away. “Yeah. Thank you.”
“You still sound bummed out.”
Ah, this is Kara’s opening to finesse the conversation away from a topic she knows Alex can offer nothing about, and bring it to a close so she can go back to work.
“No, I hear you.” She leans back in her chair and clears her throat gently. “All in good time. It’s just— I don’t want to become complacent. Maybe feeling like you don’t have all the the time in the world makes you more... proactive.”
“Okay. But you’ve been proactive, right? With James. It didn’t work out, but you did try.”
Kara touches the little succulent on her desk. Will it die, if it gets no sunlight in this office? Its leaves are smooth, soft. It’s a nice texture. Kara loves textures. So often, they’re the only thing she can feel.
“Remember when you threw me that sun grenade on Slaver’s Moon?”
“Yeah. Seeing it power you up was amazing.”
Amazing. Kara tries to remember what she felt on that planet. Hot wind on her skin, gravity pulling her down, everything real, solid. Tiredness, thirst. Quiet. The remnants of those sensations are slipping through her fingers. She feels so helpless.
“Kara?”
“Sorry.” She takes a silent, steadying breath. “Being under a red sun was... Something. It made me think of that time, last year, when I solar flared.”
“Oh, yeah. That sucked. You were cute, though,” Alex teases. “All sneezy.”
Kara tries to smile. She’s not sure she gets to complain about what life is like with those powers. Not when they help so many every day. Not when a day off for her, a day of normalcy and a shower raining hot on her skin, and objects not shattering in her hands, and real hugs, would mean one less fire extinguished, one less smiling child, one less car crash prevented. And yet, she wishes and wishes, every morning and every night, for days like this. Solar flares. Not just this one time when she was inexperienced, hadn’t built the mental muscles yet, carved the neural pathways required to use her powers with ease. More days like this. A life, like this.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”
Alex almost always knows. The thing with almost always it’s that it might as be once in a while. “Oh, you know, with Ms. Grant leaving and Snapper giving me a hard time,” Kara deflects, “It’s been stressful.”
“I hear you. Transitions are hard. And I haven’t been present the way I should have.”
“No, no. Enjoy your time with Maggie, guilt-free.” Kara straightens up. “Besides, I’m making new friends, too.”
“New friends? At work?”
“Not exactly. And friend, singular. Lena Luthor? We haven’t talked much since the gala, but we’ve been in touch— not for work, just... I called her to ask if she was holding up okay after sending her mother to jail. We’re having brunch this Sunday. I’m taking her to my book café.”
“That’s not something you’d do with just anyone.”
“She’s nice. She takes me seriously, you know? Like I’m worth her time. She helped me with Roulette’s fighting ring, always has something kind to say about my little articles…”
“They’re not little, you’re just starting out. But I don’t know, Kara. She’s a billionaire in dire need of good press right now, and you’re a newly minted reporter who can give her that. I’m not saying that’s what it is. Maybe she’s a nice person who could use a friend. But... Keep it in mind.”
“Okay, I will,” Kara murmurs. Is it silly? It had felt so real. The card to congratulate her on her first, non L-Corp-related byline. Her double take and her smile when she spotted Kara among the press corps at a recent conference.
“No, you know what? Don’t listen to me. We’re both allowed to meet new people. Just... Follow your heart. Your big, big heart. Okay? Seriously, forget I said anything.”
Kara chuckles, chest tight. “Okay. Thank you.”
~
Lena looks out the window when a bus pulls over at the stop across the street. She searches for Kara’s familiar silhouette. Was it just a one off, that time Kara mentioned taking the bus to get to L-Corp, or does she not drive at all? What kind of driver is she? A careful one, perhaps. She seems intent on doing things the right way, with her little notepad and tucked in shirts. She was Cat Grant’s assistant, so she must be organized.
Lena has a drink of water, wipes the smudge of lipgloss off the glass. Her eyes wander over to the hundreds upon hundreds of used books stacked all around her. She brushes her fingertips along a few cracked spines, pulls out a book. Things Hidden since the Foundation of the World. She opens it at random.
…the road to the Kingdom, by all appearances arid, but in reality the only fruitful one and in truth, easy—
Another bus. Lena looks up and there Kara is, crossing the street hurriedly, looking preoccupied. Before entering the café, she stops to check her reflection in a car window, fixes her hair. It makes Lena smile.
Kara’s eyes flit across the room and Lena waves to catch her attention. Kara lights up, waves back before making her way to her. Lena doesn’t know what to do. Should they shake hands? Kara must be wondering the same thing, because she stands awkwardly by their table.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to take care of something, and I missed my bus.”
Lena waves it away. “Don’t worry about it. Everything okay?”
“I think so.” She hangs her messenger bag on the back of her chair, takes a seat. She seems unsure. “You look so lovely without the—” She gestures to her own face. “Makeup and business outfit. I mean, you’re beautiful in those, too, but... Casual suits you.”
It doesn’t sound like a compliment, just an observation. It throws Lena off, the earnestness of it.
“Thank you.” It comes out smooth and polite. Lena touches her napkin and tries again. “When I’m at work, the makeup and business attire are my disguise. But in my own time? The glasses, the lack of makeup... That’s the disguise, you know? Hardly anyone recognizes me.”
Kara tilts her head to read the title of the book Lena plucked off the shelves. She turns it over gingerly to read the back cover, and Lena assumes, in a distant kind of way, that she’s going to change the subject, make her regret her attempt at connecting.
But Kara looks up with a tentative smile. Lena has no idea what she’s about to say, but relief washes over her anyway, like her body knows something she doesn’t. She imagines the flood of beta-endorphins tying themselves to her opioid receptors, right now, and producing analgesia.
She’s used to it, to her mind running parallel tracks, keeping up with conversations while dreaming of the fascinating properties of fungi and worrying about the paparazzi outside her hotel, or quarterly reports, or… Anything, really.
But Kara seems content to just observe her, doesn’t feed her a line to respond to, and Lena’s mind comes to an uncomfortable halt.
She wants to laugh, but she can’t let her nerves get the better of her. “What?” She asks softly.
Mirth is contagious, though, and Kara raises her hands in surrender with a little chuckle. “Sorry, I was just wondering… How about when you’re alone? Is there a disguise?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Lena takes another drink of water to buy herself a few seconds to think, to gather her courage. “Even when I’m alone, I feel watched. I’m not even sure there’s even an authentic self to be found, under all this, but it’s probably just my baggage talking.”
Kara nods, unfazed, like Lena didn’t just share something stupidly intimate with a stranger.
And Kara’s not saying anything, so Lena traces a deep, aged vein in the oak table and asks, for want of something to say, “What about you? When does Kara Danvers feel most like herself?”
Kara makes a face, something almost self-deprecating that twists her beautiful features into something unfamiliar.
“It’s going to sound bad,” She says slowly. “But when I make mistakes, when I’m at my worst, it feels right. Like I’m about to climb my way out of it.” She frowns a little. “I think I feel watched, too. But not judged. Just… watched over.”
Lena wonders what it’s like to feel like something, someone out there has your back, even and especially when everything is wrong.
“Sounds hopeful to me,” She ventures.
“Yeah… But sometimes, I worry that I’m becoming reliant on that. The hope part rather the actual feeling good part.” But before Lena can formulate her thoughts and respond, Kara lets out a short, embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry. I don’t usually talk about it.”
“Why not?”
Kara shrugs. The sun streaming in from the window catches in her hair. “I’m adopted, too. I feel possessive when it comes to my life before the Danvers took me in. My faith was part of that life. And so do my doubts, I guess, even though they came later.”
Lena’s afraid to ask the wrong thing. “How old were you? When you were adopted.”
“Thirteen.” Kara casts her an uncertain look. “You were four, right?”
Lena nods. She wants to reach out, take Kara’s hand, just briefly, but they don’t know each other nearly well enough. Still, Lena’s can’t remember the last time she wanted to touch someone else.
“I was. I remember that day, it—“ A waitress stops by their table to take their order. Lena gives her a polite nod and turns to Kara. “This is one of your haunts, right? What would you recommend?”
Kara bows her head. “When my sister and I come here for brunch, we usually order a bunch of things and share. Does that sound okay? A little bit of everything?”
Not for the first time, Lena notices how soft-spoken Kara is. She seems to make herself small in many ways.
Lena leans in a little to meet her eyes. “A little bit of everything sounds perfect.”
“Great. Do you have any allergies?”
Kara looks so serious. Lena bites back a smile, afraid it would be mistaken for condescension. “Yes, actually. Peanuts.”
Kara nods, turns to the waitress and orders for the two of them. The sun has warmed the worn, cracked leather of Lena’s armchair. It feels like a hot hand on her back as she relaxes into it. Jack used to order for her, too.
“People don’t often trust me when it comes to my taste in food. In anything, really,” Kara says once the waitress has left, a hint of playfulness to her voice, so gentle Lena almost misses it. “Ms. Grant thinks I don’t know what a salad is and hates about ninety per cent of my wardrobe.”
Lena folds her arms on the table. “Well, Cat Grant’s fashion sense is nothing to sneeze at, but as someone who’s made the cover of Vogue a couple of times, I hope my opinion holds some sway. And I happen to think your style is quite endearing.”
Was that inappropriate? Oh, god. Things get blurry, sometimes. The ease and smoothness she practices twelve hours a day at work bleed into the rest of her life. She holds her breath.
But Kara looks at her with harmless amusement, and her heart settles.
“I never know what to wear. My sister has to pick my outfit for me when I go on a date.” Kara shakes her head, eyes crinkling. “But thank you. You’re good at this.”
Lena cocks her head. “Good at what?”
“I was telling my sister—” Kara scrunches her nose. “Gosh, I should stop mentioning her all the time. But, um. The other day, I was telling her that not many people in your position would have given me the time of day.”
Lena’s toes curl. It’s the only thing she can do that Kara won’t see, won’t interpret as fidgeting. Can anyone be that sincere? Is Kara testing the waters, trying to figure out if Lena can give her something, or best case scenario, if they can help each other out?
She searches Kara’s face. “You make it easy. You’re kind, considerate.”
“So are you.” Kara smiles a bit. “What were you going to say, earlier? About the day you were adopted.”
Dropped topics and smooth subject changes, Lena can deal with. Circling back to intimate questions? That’s shaky ground.
“Right. Well, not many people know I wasn’t always a Luthor. I don’t remember much from before, it was just my mother and I. I’m not sure whether what I remember are true memories or fantasies I made up later on.”
“You were so little. I wasn’t, I remember so much.” Kara pokes at a napkin. “Do you wish you remembered more?”
Lena takes in a slow breath. “Do you wish you remembered less?”
Kara nods, has a drink of water, and the way she holds her glass, like she’s afraid to touch it… It reminds Lena of the first time they shook hands for Kara’s first interview at L-Corp. The light was blinding and Kara’s hold, barely there, weak and warm.
“My cousin was a baby when we lost our family. He doesn’t remember anything. He seems happier.”
And it gets to her. Not so much Kara’s answer, but the way she turned Lena’s stressed out deflection into an opportunity to let her in, for free. Very few things are for free, and Lena wonders what the hidden price is, but even so, it gets to her. It works. Maybe she’s just tired. So tired.
“Can I ask what happened? To your family, I mean.”
“Sure.” Kara clears her throat. “They all died in a fire. My parents, my cousin’s parents...” She looks up at Lena. “What about your mom? What happened?”
Lena traces the blunt edge of the knife on her side of the table. “She drowned. I was there, but I don’t know if it was an accident, or—”
They both startle when their waitress appears by their table. “There you go!”
Lena pushes the glasses and cutlery aside to make room for the food the waitress unloads from her tray. She leaves them with a cheerful Enjoy! and they look at each other, at a loss.
“Well,” Lena deadpans, “Her timing was impeccable.”
Kara laughs. A real laugh, bright and sudden.
~
Kara breathes out a sigh of relief when Lena doesn’t make a fuss about letting her pay.
They stand outside the café, Lena doesn’t say anything about returning the favor next time, and that makes Kara feel better. She can never tell if that’s just the expected line in the Hanging Out script, or if there really is going to be a next time. Her brain is cotton between her ears. She can deal with the café’s usual brouhaha, but after almost two hours, it’s a bit much. It’s better outside, although traffic is its own kind of background ruckus.
“That was really nice,” Lena says, and Kara tries to focus on her. “How did you find this place?”
Kara scratches her forehead. “I like walking. Going on walks, I mean. To clear my head. Last summer, I ended up here. I spent a whole afternoon reading and drinking lemonade and eating scones. I took Alex here for brunch the next weekend, and— ” She cuts herself off. She thought she’d become pretty good at limiting the word vomit to a minimum, or to Alex, at least. But Lena is sweet, and attentive, and it’s easy to overshare. “Anyway. It became my little hideout. Good food and books, that’s the way to my heart.”
“I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent huddled in libraries, growing up,” Lena says with a lovely smile. “At school, at university, in my family home. The Luthors have a mansion with a remarkable library. A cabinet of curiosities, really, full of rare editions. It was my favorite room.”
“Was? Do you not go there anymore?”
Lena shrugs. “With my brother and my mother in jail, I’ve pretty much inherited it, but... No, I haven’t gone back in a while. It’s not a happy place.” She makes a face. “Sorry. It’s grim.”
Kara shakes her head. “It’s okay. I’m no fun, either.” An ambulance blares its way down the avenue a couple of blocks away. She rubs her ear with her palm. It helps, makes these violent sounds recede into the background. “It comes with being an orphan, I guess.”
“You’re fun enough for me.” Lena seems to hesitate, gestures to her own ear. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, yes. My ears are just a bit... Sensitive.” Kara feels mortified. She takes a breath, tries to sound casual. “It was pretty noisy in there. I don’t usually stay that long when I come here with Alex. But it’s fine, I promise. I had a good time.”
Lena nods, eyes narrowed, and Kara wonders if she feels embarrassed. The way Alex used to, whenever Kara got twitchy and weird.
“If there’s a next time, we could go somewhere quieter? Or get takeout, go to a park.”
Kara’s first instinct is to downplay it, play it safe, play it normal. But it moves her, seeing Lena shift gears immediately, even though she doesn’t know the truth, doesn’t know the why of things.
She stuffs her hands in her jacket pockets. “That’d be great. I’d love it if there was a next time.”
Lena smiles again, warm, and so focused on her that Kara feels like a usurper. “Me, too.”