Lena II
Lena pulls her coat tighter. This must be the one actually chilly night Southern California will have this year.
She starts towards the valet's podium but hesitates.
Call her limo or drive herself home.
Her dilemma every time she steps out of her house. She's out of practice. For almost a year months, her work for the DEO to leverage Harun-El for their human troops has meant being escorted to work by Supergirl or a company of DEO troops.
Lena's never been one hundred percent comfortable using a driver service. One more person who can betray her. She's also smart enough to know when she has to. Any social setting that might stress her out (that is, almost all of them) might lead to impulsive behavior that tickles the underside of the iconic Luthor alcoholism.
Tonight she's easily sober enough to drive. Thanks to Kara's appetite and her desire to be near her girlfriend, Lena actually ate a meal. What the other patrons must have thought of Lena Luthor stepping into a pathetic, if up-to-code Chinese joint of the sort that framed its A rating from the Board of Health. Kara naturally knew the name of the place, mandarin pronunciations of the dishes, and the name of every employee.
She has an actual meal and a half-glass of champagne in her system. Better than her usual Tuesday night by miles. Maybe she should have a near-miss total heartbreak every day.
She could click the remote and summon her car. Ten to fifteen minute wait while it blithely navigated the streets and paying a fine to the state of California for the use of self-driving cars on public streets. Payable on the web. No one in her income bracket sees that as a fine. It's a tax.
Lena taps the jury-rigged smartwatch on her wrist.
"HOPE?"
"Yes, Miss Luthor?"
"How far am I from my building?"
"One point one eight six miles."
"One and a quarter would be a more typical phrasing, HOPE."
"Noted."
Lena chews her cheek while she thinks. She goes into her pocket for the beta-test obsidian lenses Andrea gave her.
"Walking directions, please. All other projections disabled."
"Projecting now."
A golden thread appears in her vision, skirting the heavily-lit edge of the dog park before disappearing among canyons of steel, concrete, and glass in the business district.
Each of the streetlights is domed in some fully reflective coating and spills nothing up.
In the small gaps between, Lena can look up and take in a clear, starry night. Half the buildings are completely dark and the lights in the rest dimmed to a few percent. The energy-saving initiative the mayor's pushing was wickedly unpopular until Supergirl arrived on the scene. Five years later, it's more popular than she is by thirty points. Turning the lights off at night means more stars. It means a greater chance of glimpsing the city's savior as a swift shadow across the twinkling sky.
When a young mother smiles at her and her little boy squeals 'Miff Duthor!' through a missing front tooth, Lena barely remembers to react like an actual human being.
She's standing at the corner of her block before she remembers why the little boy knew her. He had a Crane Elementary sweater. The Pelicans, if Lena remembers right. After the ribbon-cutting ceremony, she did an entirely-for-show book reading in his school's newly-refurbished library. In retrospect, she wonders if the kids didn't realize it was damage control PR to humanize her in the middle of the Human Enhancement Project debacle after Lex got ahold of Harun-El. Maybe they just thought an adult was reading to them.
The thread she's been following with her feet leads up to Howard, her doorman. Somewhat disconcertingly, HOPE has recognized that Lena always shakes his hand so the thread tangles in his fingers.
Sassy for an AI.
She shakes off the daydreams of the robot uprising, forces as much of a smile as she can, and walks up. Howard is a grizzly-bear sized fellow. Maybe sixty. Round bellied and big-boned with a neatly trimmed goatee.
"Evening, Miss Luthor."
"Good evening."
She looks down at her own outstretched hands and his still in his jacket.
"Do I have something on my face?" she jokes.
"No, miss. Just finished my dinner and figured you wouldn't want to wash your hands first."
"Oh?"
"That girl of yours? She came in about ten minutes ago. All smiles. Chocolates, flowers, bottle of wine. You have a nice night."
He taps in her code and her personal door unlocks, revealing an armored glass tube that leads directly to her elevator.
"You too, Howard. Her name is Kara, by the way."
Lena snorts in surprise before pressing the elevator button.
She must really want to fix things. She named the puppy. She told someone Kara's name. Only once before has she admitted another woman was courting her and told someone their name.