i woke with her walls around me.
Kara holds Lena’s hand, longer than she needs to, keeps it firm and locked between her fingers and tries not to pull, to disrupt the mutual silence of their recognition with something as stupid as a hug.
But Lena lets Kara hold her for that fraction extra, and Kara watches the green of her eyes and the way they take her in, regard her. She feels Lena’s gaze downright devour her, envelop her, and it's then that she lets go, that Lena’s mouth tightens and she poises herself.
That they remember who they are now instead of before.
Memories make a person, mold them, but Kara will not kid herself to believe her year with Lena shaped the sharp woman moving to sit at her desk, pen picked up and twirling between fingers.
“Please, Miss Danvers, sit,” Lena’s free hand gestures to the seat behind Kara, and she all but falls into it, clearing her throat, bouncing her foot.
She steels herself, remembers the notebook she brought with her, whips it out with a flourish and grins at Lena. She’s not sure what exactly she was hoping for, but the twitch of Lena’s lips warms in the centre of her chest, and she thinks maybe that’s enough for now.
Lena focuses on the feel of the pen, slips it through her fingers and she makes sure to register the cool touch of metal each time, counts to three with pursed lips to make sure her answers seem thought out, that she seems composed.
Because in all her time, Lena had never been so undone.
Kara’s voice is firm, hard-hitting and direct, she asks questions without thinking, scribbles notes furiously. There’s a scar, the tiniest dint that skews the furrow of Kara’s brows - Kara can scar, here, only once from what Lena can see but once is enough, and it hits her that for Kara to gain injury, something deep and permanent and lasting , it would have had to run red. It would have had to hurt .
She stutters, pen falling from her fingers, clattering on the desk and Kara looks up at the noise, cheeks rosy when her eyes meet Lena’s, bowing her head a moment later to adjust her glasses.
Kara looks back down to her notes, bottom lip caught between her teeth as Lena watches her try to word it more delicately, kinder.
“There are rumours about your press conference, the one taking place next week.”
Lena bristles, sits taller. “What do they say?”
“That it’s a PR move,” Kara is quick to recover, breathes harshly before her hand comes up so swiftly her pen flies from her hand, leaves a dent in the cabinet beside Lena’s desk. They both pretend not to notice. “Which, personally, is hard to believe. From initial statements, you seemed to be wanting to take LuthorCorp in the opposite direction. I mean, rebranding? Scrapping all previous blueprints for equipment and projects? It’s bold.”
“Well, thank you.” Lena exhales, sinks back into her chair. “The company needed a bold move, not only for the press, but - for myself. If I were to truly expand the company’s horizons, while leaving past actions behind us, sacrifices had to be made. This press conference is to ensure that the alien population know that L-Corp brings no harm, that their faith will not be betrayed.”
Kara nods, moves to write it down before remembering where her pen lies, smile turning into a grimace. Lena can't help but laugh, soft and low, and she watches Kara remember it, sees it wash over her.
She spins her chair, stands, flushes when she remembers she’d taken her heels off, bare feet padding on the carpet rug. Leaning against the front of her desk, hands resting either side of her hips, feeling the hair at the base of her neck rise when Kara stares at her.
She smiles, cocky and crooked, and hands Kara her own pen, lets it hang in the air between them before Kara takes it.
Kara jots it down, in pointed letters that Lena thinks look more like something Kara’s used to, English words slanted with hard pressed dots and crosses.
“Good - good quote,” Kara mumbles, and Lena isn’t sure if it's for her or Kara, so she nods anyway, hums and smiles, leans more solidly against her desk and when Kara raises her head again her bottom lip drops.
Lena relishes in it, smiles a little more slyly, runs a hand through her hair before arching a brow at Kara.
“Any more questions, Miss Danvers?”
Kara’s eyes glaze for a second, blinking as her fingers twitch around the pen, her leg jostling the notebook as it bounces.
“One,” Kara says, voice pitched. She clears her throat, tries again. “Just one, for now. My boss, he said not to ask you, because he thinks no one will care, but - I, I think people will.”
Lena softens, hands coming together in front of her, resting on her skirt.
“Go on,”
“Why take the company over?” Kara stops tapping the pen, lips scrunching. “To change direction, it's a big task , like, there would have been so much to do in the beginning, even now there still must be a lot to work on. And you’re smart, so I assume you would have known how much revenue this could have cost the company, how many anti-alien investors you would lose.”
Lena breathes, forces herself to stop once Kara’s perfume hits her, shakes her head to clear herself of it before she starts.
“It’s true, the overhaul has lost investors, we have lost quite a bit of standing in stocks and the funding we are given for research - I knew this was to be expected, especially the firing of many influential employees. But, as I said before,”
“Sacrifices had to be made.” Kara finishes for her, smiles when Lena nods.
“For the greater good, of both this company, and the alien population.” She looks at Kara, drinks her in from head to toe, sees the sun from the window shine on her like a halo, the shadow of Lena cast beside her. “You can’t live in fear, no one should have to . I took over this company to change it, to twist the fear my family had brought into this world.”
“To prove that Luthor is nothing to be feared?”
“My family deserve all that is fated to them.” Lena shakes her head, “Their actions brought terror, and incited violence. I can’t change what they’ve done. But, I can show what I can do, what my family’s science could have achieved.”
Kara looks at her, fond and warm and it pools in Lena’s chest, settles in the tips of her fingers like running ore. Kara, with the faith of an old friend, with the renewed hope of an alien, looks at Lena like she has spun gold.
For the first time since rebranding, Lena thinks maybe she has the chance to.
[14:09 to: Alex] I need donuts
[14:09 to: Alex] And potstickers
[14:09 to: Alex] And ice cream
[14:10 from: Alex] How long until you’re home?
[14:10 to: Alex] About forty seconds if I fly
[14:11 from: Alex] Kara
[14:12 to: Alex] Okay so that’s a no to the flying?
[14:12 to: Alex] I promise I’m still pretty good at it
[14:13 from: Alex] I bet you are
[14:13 from: Alex] But no flying, you know what Mom says
[14:14 to: Alex] “ Only if someone we love needs us”
[14:15 from: Alex] Exactly
[14:15 from: Alex] Now do you want the food in that order or are we emotionally eating until I have a stomachache and you ask for seconds?
[14:16 to: Alex] Silly question
[14:16 to: Alex] Really though, higher your expectations of us
[14:16 to: Alex] I’ll be on my thirds by then and we both know it x
//
Kara leaves her door unlocked, can hear Alex’s bike as she settles behind the kitchen island, pulls the chair opposite her out for Alex before she sits down.
Alex elbows her way in, arms weighed down by plastic bags and she stumbles over her feet, boots squeaking against the hardwood.
“Don’t help,” she says, rolls her eyes when Kara shrugs. “Not like you could lift all this one finger.”
Kara takes the bags from Alex just as she reaches the island, with only her index finger. She scrunches her nose at Alex, “Honestly, could do it with less than this.”
Alex blows out a laugh in a huff, walks towards the drawers to find cutlery.
“Showoff.”
Kara turns, holding the box of donuts. “I resent that.”
“You resent nothing.” Alex smiles, hip checks the drawer with spoons in her hand. She sits at the island, hands Kara one of the spoons. “You are literal sunshine, Kara Zor-El, you couldn’t hate anything or anyone even if you wanted to.”
Kara clicks her tongue, opens the box and picks a sugar dusted donut, takes out half of it in one bite because she’s not about to let Alex win by trying to prove her wrong.
“Thanks for these,” she says, mouth still full. “I needed it.”
Alex looks at her entirely too softly, “And why is that?”
Kara swallows, the chunk of donut going down whole, a lump in her throat that’s turned sour and Kara feels like she should be happy, that being able to see Lena again would be something like stars exploding and planets forming.
And yet, somehow, it's a gnawing sort of want. Now that she knows Lena is here, is real and within reach - it's too much, but not enough. It sticks to her, the kind of desperate need to see her and just be around her, so that Lena knows she’s real, too.
Alex pinches her shoulder, and she humours her by flinching.
“Snapper sent me out on a job today,” she starts, takes her glasses off to rub at her nose. “Both Clark and Cat recommended it to him, and the rest of the team was all doing their own thing with their stories and.”
“And?” Alex dusts her fingers off, crooks a brow at Kara. “Don’t tell me you blew your cover.”
“No. No, I,” and she wells up without even thinking about it, without even knowing why. “It was about the press conference, you know the one?”
Alex nods, leans further down the table and softens her voice. “Yeah we’re patrolling it, no aliens are going to be hurt, Kara.”
“Thank you, but that’s not,” she breathes, feels it sting hard and sharp in her throat. “Do you know who’s holding it?”
“The press conference?” Alex asks, Kara nods. “The new owner of L-Corp, but, Kara, I don’t - oh. ”
Kara sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, stops it from wobbling but Alex rounds the island before she can even blink and has her arms wrapped around Kara’s shoulders, runs a hand over her spine over and over until Kara can zero in on it, focus on that instead of the pain behind her eyes.
“It’s her , Alex,” she says, clenches her jaw and holds onto the stool instead of Alex, just in case. “It’s her and I swear she knew it was me, but she didn’t - it was the same but it was so different .”
Alex gives her another squeeze, leans back to leverage herself with Kara.
“You’ve both grown up,” she tells Kara, moves the hair from her face. “You’ve both been through a lot since you’ve seen each other. Maybe she’s just trying to figure it all out, her family did kind of leave her high and dry, so.”
Kara nods, places her hands on top of Alex’s wrists, squeezes as gently as she can.
“She’s still so brave .”
Alex nudges her, makes sure Kara is paying full attention when she smiles, hopeful and adoring and Alex , “So are you.”
The leather of her new couch settles against the back of her knees, plush and full but sticky, like her skin would peel away at the slightest movement. Perhaps she doesn’t feel at home in her skin, not tonight, not when Kara had crawled her way back underneath it with just one look .
Lena promised herself she wouldn’t let it get to her, that the love of her life hadn't stumbled into her office, that she hadn't felt like she was a teenager again - that neither of them were bumbling their way back into adulthood, reminding themselves that they’ve changed.
The whiskey in her hand has grown warm, ice melted, watered down alcohol swirling as she rotates her wrist back and forth.
Tomorrow, she is to stand before a podium, in front of all those her brother had wronged. She wants so badly to move on, to move forward, for the aliens to trust her because - well, is she really a Luthor anyway?
Would her father be proud, or would he wish for her to throw it all under the rug and move to a remote island with her inheritance, rather than to face the possibility of violent protest?
The sound of traffic filters through her balcony door, askew to let fresh air in. It does nothing but flush her cheek and make her nose turn rosy. She thinks maybe, if she focuses hard enough, Kara’s perfume lingers in her office, swathed by the breeze.
It's foolish, really, to be more nervous about Kara reporting the press conference than the actual people who wish for her family’s demise, than her supporters, than the reporters and journalists that will ask far harder questions than Kara would.
But, foolishness in the face of Kara was never new, an old habit, an automatic reaction that sweeps from her toes to the tip of her tongue, settles in her stomach and sends frost down her back.
Tomorrow, she is to stand before a podium.
Tonight, she is to dream of the girl with eyes like the stars and hair like the sun.
Her knees are still weak, hands still wrought tight around the edges of the podium, heart in her throat because - because she did it , she gave her speech, she answered their questions. She stood boldly before them, stood unapologetically, with her chin held the way her father taught her, back straight and refined the way Lillian had.
A hand reaches for the sky in front of her, fingers pointed and bicep rippling with the muscle underneath and Lena has to swallow before she speaks.
“One last question, Miss Danvers?”
Kara, only metres in front of her, nods, ponytail bouncing and glasses edging down her nose. Lena tries not to smile.
“Last one, Miss Luthor, I’m sure you have plenty more business to attend to.”
Tries being the operative word.
“Nothing that can’t wait,” she watches Kara’s jaw ease at her words, hopes she catches the lines for her to read between. “Go ahead.”
Kara’s shoulders widen as she stands taller, clears her throat, and Lena can't help but melt at Kara playing reporter, at playing nerdy human, at Kara still being Kara .
“Is there a closing statement you’d like to make, one that would be able to sum up all that you have mentioned here today, and your goals towards the future?”
She loosens her fingers on the podium, nods at Kara, closes her eyes as she feels the flashes of harsh magazine cameras wash over her. Looking back up, three news stations are focused on her, and she knows damn well that she’s live on at least two of them.
She sets her jaw, blinks twice, leans towards the microphone to make sure she is never misinterpreted again.
“I will not bear the sins of my family,” she starts, licks her lips and poises herself the way Lex used to, the same as he did when he finally beat her at chess, when he finally baked something that didn’t burn. “They are wounds on this company. Moving forward, L-Corp is to be a company of change, of acceptance , of-”
She doesn’t get to finish, a sharp sting in her ears settles before the tremor of an explosion. She's thrown backwards, and she hears the click of her wrist before she feels it, hears everyone else’s screams before her own.
There are people running, in every direction, in every possible way to get out . She sees swarms of officers ushering people to safety, dressed in all black and - oh .
Lex.
It grates in her mind, grinds on her teeth until she tastes copper. He still has supporters - of course he does, of course of course of course.
The pain in her wrist doubles as she stands, rests against the podium before rushing towards the attendees, tries to move them the same way the officers are.
Something tugs at her scalp, tugs hard and she screams, yanked to the floor and she doesn't even get to blink before there’s a man, muscled and burly and armed staring holes into her.
He raises his gun at her, levelled and unafraid, and he has the nerve to fucking smile at her.
“Lex sends his regards,”
She scrunches her eyes shut, wishes she hadn't predicted her death going like this, like some cliche TV show, like she’s been made an enemy of the public and her own family.
She hears the trigger, the bang of his rifle - but feels no bullet.
Something wraps around her, something like steel, something like home .
//
Kara touches down onto carpet she knows she shouldn’t be wearing shoes on, let alone in boots heavy with her weight. Her arms are shaking, she’s shaking, every possibility of Lena being hurt or - or worse still running through her mind.
But Lena, Lena is here, she’s here she’s in Kara’s arms and she’s safe. She’s safe she’s safe she’s safe.
She opens the balcony door with the edge of her foot, wide enough to let them both in, with the speed of a blur, just in case journalists managed to track them.
Setting Lena down, just in front of her desk, she stammers backwards, feet awkward, like she’s learning the gravity of Earth all over again.
“Is it okay if I lower the blinds?” She asks, low and soft.
Lena nods, barely, shifts her head towards a remote by her laptop. Kara pads over, assured and slow with a heart faster than a hummingbird, presses the button that resembles curtains the most, feels the sun lose some of its energy in her skin as the room darkens.
She steps out of Lena’s space after placing the remote back down, gives her a good three feet between them. Just in case. Boundaries and respect are what Lena deserves, what Lena needs after all this time.
Lena looks up at her then, eyes welled and wet like springtime, and Kara feels the pillars of her chest collapse.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked but,” she breathes, raspy and shaky and she knows Lena heard because Lena is staring right at her lips, jolting back to her eyes and she watches Lena soften at that. “But you were in danger and-”
“They shot you.” Lena says, firm, points at the hole in Kara’s sweater, at the untouched patch of skin that lie beneath. “They - you’re hurt.”
Kara shakes her head, “I’m okay. Bullets don’t really work, remember?”
Kara is floored when Lena hugs her, fast and bruising and Kara’s entire universe skews on its axis because Lena smells different, smells bolder and more floral but she smells like Lena - like ink and the metal of rings and fresh laundry and, and-
She wraps her arms around Lena’s waist, hoists her off the ground, makes sure to hug the way Alex had taught her, with enough love to bloom flowers but not harm human skin.
She’s not ready to let Lena go, not just yet, but lowers her when there’s a kiss pressed to her cheek, when Lena’s back arches to inch away from her. The three feet between them has turned to less than one, Lena’s eyes bright with something Kara’s yearned to see for years.
“Was that a thank you?” Kara asks, a drop of laughter at the end of her sentence.
Lena’s smile turns toothy, and Kara has to press her glasses further up her nose to focus on something that isn't their heartbeats.
“That was I’ve missed you.”
Kara feels herself soften, shoulders slumping as her grin turns lopsided. She holds her arms out, waggles her eyebrows and Lena laughs before falling into them, loud and brash and Kara thinks maybe Lena hasn’t laughed like that for as long as Kara hasn’t heard it.
Lena’s warmth is more present now, Kara making sure to register each and every thing. She buries her face in the crook of Lena’s shoulder, body curving around her and she listens to Lena’s pulse quicken, squeezes a little tighter.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
//
The sun pooling in her chest is what wakes Kara up, contented heat spreading over her as she leans up. Her skin sticks a little to whatever she’s lying on, a blanket she’s never seen before shucking to her waist as she sits up.
She’s still in yesterday’s clothes, arms bare without her sweater. She blinks, breathes, takes in her surroundings.
Lena’s office - well, heck.
She stands, blanket falling to the floor. She picks it up, haphazardly folds the black fabric and pushes it to the corner of the couch. The carpet is soft on her bare feet, her eyes darting around before settling on her boots, beside Lena’s desk, her socks balled up, sticking out of her left boot.
Scrambling toward them, she leaps to the floor, squeezes her feet into her socks before jamming herself into the boots.
She’s so dead, Rao she is so dead . Lena probably thinks she’s an idiot, a lovesick idiot who fell asleep in her old crush’s freaking office because she didn't want to go home - because catching up and laughing and Lena offering her whiskey before remembering Kara is a damn Kryptonian somehow trumped binge-watching Netflix with three day old Chinese leftovers.
Of course it did, of course it did. How could it not?
Kara hits her head on Lena’s desk as she rises, nearly falling back onto the ground with the force of it. There’s the slightest crack in the corner - yep, definitely dead.
She hears something rustle, looks beyond the crack to see a brown paper bag, the Noonan’s logo printed on the front. There’s the slightest hint of grease slicking the bottom of the bag - its fresh.
Which means Lena had only just left, which means she’d seen Kara asleep. Most likely sleeptalking, most likely floating from the air Lena leaves in her chest.
Kara tries not to think of Lena watching her, of her soft and small smile and the way she would have tucked the blanket over Kara with a reverence she hasn’t experienced in years.
There’s a note, next to the bag, complete with Lena’s handwriting and a sugary fingerprint. It sits on top of her sweater, the hole in the chest sewn over with almost the same pastel it's made from.
‘This is the beginning of thank you,
Xx’
Kara feels her heart swell in her chest, a lump in her throat that quickly moves to her stomach as she opens the bag. Donuts, eleven of them, each a different flavour.
Kara remembers the creaky bed of the old home, the mildew in the corner of the wall - how Lena had asked, young and blindingly intrigued, what her favourite flavour was. She remembers how she’d told Lena she could never decide, that they were all wonderful; how Lena had laughed before scooting over to sit beside her, to hold her hand and tell her she’d get one of every flavour if she had to.
It pricks at her eyes, small and steady but it's there - Lena remembers as much as she does, Lena remembers everything .
The force of it hits Kara so hard, so fast , that she has to pile everything in her arms, has to kick off from the balcony into the sky, has to leave before she decided she never wanted to.
Alex is waiting for Kara at her apartment, jaw clenched, spare keys dangling over her fingers as she stops spinning them.
Kara sighs, toes her boots off as she throws her sweater over the back of her couch. She meets Alex at the dining table, sits across from her and bows her head.
“Before you start, I know what you’re thinking.”
“That’s nice, because I’d like to know damn well what you were thinking when you revealed yourself to three - not one, not two, but three live broadcasts.”
Kara grumbles, balls her hands into fists.
“I wasn't thinking, okay? You know I wasnt.” She breathes, lets the exhale come long and slow to steady herself. “It was Lena’s press conference. It wasn't some hotshot who doesn't deserve exposure, it was-”
“So you think your entire secret is worth being exposed for a childhood crush,” Alex crinkles her brow then, knows she’s gone too far, regrets it and opens her mouth to continue but Kara doesn’t let her, can't let her.
“If it wasn't her, it was going to be you. Or Eliza. Or Winn or James or - or anyone that I care about. This secret, it's who I am , Alex. I can’t change it, but I can change what happens to the people I love, I can stop people from hurting others, I can save people, Alex.”
Alex gnaws at her bottom lip, shakes her head.
“You sound like Clark,” she laughs, a little bitter, a little sombre. “This - it's too dangerous, Kara.”
Kara stands then, chair thrown back behind her. Her hands hit the table, a perfect dent of her fists but Alex doesn't flinch, doesn't hesitate or back down.
“It's more dangerous for Lena. For you.” She paces, stops just short of the couch. “You’re not bulletproof, you can’t fly and, sure, guns are great and money and bodyguards are great but you and everyone else, you're all human .”
“That doesn't mean you need to play hero, Kara!” Alex rushes to her, gives her space but stands firm and sure. “Clark nearly died being Superman, you want to risk it all by being what, Superwoman?”
Kara sighs, takes her glasses off to rub between her eyes.
“Yesterday, helping Lena - saving her - it, it was nice. It felt good, felt like I was good. Not like I was some alien with an ancient secret. It felt right , its what my parents sent me here for. To help. To carry on Krypton, to make sure it doesn’t die with Kal and I.”
Alex nods then, sharp and blurred a little in Kara’s eyes. She wrings her hands together, and Kara pretends not to notice them shaking.
“Okay,” she says, nods again. “Okay. I know I can’t stop you, and I know - I know this is the right thing, that it's what your parents and, and Dad would have wanted. But don't think Mom will be okay with this, because she’s going to give you hell to pay when you tell her.”
Kara laughs, relief flooding over her. She presses into Alex, hugs her sister, thanks her for understanding in a way words can't.
She sniffles, pretending to feel it when Alex punches her arm, pulls her onto the couch when she calls her a nerd.
She fiddles with the remote, hands it to Alex to find something to watch.
“Pizza’s on me, tonight.”
Alex’s grin is sly, and Kara doesn't get the chance to question it before there’s a pillow slamming hard into her face.
“It’d wanna be, I can’t afford your metabolism.”
Kara feigns hurt, clenches at her heart. “You think my reporter wage can?”
Alex waggles an eyebrow, thumb dancing over the remote.
“Maybe your rich and powerful girlfriend can help you out.”
Kara hurls the pillow back at Alex so hard she winces when it makes contact.
Things move a little quicker than Kara’s mind can wrap around, James and Winn recognising her blurry pastels even at the speed of light, James offering to teach her how to fight, Winn designing a suit and dubbing her Superbabe within seconds.
He drops the name after Kara finds it offensive. He’s good like that.
Kara flashes her prototype suit at three bank robberies before Cat Grant, Queen of All Media, names the blonde in red and blue Supergirl . Kara wants to be mad, wants to think it's a bit childish, but once Cat tells her - tells Kara - how empowering it can be, and that Kara would get to write the expose article herself - well, how could she resist?
Lena emails her after the article is leaked, tells her that her prose is ‘ gorgeous’ , and that she has inside access to any future interviews required of L-Corp. Kara thanks her, tells her she’s very grateful, and if she drops a byline of how interested she’d be in access to Lena herself, she doesn’t make a big deal about it.
//
Alex does.
Alex makes a very big deal. Because Lena has offered her genius, has offered to assist with the final completion of her suit, alongside a,
‘PS - you're welcome to fly by my office any time xx’
And Kara wants to tell Alex she’s reading too much into it, but Alex keeps pointing out the kisses at the end of the sentence, the way Lena’s phone number is hastily added at the end - “not an afterthought,” Alex had told her, “clearly she’d wanted to add it the whole time, but there was no smooth way to do it so her Gay Panic took over” .
Kara nearly laughs, before her own panic takes over because Lena wants to finish her suit, wants to see Supergirl in her armour, wants to change Winn’s skirt to tights and to make her cape a little shorter so she doesn’t trip up on it. She wants to make suits for every necessity, wants to make it more accessible under Kara’s clothes, automated to fit to her body seamlessly under her button ups and jeans.
Kara can't help but wonder the amount of thought Lena’s put into it all, if she’d thought of the things that go along with suit-making. The measuring, the getting up close, the fact that they’d be in a shared and small space, soundproofed, for long periods of time.
Kara almost asks Alex to chauffer, because she’s not entirely sure she could handle such proximity with Lena for more than ten minutes, not without caving - without being thirteen and rose coloured and so, so in love with Lena all over again.
Alex tells her she’ll be fine, walks her to the desk in front of Lena’s office, speaks for her when her mouth fails her.
Alex pats her on the back when Lena’s assistant announces she’s ready for her, gives her a thumbs up and tells her to text her when she’s ready to come home.
She breathes, focuses all her energy into pushing Lena’s door open, thinks of texting Alex as soon as vanilla candles and Lena hit her senses all at once.
Rao, she is so dead.
Kara hovers in the doorway, swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet and Lena can’t help but smile at her, gestures vaguely with her free hand.
“Please, Kara, take a seat wherever you’d like.”
Kara opts for the couch, of course she does, and Lena stands from her desk - it would be rude not to join Kara, her mother’s harsh teachings echoing in her ears, “Be courteous to your guests” .
Kara shuffles back as Lena eases down onto the couch, and Lena can see the way Kara’s throat bobs, the way that one tendon tightens, her hands coming together, fingers tangling. Lena doesn’t point it out.
“I need your numbers,” she says, watches Kara’s brows knit together and a flush rise to her cheeks before she realises what she’s done. “Your, um. You’re stats, those numbers.”
“Oh,” Kara starts to breathe again, Lena wishes she hadn’t forgotten herself.
Lena looks down at her hands while Kara fishes something from her back pocket, flicks one nail against the other until there’s a piece of paper (a napkin?) thrust into her view.
She looks back up at Kara, at her soft eyes and small smile and, god , she was never really going to get over her, was she?
“My friend, Winn, was so excited you wanted these,” Kara starts, and Lena tries not to stare when Kara licks her lips. “He’s nerdy, also possibly in love with my cousin.”
Lena takes the paper from Kara, looks over the calculations for a second before realising her hand, Kara’s hand, is touching hers.
Kara must know, too, because she’s looking straight at Lena, straight through Lena. Soft eyes now determined, firm and deep and - oh , Kara’s run a finger over her thumb.
Lena stammers, opens her mouth twice before getting a mere sentence out.
“I’ll have to print him a copy of this, then.” She says, barely makes it to her desk without falling over, head light and vision swaying.
Lena turns her laptop around, a bad (great?) move once Kara sidles up behind her, practically breathes down her fucking neck and - does she even know she’s doing this to Lena? Surely, she must because Kara’s pretending she can’t even see the screen, that her powers must be failing her because she’s leaning closer .
“Are those Kal’s numbers?”
Lena nods, brings her lips together and breathes before she speaks.
“I found an encrypted file while purging all the old LuthorCorp data, seems my brother kept numbers on Superman himself.”
“That would explain his obsession with our powers, then.” Kara mumbles it, so close to Lena’s neck that she can practically feel it, goosebumps rising, skin flushing. When Kara sidesteps to face her, Lena both wants to thank every god ever, and damn them. “Wait, is this why you wanted to help with my suit?”
Lena nods, doesn’t look up from the screen, can't . She’s not ready, not to face Kara, not yet.
“Based off your and your cousin’s numbers, I can find an average base point for the threshold your suit can take. Which, um, my hypothesis was correct - for once.” She rubs at the back of her neck, free hand reaching for the small remote next to her laptop.
Kara holds it like a foreign object, “This is tiny.”
Lena shrugs, “It only needed one button.”
Kara’s nose scrunches, fingers pressing down on the button and Lena waits for a gasp or a squeal or something to get an indication of Kara’s feelings.
She laughs. Kara laughs, loud and strong and before Lena knows left from right she’s pulled tight against Kara’s side.
“Couldn’t just have it hanging on a mannequin, could you?”
Lena quirks her lips, sinks a little into Kara’s side as she walks. The suit is there, revealed in its glory, bright red and blue now darker, tights and armour instead of a skirt and a belt. More like her aunt and uncle’s old war uniform. But the crest is still there, the one thing that mattered to Kara, she kept.
“What can I say? I still have a flair for the dramatics.”
Kara grins wide at her, then, eyes squinted in that playful way Lena’s missed and missed and missed .
“All you Luthors do.”
Lena melts, knows Kara means well, means the Luthor she knew - tiny, teenage Lena, Lena with glasses and wavy hair, Lena without makeup but with so much promise to the world.
With so much promise to her .
The first thing Kara notices about her new suit is that, well, it's a lot tighter than Winn’s design. Tights and leather and spandex, unsurprisingly, do not allow as much breathing room as the modified, bullet-proof cotton of her skirt. She likes this suit more, though, it’s much more practical, much more heroic, much less likely to make her enemies mock her or underestimate her.
Lena assures her it’ll loosen up when she wears it frequently, “like a good pair of new jeans” , she’d said.
Besides, if Lena keeps looking at her like that - well, who is Kara to complain about that one itch in her back the suit creates?
Kara snaps back to reality when she sees Lena’s lips moving. Words, those are words. Okay.
“-four controls, I’ve put them in easily accessible places, so no one who doesn’t know, will never know.”
Kara nods, doesn't speak, not when Lena is stepping forward, putting less distance between them. Not when her perfume floods Kara’s nose, when her eyes are so green and so close that Kara finds it hard to breathe, let alone think.
“The first control is here,” Lena says, points to the middle of her chest, the apex of her family crest. “This is the one that melds your suit to your body. Don’t freak out, it won’t itch or go tighter than usual. It stretches to do it, actually.”
“And that’s for?” Kara pretends her voice didn’t break at the end of her sentence, that the fact Lena’s pushing the button, two fingers close to her heartbeat - it’s distracting, to say the least.
“So your cape doesn’t stick out of your reporter pants and you get figured out.”
Kara huffs, somewhere between incredulity and a laugh.
Lena manages to get even closer, hands on Kara’s hips and Kara’s mind practically swims . Lena surrounds her entirely, her perfume her lotion her shampoo, her eyes her fingers her pulse her heartbeat, she’s everywhere .
Kara has to remind herself to not start floating.
“These act as costume changes,” she taps her fingers on Kara’s left hip, and Kara ignores the way her heartrate jumps to match Lena’s. “The left is to contract your cape, and to project a hood, should you need it for stealth.”
Kara inhales, shaky and lost. “And the right?”
Lena pushes the button, and Kara jumps at the noise her suit makes - clang after clang until she’s wide eyed and staring at Lena through a visor.
“More armour.” Lena explains simply, her face falling when she finishes. “Sorry, I forgot how loud it could be - I’ll tweak that before you debut, I promise.”
Kara shakes her head, presses her hand over Lena’s, retracts the armour until she's Kara again - Kara with her suit, with her crest, almost entirely her , entirely Kryptonian .
“The last one,” Lena runs her fingers down the length of Kara’s forearm, slow and reverent and Kara nearly shakes , “is a call signal. So far I’ve only programmed three numbers into it, but if you want me to add your friends, I’m more than happy to.”
“What are the three numbers?”
Lena turns over Kara’s hand, something like a mouse’s wheel just underneath the wrist of her suit. She scrolls, the names hovering, fluorescent holographs above her arm.
“Your sister, of course,” Lena starts, scrolls down, “The Department of Extranormal Operations, which I’m sure your sister is dying to tell you all about.” Kara doesn't dwell on what Lena means by that , because the third name is there, and Kara’s eyes could be playing tricks but she swears that name shines brighter than all the others.
“You.”
Lena nods, makes a move to step away from her, but Kara’s hand is holding hers, threading their fingers together and Kara wants to know why she’s doing that, knows she didn’t tell her body to do that and Lena is staring at their hands and - yikes, she should let go.
She doesn't.
“Yeah,” Lena says, clears her throat. “Me. You know, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case you,” Lena’s hand is shaking, Kara doesn’t tell her. “In case you need adjustments to your suit, or, um.”
Kara tilts her head, hunches her shoulders to see Lena’s eyes.
“In case I need you?”
Lena sighs, nods, scrunches her eyes shut, brows together.
“In case you need me.”
Kara feels a smile creeping up, breaking her cheeks and tightening her chest.
“And if that means, I don't know, say an ice cream emergency. Or, because I miss you?”
“If you need me,” Lena doesn’t hesitate, still doesn’t look at Kara. “I’m there, Kara.”
Kara tugs, just a little, just enough to make Lena’s hand meet hers fully, enough to feel the blood race through Lena’s body.
“What if I miss you right now?”
Lena stares at her then, eyes big and bold and the way Kara remembers them being the night they first flew.
“But I’m here,” Lena says, reaches her free hand to Kara’s chest. Maybe to push away, maybe the way her fingers drag down the crest say different.
Kara feels the weight of Lena’s words break down all her resolve, the cinder blocks between her ribs now rubble, dust, everything leaves and takes her precaution with it.
“Lena, I,” she leans in, her mind swirling, body out of her control.
Her eyes dart to Lena’s lips, glossy and pink, teeth she remembers clacking against hers in chaste and dreamy teenage kisses, the bottom lip she’d capture between her own, the way Lena would pout until Kara kissed her or scratched the base of her neck when she was stressed.
Her whole body freezes, suit tightening so fast that she actually falls . She hears the contact of body on a wall, but only feels it in her hands and forearms.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she hears Lena’s voice, shakes her head to clear it. “I must have pushed the button by accident when you got closer - I can’t believe I-”
Kara laughs, low and fragile. “It’s okay, I’m just glad I didn’t crush you.”
Lena pouts, eyes shooting up to Kara’s arms - either side of her, above her shoulders and, oh boy .
“I’m going to need to call a repairman, aren’t I?”
Kara lowers her hands, feels plaster fall free from underneath. She winces, nods.
“Sorry,” she says, but Lena isn’t pouting anymore, isn’t even looking at anything in particular. Her eyes are fully enclosed on Kara, and - and maybe Kara’s mouth?
Lena’s breath hitches, Kara hears it, has the sound memorised, replays it in her head to replace the old one.
“I,” Kara’s words catch in her throat. Can she even say it, after all this time? Lena owes her nothing. Kara owes her honesty. “I want to kiss you.”
Lena’s tongue darts over her lips, Kara feels her knees begin to buckle.
“I wouldn’t stop you.”
Kara clenches at the wall, feels it crumble in her fingers. Feels her power, knows she’s trapping a human between her arms right now, knows that Lena is Lena and that Kara can't hurt her, won't hurt her - it’s why she left in the first place.
She steps backwards, grinds the plaster to dust in her fingers - knows that could be Lena, could be Alex, could be anyone who isn’t part of a legacy like hers.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, and it stings . Stings the same way it all has before, as she sits in a musty bedroom, stands on the porch of a home that wasn't ever really hers, as she gets into a car she’d never seen. “I can’t. Not like this, not yet.”
Lena nods, stands taller. More composed, refined.
Less Lena .
“I understand.”
“No, Lena, I,” she slows herself, rests her hands on Lena’s shoulders. “I want to. Rao knows I’ve wanted to since I left. But, things are a mess, there’s so much going on and I want it to be when I’m not Supergirl or Kara Danvers.”
Lena opens her eyes then, soft and knowing.
“When you’re Kara Zor-El.”
Kara nods, eyes warm and wet as she pulls Lena in for a hug.
Lena runs her hands down Kara’s back, crooks her head into the space between Kara’s shoulders.
Kara lets out a shuddering breath, kisses Lena’s cheek, feels the weight of a world release - just for a moment, floats in effervescent bliss while in Lena’s arms, while Lena holds her like Kara’s the one who could shatter.
“When I’m Kara Zor-El.”