My fiancee my fiancee my fiancee, two words, constantly playing on repeat in Lena’s mind.
She’d refused Kara’s accidental proposal in favor of planning something worthy of her lovely Kryptonian, but there was no way Lena was about to correct the blonde. No, Lena would just have to move fast and make it a reality.
Sure, she cheated a little bit, already making plans with Kara about wedding details, but she’s only human, and when Kara looks at her with puppy-dog eyes talking about potential wedding menus - well, she can’t be blamed for breaking a few Kryptonian rules. She can’t say no to Kara, but she still wants to do this the right way.
Her lawyers had already drafted up the courtship contract. Now she just has to present it.
No big deal.
It’s only her happiness on the line. Her future. It could all go away with one refusal from Kara’s adoptive mother. Or sister. Or cousin.
Fuck.
She chugs the chamomile tea Jess ordered for her against her will (probably not how you’re supposed to drink calming tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures) and checks the mirror one more time.
Not a hair out of place.
She grabs the contract and the neatly folded garment, making sure not to forget anything crucial.
She takes a deep breath and heads to the door, straightening her red and blue print dress the best she can. It’s a custom piece, easily the most expensive clothing she owns now, more resplendent than anything she usually wears to galas. It’s supposed to be.
The guidelines she’d had Kara write out for her were very clear. The garment she wears to announce her attentions has to be several things - a show of wealth or ability to craft something fine, a show of willingness to merge their families (hence the House of El red and blue), and finally, there has to be a matching component of some sort to be gifted to the intended.
She presses the doorbell, holding her breath as she hears the soft thud of footsteps behind it.
“Lena,” the woman who opens the door says, a tinge of surprise to her voice, but not much. It’s as if Lena had simply showed up early to a party instead of showing up entirely out of the blue on a Thursday afternoon.
She really hopes Eliza knows the customs, or Lena is about to sound batshit crazy.
“Eliza of House Danvers, mother of Kara Zor-El, scion of the House of El,” she wouldn’t normally introduce herself like this, obviously, but the extremely rehearsed words are necessary before she’s technically allowed to enter the home.
Eliza raises an eyebrow at her, her face transforming from guarded surprise to a smirk that rivals Alex’s. Now she knows where she got it from.
“I was wondering when to expect you. Come in, suitor,” Lena exhales a breath of relief as she steps in the doorway. Okay, so Eliza knows what’s happening. One less thing to freak out over.
She hands Eliza the formal declaration of intent, about forty-two pages (Lena’s lucky number) of blended Kryptonian and human contractual garble describing everything from what type of home Lena intends to provide for Kara to how many children Lena is open to.
Eliza grins at the sight of the hefty contract, grabbing a set of reading glasses from the coffee table and settling into the very squashy looking couch. So that’s where Kara got her taste in furniture.
“Grab yourself a drink from the kitchen and then have a seat. Looks like I’ll be reading for a while,” she says amiably, gesturing towards a doorway.
Lena nods, the anxiety of the moment seizing her throat. Maybe a drink is a good idea.
____________________________________________________________________________
Kara answers Alex’s call on the first ring. She’s bored, flying over the city hoping idly for a nice robbery or break-in…not that she wants crime to happen, but if it does, she’s ready.
“Kara, why is Lena’s car parked outside of Mom’s house?” Alex says, skipping over polite hellos.
Kara drops a few feet in the air. “Are you sure it’s hers?”
Alex scoffs, “You’re kidding, right? Who else do you know that owns a vintage Ferrari?”
Kara is already flying towards Midvale, her body apparently making the decision before her mind catches up.
“Do you know what’s going on? What am I about to walk into?” Alex presses her, but Kara is too nervous to answer. She ends the call, speeding up until the world blurs around her.
“Kara?” Alex asks from below her a split second later.
Kara stares at what is undoubtedly Lena’s nicest car parked casually in the suburban driveway next to Eliza’s Honda.
She doesn’t answer, her breath seemingly frozen in her chest as she heads to the doorway, not bothering to knock.
“Kara! I was just about to call you. I’m almost done reading,” Eliza says, putting aside a stack of papers -
Kara’s heart hammers in her chest as she looks around the room, as if Lena will suddenly materialize. If her heartbeat wasn’t so loud in her ears, she would be able to hear Lena easily but -
Lena appears in the kitchen doorway, holding a beer.
Kara’s breath finally leaves her in a rush of relieved exhale. “Lena,” she greets her, but Kara’s voice sounds weird, even to her own ears. It’s squeaky, choked up and nervous.
Alex watches the whole bizarre interaction from the open front door, not sure yet if she wants to be a part of whatever the hell this is.
Lena smiles hopefully at Kara, but doesn’t say anything. Eliza tuts, picking up the contract again. “You know the rules, sweetheart. No socializing between suitor and intended while I review the contract,” she winks at Lena, who blushes a shade of red Kara has never seen her turn before.
Kara moves in a daze, barely noticing that her feet aren’t touching the ground as she drifts to her mom’s side, taking a seat and trying to relax.
Alex finally comes into the room, looking more apprehensive than she does entering a room full of masked gunmen. Kara would know.
Lena disappears for a moment, back into the kitchen. A moment later, she presses a beer into a grateful Alex’s hands.
It only takes Eliza a few minutes to finish reading the hefty document, thankfully. She grabs a pen from the side table, her favorite one, Kara notes. It had been a gift from her and Alex for Mother’s Day years ago.
Eliza presses the pen against the expensive looking paper and signs with a flourish, taking a moment to add the crest of the House of El next to it. Kara’s heart stills in her chest.
Alex chugs her beer, looking apprehensively between her mother and Lena.
Eliza stands, placing the contract on the table and moving towards Lena. For Kara, it’s like watching a movie. It’s too perfect, too fantastical to actually be real.
“You know, I knew you before I knew Kara. Your mother brought you to the lab several times. Even then, you were different from the rest of them. You’re different from almost everyone,” Eliza says, eyes raking across Lena’s face as if she’s seeing past it, to the young girl that used to play with chemistry sets underneath her mother’s desk during her mother’s long nights in the lab. For a moment, it’s like Kara can see that version of Lena too.
And then her mom’s vision clears, and she’s smiling amicably again. “Almost everyone,” she raises an eyebrow at Kara. “But you seem to have found an equal in each other,” she addresses the last sentence to Kara as well.
“Lena of House Luthor, I formally accept your proposal of courtship. If Kara Zor-El, scion of the House of El wishes to bond with you at the end of the courtship process, House Danvers-El will welcome you with open arms. Unless your intended chooses another path, from this day on, we are family.”
The words aren’t exactly right translated into English, but Kara doesn’t care about that, not when she’s watching Lena be accepted into the same warm and loving arms she’d been accepted into after arriving on Earth.
Not when she’s just witnessed a ritual she never thought she would see again.
Lena turns to her then, gorgeous and glowing in the colors of Kara’s House, marked as hers. She never thought she’d get to have this.
“Zhao,” Kara breathes more than says as Lena wraps her arms around her neck.
“Wear this token of my affection, Kara Zor-El,” the Kryptonese is practiced, not as easily spoken as the words of a native speaker, but so close that Kara wonders just how many hours Lena practiced the phrase.
Lena grabs a folded bundle of fabric from the wooden side table, holding it out to Kara as if she still thinks there’s a chance Kara will reject her.
Kara doesn’t hesitate, wiping away tears with one hand as she grasps the bundle with the other.
She unfolds it, revealing a cape, not like the fire-proof, bulletproof, kryptonite-proof one Lena had made for her do-goodery.
It’s silk, or satin, or something rich, Kara’s bad at identifying fashion, but in any case, it’s soft, made of the finest material Kara has ever touched. It billows out as she unfolds it.
Capes weren’t useful back home. They were ceremonial, the wearing of one indicating the scion of a house. This is…her birthright, in a way.
She would have worn something like this back home.
Kara releases the claps on her cape, dropping it to replace it with the new garment.
Lena’s eyes watch every twitch of muscle with a cautious eye.
“I’m feeling very left out right now, guys,” Alex says, finally fed up with silent observation, a fresh beer in hand and a bewildered expression on her face.
“Lena just proposed,” Kara says not bothering to look away from Lena, whose cheeks are flushed with excitement now that the nerve wracking portion of the event is over.
Alex chokes on air, glancing frantically between the stack of papers Eliza signed, the cloak, and Lena with equal panic evident.
“What the fuck?” she says eloquently, earning herself a gentle smack from Eliza.
“Language,” she says imperiously, Alex cowing at the admonishment.
“Okay, fine, what the duck just happened?” Alex amends snarkily, “Did you just sign away my sister?”
Lena snorts, “Not quite. Kara has 274.4 days to respond positively or negatively to my proposal. She can end it anytime she wants.”
Alex looks at Kara, who is literally floating with happiness.
“What Lena means to say is that in 274.4 days, we’ll be free to bond, which means you should mark your calendars,” Kara says confidently, pointing between Eliza and Alex, “I’m not waiting .2 longer than necessary.” She knows she shouldn’t, for decorum and all, especially since she’s bad at it…but she winks at Lena nonetheless, delighted when she bites her lip automatically in response, her hand twitching as if to reach out to Kara.
Kara’s more than willing to cross the distance Lena’s afraid to, reaching out with an eager hand to take Lena’s waist, pulling her to her side, flush against her. Lena looks up, green eyes glinting with wonder.
She’d done all this and somehow still doubted that Kara truly wanted her.
Kara would have to fix that.
“I’m going to need something stronger,” Alex mumbles, looking sadly down at the brown glass bottle in her hand.
Eliza chuckles. “I also think that tonight calls for something celebratory,” she says, treating Alex’s sarcasm as positive commentary. She hums as she approaches her liquor cabinet, pulling a very old bottle from the shelf.
“This will do,” she says with finality, brushing a bit of dust from the label.
____________________________________________________________________________
Lena knew it would happen eventually.
Nothing perfect and happy in her life could last.
Kara was too good, too wonderful for Lena, and Superman was here to bring it all crashing down on her shoulders.
It felt ironic, Superman landing in the same spot Kara had landed so many times on her balcony, lattes or flowers in hand from some random market in god knows what country.
All those happy memories, set to be tainted by his arrival. Lena wants to feel upset about it, but she can’t blame him, not when she’s who she is, and Kara is who Kara is. She’d be ready to do the same in his position.
She stands from her desk, unlocking the balcony door he’s waiting at as if walking to her execution.
“Miss Luthor,” he greets her, so formally and human that Lena almost balks.
She’d been prepared for aggression, but this is different.
“Kal,” she says, her lips forming the words before she can think through what to call him -
He’s dressed as Superman, but is Clark Kent more than the Kal Kara knew on Krypton. In her head, he’s Kal, because of Kara’s stories about him as a mischievous youngling playing in the lab at her feet, but here? He’s known nothing but being Clark, masquerading as Superman when it served him.
It’s a mess, so Lena is thankful when her possibly offensive greeting doesn’t make him tense. He’s watching her, that’s certain, but it’s no more intense than when he first approached. If anything, he’s slightly more relaxed than before.
She’s not usually this self-conscious, but Kal matters. He’s the last living link Kara has to her home, and whether or not he chooses to be Kryptonian, he matters.
“I got a bonding invitation,” Kal/Clark says, curious eyes on Lena for her reaction. She gives none.
“Oh? I hadn’t realized those went out yet,” Lena responds, carefully neutral.
He sighs, and it looks like he ages five years in the span of time it takes for the breath to leave his mouth.
“I hoped I would know Kara’s other half before it was put in print but -” he pauses, sinking down onto the comfortable but still sleek-looking couch Lena purchased for her and Kara’s lunches.
“But that’s my fault,” he says, the tension seeping out of his shoulders. He looks like a man then, instead of the superhuman she’s come to know from the media and Lex.
Lena takes the seat opposite him, in one of the slightly uncomfortable but extremely fashionable chairs she’d decorated the office with but never thought she’d sit in.
“You’re here now,” she says, swallowing down her nerves and replacing them with the steely boardroom decorum she’d been trained for.
“Yes,” he says, a slight smile across the jawline that Lena now knows is genetic. She’s stared at Kara’s for enough hours to recognize it. “And I’d like to start out on the right foot.”
He extends his hand across the space between them.
“I’m Kal-El,” he says, using the Kryptonian inflection for his name. It’s as clumsy as Lena’s Kryptonese, Lena recognizes.
She grins. Maybe she has someone to bumble her way through Kryptonese with after all.
“I’m Lena Luthor, I am proud to be your family,” she responds in equally clumsy northern Kryptonian dialect.
She grips his hand, hoping the traditional phrase wasn’t too much.
He smiles back at her. She apparently didn’t do too bad.
Maybe Kara’s right. Maybe she would have fit in better on Krypton.
____________________________________________________________________________
The last thing Kara expected to find when she finished up at the lab and headed to Lena’s office was her cousin and Lena sitting on the floor, drunk, Kal’s lips slightly purple from drinking alien wine, both speaking in slightly garbled, badly accented Kryptonese.
“Zhao,” Lena says excitedly upon seeing Kara standing befuddled in her doorway, a sympathetic Jess standing behind her.
“It’s been two hours since they asked me to bring up the flashcards. They turned it into a drinking game. I haven’t understood a word they’ve said since, but I managed to get them to eat, at least. They’re all yours from here,” Jess says, patting Kara’s shoulder in a sympathetic motion.
“Lena orders the right amount of food,” Kal says in awed english, causing Lena to cackle and point at him for some reason.
He frowns. “Fuck,” he says under his breath.
“What just happened?” Kara asks.
Lena stands, slightly wobbly, and walks over to Kara, wrapping loving arms around her neck and pulling her down in the process, the height difference far more evident in her stocking feet. She places a kiss on Kara’s cheek, then pulls back, beaming as she says in slurred but intact Kryptonese, “I won.”
She switches back to english then after placing another quick peck on Kara’s cheek. “Family bonding, darling. Your cousin learned one of Lionel’s morally ambiguous but useful rules for life. Kal?”
Kal rolls his eyes, sitting up straighter as he mimes in his best posh accent, “If you can’t do something while drunk, you have not yet fully acquired the skill.”
Lena grins, triumphantly, lifting her glass in a silent toast.
Kara watches the exchange with amusement. She’s never seen Kal properly drunk. Trust Lena to be the one to get him to loosen up.
All it took was a little nerdy competition.
“Any chance there are leftovers?” Kara asks, heading towards the fridge Lena had installed in her supply closet for Kara’s snacks. Snacks being entire pre-prepared lasagnas for her fifteen minute breaks.
“Of course, darling -”
Kal cuts Lena off, “She told me if I touched your to-go boxes that I’d found out how much Kryptonite Lex left as her inheritance.”
Lena flushes, shooting a betrayed glare his way, but Kara is far too preoccupied with the way Lena’s face lights up with juvenile annoyance. It’s easy to forget how young Lena is sometimes. They’re both young, but it rarely feels like it.
Seeing her like this, hair out of sorts, flushed and currently hurling a couch pillow at Superman’s head, well, it just seems right.
____________________________________________________________________________
“That’s it!” Kara says, slamming the door behind her just hard enough to be dramatic but not hard enough to damage it. It’s a good measure of how upset she actually is.
So…sort of. Medium mad. Lena prepares accordingly mentally.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Lena asks, checking over Kara for the other signs of distress. She’s not in uniform, not bleeding, and not carrying a file (Kara’s despair over unsolved problems rivals her own sometimes).
Kara sets her bag down on Lena’s floor with an insolent huff. “This week has been incredible, don’t get me wrong, but I’m done. With everyone. Pack a bag,” Kara says, pointing commandingly at Lena’s luggage, which never really leaves its spot by her coat rack. It’s a bad habit.
“Oh? And just what am I packing for?” Lena’s eyebrow quirks up in question, but she stands to obey immediately. She likes the side of Kara that demands what she wants, she’s not about to dissuade her, curious as she is.
Kara doesn’t disappoint, stepping closer to Lena, the same fierce attitude she’d made her entrance with seeping into her motions. Her hands are desperate when they pull Lena close to her. Her head ducking down to press a kiss just below Lena’s left ear. “Somewhere relaxing. Just you,” Kara enunciates each word with a peck along Lena’s neck, “Me,” Lena’s breath catches in her throat, “and a bathtub that would make french peasants want to get out the guillotine.”
Lena’s laugh comes out choked as Kara bites down, apparently feeling a bit savage.
Lena pulls back, if only to relish the possessive look in Kara’s eyes.
“Are you thinking a lavish beach or snowy chateau? I have properties at a few places, no packing necessary,” Lena offers in immediate agreement.
“Cat’s out of the bag about my identity. Might as well enjoy them for once, go vacation somewhere beautiful we can fly to on a whim, eat takeout from across the globe and just…enjoy it. Us,” Kara says more seriously. “Anywhere you want to go. More than one place if you want.”
Kara’s energy is electric as she wraps Lena tighter in her arms, lifting her and spinning her in the air before setting her back on the ground. She remains hovering just a bit above the floor, apparently unable to help herself.
Lena is charmed beyond belief. What’s new?
____________________________________________________________________________
They decide on Lena’s cozy cabin in Norway, complete with access to a natural hot spring and the best stargazing Kara’s ever seen on Earth.
Granted, she was dissuaded from using her powers for “fun” before so her only brushes with stargazing were while solving crises across the globe. This was different. Better.
Kara couldn’t have imagined this a year ago, sitting in a hot spring watching the stars she came from, her stomach filled with takeout from ten different countries, a beautiful woman beside her, nestled perfectly into her side and idly swapping stories of mythologies from Krypton and Earth as the hours pass by.
At some point, under the starlight and weight of Lena’s heated gaze, Kara caves. She can’t wait anymore. She’d planned stuff, but that doesn’t seem to matter now, not when Lena is so close to her, and so beautiful.
She speeds out of the water to grab the box from her discarded pants’ pocket, so quickly that Lena barely has time to lose balance before Kara is stabilizing her.
Lena’s eyes focus on the black velvet box as Kara maneuvers herself into a one-knee type of position, made slightly awkward by being submerged in the water.
“But we’re already -”
Kara cuts her off, taking Lena’s hand in hers, loving the way it fits easily in her slightly larger palm. “You’ve done thing the Kryptonian way for me. Let me do things the human way for you too, sometimes,” Kara says with a grin, opening the box with one hand and presenting the carefully chosen ring to Lena.
“Lena Kieran Luthor, will you make me the happiest woman in the universe and marry me?”
Lena nods immediately, a small choked, “Yes, Kara,” escaping her mouth between disbelieving, slightly teary chuckles.
They get out eventually, when settling in for bed starts to sound nice.
Kara doesn’t bother asking before scooping Lena up out of the water and into her arms, carrying her back into the house and into the bathroom to dry off with the freakishly soft towels Lena keeps here.
She leaves Lena there to change, using superspeed as soon as she’s out of the room to change into her own pajamas, snagged from the haphazardly packed bag she’d brought.
Kara hears the hairdryer whir to life and decides to settle into the bed to wait, grabbing the TV remote to put on something happy.
She settles on Pride and Prejudice, pulling Lena’s ridiculously soft comforter up to her chin and letting herself melt.
And then Lena comes out, hair half-dried (from impatience, no doubt) and wearing a NCU sweatshirt she stole from Kara, her shorts barely poking out beneath the hem.
Kara has never felt luckier. This goddess is hers, hair askew and green eyes groggy from the long day, freckles poking out of the worn neckline of the faded grey and blue sweatshirt.
She’ll worship every day, the way Rao intended.
____________________________________________________________________________
Lena’s been to this cafe a million times, but this time is different. Better.
She doesn’t bother with surprise when Kara orders in perfect French.
She just tips extra when Kara finishes their order, requesting half of the cafe’s counter for her consumption.
The cashier looks shocked, but in typical French fashion, recovers quickly and adopts the typical unimpressed expression as he begin placing pastries upon clean baking trays, forgoing plates altogether.
She can’t blame him.
She also can’t blame his awed expression when Kara neatly finishes all of it off except for the comparatively miniscule portion Lena eats, returning the counter briefly to order an almond croissant and two more coffees to go.
“Maybe a walk through an art museum? I’ve never seen the Louvre,” Kara says as they leave the small cafe.
And that’s how Lena finds herself pulling Kara through the Louvre on a Saturday afternoon, an occluded emerald engagement ring the exact shade of her eyes glittering in the light as they stroll through the vast halls of masterpieces, as if this is her life.
As if this is their life. For as long as this dream lasts, she’s going to live it to the fullest.
____________________________________________________________________________
Their return to reality feels almost mundane.
It takes three days for the peaceful boredom to be corrupted by Cat Grant.
Of course staying under the radar couldn’t last forever.
“I want to interview you,” Cat says as soon as Kara picks up the call. It’s the third today and she can’t bring herself to ignore it anymore. She feels too guilty ignoring Cat. She spent too many years being mentored by her to not owe her at least a little.
“Who are you talking to, Cat?” Kara asks, hearing a pause that means Cat is reshuffling, deciding what personality serves her best at the moment. She’s a code-switcher at heart.
“This would be better in person. I need to look you in the -”
Cat drops her phone as Kara steps through her office door, a rush of papers left in the air current left behind her, but she really can’t be bothered.
She knows everything important is electronically saved anyways.
And maybe she’s feeling a little dramatic also.
She spent so long in this building, trying to create a life she didn’t want, all based around a person she never wanted to be. Now she’s herself, and she wants to flex a little bit. Just a tiny bit.
She closes Cat’s door behind her with a politely soft thud, settling into the seat opposite her with distinct familiarity.
She’s been here a hundred times or more, but this time she’s not getting a story for Cat. She is the story, and she knows it.
“You’re not Kiera,” Cat says in lieu of greeting.
Kara tilts her head in question, “Never was, Cat, and you know that.”
Cat grins at her like the cat (ironically, yes, Kara knows) that got the cream. “You asked who I wanted to interview, but that’s not a fair question.”
Cat closes her laptop to get a fuller view of Kara, every bit as appraising of a look on her face as when Kara interviewed for the assistant position.
“I knew you were Supergirl, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think this is an either or answer. You introduce yourself as Kara Zor-El. Who is she? Why have I not been introduced yet?” Cat’s tone turns towards offended, and Kara sees her error.
Cat may want the interview, but what she called Kara here for is something else.
“You want to meet me. The real me,” Kara says, a semblance of the bubbly Kara Danvers smile on her face as she sits up to meet Cat’s eyes fully.
“Well okay then,” She stands, offering Cat her hand to shake. “Kara Zor-El.”
Cat smiles at her warmly, one of the rare moments Kara has seen that look on her face.
____________________________________________________________________________
Kara does the interview a week later, wearing her new suit, something more similar to the protective battle suits of Kryptonian military, and the ceremonial cape Lena gifted her.
She hasn't looked or felt so Kryptonian since she left Krypton’s atmosphere.
She lounges in the hot seat, telling Cat about her life on Krypton, and how it shaped her life here on Earth. She tells her about the projects she’s working on in the labs, how she’s using her knowledge to try to help humanity.
It’s a good interview. One of Cat’s best.
And then she asks about the Luthors. “Kara, you know I have to ask. What do you think about your business partner’s brother having tried to kill your only living relative?”
The question hits hard in the quiet set, Cat’s voice echoing out across a crowd of silent camera people and sound techs.
“Lena’s the force of good changing Luthorcorp into the L-Corp it can be. She’s making her family’s empire into something that helps humanity. She’s taking an inheritance she didn’t ever want to receive, and turning into something that changes the world for the better. She should be judged for her mark on the world, not by the people that raised her.”
Cat taps her pen against her paper pad, though it’s useless in an interview like this. It’s habit for her have it, and Kara knows it. Cat has no intention of writing anything down. She's thinking hard, framing her next question very carefully.
“Is Lena Luthor your business partner? Just your business partner?” Cat asks finally, the silent crowd hanging on to every softly uttered syllable.
Kara knows a soundbite when she hears it. It’s fun being the star of it, now that it’s a controlled circumstance.
She pauses just long enough to build suspense, and then cracks a charming smile. Whatever she says next is going to be on replay on CatCo’s advertisements for the next several days. At least.
Kara leans back in her chair, completely at ease even with the literal spotlight beaming down on her.
“Lena is my future wife.”
____________________________________________________________________________