Work Text:
The events that lead to Lena saying yes to perhaps one of the most haphazard, and ridiculous, propositions she had ever heard in her life could be whittled down to an amalgamation of exactly three things.
First up was the fact that she was in desperate need of a break. A break from being accused of being a homicidal freak. A break from people thinking she was as anti-alien, anti-equality as the rest of her family. A break from people shouting slurs on the street, and death threats, and the odd catcall. A break from assumptions, and presumptions, and blind faithlessness.
But it wasn’t just that. It was a break from spreadsheets, and stoic old men in black suits with white skin and far too many opinions based on nothing but their imagined superiority. A break from too much coffee and not enough food. A break from half finished prototypes and blueprints scribbled by a half addled, sleep deprived mind.
A break from real life.
Second, there was the fact that this was the city in which an alien invasion had occurred not even a month ago. A full scale alien invasion, complete with a crazy leader who tried to marry her off to her best friends boyfriend, and then threatened to both, kill an entire hospital full of children, and artificially create a baby with Lena’s DNA without her permission.
A full scale alien invasion that she managed to stop, but only with the added catch that she had to make the earth’s atmosphere poisonous to her best friend’s aforementioned boyfriend. A full scale invasion that almost sent her over the edge. A full scale invasion that had left Kara standing on the edge, staring into the abyss with a coldness that came from losing something one too many times.
Third was the fact that Kara asked.
Kara asked and for a reason beyond Lena’s conscious understanding, she couldn’t say no to Kara. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that Kara was the first real friend she’d had in a long time. Her first confidant. Her real first female friend definitely.
Then there was the fact that Lena had been trying to prove she was worthy of Kara’s trust and loyalty since the moment they met, even more so since the moment Kara decided Lena deserved to know her secret, that she could be trusted with it even if she’d been stuck with a cursed name and a family built for misguided destruction disguised as creation.
So as usual Kara asked, and Lena said yes, before proceeding to immediately curse her inability to say no to sparkling blue eyes and a smile. Only this time the request was something a bit more substantial than just getting the last slice of pizza (even if she’d basically eaten the whole thing single-handedly anyway) or a trade in monopoly that certainly wasn’t in Lena’s best interest.
This time it was a road trip.
An actual road trip.
A classic ‘I’m on a journey to find myself before I go to college’ road trip. The usual ‘I just need to taste some freedom before life takes over again’ road trip. An existential crisis road trip. An ‘I need to escape for a while because the man I thought I loved was the son of an evil tyrant and is now floating in some undetermined place in space’... maybe that last one was less stereotypical. It was certainly less relatable.
Lena knows she probably should have said no, knows that they both should have made the righteous decision to stay and help clean up the mess they inadvertently created. But Lena also knows that Kara needs this and Lena needs Kara. Her Kara. Her best friend.
Which, in the end, is the real reason that Lena says yes to the crazy road trip idea and she doesn’t even really come to regret it until Kara shows up outside her apartment with, what can only really be classified as, a literal death trap on wheels.
“Ta-da! Don’t you just love it?” No. She decidedly did not love it. It was actually rather horrible, and presumably dangerous, and definitely on its last leg. Lena wasn’t a snob, she wasn’t afraid to do things herself and get her hands dirty or wear clothes without a designer label in public, but she wasn’t about to just climb into a car that was more rust than working parts.
No matter what people said about her, she wasn’t crazy.
She takes one look at Kara’s hopeful grin.
“It’s fantastic.” Perhaps a little crazy. She was actually going to get into an old Chevrolet Impala that, looked nothing like the one she always found Lex polishing in the garage when he said he wanted to feel grounded, and more like Kara had bought it from a police impound after it had gone through several road accidents and possibly a murder. She was more than a little crazy (or just feeling hopelessly guilty and in need of absolution).
“I knew you’d like it. Alex said you would complain but then again she also said you’d be angry about me not telling you I was Supergirl earlier and she was wrong then. So, Lena two, Alex zero!” Kara holds her hand out for a high-five and Lena gives in without hesitation because Kara’s enthusiasm is contagious, and because she knows it’ll only stretch the smile she’s come to admire.
“Your sister also thought she was straight so maybe she’s not the best judge of character.” Lena had met Alex Danvers no more than four times and yet, it had still been a surprise when Kara felt the need to tell her that Alex way gay, to assume that Lena hadn’t clocked onto that fact within about two seconds of having an actual conversation with the woman. It just seemed so obvious. It was so obvious.
“I’m gonna tell her you said that.”
“Not if you want me to get in this car you’re not,” Lena threatens and there’s a part of her that might actually follow through on it if Kara doesn’t throw in a pout first because, her and Alex may be on better terms, but she knows there’s still an element of mistrust there.
“Fine,” Kara sighs dramatically but ruins it immediately with the grin she displays a second later as she excitedly bounds to the car and opens the passenger side for Lena with an over exaggerated flourish. “You ready for adventure?”
“So ready,” Lena deadpans, throwing her bag into the boot and accepting Kara’s wordless invitation into what would probably be the last car she’d ever drive in, but it does nothing to curb Kara’s seemingly endless enthusiasm.
“So...” Kara starts, after a moment of wiggling to find the best position in the seat. “Where are we off to?” She asks and Lena’s brow furrows confusedly at the question.
“I thought you were choosing.”
“Oh.”
This was going to be a disaster.
They drive around aimlessly for an hour before Kara finally decides on a destination and it should be horrible. Driving past the same three convenience stores and watching a human sandwich fling around a sign way too aggressively should be horrible. If it were anyone else it would horrible. If it were anyone else she would be debating how much damage she’d do to herself if she were to open the car door and just roll right out.
But it was Kara.
It was Kara, and Lena found she didn’t really mind driving without purpose with Kara by her side. She liked the gentle hum of the engine and Kara’s thoughtful taps on the wheel as she perused the tattered map she pulled from the glovebox. She liked the endless flow of pedestrians swimming through her view and the fact that she was almost a hundred percent sure no one would ever suspect it was her in this car (though she was less fond of the thought of dying in it).
It was comfortable.
Kara always made her feel comfortable, has made her feel comfortable since the first moment they met, whether it was whilst she was wearing her suit and telling her she was safe now, or nervously holding a pen and paper and letting her know she wasn’t the only one trying to emerge from her family’s shadow. She always seemed to know exactly what to say, and do, and exactly when Lena needed her to say and do nothing other than sit beside her.
“I’ve found it. The perfect place for us to go. The perfect sight to go and see,” Kara says, her face lighting up just a little bit more with each new word from her mouth. It suddenly strikes Lena how nice Kara’s smile is. The prominent curve. The lack of hesitation. The warmth. It’s a nice smile. A beautiful smile. The kind of smile that would make a strangers day.
It makes Lena want to tell jokes just to see it again, even those really bad science puns that she can’t help but slip out sometimes because, even if Lena feels like a total idiot, Kara always laughs like it’s the best thing she’s ever heard instead of doing that pitying laugh so many others do. It makes Lena intrigued as to what she’ll say next, as to what amazing place warranted such an amazing smile.
“Do tell.”
“The world’s largest rocking chair.”
Lena stops...
Blinks...
Goes to speak...
Stops again.
“The world’s largest rocking chair in...” Lena trails off and follows the tip of Kara’s finger. “Illinois?” A chair? A rocking chair? Kara’s idea of the perfect place for them to go on their road trip (the road trip that was leaving National City without its resident super and L-Corp without the only person capable of picking it up from rock bottom) was a chair, albeit a big one, and yet, ultimately, still just a chair. And one that was a good few states over no less.
“Yeah!” Kara exclaims, no less exuberant despite the confusion displayed plainly on Lena’s face.
“You want to drive, what, thirty or so hours, to go and see the world’s largest rocking chair?” Kara nods excitedly and Lena decides to try something she never has before. “No.” It actually comes out sounding rather convincing, except then Lena follows it up with an incredibly relieved exhale that really cracks into the stoic and steadfast facade she was attempting to create.
“Come on, Lena. Please.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“No.”
“...Lena.”
“Fine,” Lena sighs out like she knew she eventually would. Kara woops loudly in response which Lena also knew she inevitably would. Truthfully she was mostly just surprised that she managed to get the word ‘no’ out three times before she caved.
She’s a little less surprised that she eventually gave in when the pout came out to play because Lena was weak. Lena was weak, and Kara knew exactly what she was doing even if she did act all innocent with her demure pastel sweaters, and the pressed pants and that perfectly practised, self conscious glasses bump.
“Huge chair, here we come!” Kara cheers, pushing the map into Lena’s hand in a silent demand for her to read it because ‘we’re doing this the old fashioned way, Lena’, ‘it’ll be more of an adventure this time, Lena’, ‘surprise, I can’t actually navigate using a map, Lena.’
Lena still takes it without question and silently wonders when this became her life, when she stopped being able to say no to everyone around her and was willing to leave all her work behind to drive around the country seeing giant chairs just to make someone else happy.
Then she starts to wonder whether or not she’ll ever manage to build up an immunity to the Kara Danvers pout, but, considering she’d seen pictures of Alex Danvers dressed as the mustard bottle to Kara’s ketchup for Halloween not two years ago, she imagines the answer is not a chance in hell.
(Not that she really minds all that much.
Kara grins wildly at Lena and dances eagerly in her seat.
She really didn’t mind at all).
She can’t stop shuffling.
She’s overtly aware that she can’t stop shuffling. She’s even more aware that the exact reason she can’t stop shuffling is because of her incredibly poor choice of clothing (the same poor choice of clothing as the rest of the items that fill her bag in the back of the car).
Lena hadn’t been quite prepared to sit in a car for hours on end, and whilst she had perfected sitting up straight at her desk in a pencil skirt and tight blouse, she wasn’t doing as well in this death trap as she usually did on her orthopaedic chair. She mostly felt like she was suffocating, and chafing, and just generally beginning to question all of her life choices that lead to this moment.
Not that she didn’t look good. But there was no doubt in her mind that she paid more for her outfit than Kara did for the car and she really wished she had just packed jeans. That one pair of incredibly comfortable jeans she left back in her Metropolis apartment because she hadn’t expected to make friends in National City, hadn’t expected to spend any time out of the office for something other than sleeping, hadn’t expected a reason to wear anything other than power suits and killer heels.
For a certified genius, she really could be an idiot.
She shifts again.
She should’ve at least worn slacks.
“Okay, new first stop!” Kara calls out cheerfully, and Lena pushes her discomfort aside to take in their surroundings. They’re barely an hour out of National City, still in a place that surrounds them with high-rises and pedestrians and Lena dreads to think what ‘world’s largest’ item Kara has suddenly discovered that they would need to spend time looking at. She really hopes it’s not cutlery.
“You mean you no longer want to see the wonders of the largest rocking chair in the world?”
“Oh no, that’s happening, just after you’re in suitable clothes.” Usually Lena would put up a fight, contest it. She’d probably say that she was in perfectly suitable clothing and immediately sit up straighter, promptly stop shuffling, and pretend that she was having the time of her life imprisoned by expensive fabrics. But not with Kara.
She’d promised herself a long time ago she wouldn’t lie to Kara, even about trivial things (except that she definitely hasn’t told Kara she hates olives and is still wincing through them every time they order pizza because at least Kara was eating a vegetable by choice and not through trickery).
“I’m too uncomfortable to argue,” Lena acquiesces.
“Good because I’d win,” Kara quips back quickly.
“I don’t doubt it.” Not for a second.
That’s how Lena ends up with her arms piled high with clothes that Kara picked out because she apparently couldn’t be trusted to make the decisions herself, and because Kara claimed her super powers included choosing the comfiest clothing (which Lena couldn’t find herself to contest considering the clothes in her hands definitely seemed softer than anything she’d worn since college). Plus she looked too cute for Lena to find it in herself to say no.
It was that same prevalent inability to say no that was exactly how Lena had ended up being pushed into a dressing room holding a shirt that said “Don’t Trust Atoms They Make Up Everything” and knowing full well that, even in spite of her protests, she wouldn’t be walking out of the store without having purchased it.
“Just try it on. You’re gonna love it,” Kara calls through the curtain like she knows Lena hasn’t moved an inch since it was pulled closed and has instead just been staring at the clothes in her arms with a sense of resignation.
“I do generally love looking like an idiot.”
“You’ll look great.”
“I’ll-“
“Stop stalling and put the shirt on, Lena,” Kara interrupts and Lena’s only response is a huff that really translates to I might as well try to end this with some dignity intact. Dignity which promptly disappears when she tries to pull her shirt over head and gets it caught on her earring. Dignity which then somehow manages to plummet a little further when she realises she can’t get herself unstuck.
She can’t get herself unstuck.
Which means...
“Kara? A little help?” She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly nervous. Plenty of girls had seen her with her top off before, albeit, intentionally rather than accidentally but still, plenty of girls. And girls changed in front of their friends all the time, or so she heard. It was basically like getting changed for gym class. Except it was Kara. Kara was going to see Lena with her shirt off and for some inexplicable reason that set Lena’s heart racing like few things ever had.
“Sure, what’s the-oh.” So, Lena couldn’t see, but she could tell you with upmost certainty that Kara Danvers had seen her topless or, rather, awkwardly semi-topless. She’d seen her boobs. She was most probably at that very moment looking at her boobs and usually Lena was all for torso confidence but she was suddenly very hot, and shaky, and... quite possibly fancied Kara a little.
Shit.
“Yeah. Oh. My earring is a little caught.”
“Oh okay, erm, if I just-“ Lena hears Kara fumbling for a moment before she moves with precision, sliding her hand slowly up Lena’s neck and towards her ear to gently pull the earring free from the fabric it found itself stuck in.
Lena feels her breath catch when Kara’s fingers run softly along the shell of her ear but she quickly blames it on Kara’s cold hands even if deep down she knows that’s not why her heart is clawing at her ribcage. The air comes rushing from her lungs all at once when Kara takes it upon herself to help Lena out of her shirt fully, dropping it to the floor without care, without taking her eyes from Lena.
There’s something odd about Kara’s stare as she captures Lena’s gaze, something oddly intimate as she refuses to look away, something oddly captivating in the way she stares like she’s trying to communicate something she doesn’t quite know how to vocalise yet.
“You think you can do the skirt yourself?” It’s meant to be a joke, Lena thinks. It’s meant to come out with chuckled syllables and a rhythmic lilt. Instead it comes out strangely serious, with earnest words and unfailing eyes and a thick swallow that makes Lena think Kara too knows how it sounded, knows that her eyes are nervous and teetering on the edge of slipping down and away from Lena’s own.
She debates saying no; debates testing the waters, giving in to a temptation she hadn’t even realised was lingering under the surface until that moment. It’s not a good idea. It’s not sensible, or smart, or likely to lead to anything other than awkwardness and yet Lena debates it.
She wants to know how far she could push this, wants to know how Kara would react, if her gaze would finally let itself roam, if she would run her fingertips as softly down Lena’s back as she had before, if she would even have the guts to follow through with the timid offer in the first place.
“I-“
“One at a time, ladies. No funny business!” Lena jumps and Kara spins; only really succeeding in tangling herself up in the curtain. She fumbles her way out of the fabric with an awkward smile and a nervous laugh until Lena is alone again with her thoughts and a t-shirt she really wishes she didn’t have to put on (but that she definitely will).
She should really take some time to think about it. Lena should take a moment to breathe and decide whether this attraction to Kara was something real, or whether it was just her turn to realise that Kara has some steel under pastel sweaters and seemingly endless kindness.
But she won’t. Instead she pulls on the cheapest pair of jeans she’s even worn and pulls a shirt she hates over her head because Kara asked her to and because she couldn’t do this right now. She couldn’t have this epiphany in some dirty old changing room. She couldn’t just decide that this friendship felt more than a friendship when Kara was in pain, when she was still feeling guilty for the part she played in the invasion, in Kara losing Mon-El.
It wasn’t fair to Kara.
And Lena wasn’t going to become another selfish Luthor.
Lena emerges from the changing room with her signature smirk plastered on perfectly and a mocking twirl that makes her feel like she’s about to kick off an eighties movie montage of horrendous outfit choice after horrendous outfit choice.
Kara, on her part, just stares. Then stares some more. And then just a little bit more like she’d forgotten her manners which usually seemed so apparent. That is, at all times other than when she was steamrolling past Jess to interrupt you at work.
It takes a second for Lena to realise why. It takes a moment for it to click that Kara has never seen her like this before. Kara had seen Lena in her office in the tight leather shirts she wore when she felt the familiar swirl of rebellion spark up in her chest, the intoxicating twist of mutiny in her stomach when she wanted to prove to Lillian, in every aspect, that she wasn’t like them.
She’d seen her in sensible skirts, and less sensible shoes, that she wore to make herself seem like a respectable business woman that still probably shouldn’t be fucked with. She’s seen her in designer coats that felt like they gave her another layer of defence and button-ups in shades way darker than most things in Kara’s closet.
Kara had seen Lena in her business wear, had watched her wear it like armour even in the safety of Kara’s own home, the solace of Kara’s own company. But Kara had never seen Lena strip back the first layer of fortification she put on in the morning. She’d never seen her in jeans.
“Do I look stupid?”
“Stupidly pretty,” Kara responds immediately with a proud grin like can’t quite believe her own quick wit. “Jeans are a good look for you, and that t-shirt? Amazing.” Lena knows that the prior would be far more genuine than the latter if it had been anyone else. But Kara seems truly smitten with the ridiculous joke smeared across Lena’s chest and the quirky cartoon atom that’s staring up at Lena like it’s enjoying her suffering, and Lena knows she won’t get away with only wearing it once.
“Only you would subject me to this.”
“I do it with love.”
“Of course you do. Let’s pay before I come to my senses.” Or before Kara realised there was an entire rack of quirky slogan tees just over her shoulder and made Lena buy more.
Thankfully they make it to the car before Kara spots the rack through the window and Lena somehow manages to convince her that they don’t really have the time to go back in again if they want to make it to the giant chair by tomorrow night, and honestly she swears no one else would take the thought of delaying seeing said chair so seriously.
They’re seated back in the quietly (not so quietly) humming car when Kara turns her attention to Lena instead of pulling back onto the road.
“You really don’t look stupid, you know? I mean, I like ‘Lena Luthor, powerful woman of designer mystery’ but I find regular old Lena just as amazing. Maybe even more so. I just... you don’t have to wear your super-suit in front of me. You don’t have to hide from me.”
“I guess I could wear jeans more,” Lena concedes quietly in both an admission that Kara was right about her clothing super sense and an acceptance of the fact that Lena had come to trust Kara, had come to realise there was no one she trusted more, no one she wanted to know plain, regular Lena Luthor than the girl with a sunshine smile.
“Comfy?"
“Ridiculously so.”
“Next time we’re getting sweatpants.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lena jokes and when Kara pulls the car away laughing Lena finds herself sure of two things. One - she will own a pair of sweatpants by the end of the year. And two - she was alarmingly attracted to Kara Danvers and it was going to end in trouble.
“You know I can afford better than this?” Lena says as she runs her hands along the questionable sheets covering her bed, shuddering at the scratchy fabric and instead turning her attention to the off-white ceiling and peeling wallpaper like it was somehow less troubling (it really wasn’t).
At first Lena had just been thankful that the universe decided not to test her patience and restraint by allowing them to get a motel room that had two double beds instead of one, but then the pimpled boy behind the counter had said the price and Lena knew it was only going downhill from there. Nothing should ever be that cheap.
And, whilst Lena wasn’t overly pedantic about her hotel rooms, not in the same way her mother always asked for the bed to be made in a particular way and the complementary water to be chilled to a particular degree, that didn’t mean she was excited to sleep on a bed formed more of lice than mattress and stare around at a decor that was both dated and disturbing.
(She was almost sure people had been murdered in this room).
“This is all part of the experience,” Kara assures her cheerily but Lena still finds herself feeling distinctly less than reassured.
“And why can’t running water be a part of it too?” She quips as she takes in the damp spots in the bathroom, coated in patches of mould and almost enough to make her overlook the chips in the tiles and the limp way the shower head hung from its perch (almost but not quite).
“It does run,” Kara argues, proving her point by twisting the knob and smiling victoriously when the irregular stream starts to drip from the head. So maybe it did run, but that didn’t mean... Lena reaches around Kara’s body and sticks her hand into the spray.
“It’s freezing cold.” It’s then that she turns her attention from proving her point and towards the predicament she just put herself in. That predicament being Kara’s body effectively pressed between the glass of the shower cubicle and Lena’s own chest.
She needs to move.
She should walk away.
It would be for the best, except tired Lena wasn’t always about what was best. Tired Lena was captivated by the way their chests rose and fell in tandem. Tired Lena was enamoured with the yellow specks dusting Kara’s irises and the soft sound Kara’s lips make when they part in a silent gasp.
Overall, she mostly just made bad decision after bad decision - generally with the added help of a healthy dose of scotch - and was reckless, and weak, and often accidentally said things that she should probably have kept to herself in order to avoid hurting either party (namely: ‘I’ve recently realised I like you far less platonically than intended’).
“I can warm it up for you.”
“What are you going to do, stand in the shower with me and gently heat vision the water as it sprinkles?” And tired Lena strikes again, at possibly the worst time imaginable because, well, what with her newly realised attraction to Kara, this probably wasn’t the best time to be putting that particular kind of image into her head.
The particular image of Kara...
Soapy...
Nak-
No!
Maybe taking a freezing cold shower was for the best.
“We can worry about it in the morning,” Lena brushes off quickly, putting a safe amount of space between her and Kara even more rapidly.
“Good plan,” Kara stutters out, a blush colouring her cheeks attractively because apparently just about everything about her was attractive now. It makes Lena want to tease her, makes her want to goad the blush into spreading down her neck, makes her want to cause that awkward laugh and watch Kara walk into far too many walls, with far too little grace for it to be believable that she was an actual superhero.
Instead she calmly walks back towards her ‘bed’ and rifles through her bag for pyjamas that still have tags on them (and little cartoon puppies because Kara was involved). She waves them in Kara’s direction, breaking her from her stupor, in a silent gesture for Kara to vacate the bathroom so she could get changed... and also avoid dealing with what she just said, and thought, and the fact that now that she was back in range of the shower she was thinking about it all over again.
When she returns Kara is already asleep, legs dangling off the bed, her chest rising and falling to the tune of what Lena knows Kara will deny is snoring, and for a second Lena just stands there, stuck between the harsh light of the bathroom and the darkness filling everywhere else.
She just stands there thinking.
About nothing.
And everything.
And then one thing in particular.
That thing being how oddly beautiful Kara looks bathed in neon light from the sign outside where the curtains don’t quite meet. That thing being how that very sight sparks something in Lena’s chest because she finally knows why she’s truly on this trip, why she’s driving in a half broken car and sleeping in a not even half clean motel room. She loves Kara.
She doesn’t have some flimsy crush or flippant attraction.
She loves her.
She loves her easy smiles that really can’t be that easy when you consider the pain she’s endured, the pain she carries around every day. She loves her musical laugh and her dancing eyes. She loves that she devours way too much food, at a dangerously breakneck pace, and avoids vegetables like they’ve done her a personal injustice. She loves that Kara sings the Cheers theme song in the shower and quotes Golden Girls like it’s her job. She loves her hands and her hugs and the steady, soothing beat of her heart that always somehow makes Lena feel less afraid.
She loves her.
She’s in love with Kara.
She doesn’t know how long she spends thinking that on repeat, her own voice chanting it consistently in her head until it’s all she can think about, every other thought seeming so miniscule next to the realisation that her feelings weren’t platonic, or minor, or unremarkable. There were in fact incredibly romantic, and major, and incredibly remarkable. She doesn’t know how long she spends alternating between staring at Kara face and staring at the ceiling whilst imagining Kara’s face.
The answer to both is probably long enough.
Long enough that she could paint Kara from memory if she had enough faith in her hands to capture the very essence of the girl of steel that made her so beautiful. Long enough that she recognises the unsteady beat of her heart, finally notices the way it’s always a little off tempo when Kara is around. Long enough that she has three internal freak-out’s, followed by a period of eerie calm which then turn back into complete and utter meltdowns.
Long enough that Kara notices.
“Can’t sleep?” Kara’s voice cuts through the tense silence Lena has created for herself and she’s not ashamed to admit that she jumps a little bit (she is, however, perhaps somewhat ashamed to admit that she actually jumps quite a lot).
“Jesus, Kara!”
“Sorry but I can hear you thinking from here. Anything exciting?”
“Not really. Work. More work. A little more work.” Is what Lena says and then she just sits and hopes that Kara can’t tell that it really translates into a pinch of emotional crisis and a dash of ‘holy shit I’m in love with my best friend’.
“You know I went on a road trip once before with Alex,” Kara offers and Lena hums for her to continue because she can see Kara’s words for what they are - a distraction - and one that she’s glad to take. “It was the first time I realised I would always have a home here on earth. The first time I realised home could be a person and not just a place, you know?” Lena thinks the question is supposed to be rhetorical but she finds herself answering anyway.
“Yeah,” she whispers, and she can feel herself flinch when her voice cracks in the middle. She can feel the need to curl in on herself at the wistful tone that’s choking on far too many emotions that have been pushed beneath the surface for far too long.
“Lena?”
“I was four when my mom died and I went to live with the Luthors. I don’t really recall very much about her but I always remembered the feeling of her arms wrapped around me when I was scared. Sometimes I’d dream about it, about how warm she made me feel, and every time I’d wake up crying, and every time there was Lex in this worn out armchair by my bed, just holding my hand. He always made me feel safe, like no one could hurt me. Like I had a place. A home.”
It feels good. To talk about him. Lex. It feels good to talk about him, to be able to look at Kara and knows that in spite of their shared history and the spilled blood between their families there’s no judgement in Kara’s eyes. Just patience. And encouragement. Enough of both that Lena allows herself a small smile at the memories that were usually clouded with betrayal and loss. Enough that she takes the subtle cue to continue sharing.
“When I was young, and naive, and running away to MIT to hide for a few years he promised me we’d go on a road trip after I graduated. The Grand Canyon. I was always fascinated by it growing up. Don’t ask me why. I guess I just liked the idea that something so huge could change, and adapt and still be beautiful, still be a sight to behold even as it gets chipped away piece by piece.”
She doesn’t tell Kara that it gave her hope. That it still gives her hope. Hope that Lex’s mind still held some good even if he let his own pride, his own arrogance, his own insanity tear him apart. Hope that she could turn people’s opinions around. Hope that she could change her own opinion of herself. Hope that she could convince herself that she wasn’t as broken as she once thought, that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t too broken for someone to find her beautiful.
“Did you ever go?” Kara asks timidly and Lena thinks she’s already come to the correct answer on her own if her tone is anything to go by.
“No. Lex got busy, and then he lost himself, and I ended up the CEO of a company with far too many dark secrets and far too few hours in the day to bring them all to light.” She’d always resented the fact that she’d been forced into this life, into being the face of a company she never wanted to inherit, into being forced out of her lab and into a boardroom.
That is, until it also forced Kara into her orbit.
“You ever thought about going?”
“It feels wrong to go alone,” Lena admits quietly.
They’re silent for a moment. A moment in which Lena allows herself to remember a boy with perpetually scruffy hair (and a mother always trying to tame it). A boy with hands made to create, and calm, and never destroy. A boy who made Lena feel wanted, and loved, and like even in the face of adversity or failure, she could always achieve her dreams. Her brother.
Kara, on her part, seems lost in her own thoughts for her own moment until she rolls from her bed and crawls onto Lena’s, and for another moment neither moves nor speaks, they just lay there thinking about the things that they’ve lost.
Then Kara’s hand reaches out, clasps Lena’s, and she talks. About miniscule things, about her and Alex’s adventures and a sordid roadtrip that should never be repeated in front of their mother because they’d both be in so much trouble. They fall asleep like that, with Kara’s whispered stories and their hands loosely intertwined between them like a lifeline.
When Lena wakes up Kara is still holding her hand and, for the first time since she lost her brother, she feels like she has someone who will always be there. Someone to call home.
(And she was definitely in love with her).
Lena offers to drive. She convinces the both of them that it’s because Kara drove the day before but she knows that it’s more than that. That it’s more to do with the fact that she needs to think about something else, needs to focus her brain on something other than Kara, Kara, Kara.
(It’s not really working).
At first she just spends her time watching Kara sleep, which she’s acutely aware sounds slightly creepy out of context, but she’s also aware that she couldn’t stop doing it even if she tried - which she honestly did try (for all of five minutes before she resigned herself to the inevitable).
She looks peaceful. That’s the first thing Lena notes. Kara carried the weight of two worlds on her shoulders, carried the burden of every life in National City on her conscience. But now she looked so serene, so unabashedly free from the chains she clamped around herself the moment she put on a cape and decided something needed to be done, decided she couldn’t sit around and watch innocent lives be lost if she could do something about it.
Right now there was no crinkle on her brow or pain lingering behind the spark in her eye. The pain that most people ignored. The pain that most people missed because they couldn’t understand it, because they hadn’t suffered the same ordeals, hadn’t lost someone so dear to them. The pain that Lena takes note of everyday, that drew Lena to Kara in the first place because she finally felt like maybe someone understood.
Then it strikes Lena how young Kara looks. Not that Kara doesn’t always look young. In fact, Lena remembers the first time she found out Kara was two years older than her. She’d actually laughed in her face until Kara huffed and produced her driving license as evidence. But this was something else. This was Kara without responsibilities and likely dreaming of something absurd like potsticker clouds and a chocolate river. Unrestricted. Uninhibited. Young.
Afterwards, like she knew she inevitably would, Lena thinks about how effortlessly beautiful Kara looks with her face devoid of make-up. Her hair dishevelled. Her lips parted with quiet breaths and the slightest hint of dribble pooling at the corner of her mouth that Lena should really think is unhygienic, but finds herself thinking is far more cute than it should ever really be. She’s light where Lena is dark. Colourful where Lena is monochromatic.
She’s unfathomable, and ineffable, and... beautiful.
Lena spends hours avoiding potholes and taking corners with alarmingly tentative caution just to give Kara a few more moments of peace. To give herself a few more moments to muddle her way through her midnight epiphanies and to admire Kara for a few more unadulterated seconds.
But then Kara opens her eyes and Lena’s struck by the realisation that Kara is so much more beautiful awake then she could ever be asleep. Hit by the thought that she likes the fire simmering in those blue, blue eyes and the steel in her shoulders like she’s ready to fight the day, to seize it, to conquer it. She likes the drive, and the passion, and the want to make this world safer than her last.
It’s what makes Kara beautiful. And although Lena would do anything to take Kara’s pain away, she knows it’s what makes her Kara. She knows it’s what makes her love her.
“How long have I been out?”
“About four hours.”
“You should have woken me up,” Kara insists before sitting up straight as though something seems to occur to her suddenly. “Have you been sitting in silence this entire time?” Lena takes a moment to take in the rumble of the engine and the vague swoosh of the air through the small opening in the window where she rolled it down a few hours before until she realises there are no other sounds to be heard.
“Apparently so,” Lena admits. Though she quite obviously omits the fact that the only reason she did so was because she was too busy focusing on the flaws she couldn’t find on Kara’s face to think about the fact that she didn’t have background music for her creeping.
“Quick question - do you also happen to sit in your apartment alone with all the lights off, ominously stroking a cat named Sir Murders-A-Lot?”
“No,” Lena defends quickly before sending Kara a teasing smile and tagging on, “my cat’s name is Tesla.” Lena won’t pretend the booming laugh that Kara responds with wasn’t exactly what she was searching for with that joke (mostly because not even she would believe herself).
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Kara exclaims, scrambling into the back of the car, almost kicking Lena in the face in the process, before rummaging through her bag dutifully and smiling triumphantly when she manages to pull, evidently home decorated, CD’s from the confines of her rucksack.
“You made me a mixtape?” Lena quips.
“I made us a mixtape,” Kara throws back easily.
“I can’t wait to see what you’ve put on there.”
“You’ll love it,” Kara promises.
She doesn’t. She really, truly, honestly does not love it. If she were being fully candid Lena may even go as far as to say that she rather hated it. It being the music choices. Kara’s melodic voice signing along to every single song? That she didn’t mind so much. She actually kind of loved the way Kara bounced in her seat and mimed a microphone with her fist like Lena was the audience for her one woman production.
It was nice to see Kara excited, and happy, and having real, unadulterated fun for the first time in what seemed like forever for those who cared about her, but everyone has their limits. Everyone has their limits and even if Lena does think that Kara is the best thing that has ever happened to her, she doesn’t quite think she can endure another song that sounds like it’s meant to be blasted at some awkward middle school prom where people are forced to dance three feet apart.
“Kara I will turn this car around if you play one more Katy Perry song,” Lena threatens.
Kara smirks, switches the CD.
...Disney.
Lena sighs.
(That doesn’t mean she doesn’t nail her part in ‘A Whole New World’
She absolutely does).
They make it to the chair in the dead of night.
Lena won’t pretend that she’s hugely impressed with it, even considering its stature. But Kara stares at it with a quiet kind of awe that Lena’s never seen projected at a rocking chair before. It’s a kind of look that Lena thinks holds more meaning than at first glance but she doesn’t question it quite yet.
They lose themselves to their thoughts and to the silence for a moment. Lena’s mostly just pondering about how long it would take her to personally build a chair larger than this one until she feels a chill run through her bones. The silence remains concrete as Kara slips her jacket onto Lena’s shoulders and continues on staring like she’s contemplating life itself.
“Won’t you get cold?” Lena asks and it’s a stupid question. A stupid question with a sure answer.
“Kryptonians don’t get cold. Not here.” It’s the not here that makes Lena think the thoughtful look on Kara’s face is about something more than a (loosely coined – by Kara) marvel of the modern world. It’s the not here that makes Lena realise Kara isn’t silent because she’s contemplating life but because there are words on the tip of her tongue that she hasn’t figured out how to phrase just yet. It’s the not here that reminds Lena this trip was about forgetting, and moving on, and healing - even if that healing begins and ends with a chair that has no business being the size it is.
“Well are we sitting on this thing or what?” Lena baits and allows herself a soft smile when Kara’s face momentarily lights up with excitement. Then she begins to wonder how exactly she was planning on getting herself onto the thing. The confusion must shine through on her features however, because not a second later she finds herself cradled familiarly against Kara’s chest as she checks the coast is clear and flies them up onto the seat.
Kara doesn’t remove her arm from around Lena’s shoulder as they sit back and Lena takes the excuse to curl into her heat, tucking her head beneath Kara’s chin and wrapping her arm securely around her waist. She’ll blame it on the cold later on, or the fact that she’s not entirely sure on the safety of the chair, or some ridiculously potent fear of heights (that last one wasn’t so much of a lie).
Lena almost asks if it’s lived up to expectation until she realises Kara’s body is trembling beneath her grip and before she can mimic back the ‘I thought Kryptonians didn’t get cold’ that’s on the tip of her tongue she realises that Kara’s crying. She halts completely for a moment because she’s not sure what to say, not sure exactly how she’s supposed to comfort a crying friend, not sure exactly how she’s supposed to make it better.
“I’m not sure the chair’s that good,” is what she settles on and she revels in the wet laugh it produces from Kara. She sits up straight then. Catches Kara’s face softly between her hands and focuses her attention on gently wiping away the steady stream of tears with her thumbs as she waits for Kara to build up the courage to meet her curious gaze. She doesn’t force it. Just sits. Touch comforting. Eyes soft and patient.
“Thank you,” Kara mumbles after a suspended silence.
“For what?”
“For doing this,” Kara replies, arm sweeping wide as she gestures out to the horizon. Lena’s eyes follow the movement and honestly she really does need to get down soon because it was far higher than she first thought. “For caring enough to push past my boundaries, and for trying to help even when I was being stubborn, and for coming on a trip that I hadn’t planned at all even though you’re far too busy and important to drop everything on a whim.”
“I’m never too busy or important for you, Kara.” It’s too much of a confession. If it were another life Lena might take it a step further, might be honest as to why, might admit to Kara that she’s in love with her. But it’s not. And she doesn’t. Instead she allows the confession to linger in the air between them.
“You’re my best friend.” Lena lets Kara’s next words smash some sense into her, lets them push aside the thoughts of kissing Kara right there and then with no regards for the consequences. Then she just lets them warm her because she could still remember a time in her youth when she would’ve given anything to have a best friend, a confidante, a companion. If she’s being truthful that time wasn’t all that long ago.
“You’re just trying to butter me up so I say yes to going to the world’s largest ball of yarn.” She’d seen Kara eyeing the map all day, sneaking peeks at Lena every so often like she was trying to telepathically imprint the idea into Lena’s brain so she’d think it was her own suggestion.
“It’s only like nine hours away.”
“Only nine? We better get driving.” Lena melts into the embrace Kara pulls her into. She’s set ablaze by the kiss Kara presses to her cheek - the one that’s a little too close to her mouth, a little too soft, a little too long. And when Kara floats them back down to the ground, Lena expects them to separate but instead Kara keeps them tethered by their hands, not letting go even as she has to adapt to switching gears with them interlocked.
She must not mind the inconvenience because when the sunlight calls Lena back to the land of the living, she still finds her hand tucked safely into Kara’s.
After Lena wakes up and realises, even for a legitimate alien, not having had a hot shower for a few days and running on about four hours of sleep can’t be too good for someone’s wellbeing, she talks Kara into allowing them to stop at a motel that actually has a star to its name.
After sleeping on a mattress that only feels half like it has a personal vendetta against her and a shower that was actually a step up from lukewarm for once, Lena almost feels like she’s in a stupor – one that she’s quickly torn from as her elation turns to confusion at the sight in front of her.
That sight being, Kara, sitting slouched on the edge of her bed, staring quizzically at something in her hand in almost the same manner Lena had become accustomed to seeing right before actual lasers poured out of her eye sockets.
“Is there a reason you’re eyeing that half eaten candy bar so intensely?” She can’t imagine it had done something to jeopardise the safety of the human race or to hinder justice, but she also maybe could because she’d seen far weirder things in National City (and yes, she was referring to the excited jig Winn always did when he finally solved something).
“I found it at the bottom of my bag and I don’t remember buying it recently.”
“...okay,” Lena responds hesitantly because if this was going the way she thinks it was going, she was almost certain she wasn’t going to enjoy the elaboration that was sure to follow.
“Do you reckon I could eat it?” And she was right.
“Could? Sure. Should? Definitely not.”
“I’m gonna eat it,” Kara says steadfastly and Lena wonders just how she came to be this way. It was almost like she enjoyed testing things out just to see what would happen. Lena supposed she got that curiosity from Alex if the stories of their youthful escapades were any indication.
Although she did wonder at what point Alex stopped pretending to herself that she was only testing Kara’s powers because of scientific curiosity and admitted she just thought it was funny to do ridiculous things because Kara couldn’t get hurt (she imagined it was somewhere between the breath holding competitions in the pool and the potato launcher).
“Kara, don—And you’re eating it,” Lena sighs. “Is it at least good?”
“So good,” Kara replies, mouth firmly pulled into a grin. Lena’s own smile follows not long after because, even if she’s slightly repulsed by what just happened, Kara does look cute with bulging cheeks and a devious glint that makes Lena think Kara ate it just to make Lena’s eye twitch.
“You really need to have a vegetable, or a fruit, or something soon.” Literally anything other than the litany of candy bars, and chocolates, and self-serving nachos that Lena didn’t trust the hygiene of in the slightest but still found herself oddly attached to anyway.
Lena missed kale. And yes, she was aware of how stupid that sounded. But she just wanted to eat something that was green and not flavoured like an artificial apple or that had at least spent a week sitting on some shelf gathering dust because no one else had dared to buy it.
“This is grape,” Kara argues, examining the empty wrapper in her hand before managing to throw it perfectly into the bin without looking or any real effort. It’s perhaps more than a little ridiculous that Lena actually finds herself slightly impressed by the display (read: it’s completely stupid but Lena is incredibly gay and in love with a dork).
“That doesn’t count. Okay, you know what, we passed an actual restaurant a mile back and we’re going to have an actual meal right now, and you’re going to have at least three vegetables,” Lena says resolutely, aiming high with her demands purposely because she can tell by the pout on Kara’s face what her exact response is going to be.
“Two,” Kara counters.
Lena smirks.
This was why she was running a multibillion dollar company.
“Deal.”
Lena’s more than a little proud of herself until they make it to the restaurant and Kara plays her at her own game. She really should have seen it coming. For someone that everyone thought was so innocent and unassuming, Kara really did have a penchant for finding loopholes and breaking rules quietly and politely enough that no one really questioned it.
She’s been eyeing Kara’s plate with faint disdain for a good few minutes before Kara tears her eyes, and mouth, away from her fries for long enough to take any real note.
“What? It’s got lettuce, tomato and onion. That’s two vegetables and a fruit,” Kara justifies and Lena hates that it’s true. She hates that she’d let herself enjoy a self-assured smile, had mentally patted herself on the back, only for Kara to pull one over on her (and without the use of the pout or any of her other many adorable persuasion techniques).
“It’s a burger,” Lena deadpans.
“You never specified what the vegetables had to go with. Did you actually think I was gonna get a salad?” Lena doesn’t think Kara has ever sounded more incredulous in her life. Looking down at her own meal, kale and all, she can see how that might have been too high of an expectation - or even possibly the most ridiculous expectation she’d ever had in her life.
“I suppose that was a bit much to expect.”
“Anyway, don’t act like you haven’t been eyeing up my fries since they got here.” They did look good. Okay. Rephrase. They looked phenomenal, and smelled even better, and Kara‘s friendship definitely came alongside Kara’s - apparently innate - need to ruin any and all balanced diets being enjoyed around her. Lena had discovered that need after the fifth time Kara brought her donuts and just before the third time she decided Lena should ditch her office salad lunch for a pizza date (not the kind Lena really wanted she now realised but a request she gave into anyhow).
She holds off for a few moments after Kara has pushed the plate towards her, tries to act like Kara isn’t completely right. But she is completely right and Lena doesn’t have the willpower spare to deny herself any longer. Kara’s smile is smug as she happily munches on her burger, every so often pushing her plate a little closer to Lena’s side of the table in a silent gesture to take a few more.
It’s perhaps a little odd that Lena finds the act so touching, though maybe not so much when you consider that the first time they ate together Lena had accidentally reached a little close to Kara’s plate and received a glare she hadn’t even known the caped crusader was capable of.
It’s the part of her that’s touched that buys Kara a desert meant for six people. It’s the other part of her that is both impressed and slightly nauseated when she finishes it without breaking a sweat.
Kara pulls Lena in for the victory photo she’s asked to have taken that gets stuck onto the diner wall next to only one other man who’s at least five times the size of Kara.
Lena’s a little in love with it. The slight blur. The edge of a thumb poking up from the corner. The chocolate sauce spread heartily around Kara’s mouth and the grin on her own face that looks more real than any that’s come before. She looks so free, and happy, and like maybe her world didn’t implode the day she built a lead bomb because Kara hadn’t left her behind like she thought she might. In fact, she’d taken Lena along for the ride and for once in her life; Lena was enjoying not knowing what was around the corner.
(Lena asks the waitress for the photo before they leave.
Kara smiles, bright and wide when she slips it into the sun visor of the car).
The giant ball of yarn is about as exciting as Lena was expecting, which was to say it wasn’t very exciting at all. It mostly just smelled if she was being quite honest. But Kara had smiled along as the man, who sounded about as interested as Lena herself, spewed off some script about its conception.
Thankfully they hadn’t stayed long.
Less thankfully they apparently weren’t the only people who had decided to visit Kansas.
“Only doubles?” Kara asks for what feels like the millionth time. At this point Lena’s heard it so many times that she’s beginning to doubt they’re even real words. They were certainly not doing any good with the incredibly bored looking woman over the counter.
“That’s what I said,” she replies plainly, tacking on an eye roll for good measure that Lena quickly responds to with a glare of her own. Just because she was started to get a little offended at the prospect of Kara being so against having to share a bed with her, doesn’t mean she wasn’t willing to defend her honour, even if it was only against a half asleep worker.
“That’ll be fine,” Lena says quickly before Kara can lead them back into the same repetitive circle. “We can’t luck out every time,” she offers with a shrug, taking the key from the woman over the counter. She really hopes she pulls off the nonchalant look she was going for since she was having somewhat of a complete meltdown internally because why couldn’t this have happened before she realised the huge, lingering under the surface, crush she had on Kara.
Thankfully, what she presumes is her own evident awkwardness, is overshadowed by the fact that Kara seems incredibly nervous and she’s not even trying to hide it. Case and point - the second Kara steps foot out of the bathroom in her pyjamas, she stands stock-still and stares at the bed with unbridled anxiety, and Lena can’t work out why for the life of her.
Was she afraid she’d crush her fragile human body in her sleep? Did she hate sharing a bed? Did she just hate the idea of sharing a bed with Lena because she wasn’t as oblivious as she seemed and knew Lena had a huge crush on her?
God, Lena really hoped it wasn’t the last one.
“So how do you want to do this?” Lena doesn’t even think about the phrasing until she watches a familiar redness coat Kara’s cheeks. “I meant do you have a preference?”
Was that better?
“Preference?” Kara chokes out and Lena decides the answer is definitely no, that was not better phrasing in the slightest. It may even have made things slightly worse, except now Lena had started thinking about Kara, thinking about them in bed together, doing a bunch of things that weren’t sleeping, and so it definitely made things way worse. So much worse.
“On a side of the bed.”
“Of course, obviously, duh. Um, the left?”
“Great,” Lena says, getting into the bed without another word. It feels awkward at first, as Kara shuffles about unsurely, trying to find the best position and Lena wonders why it suddenly feels so weird when it really shouldn’t be.
They were friends. They’d fallen asleep in the same bed before. Expect that was an accident and this felt oddly intimate, which may have been a direct result of Lena having come to the realisation that they were in the honeymoon suite (not that it was really up to a standard that she could imagine people really using it for that).
She’s not really sure what compels her to do it. Probably some unknown force of the universe that wants to make her suffer just that little bit more. But the next time Kara shifts and sighs, Lena finds herself catching her arm and slipping it around her own waist.
Now, she’d never really imagined herself the little spoon. She’d actually never really imagined herself spooning but here she was and it wasn’t horrible. Kara tightens her hold and relaxes into her back. It was actually really... not horrible. It was nice. Just like most things with Kara were nice, even giant balls of twine that smelled terrible and really didn’t deserve to be considered an attraction, because Kara was nice.
And warm.
And smelt like strawberries and honey.
And had arms that were extremely strong and toned and were terribly good at making Lena have wildly inappropriate thoughts.
“Better?”
“Yeah,” Kara replies, nestling in tighter and sighing contentedly into Lena’s neck. Lena who hadn’t really thought this plan through at all. Lena who spends at least an hour after Kara falls asleep wondering what she’s dreaming about and being too distracted by the rhythmic fluttering of Kara’s heart against her back to even think about sleeping herself.
Eventually she lulls herself off to Kara’s soft mumblings of a language Lena would spend her entire life learning just to earn a smile, and the gentle pressure of Kara’s arm around her waist.
When Lena wakes up, it’s to a blinking clock telling her it’s far too early to be awake and a pair of blue eyes watching her from across a shared pillow. She almost speaks, almost breaks the prominent silence that fills the room, but something stops her. That something being the indiscernible look on Kara’s face. The way she’s watching Lena like she’s searching for something and Lena has absolutely no idea what it may be but she’s almost afraid that Kara won’t find whatever it is, that she’ll look away and they’ll add this to the list of things they never explicitly talk about.
“Beautiful,” Kara whispers, wistful and thoughtless like she hadn’t actually meant to say the word aloud and Lena gasps as the air catches in her lungs, but Kara doesn’t scramble to take it back. She doesn’t blush, or stammer, or talk herself around in circles of explanations. She just lets it rest in the air between them and for a second Lena feels exactly that. Beautiful.
She’s felt desired, and craved, and lusted after but she’s never really had someone look at her like she was beautiful, like she was awe-inspiring and worthy and really, truly wanted in a way that was more than just physical. It strikes something in her. It makes her feel stupid. Make her feel reckless. Makes her feel like kissing Kara wouldn’t be so ludicrous... and maybe it wouldn’t.
She can see the tremble in her hand as she pushes a strand of hair behind Kara’s ear. She can feel the tremor of her bones as she lets her fingers linger behind on Kara’s cheek. She can practically hear the blood coursing through her body as her thumb lightly brushes Kara’s lower lip. She can taste her hammering heart in her mouth as she finally inches closer.
And a little closer...
And closer...
So close.
Kara phone rings. Lena pulls back sharply. Kara doesn’t shift so quickly, but she reaches towards the ringing anyway, even if she does grumble the entire time. Lena might have even taken the time to think it were cute if she weren’t currently too busy overanalysing an almost kiss, that almost happened, and that was almost the highlight of her life.
“You said you had it covered... Alex, I can’t...Yeah...Just hold the fort for a little longer, please... Love you too, bye.” Lena’s up and out of the bed before Kara has even hung up, instead taking the distraction to slip into the bathroom to take a breath.
They almost kissed.
Almost.
And now Lena had left Kara, confused and alone, in the bed they almost kissed in. Because they almost just kissed. They almost just kissed and it was Lena that initiated it. It was also Lena who really needed to calm down so that she could focus on forming a plan. A plan on how to fully ignore what just happened in the event that she read all the signals wrong and that Kara didn’t really want her to kiss her.
What if Kara didn’t want her to kiss her?
Lena stops her mental pacing for a moment. Takes a deep breath. She puts one leg through her jean. Then the other. Her shirt over her head. Takes a look at herself in the mirror as she splashes water onto heated skin. She looks happy, is the first thing she thinks. She looks happy, and refreshed, and thoroughly like she just woke up and almost kissed her best friend who she was in love with.
For a split second when her hand falls upon the cold steel of the door handle, she debates walking straight back into the room and kissing Kara before she can even realise what’s happening, before she can talk herself out of it, before Kara can tell her she didn’t feel the same way or that it was a mistake.
Just a second.
But she won’t because she’s a coward, and because she thinks Kara’s better than her, and knows that they deserves more than for their first kiss to be in some sketchy motel in a town that Lena hopes she never has to visit again.
(It’s mostly just because she’s scared.
In the cold light of day, away from a warm bed and sleep dusted eyes, she’s scared).
“So apparently National City can’t handle things without us,” Kara says the moment Lena steps back into the room, both of them dressed for the day and Lena wonders if this is their thing now, almost having something and then never talking about it, wonders how many elephants can fit in one room.
“Do you need to fly back?” Lena responds immediately because she won’t be the one to make them talk about it and because she wants Kara to have an out. She wants to give her the chance to run and hide and ignore that this ever happened without being stuck in a car for hours upon hours, to give her a chance to figure out if this was what she really wanted. If Lena was what she really wanted (and maybe it was a little about giving herself time to hide too).
“No, we’re driving. There’s something else we have to see before we go home.” Kara shuffles her out of the room and towards the car excitedly - far too excitedly for someone who just got told they had to cut their vacation time short to go back to getting shouted at by a balding man and punched in the face by whatever villain of the week appeared.
“Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“No."
“It’s not the giant fork is it?” It was probably the giant fork. Oh God, what if she had to go and pretend that she liked the giant fork.
“Nope.”
“What about the-“
“Just get in the car, Lena,” Kara cuts her off and all Lena can do is chuckle at the huff she produces and follow along without question. Lena thinks she might just follow Kara anywhere if she asked. She knows she definitely would if it made Kara produce that one dazzling smile that made all her worries seem so insignificant (that doesn’t still mean she’d rather the destination be something other than a huge utensil by the roadside).
Lena doesn’t pay much attention to the roads as they drive along. Her mind was instead mostly just a cycle of three thoughts. One - Kara actually had a wonderful signing voice. Two - Kara looked remarkably pretty with the sunrise pouring over the horizon and into the car. And three - She had almost kissed the remarkably pretty girl with the melodic voice mere hours ago.
The third one was definitely the most prominent.
The lack of focus on anything beyond Kara, and the occasional forty winks, is the reason that, when Kara gently strokes her shoulder and mumbles her name, she gasps. She opens her eyes and she gasps because she didn’t expect it, because she somehow stupidly never quite thought she’d get to see it, because Kara had listened, and cared, and drove, and put off her life for a day longer so that Lena could see this.
“Kara,” Lena whispers reverently as Kara steps out from the car and rounds it to open Lena’s door too. She holds out her hand tentatively and Lena can’t help but simply stare at it for a moment. Can’t help but notice the slight tremor to Kara’s fingers, the shake that says she’s almost afraid she’s taken this too far, that Lena didn’t really want this, that Lena won’t take her hand.
(She will...
She does).
“Come on, I didn’t break like fifty speed laws and almost bust the engine of this beauty, just for you to miss the sunset.” Lena lets Kara tug them along, enjoying the weight of Kara’s hand in her own and the comfortable silence they allow to surround them. She doesn’t trust herself to speak. Not yet. Not when she can feel her emotions thick in her throat. Not when the only thing she really wants to say to Kara in that moment is I’m in love with you.
“It’s amazing,” is what Lena finally settles on saying as they stare out at the canyon, the image blurred by the tears in her eyes. For a second she pretends that Lex is by her side. Lex, curly haired and smiling because he’d convinced the chef to make them cookies. Lex, bright eyed and hoping to make the world a better place without misguided intentions.
Then she just sees Kara. Kara who is still bright eyed and wide smiles in spite of everything she’s been through, because of everything she’d been through. Kara who made her feel like she was allowed to miss what was and what could have been. Kara who helped her heal. Kara who Lena hoped she might have just helped heal too in some small way.
“It really is,” Kara replies and Lena knows she’s not watching the sunset. She can feel her eyes on her. She can see the soft smile Kara projects in her peripheral. And maybe this moment was special enough, maybe with the gentle stream of light over the horizon and Kara looking at her like she was beautiful despite being chipped away and broken, it was enough.
It should have been enough.
But Lena can’t bring herself to kiss her, can’t convince herself that this will be anything more than some other heart-wrenching memory in her life when they get back to National City and nothing has changed, can’t convince herself that Kara could ever care for her in the way she cared for Kara because what could she ever give her that equalled what Kara gave her.
So instead Lena holds Kara’s hand and stares out at the second most beautiful thing she’s ever seen, hoping it’ll somehow be enough.
It needs to be enough.
(It’s not).
It’s not enough.
It takes three rest stops at some variably sketchy gas stations and the sight of Kara managing to stuff an entire chocolate sprinkled donut in her mouth at once for Lena to realise that it’s not enough, and that she needs to stop being too afraid to change that.
It takes four internal pep talks and twelve songs that she absolutely abhors for Lena to come to the conclusion that she needs to stop hiding behind her excuses. She can’t hide behind her guilt, or Mon-El, or her complete and utter terror that Kara won’t feel the same way. She can’t hide behind her past or keep finding new fears for the future. If this roadtrip had taught her anything (other than that snoring could be adorable) it was that she had to live in the present.
It takes one random superstore with harsh lighting and monotonous music for Lena to do something crazy. It takes one look at Kara, staring intently between two candy bars like the decision could make or break her for Lena to throw caution to the wind.
Kara looks up at the sound of glass shattering as the bottle of peach Snapple Lena was holding precariously slips from her hand and crashes to the floor. She doesn’t get a chance to ask the question on the edge of her tongue before Lena’s lips crash into hers.
Lena’s hands are gentle as they rest on Kara’s cheeks, her lips not so much so as she finally gives into the thoughts that have been actively plaguing her mind for days. Kara freezes for a moment before her entire body seems to startle into motion, her hands settling around Lena’s waist and tugging her that last inch closer until there was nothing left between them.
Kara’s jaw is sharp beneath Lena’s hands. Her lips soft and pliant with Lena’s touch. And, honestly, Lena hadn’t put much stock into kissing prior to that moment. Sure she had enjoyed it but she hadn’t come to expect some fairytale experience and, whilst there still weren’t any metaphorical fireworks, kissing Kara felt like coming home.
It felt like finally breathing after being underwater until your lungs held their last remnants of air, like slipping into a hot bath at the end of a long day, like lying in a field for hours upon end and picking nonsensical shapes out of clouds like you didn’t have a care in the word. It was comforting, and warm, and made her feel like she might just be floating.
(They better not have been actually floating).
Kara kisses with languid ease and boundless adoration. She kisses with a precise mouth and wandering hands. She kisses with stuttering breaths and a sure pace. Lena kisses with a half smile and trembling lips. She kisses with a shocked mouth and a fluttering heart rate. She kisses with an unabashed fervour that stems from the thought of this being the last time she ever gets to do this.
It’s a kiss built from slow lips and iron grasps. A kiss made from tangible almosts and the lingering thoughts of a thousand what ifs and the very need to just finally know that you’re not the only one who feels like there’s a storm of butterflies in your stomach and a herd of elephants stampeding in your chest. It’s an admission, and a prayer, and quite honestly the best kiss Lena has ever had.
“Can the women in aisle four please stop making out? I’ve had several complaints and one very excited teenage boy.” Lena pulls away reluctantly as the voice sounds over the tannoy. She immediately wants to dive back in the second she takes note of the blossoming blush on Kara’s cheeks and her fluttering eyelids but she restrains herself.
“I think that’s us,” Kara points out needlessly and Lena feels a tug in her chest at the breathless tone she adopts - the one she created, the one that she can just sense will be replaying over and over again in her mind whenever she tries to do something productive anytime soon.
“I think you’re right.”
“I almost thought you weren’t going to kiss me.”
“I wasn’t,” Lena admits because why not throw caution to the wind and be truthful one more time. She hadn’t planned it at all, hence the sticky juice seeping into her shoes and the multiple spectators that really just wanted a chocolate bar but had decided to stop for the show.
In actual fact her plan had been to pretend nothing even remotely romantic happened on their roadtrip, and then throw herself completely into work until she could get a grip on her feelings and actually look Kara in the eye without wanting to throw herself at her. But then Kara just had to go and look cute and incredibly kissable in some ridiculous tourist shirt she picked up in Kansas and Lena just... well she threw herself at her.
“What changed your mind?”
“No one should look good in this lighting and somehow you look radiant.” It was honestly a little unfair. Yes, Kara was literally out of this world, but how was it that she had exactly zero bad angles?
“Radiant, huh? You look pretty nice yourself.”
“I’d look nicer under the glow of expensive hotel lights,” Lena says, brow cocked in an obvious invitation, her mind already conjuring images of soft sheets that were actually washed and a memory foam mattress (and maybe Kara lying on it, hair spread on the pillows, a breathless smile plastered on her lips and Lena’s name on the tip of her tongue).
“What about mediocre lights in a rent-controlled apartment?” Kara offers with a grin.
“Even better.”
“Great. I know just the place.” They leave the store with a sheepish grin to the man at the announcement desk and their hands intertwined. And, whilst Lena still thinks the Grand Canyon beats out the world’s largest anything every time, nothing compares to the sight of Kara as she tugs Lena into her apartment with a lively smile and daring eyes.
(Except maybe Kara making Lena breakfast in the morning in Lena’s stupid science pun shirt...
She really needs to burn that).