Holy Holy Holidate

by Locks_and_keys

Summary:

With Lex recently engaged, her best friend constantly trying to set her up, and fed up with being single on holidays after a nasty break up, Lena strikes a deal with Pro golfer Kara Danvers to be each other's platonic plus-ones all year long, only to catch real feelings along the way. AKA, the Holidate AU with tweaks here and there, with an out and proud nonbinary Kara Danvers.

Notes:

Hey everyone! This fic is based on the Netflix movie Holidate, one of my favorite movies ever. I definitely recommend giving it a watch if ya haven't yet. It's the only hetero love story I've been able to tolerate in years lol. Hope you enjoy me shoehorning the most insane Aussie slang into the dialogue of this entire thing. Happy holidays!

Chapter 1: Christmas

The Uber pulls away from the curb, still blasting Jingle Bells from its speakers. Thus leaving Lena Luthor to make her way onto the icy front porch of her childhood home in Logan Square while coming to the conclusion that she’s thoroughly out of time to stall. Still, she decides she might as well light up one last stress induced cig. She’s already late anyway.

“Fucking holidays.” She mutters around the Marlboro, blowing the smoke into the cold Chicago night. Hood up over her head, she takes a minute to look around at the brightly lit front of the house. She truly has been dreading going home this year, and it’s almost like the surroundings mock her. The Luthor house is decorated to the nines, like it has been since she was a kid. Lilian Luthor always goes all out. Or rather, the people she hires to put up all the decorations do. All around her is a symphony of holiday cheer. 

Vintage large bulb string lights line the eaves of the house, lighting up the roof and the trim of the Chicago suburban mcmansion with red, blue, green, yellow, and orange. It’s been snowing pretty heavily this year, covering the glowing candy cane lined driveway in more than a few inches of festive powder. Blow Mold Santas line the porch and the front yard next to the glowing manger scene, making Lena feel crowded despite being outside. To top it all off, a big holiday wreath sits on the front door, cheerful red ribbon and holly berries weaving in and out of its glass bulb decorated branches. 

A sharp ache of melancholy pulls at her chest. Suddenly it’s too cold out here, too dark, and she’s too alone. Whatever it is, it snaps her out of her thoughts immediately with a vehement determination not to go down that path. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on that shit anymore. She’s happy. She’s happy being alone. She’s happy being alone and why shouldn’t she be and why do people keep bothering her about it, really? Because they’re miserable with their own lives. That’s why. She’s happy , damn it.

“Let’s just get this over with.” She whispers. Burning the cigarette down to the filter, she digs around in her pocket with one hand while putting out the ember on the top of the nearest Santa. Finally feeling the little plastic rectangle, Lena takes her hand out of her pocket, now clutching a box of tic tacs. She pops two, then three, hoping it’s enough to cover the smell of the cigarette. If it’s not, she’ll never hear the end of it, and Lilian never has any trouble coming up with things to nag her about. 

With one last fortifying breath, Lena walks through the door. “Merry Christmas.” She calls into the house. She doesn’t quite manage to sound thrilled.

Lilian is on her in a second. A lioness jumping a gazelle comes to Lena’s mind briefly. The picture of matriarchal grace, her adoptive mother strolls towards her with arms outstretched. Lena feels her body involuntarily stiffen. Her hair is immaculate in its usual updo, showing off the glittering diamond earrings and necklace combo. A festive red apron is tied around her waist, paired with a holiday blouse covered by an array of christmas pins over the front. It’s probably cashmere. 

“This is what you wear to dinner?” Lilian asks innocently enough. Lena’s stomach churns. “Don’t you even own a dress?” 

“I’m great mom, thanks.” She deadpans over the other woman’s shoulder as she’s swept into a polite but stiff embrace. Greeting her this way is a bit of a toss up, since an attitude like that usually just makes her adoptive mother’s judgment worse, but Lena honestly can’t bring herself to care much. It’s always like this with her. A little dance of appearances that she got taught the steps to at an age too young. Lilian smells like her signature perfume, Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. Not very cheery, in her opinion. Lena tries not to inhale it too deeply. Sense memories and all that. “House looks beautiful.” She comments blankly as they walk through the hallway towards the open living room. 

Lilian leans into her personal space to conspire, dropping her voice low. “Well, your aunt Rhea brought home the mall Santa, and your nephew just pooped in the manger.” The older woman’s face goes stony, a wayward glance going to the surroundings in a ‘woe is me expression’.  

Lena has to actively fight off a gleeful smile as they round the corner, giving sight to her Aunt Rhea, dressed from head to toe in a gaudy, sexy Mrs. Claus outfit. The random man’s lap she’s sitting on appears to be the mall santa, laughing along with her near the fireplace while dressed in a shabby red coat with faux fur at the cuff. Rhea sees Lena, giving the two of them a little wave before going back to feeding her date cookie bits out of her hand. Lena should have expected the living room to look just as decorated as the front of the house, but the Christmas tree in the corner, stockings up along the bricks of the fireplace, and the lights everywhere still manages to make her a little overwhelmed.

“Ugh, it was a tiny poop. And he moved the baby Jesus first!” a voice behind her rings out in a near vocal fry. Lena whips around, grateful to see a familiar face besides Lilian’s. Her oldest friend, Sam, has appeared out of nowhere, drink in hand as she strides towards Lena to pull her into a hug. She looks classy as ever from head to toe, from the purple velvet dress to the heels that click on her feet. Sam and Lena gravitate towards each other, walking together now further into the house.

“Hi.” Lena says, just as Sam pulls her into a much warmer hug than she had received from her mother. 

“Hi,” Sam says back. “Merry Christmas.”

“Did you bring Ruby?” Lena asks, trying to hide her sudden excitement. Maybe coming wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“Of course. Where else would we go?” Sam asks back. Lena tightens the hug a bit, sudden excitement dulling. She really can’t hold onto excitement for very long tonight. She feels dysregulated. Her emotions always bounce around when she comes to this house, her therapist had given her some strategies for it.

It’s been a few years since Ruby’s father had died, but the loss of Sam’s adoptive mother had only happened recently in the last two years or so. It wasn’t uncommon for Sam to spend the holidays with Lena’s family before then though. Her relationship with her mother had been strained for the last twelve years after Sam’s pregnancy with Ruby. She had chosen not to marry Ruby’s father after finding out she was with child. Definitely a no go in the Arias household. If there’s anything she and Sam can understand, it’s strained adoptive parent relationships.    

“ I’m so glad you’re here. ” Lena whispers into her ear. Sam’s response is a gentle squeeze before they slip out of the hug.

“Gingerbread Elf?” Lilian asks loudly, wedging herself in between them to present a piled high plate of cookies, like she just knew they were about to share a moment of bonding at Lilian’s expense. Lena stares at the plate before taking one, just to be obedient. Sam starts walking her off towards the dining room with an arm slung over her shoulders, willowy model-esque frame and high heels giving her a significant height advantage over Lena than her usual four inches in flats. 

“Hey, so,” She starts. And Lena thinks to herself something elegant, something witty, something along the lines of, ‘here we fucking go’, as her body stiffens.

“Rodney said you didn’t call him?” And… There it is. Lena is now fully back to being annoyed. Over the last year, her dear friend has picked up the most atrocious habit from Lilian. One Lena never thought she would have picked up; The never ending, incessant, overbearing effort to set her up with someone. Anyone. Even someone like Rodney. 

“I'm sorry, but I cannot date a professional clown.” She scoffs. Images of rainbow hair and a red nose flash behind her eyes. “I’d never sleep.” 

“Well, Jesus Lena, it's been six months. You gotta get back out there!” Sam prods. Lilian supplies her statement unhelpfully from behind them, where she had been trailing along waiting to jump in. 

“Well, how does she expect to meet anybody when she sits around the house all day wearing pajamas?” Lena’s not able to repress the eyeroll. 

“It’s called working remote, mother. My boss doesn't care what I wear as long as I meet my quota. He does, however, request that my mother stop facetiming me during work hours.” Lilian doesn’t have the nerve to look admonished. Lena had been about to say something nasty to Sam about how Sam hasn’t made any true efforts to get back out there since Ruby’s dad passed, so she’s actually pretty grateful Lilian cuts in when she does, even if it's to team up with Sam against her. The nightmares before Christmas persist.

“A word, Lena?” Lilian asks, feet coming to a stop. With extreme hesitancy on her part, Lena feels her feet stop too, like she’s just stepped into a hair trigger trap. In many ways, she sort of has been since she stepped foot in the door.  

Sam gives her an eyebrow raise, seeing where this is heading. Need me to stay? Is what that means. Lena meets her eye, thinks for a millisecond, then jerks her head indicatively towards the living room. Hit the bricks, it’s easier in the long run if she tears me down alone, is what that means. Just subtle enough of a movement to send her message right over Lilian’s head, like she’s had to do for several years at countless galas, fundraisers, birthdays... Sam nods back, eyes reluctant to leave Lena without backup but quickly making her exit. Lilian moves to stand in front of her, crossing her arms regally.  

“You’re not still smoking are you?” She drawls. Shit. Her tone tells Lena that she’s already convinced of it. Double shit.

“No mom, I’m not still smoking.” She lies, probably badly, given her mother’s pinched expression. She’s off her game. Lilian knows Lena never calls her ‘mom’ unless she’s trying to butter her up. “I had a smoky Uber.” To avoid eye contact and further words, Lena starts mindlessly chewing on the gingerbread cookie she’s been holding. Lilian sighs in that little, tight way that tells Lena she’s unconvinced. Triple shit.

“You haven’t used the driver we hired for you in ages.” Lilian comments. It's an accusation all dressed up pretty. Lilian disapproves of her transportation choices, obviously, because she thinks they make her look poor. Common. Not better than everyone else like a Luthor should be. Thus, in some fun house mirror way, making Luthors look poor, common, and not above everyone else.    

“Gave Harrison the holiday off, courtesy of L-Corp. He’s Christian, celebrating at home with his partner Jeff.” Lena answers quickly. Lilian’s lips purse.  

“Well, I know the holidays can be stressful,” She starts, hands up in front of her, “but no man wants to marry a smoker.” She goes to walk away, but not before leaning into her ear. “Who lies.” 

At that comment, Lena stiffens, head whipping around. “Why are you just assuming I’m going to start dating a man again?” 

Lena hadn’t made any real effort to be closeted at any time, especially given the fact that most of the other girls in her dorm in boarding school had been very open about their own sexualities. This very environment had led to Lena getting into a relationship with another girl during her first year, and it just made more sense not to hide it, or Lilian would have just sensed it as a source of shame and used it against her. Her adopted mother had acted mildly accepting when Lena had come out as bisexual all those years ago, and Lena thought that perhaps maybe one aspect of her personal life wouldn’t be poked at or closely examined under a microscope. But it was just that, an act. It’s clear in all her actions, spoken and unspoken. Any girlfriend Lena had brought home in college was always referred to as a ‘friend’, even when Lena had verbally corrected her several times. Any boyfriend was talked about as a potential husband. How he would fit into the public image of their family’s company, and if he came from a good family, and so on and so forth. They both know she would rather Lena not act on her attraction, or at least not near anyone she would know. But Lilian somehow seems to know everyone that wanders into her life. The rich run in small circles.     

Lilian immediately rolls her eyes skyward, waving her hand as if clearing away dust. Same face she always makes. “Oh dear, you’re being entirely too sensitive.” She says, with a little barely there smile that tells Lena she’s secretly enjoying getting a rise out of her for something. Lena’s hands curl into fists, an unreadable mask sliding smoothly over her features. It’s a practiced defense, coming in handy since childhood. Don’t show, don’t feel, don’t react. “Why shouldn’t I assume you’ll end up with a man? Especially after this latest fling, what was her name? Andrea? ” She asks it innocently enough, even though the words are dripping poison. “Please, no more of your dramatics. It's Christmas. No…” She hesitates, another smug smile drawing at the corners of her mouth, like she’s trying to hold in a laugh at the thought, like her being considerate of Lena’s lived experience is like indulging a small child’s fantasy, “No man looking to marry, or a woman, or… whatever, wants the dramatics either.” And with that, she saunters away. 

“Well, nobody wants a bitchy mother-in-law, so I guess that's three strikes.” Lena whispers to herself, finally biting the head off the gingerbread cookie. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she hasn’t seen Ruby yet, she would have been out of here by now. 

 

***

 

The night continues, as it must, so Lena finally finds a drink and a place to lay low for a little bit. Her mind stews, bitter and circulating. Why can’t everyone just stay out of her love life, and why do they all have such a narrow mindedness of what it should look like? The drink she’s found stays strong, since half of it is gone before the ice melts. 

Of course, her brief reprieve only lasts a minute or two. Her brother was bound to approach her eventually. It just so happens that he does it sneakily from behind, reaching out and almost making her swallow an ice cube at how startling it is to have someone’s fingers randomly start tickling your ribs while you’re mid sip.   

“You know it’s a holiday when my sister shows up alone .” He cajoles. Lena’s jaw clenches. Before she can respond, or recover from choking on her expensive drink, he uses his slight height advantage to pull her into a headlock. Childish . Eve, his most recent girlfriend, is standing a pace behind.

“Don’t rub it in! She’s obviously sad.” She scolds him. She’s kind of a timid thing, always overly polite to Lilian, but not in a brown nosing kind of way. It’s sort of a sheltered only child way. She’s wearing a modest blue dress with a white cardigan on her shoulders, as if she’s about to attend a Christmas church service. To escape the ridiculous headlock, Lena stomps unceremoniously on Lex’s foot. He howls, letting her lose and hopping on one shoe. “Quit it!” She hisses at him, trying to recover her dignity as she smooths down her hair and outfit.  

“I’m not sad, Eve.” She replies coolly. She’s trying to be nice to this one. Eve is the nicest person Lex has ever dated, albeit a little timid and doe eyed. She’s good for him, and comes from a family that Lilian highly approves of. The Teschmacher family has been running a fairly successful family bakery here in Chicago for the last three generations. They opened multiple locations around the seventies and became quite a lucrative household name. Lena’s just glad it's clean money, and that Lex finally picked someone their mother wouldn’t drive off. Come to think of it, Lena’s never seen him this interested in someone before. Lex hasn’t taken an interest in anyone in the last five years or so, ever since Conner came around.   

“Are you sure? You look really sad.” Eve says, mouth pulled wide in an awkward grimace. 

Lena slams back her drink before answering. “Nope! Not sad at all. More sad for you, since you have to date this loser. Lex, how are things going at LuthorCorp?” 

“They’re just fine, sister of mine.” Lex sings. A spark runs through the back of his eyes as he looks at her with a familiar expression. “But they’d be running a lot smoother if we still had you as our head of research.”

“Lex-”

“I’m just saying! What’s the point of being a chemical engineer if you don’t even get to wear a lab coat?”  

“I told you,” Lena starts firmly, “I’m not interested in working for L-Corp anymore.” 

Lex sighs overdramatically. “Seriously? Because of what happened with dad?” He asks. 

Lena blinks at him, surprised he’s getting right to the point. “Yes, actually. Don’t downplay what Lionel did, it was deplorable. You should know, you got washed away in the PR nightmare when you had to take over for him last year.” 

His mouth goes hard, arms crossing over his chest. “If he didn’t do what he did, I wouldn’t have been able to have Connor.” He mutters quietly. She’d been hoping they would be able to avoid this conversation, or at least prolong its inevitability till after dinner.

Lena stares at him, waiting patiently until her brother’s eyes meet hers. “I’m overjoyed you were able to have Connor, Lex. He’s the best nephew I could have asked for, and I’ve always known you would love being a father if you so chose. I’m beyond happy he’s here. Don’t ever mistake my disapproval of the circumstances of his birth for disapproval of him. But we both know now that the way Lionel went about it was ethically wrong, especially since he never planned on telling us himself. That’s probably why he wrote it into his will and took it to his grave. I also had other reasons for leaving L-Corp when I did. You all didn’t need me there as much as you think you do.” 

He opens his mouth to argue that, but Lena beats him to it. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not coming back. I know it’s devastating news for you that you’ll never have the chemical formula for that cure for baldness I discovered last week.” Lex scowls at her fiercely, crossing his arms tighter and wrinkling his dumb Christmas sweater so that it looks like the two bucks on the front are kissing. She can tell by how he does it that he’s not actually that upset about her bringing up Connor anymore. Beside them, Eve gives the side of Lex’s bald head a quizzical look before swooping in to side hug him. He still tries to scowl at her, but he visibly softens from Eve’s gesture. 

Lena’s about to comment on it, but then Conner rushes into the room with a shout, running past her and slamming into Lex’s legs. He smiles, sweeping him up off the floor with an airplane noise. 

“Boom! One sanitized manger.” Ruby calls out behind the group. Ducky yellow rubber gloves adorn both the preteen’s hands, one gripping a bottle of spray cleaner, the other a towel. 

“Aw, Rubes, you didn’t have to do that.” Sam says, appearing out of nowhere. Ruby seems to completely ignore her mother.

“Aunt Lena!” Eyes bright, Lena grins at her. Then something suspicious shifts in her eyes. “You didn’t call Rodney?” She asks.

Lena feels Sam shrink next to her, eyes avoiding the daggers Lena tries to send her. “Samantha Aries.” She mutters disdainfully, foul mood returning in full swing. Sam pretends to see something interesting across the room.      

 

***

 

Lena and her Aunt Rhea watch from the kitchen through the doorway as the mall santa loads his plate up with spears of meat. He keeps jabbing at them, collecting them up the toothpick to his fingers. 

“Isn’t he great?” Rhea asks, leaning into Lena’s shoulder with a sly smile. Lena takes another sip of her drink, humming noncommittally as she watches him move on to the cheese section of the charcuterie boards. “I met him at the mall. You’d be surprised at the quality of men you can meet at the mall.” 

Lena sighs, eyes scanning as the mall santa continues to pile drive the apps. “I don’t think I would actually…”  she trails off thoughtfully. 

“ Relax ,” Her aunt chides her, rolling her eyes and slumping a little harder against the refrigerator like a woman far younger. “It’s not like I’m gonna marry him! He’s just my holidate.” 

Lena’s mind catches on the word, jostling her out of her shock at how her aunt’s date had started making good use of the pockets of Santa's robes to store away some mini cocktail pickles. Did he steal that from his job? “A ‘holidate’ ?” She asks, trying it out. “What’s that?” 

The older woman turns to her, a look of mild surprise on her face like she should know this already. It makes Lena feel old. “You know, a date solely for the holiday.” She explains. “No commitment.” That sort of just seems like a regular date to Lena. Suddenly, a spark lights up Rhea’s eyes. “Want me to see if he has a friend?” Before Lena can beg her not to, Rhea’s off the fridge and headed towards her temporary companion. 

Watching her go with mild disappointment, Lena takes another small sip of her drink. It had sort of been nice talking to her aunt and catching up. Lilian never approaches them when they’re talking. She can remember having a lot of long discussions with her aunt before the last couple of years. Rhea’s always been so free spirited in a way that Lena definitely wouldn’t be, but admires nonetheless.  

Holidays used to be fun . Well, not totally fun, since growing up with this group had its challenges, but she had made small victories here and there. Rhea has kept Lilian on her toes for as long as Lena could remember, always annoying her with her refusal to adhere to Luthor standards of behavior by showing up in outlandish outfits with outlandish dates. Letting Lena live out her rebellions vicariously through her when she wasn’t in a place to speak out against her adoptive family without serious consequences. 

More so, meeting Sam in boarding school and maintaining their friendship through early adulthood had led to her attendance at many Luthor family Christmas parties and galas. Which had made Lena finally feel like she had someone on her side after years of feeling out of place and alone. Someone who understood what it was like to have your mother always hold the guilt of your adoption over your head in an unspoken way. In that, I raised you so you owe me , kind of way. Lex was a great big brother, but he was the golden child, and never fully understood what it was like for her. 

Slowly, the rest of her life caught up too, making the time between holidays just as fulfilling. She had moved into her own apartment, one that her mother couldn’t just show up at. Being able to land a decent job without her family’s connections after graduation while also not making waves by joining a competitor’s firm had set her up well to maintain her boundaries professionally. She had a small surviving group of friends. None of them live in Chicago anymore besides Sam. But they travel back enough for business or family events that grabbing a drink with them on occasion wasn’t impossible, which suited Lena just fine. Things had finally settled into some kind of unspoken groove, where Lena could tolerate being around her family while also finally curating enough of her own personal life to escape to when it all became too much. The only thing she could never seem to get right is dating. The entire endeavor has haunted her. She’s tried every app. Focused on dating women, then men, then women again. Tried having her friends set her up, then when that never worked, tried dating people who she didn’t consider her type. No dice. Nothing seemed to last longer than a few months. Eventually someone would lose interest, or make the move out of Chicago, or cheat. It was hard not to think about that part of her life as some kind of failure. She thought this last time might have been it… but clearly she’d been mistaken. Again.

But it was alright, she figured. She was used to dating not really working. Did she still feel like a failure about it? Sort of. Did the thought of Andrea make her sick to her stomach? Most of the time. But she always had so many other things to focus on to distract her. Now though, Sam’s nowhere to be seen, and has been flighty like she’s hiding something. Everyone’s trying to set her up with someone. Lex and her can’t have a discussion about work or how the business is going without it tiptoeing around a huge blowout fight about Lionel’s secret and what it meant for the ethical practices of L-Corp. Lena just feels… judged. Again. Alone, again. It has her wondering what the new year could possibly bring.     

 

*

*

*

 

Kara looks up to see the house her date has pulled up to. It’s a white house, two cars out front. Despite it being Christmas Eve, there’s mostly white and blue lights bathing the front side in alternating patterns. It makes Kara a bit sad. It makes Kara a bit sad for a specific reason. That specific reason is that it looks a bit like the ocean.  

Back home in the Southern hemisphere, kids would already be out enjoying summer holiday. Around this time growing up with her adoptive family, Kara would be surfing with Alex all morning, slathered with sunblock but getting burned anyway, making up rules for their own competition. Only after exhausting themselves would they load the boards up in Alex’s truck and come home later to smuggle stubbies out of the cooler on the back porch in secret. Cracking them open and sharing them behind the large flowering Honeysuckle and Christmas bush that would undoubtedly be blooming in Eliza’s garden. Jeremiah would be finding new things to burn on the barbie on the back porch, pretending not to see them, even when they were both far past legal drinking age. He was a man who understood that sometimes sneaking a beer for fun just makes it taste better. Eventually the rest of the Danver’s family would be there, talking and laughing until carols by candlelight started after sunset. Christmas in America is just so… different from Australia. Fun in its own way, but not the same. Even after all her time in the states. Kara observes it all from the passenger seat before finally hopping out.  

“It’s freezing this year.” She comments, looking over the roof of the car to the woman she’s been seeing recently. Their breath fogs up the air in front of their mouths, biting. 

“Have you ever been to Evenston?” Her date, Imra, asks as they walk up the long drive. She’s been very energetic tonight. It’s sort of setting Kara on edge.

“Well, Chicago’s only ‘bout thirty minutes from here? Yeah? Recon I’ve popped in once or twice.” Kara comments absently, eyes still drawn to the swirling blue lights projecting spinning snowflakes on the siding. She can almost feel the sun on her face, smell saltwater, but in an instant it's gone.   

Imra must mistake her lack of interest in her question for jitters. “Don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” She assures. Kara blinks at her, not really sure what to say. “And they’re gonna love that accent!” She squeaks. “They’ve never met an Aussie.” That hadn’t really been Kara’s primary concern. But it sort of is now. That weird on edge feeling is back as she looks at the slightly shorter woman. 

“You’ve told them I’m nonbinary, right? And your parents know this is only like our third date?” Kara hedges with a small laugh. The focus on parental approval makes her squirm. She honestly wouldn’t have even agreed to come to something like this tonight if Winn’s flight hadn’t gotten canceled. That had been a bit of a bummer. Although he is Jewish, so it's more important that he makes it back for Hanukkah and not Christmas. But it would have been nice to have someone from home round for holiday. Meeting Imra’s parents instead of catching up with her friend wasn’t a possibility Kara had even thought about. In fact, she had sort of been getting the feeling that it was time to back things off a bit with her. They’d been on a few dates, and it had gone well enough, but she didn’t want to give her the impression that it would turn serious anytime soon. But Imra had offered it up casually enough in passing, and the idea of spending the holiday alone in her apartment hadn’t sounded good for her mental health right now.      

Her date sighs, waving a hand in dismissal like Kara’s questions are silly. It calms her a bit.

“Oh my god, I told you it’s not gonna be a big deal. I don’t think they even know you’re coming. And yeah, I must have mentioned the nonbinary thing somewhere in there.” That last part definitely sounded like cod, but before Kara can respond, Imra is up the front stairs and already greeting her parents as the door swings wide open. “Hiiiiiiiii! Merry Christmas!”

An older woman, who Kara assumes is her mother, turns to her. She’s standing beside an older man who Kara assumes is her husband, both wearing big smiles to match. They also appear to be wearing a pair of god awful Christmas sweaters. They’re neon green, with a gaudy sequined fireplace on the front. They’re kind you wear ironically and buy in a family pack because they’re so awful that you take your family photos in them. Kara can appreciate that. But its giving the distinct impression that these people aren’t wearing them like that though. 

“Oh! And you must be Kara .” The woman crows, looking proudly from Imra to Kara. “You’re even more handsome than in the pictures!” 

Kara swallows hard. “Pictures?” Her palms begin to sweat.

 

***

 

If you had told Kara that not even ten minutes in, she’d be sandwiched between two random strangers on a couch that's definitely only made for two people, a photo album open in her lap, sipping a mocktail with way too much rosemary sprig, she wouldn’t have believed you. Imra’s mother points to another photo, reaching into Kara’s personal space to do so. Kara’s not sure how either of these people are wearing these unbearably itchy sweaters, or how the hell they managed to get her into one. The walk from the door to the living room was all a blur, honestly. Kara can’t be sure she isn't in a nightmare right now. The pages of the photo album crinkle when handled. 

“And here’s her first time on Santa’s lap!” The woman coos. “She peed right through to Santa’s leg!” On Kara’s other side, Imra’s father laughs like it’s funny . Kara’s positive this is a dream. She’s fallen down her apartment’s staircase and is bleeding out at the bottom as her brain plays this absolute nightmare scenario. “First ballet recital,” The woman goes on, unaware of Kara’s internal suffering of unbearable discomfort.  “And, oh! This is the day she got her first period.” Kara peeks down out of morbid curiosity to see a faded photo of an absolutely miserable looking kid, who she assumes is a younger Imra.  

“.. .Charming. ” Is all Kara can really say.  

It doesn't end there, though. Her luck isn’t that good. 

Imra’s mother then insists on a tour of the house. Showing her around until they reach her date's childhood bedroom. The first thing Kara notices? The wall of trophies. The second thing? The dolls. 

“And this one was for little miss Evenston,” Imra’s mother finishes, putting back a big pageant crown that she had taken off the shelf to show Kara the jewels on. Kara nods, a polite smile cracking her face for the last twenty minutes as she avoids having to say anything out loud. There’s something almost insane in the woman’s eyes when she puts the crown back. A singular focus as she reaches forward to wipe off a definitely not there smudge on one of the trophies. Kara is thoroughly horrified at this point, social battery depleted, sensory issues rearing their head at how itchy and hot it is under this Grinch colored sweater, blue eyes darting around for an escape hatch somewhere, anywhere, to get her out of this house. Mind racing through different excuses. Faking a stomach bug, or a headache, or a family death. With her luck she’d just blackout and wake up chained to the radiator in their basement.

“You should know,” Her date’s mother starts out low, a now serious tone coloring her words. That gets Kara’s attention immediately, eyes snapping back. “Imra’s father and I are perfectly comfortable with you two sleeping together in here.” 

What the hell had Imra told her parents? They’ve been on two dates! Kara takes a panicked glance around the time capsule of a room that clearly hasn’t changed since Imra was a child. Carefully maintained with no plans of renovation into a guest bedroom. Pink walls surround them, riddled with shelves of trophies, teddy bears, and ever watching doll eyes that make Kara’s skin crawl. A microscopic bed with princess sheets. Oi! Only child parents are weird. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine, I won’t be staying over.” Kara rushes out, trying to let her down easy. 

To her horror, the woman just laughs like she’s said something funny. “Nonsense!” She places a hand on Kara’s shoulder, making Kara feel like she’s definitely going to wake up handcuffed to the radiator. “You’re practically family.” With that, Imra’s mother turns and heads back out. Left alone, Kara’s polite house guest persona blows to smithereens. Looking around in bewilderment, she drags her hands down her face at the situation she’s found herself in.

“Where even am I right now?” She whispers to herself. 

 

*

*

*

 

“Lena! Stop being a baby, we can put the leaf in.” Sam whisper shouts down to her. Lena glares up at her from the kids table, slowly raising her glass in a sardonic salute. She’s well aware of why the leaf, (the spare piece of oak which fits into the center of the heirloom table to make it bigger), isn’t already in. Lilian always expects Sam to sit with the kids during dinner. It’s a quiet insult of sorts that happens every holiday. So quiet an insult in fact, that Sam doesn’t know about it. That, or she’s just getting very good at looking like she believes Lilian when every year she ‘forgets’ to ask someone to put it in before dinner. After walking into the dining room and seeing that there was room to leave one person out, Lena had decided to fully stick it to Lilian, new year consequences be damned.    

“No thank you, I prefer the singles table.” She says coldly. The second reason she’d chosen the kids table, besides sticking it to Lilian on Sam’s behalf, was that she is now fully ticked off at Sam as well. Sam gives her a narrow eye look. Lilian must be taking out her frustrations at Lena’s childish behavior on her, since Sam had gotten the seat next to her. There will probably be hell to pay later with Lilian for not joining the other adults at the table to make small talk during the meal, but Lena has had to walk on so many eggshells after too many drinks. By forcing Sam to sit at the table, her friend is not excluded by Lilian’s bullshit. Her friend is also punished via proximity to a quiet raging Lilian Luthor for telling Ruby about Lena’s dating life. Or lack thereof. Thus pissing Lena off.  

There’s also something else going on here. Sam has been acting weird all night. All of the last month, even. Distant. Flaking out on plans, not bothering to reschedule them, getting caught in stupid little lies about where she’s been and what she’s been doing. Maybe even who she’s been seeing. Maybe that’s where this weird insistence on finding Lena someone to date had come from. Perhaps projection? Who even knows what that's about. Lena’s not in the mood to try and find out if Sam’s gonna be withholding about it. Especially if she’s going to be so insistently in Lena’s own business.   

Sam resigns herself to her fate at the adults table with a roll of her eyes before fixing her face into a bright smile for Connor. “Alright kid, let's go check on the presents!” She says with fake cheer. Connor, who’s five, doesn’t pick up on it. He’s just happy he doesn't have to sit still anymore. Sam and Connor take off towards the front room, but not before Sam shoots her a pissed off look. 

Ruby, sat beside her and seeing the whole silent exchange over Connor’s head, turns to Lena. 

“The girls are fightingggg.” She teases.

“Ruby.” Lena gives her a look. 

“Sorry.” The younger says. The sparkle of mischief is back in her eyes. “So, Aunt Lena, why didn’t you call Rodney?” 

“Why didn’t… you call Rodney?” Lena deflects clumsily. Ruby just observes her for a few seconds. Sometimes Ruby looks much wiser than a twelve year old should. Her mother doesn’t give her enough credit. Gives Lena the spooks sometimes.  

“Mom gave you another scrub’s number, didn’t she?” 

Lena balks. “See? Your mother doesn’t give you enough credit.” Ruby laughs at that. “I’m serious, she should have seen this coming.”

“She means well, but I get why you two are having adult fits about it. I wouldn’t like it if my friend Mari tried to set me up with anyone she knew. I bet mom’s taste is worse than her’s.”

“Hey, your dad wasn’t a bad choice.” Lena defends. Ruby’s smile drops immediately. Lena’s mouth goes dry, but before she can apologize or say something else, Ruby moves forward with the conversation like Lena hadn’t said anything. “Mom’s taste in men is pretty bad, but maybe you'll find someone like Marcus all on your own.”

Lena immediately sits up straighter, interest definitely piqued. “Who’s Marcus?” She asks, eyes shrewd. “Who’s defiling my precious niece?” The preteen’s nose scrunches up at that, and she swats at Lena while Lena just laughs.

“My boyfriend.” Ruby casually admits with a smile when Lena stops laughing. It drops for a second into fearful expression. “Don’t tell my mom.” Lena leans back in her plastic fisher price kids chair, impressed. She can’t posture herself very much though, or she’ll fall out of the tiny ass seat. 

“Ohhh, secret boyfriend?” Lena asks, poking her in the side. “I’m very impressed Jr. Arias. I knew you’d be a rebel. What’s he like?” Ruby gives her a nervous look. “I swear I won’t tell your mom.” At this promise, a shy but now relaxed smile lights her face. 

“He’s nice. He shares his fruit snacks with me during second period English. We get to eat in that class. Dresses nice too. He doesn’t even own one of those stupid Champion hoodies all the other guys wear.” Lena hides her smile behind the rim of her cup. “And his hair,” Ruby continues, gazing off somewhere in the middle distance as she ghosts her fingers through her own, “He keeps it really long.”  

Lena nods very solemnly at this pertinent information. “Well, good for you Ruby. You enjoy it while you can.”

“Don’t you want a Marcus? Or, like, a… Macy?” Ruby asks. Lena gives her a patient look. 

“No, not really.” She mutters quietly. “Because one day, you are gonna walk outside and you just might catch Marcus sharing his fruit snacks with a Starbucks barista named ‘Rainbow’.” At that, Ruby makes a face. “Yeah, it's not a good day, Ruby. It hurts. It hardens you.” She knows she’s being a little dramatic here, but she’s resolved herself to lean into the slight humor of her situation. The situation being, drinking at the kids table with a twelve year old who has a better love life than she’s had in probably the last year. She sends it home, adding just the littlest bit of self depreciation to really get her performance across. “And the next thing you know, you're just south of thirty, sitting at the kids table, numbing the pain with a scotch.” 

There's a long silence from Ruby, who looks on with a grimace as Lena finishes her drink. “Uhh, yeah…Maybe mom should stop trying to set you up.”

“That’s all I ask.” Lena sighs, saluting her with the now empty cup in her hand. Connor comes back to the table by himself, taking the seat across from Lena and Ruby. They eat their meal in comfortable silence, the sounds of laughter or flowing conversation coming from the adult table in the other room functioning as background noise. That is, until, Lena hears her brother’s voice loud and clear twenty minutes later. 

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Everyone, I’d like to make an announcement.” Lex calls out. “Lee! Get in here. Bring the kids.” 

Ruby doesn’t need to be brought along. Keen as ever, she’s up and out of her seat before Lena or Connor, some kind of internal teenage meter for drama clearly developing early in her frontal lobe. 

“Come on Connor, let's go see what Daddy has to say.” Lena nods towards the dining room.

“Ok Aunt Lena.” Connor’s quiet little voice answers. So polite, this kid. Neat as a pin. Lena wonders where he gets it from as she walks him into the dining room. Lex stands near the head of the table, manic grin on his face and Eve on his arm. He makes eye contact with Lena, patting his right jacket pocket subtly, and Lena’s stomach lurches. She knows that look. Something big is about to go down. He turns to Eve, who smiles brightly at him.

“I’m so glad you all could make it this year, and I have something I want to say very badly.” Lilian lets out a gasp, a bony hand reaching up to cover her mouth as Lex pulls a small box out of his pocket and drops to one knee in front of Eve.

“Eve Andrea-Brooks Teschmacher,” Lex starts.

“ Fuck. No. ” Lena exhales in shock, watching the scene with wide eyes. Luckily she didn’t say it loud enough for anyone to hear her.

“Aunt Lena, that’s a bad word.” Connor whispers up at her as his little fingers tug on her hand. Oops. Maybe she was a little too loud. Lena always forgets how good this kid’s hearing is.

“Shush baby.” Lena mouths down at him for a second before snapping her eyes back to the scene.  

“I know it’s only been three months and six heavenly days, but I feel like I’ve known you my entire life.” Lena can’t look away, it’s like a car crash. “Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” 

The question doesn’t go unanswered for long. Eve looks beside herself for a few seconds, doing the classic ‘fan away the tears and blink fast’ move.

“Oh my gosh, Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

Lilian jumps up and down in a very undignified way as the room cheers. “One down, one more to go!” She hollers. 

    

*

*

*

 

Kara’s barely had a chance to take off the awful sweater sensory nightmare clinging to her for a second before Imra comes rushing in, shutting the door quietly behind her. She turns to Kara now, a fierce look in her eyes that Kara can now startlingly trace back to her mother. 

“God, my parents love you!” She growls, grabbing Kara’s blue button up in both hands and throwing her onto the tiny bed with an almost animal-like strength. Kara sits up a bit, hands in the air like she’s at gunpoint. Her date hurdles on top of her. So many things so quickly.

“What on earth is wrong with you?!” The blonde whisper screams, eyes darting nervously towards the door. “You told them-” Kara is beside herself at this point, floundering as her date rips off her own sweater and tosses it to the floor. She’s wearing a pretty nice lace bra, so for a minute Kara’s brain shudders before she remembers how upset she is. “Imra, you told your parents we’re a couple?!”

Above her, Imra doesn’t seem phased. “Oh, come on.” She husks from above. “You know you like me.” She emphasizes this by running her hands along the snap buttons on Kara’s top. “You wouldn’t be here on a major holiday if you didn’t like me! ” The last two words are punctuated by her date unceremoniously ripping her shirt open. Kara’s face must be firetruck red at this point. If it wasn’t such a confusingly attractive and familiar position for the two of them, she would have bucked her off by now. 

“I-” Kara tries to protest, but not really making any moves to get out from underneath Imra. The whole thing is kinda hot in a stockholm syndrome kinda way, and she’s fairly certain Imra locked the door when she came in. 

Her date claps twice, and suddenly the lights in the room shut off. In their place a swirling display somewhere clicks on, shining pink and blue ambiance lighting around the ceiling and walls. “Your room is on a clapper?” Kara asks, horror and slight arousal completely arrested by pure confusion. Her date, driven mad by some kind of insane cloud of parental approval inspired lust, trails her mouth lower and lower over Kara’s skin, giving Kara’s trousers a firm tug as she unzips the fly. “My adoptive parents are in Australia!” Lower. “And they’re Jewish!” Lower still. “I didn’t have any other-” Imra’s mouth finally finds a sensitive spot, making Kara’s next words come out in a weak hiss. “Planssss.” 

 

*

*

*

 

After the buzz of the engagement wears down, the presents are opened. Everyone sits around on the staircase that descends from the hallway into the living room, surrounded by a mountain of shredded wrapping paper. Lilian stands, of course. Lilian Luthor does not sit on the floor, ever. Ruby and Connor are off playing with all their toys, since the kids always go first. Eve and Lex now attached at the hip, they both opened their presents one after the other. Lilian had opened her presents with little fanfare and polite thanks to each of her children, always giving Lex a little more warmth than her adopted daughter. Lena’s present to Sam, a new air humidifier for her apartment, lies next to the door so she won’t forget it on the way out. Lena now sits with Sam’s gift on her lap. 

“Hey! Pajamas.” Lena comments when she takes off the lid to the flimsy hard paper boxes that department store clothes are always packaged in around the holidays. They’re a blue plaid pattern. Not her usual style, but not horrible. They at least feel comfortable, seeming to be made of some kind of cotton blend. Digging around in the box, she goes to hold up what she believes is the shirt. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that they’re the wrong size. Not just a size or two off, but… comically large. Lena tries to hide her emotions as Sam looks on expectantly, but as Lena pulls out the pants, it becomes harder to mask her offense. These could honestly be of more use to her as bedsheets.

“Yes!” Sam exclaims, like this isn’t the most far off gift she’s ever gotten Lena. “I thought they were so cute and cozy for, like, a girl’s night in.” Lena laughs at Sam awkwardly, not wanting to give Lilian any reason to scold her. But, really? A girl’s night? She sounds like she’s trying to convince Lena that everything about this is normal. But Lena makes careful note of this in her mind. If she hadn’t already suspected that Sam had been acting weird, she certainly is now. Sam is hiding something, and Lena does not appreciate how it's making her act. 

 

*

*

*

 

Kara has found herself in the middle of the human sandwich from hell once again, counting the seconds until this horrible night is over and done with. Imra had somehow pulled the god awful Christmas sweater back onto her body after they had… done what they’d done in her childhood bedroom. So she finds herself between Imra’s parents again, opening a large box as they watch on eagerly like vultures on cocaine. Kara didn’t think there was any way for them to be sitting closer to her, but the way that just breathing has her rubbing elbows, apparently she was wrong.  

“Heyyy…” She trails off, fighting as hard as she can to keep the smile on her face no matter how awkward. “Pants.” As if to prove it, Kara holds up the pair of khakis. Her date's parents look at her with manic smiles on both sides, nodding in encouragement. Imra straightens up in her chair facing them.

“They’re khakis!” Her date supplies obviously. “Because golfers love khakis, right? I didn’t know the size, so I just got three, but you can exchange them! And I got mens and womens, just in case.”

“Pants… and a project. Thanks!” Kara is definitely ending it with this woman after this. After all the hell this night has been, even though she’d made it absolutely clear that she wasn’t looking for anything serious, Imra had completely trapped her here. Not to mention she clearly lied about the situation to her parents, who seem like decent people, if a bit… eccentric . And seriously? Mens and womens pants? Imra knows she only wears men’s clothes at work. There’s a moment where a silence settles into the room that Kara assumes signals the end of presents being opened, so Kara starts folding the tissue paper back into the box to pack it up. Until she looks up and sees her date, hands out, eyes closed. Chancing a glance at the man and woman beside her and seeing expectant looks, a new confusion takes over her brain.

“I’m sorry, I- I didn’t realize we were doing the whole present thing.” 

Imra’s smile drops. “Why would you think that?” 

Kara gives her a puzzled look, scoffing a bit in disbelief before catching herself.

“Because you said we weren’t doing the whole present thing?!” She gives Imra a bewildered look. 

“Oh. I see.” Imra’s hands retreat back into her lap, a hardness overtaking her eyes to match the suddenly icy tone of her voice. Kara’s stomach sours, hair standing on end as she subconsciously shrinks back in fear. Nothing could ever have prepared her for the next sentence coming out of Imra’s mouth.

“So you know me well enough to cum in my mouth , but you don’t know me well enough to get me a Christmas present?” 

Kara’s jaw drops open, floor yanked out from underneath her. Quick looks to the left and right show Imra’s parents both in complete shock. Kara stammers, unable to regain fine motor skills over her tongue. Her brain searches for something, anything , to make the situation more bearable, before finally sparking an idea like a wet match.

“I could give you some cash?” The question comes stumbling out of her mouth, frantic. Desperately reaching for the wallet in her back pocket, a shift in position that presses her entire right thigh into her date’s father temporarily, who looks like he’s about to kill her. “I’ve got, what, what have I got left,” She thumbs the bills. “Forty bucks?” She asks desperately, taking the money out of the wallet and holding it out to Imra. To her utter horror, this seems to make her date even more infuriated. 

“ Forty bucks? ” She asks, sounding like she’d lost her breath halfway through her question. “What am I, a prostitute?” 

“Wha- No! God no,” Kara nearly shouts, eyes again looking at both of her date’s parents, who look over at her in a mix of anger and disapproval. “Absolutely no- What the fuck? ” Kara mouths to her date, outraged at being so thoroughly raked over the coals.

Imra’s wounded dove act falls. She sticks her tongue into her cheek thoughtfully before playing hardball. “I’ll take eighty.” She states. This cannot be happening. Kara just stares at her, mouth agape, before fully shutting this thing down. 

“I’m not giving you eighty dollars.” She states, shoving the bills back in her wallet and going to stand from the couch. It takes a few tries, given how jammed in she is next to two random strangers who not only know way more about her sex life than they ever should have, but who also probably think she’s been a complete dunghead to their beloved daughter. Imra scowls, playing an act of offense that Kara now knows is clearly just a show to make her look bad in front of her parents. As if introducing her to them tonight was supposed to suddenly convince her that Imra was the love of her life after two dates, and she’s being brutally punished for not picking that up sooner. At this point, Imra goes full meltdown.

“We had sex, Kara! Twice! I can’t believe you didn’t get me a Christmas present! ” 

“I can’t believe that you’d ambush me like this in front of your parents!” Kara fires back. “Actually, you know what? I can. ‘Cause chicks like you go mental on the holidays.” Turning quickly on her heel to Imra’s mortified parents, Kara waves. “Lovely evening, guys. Beautiful dinner. Have a merry Christmas. Cheers.” With hopefully a single shred of her dignity left, Kara rips off the god awful sweater, tosses it at Imra’s face, and leaves the house before she can be thrown out.  

It’s only when she’s gotten at least a block or two away that she thinks to block Imra’s number. Her fingers don’t work well in the cold, fumbling as she stomps down the street to call an Uber. How could this night have gotten so far away from her? She shouldn’t have even come. All the people she’s tried to date this last month have gone completely insane on her. Albet, not generally as insane as this one. The closer to a holiday, the more intense things seem to get. Like clockwork.  

To be honest, Kara’s life hadn’t been that bad for the last year, and she’d jumped in with both feet after coming out socially as nonbinary. Her pro golf career had been picking up since her permanent relocation, given that Chicago has over 200 golf clubs. She was even getting a few new sponsors interested. For the few tournaments she goes to in the year, her scores on the leaderboard were finally high enough that her winnings covered the airfare, lodging, tournament entry, and meals. Plus, it wasn’t bad for business, getting her name out there in those circles. Her passion was never to become the next Tiger Woods. Her career as a golf coach was much more important to her, and she’d been more than happy to spend the last four years developing it. Therefore, her work life balance had led to more time for dating. 

But Kara wasn’t ready for anything serious. It just didn’t seem like the right time for her, or the right place. It was fun finally being out. Freeing. She’d been enjoying it, taking time to get to know the feeling of dating and having those dates acknowledge her gender identity. The Chicago dating pool is a bit like New York or Sydney. Lots of progressive people in her age group who weren’t really looking to settle down here. She had thought she’d found someone who might have…But she had been wrong. So, any time anyone else got close, Kara just… couldn’t. Not since Mike.   

Dating casually was so much simpler. So much easier. No intense feelings and risks. She just wished the holidays weren’t such an unbearable time to try and find a date. With a huff, she dials Alex’s number to wish her happy holidays as she waits for the Uber.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Bring on the characters!

“What’s the hold up?”

“This is ridiculous!” 

Varying types of the same sentiment get thrown towards the person at the checkout counter, and Lena is almost tempted to join in the chorus. The mall is extra crowded in the days between Christmas and new years. Today especially, even though it’s incredibly early. People of all ages run around, trying to return Christmas gifts that broke or didn’t fit, taking advantage of the after Christmas price slashes, and maybe getting a few things ready for the new year. Lena usually tries to avoid the holiday crowds, but she hadn’t had anything better to do than try and return the pajamas that Sam got her. 

It’s a store she’s never even heard of, some clothing brand that happened to get mildly successful enough in the last few years to start putting out seasonal lines. The lights are harsh white, infuriating her cold weather induced headache. Her feet are absolutely killing her. The line for returns is a mile long. She’d finally made it to the second place in line, but some blonde jackass in front of her is at the counter, politely arguing about their return. She hadn’t given the surroundings patrons much thought, but she’s been waiting long enough now that she’s had time to fully commit the back of this person to memory. They’re a tall, blonde, broad shouldered, leather jacket and jeans wearing hindrance to the continuation of her day. 

“Come on, dude!” Someone calls out from behind Lena. Lena shuffles impatiently closer to the counter, catching what they’re saying. It sounds like a woman’s voice, which is a bit of a surprise given how sturdy they look. 

“I’ve been in line for over half an hour. Please?” They say… in an Australian accent? 

The woman at the counter gives them their best customer service voice. “I’m sorry, but without a gift receipt I can only offer you store credit.”

“I don’t want store credit,” They reply tensely, “I want to never have to return to this store.” Before muttering under their breath something that Lena almost doesn’t catch, something like, “Damn it, Imra.” Whatever that may mean.  

It makes her want to roll her eyes. She’s never even been to this store and even she knows returns always have some kind of rule like that. Apparently that’s not an acceptable answer for this person. She’s finally had enough of it.

“Excuse me,” she addresses the back of the person’s head, “Crocodile Dundee, some of us have jobs.” The person turns in surprise. The stranger’s face takes a second for Lena to process. It’s in a slightly puzzled frown, eyebrows drawn slightly together in a way that forms a crinkle between them. Beneath them and framed by black rimmed glasses sit startlingly blue eyes that seem more dark sea than clear sky, tracing Lena’s face in turn. Soft looking hair that shines is pulled back in a ponytail with little fanfare. Their leather jacket makes a swish sound against their white t-shirt. Whoever it is, they’re gorgeous. Doesn’t make them any less of an inconvenience to Lena, though. Which can significantly dull the effects of a handsome face.

“Oh gosh. Dundee. That’s original.” They stammer out, looking a little hurt and going pink in the ears. The accent is definitely Aussie. They go to turn back around, until they seem to think of something. “Hang on, what makes you think I don’t have a job?” 

Lena raises an eyebrow. “You’re at the mall. On a Wednesday. Returning slacker pants.” The person’s expression changes to pure confusion.  

“Lots of employed people wear khakis. They’re like, the most employable pants?” The accent of this person apparently gets thicker when they’re confused. It would be cute…endearing even… if Lena wasn’t already annoyed. Instead of mocking the accent like the meaner part of her brain wants to do, she sidesteps the person, placing the box of oversized pajamas on the counter next to the stranger’s opened box of khaki pants.

“Hey!” They protest petulantly. Lena ignores them. 

“Hi there.” She greets the check out employee. “I just have a quick return.”       

“Receipt?” The woman asks brightly, giving the other customer a side glance. Lena sighs.

“They didn’t come with a receipt, just the assumption that I’ll be alone forever, gorging myself into the size of a Lumberjack.” For emphasis, Lena draws the waistline of the pants tight between two fingers, showing their impressive size, before letting them fall back into the box. 

Suddenly, from her left, the stranger pipes up. “Looks like whoever got you the gift nailed it.” All said in that stupid, smug accent, finished off with an infuriating chuckle, like it’s supposed to be funny. Lena turns on the blonde with a scowl.

“Look,” She starts, channeling as much ice as she can in her voice, “My Christmas already sucked , so go ‘nail it’ somewhere else.” The blonde stares at her in more surprise, like they keep forgetting that Lena is right there , and can indeed hear them . The store clerk in front of them sounds horribly uncomfortable, clearly not paid enough to deal with this. She makes an excuse and grabs up Lena’s pajamas, saying something about going to check on them. But Lena has a hard time hearing her, given that her and the stranger’s eyes haven’t left each other’s once since they locked. They really are wonderfully blue. They remind Lena of a nail polish she liked to wear as a kid.  

A wisp of blonde hair has escaped the stranger’s ponytail, now falling down the side of their face, and Lena has the sudden private desire to blow on it and see it dance around. 

“I’ll give you forty bucks for those khakis, and a Fresh Pretzel two for one coupon.” Says a stranger behind them. Lena and the stranger both turn to stare at a woman in the line directly behind them. She looks friendly, a little young. Lena turns to look at the blonde annoyance next to her, who’s little crinkle of confusion appears between their eyebrows again. 

“This is like, eighty dollars worth of pants. Can’t remember the last time someone burned me on four lobsters. No deal.” With that confusing bit of language, Lena and the stranger turn back around. 

“Lobsters?” Lena questions, unable to help herself. Luthor curiosity.  

“What?” The stranger asks, looking over at her before recognition dawns. “Lobsters. That’s what we call our twenty note bills. They’re red.” They explain. It makes her scoff. Lena didn’t know this stranger could annoy her further. Guess she was wrong. Turning her eyes forward, she makes up her mind to disengage with them until the sales clerk comes back, but out of the corner of her eye she sees them shift from one foot to the other, then reach up awkwardly to run a hand through their hair, then open and close their mouth like they want to say something. The impulse loses out. 

“Hey,” They start out. Maybe it’s the accent. Maybe it’s the blue eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that the woman helping them hasn’t come back yet and Lena really has nothing better to do than talk to this person. Whatever it is, something about the openness of their tone makes Lena relax instead of tense up. “If it’s any consolation, I spent my holiday in an ugly Christmas sweater, sipping mocktails with a room full of people who I’m pretty sure were in a cult.” 

Lena wants to laugh a little at that. It’s funny. Witty. She doesn’t. But what does happen is that she’s not able to stop herself from suddenly being curious again. And when a Luthor is curious, things get interesting.

“I see your ugly Christmas sweater, and raise you a seat at the kid’s table, my brother getting engaged to his girlfriend of three months, and catching my aunt getting her cookie licked by a mall Santa.” To her delight, the words completely throw the blonde off.            

“That’s a… festive visual.” Lena’s just itching to respond to that, enjoying making the stranger squirm a bit after the circumstance of their meeting, but the sales clerk approaches the counter again with Lena’s box. Lena’s barely there smile fades at the look of apology on the woman’s face. 

“Sorry, but these are actually from two seasons ago. But I can offer you a store credit for the current sales price of…” The woman trails off, typing something into the cashier computer, “Four ninety nine!”

Beside her, the blonde stranger looks at her encouragingly, giving her two thumbs up and mouthing the words four ninety nine! Like it’s great news. Lena turns to them almost automatically. “My best friend in the entire world has become so cheap in the last year. I mean, not even five dollars? Something three seasons ago?”

“Blimey! Sounds right harsh.” The stranger nods along. 

“It might be cute if you cut the legs off.” Says the girl in line behind them. Lena and the stranger turn around in sync to look at the girl. Lena doesn’t know why, but for some reason it feels like her conversation just got interrupted. “You know, like capri pants.”

Lena and the stranger share a look. It shouldn’t make sense that Lena gleans exactly what they’re thinking, since they just met and Lena doesn’t even know this person’s name, but one dart of those blue eyes to the box in her hands and she just… knows what’s about to go down. The blonde reaches out, snatches Lena’s PJs out of the box and piles it on top of the mess of khaki pants in their arms.

“Fifty bucks for everything.” They challenge the girl. Now a united front, Lena turns her eyes to the other young woman. 

“Forty.” The girl returns.

“Forty five.” Lena rebounds, before looking down at the coupon in the younger woman's hand. “And the pretzel two for one.”

 

***

 

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” Lena asks, offering her fresh pretzel to the blonde walking amicably beside her away from the pretzel cart. 

A hand is raised in front of it in denial. “Nah. I don’t eat that kinda stuff.” Lena shrugs in understanding. It’s junky mall food, a far cry from a kale salad that she would usually pick from her favorite vegan cafe on the upper floor. But it’s a symbol of the victory of a good negotiation nonetheless, so Lena’s at least taking a bite. 

“You don’t eat salty, carb-y dough? That must make the holidays tough.” Lena comments doubtfully. Every culture has a salty, carb-y dough to eat during winter. 

The stranger waves her off, cheeks dusting a bit pink as they reach up to adjust their glasses. A fidget that Lena’s observed them doing a fair bit since they both left the store together to find the pretzel stand. “Christmas peaked for me at about twelve. I got a better surfboard to keep up with Alex, and my first real set of golf clubs.” They seem lost in the memory, hands shoved in their leather jacket pockets as they rock back on their heels. Lena takes another bite of the pretzel. It’s dry. She’s not sure why she wants to share a childhood memory with this person, but she does.

“My best Christmas,” Lena starts off, thinking way back in her memory to a time before the Luthors adopted her, “I was about six.” If the stranger thinks anything of Lena’s best Christmas being when she was so young, they hide it well. “I got a children’s chemistry set and a brand new teddy bear.”

“A teddy bear?” They ask.

Lena nods. A teddy bear. 

“So, do you still have that teddy bear?” 

“Of course not. My father gave it to his pet mastiffs when he figured I was too old for those kinds of things.” Lena sighed. The stranger looks stricken at that, but doesn’t say anything. Lena’s grateful.  

“Hey! Lena!” Someone shouts from across the crowded mall floor. Lena tenses up, eyes alert as she scans the crowd. It’s not usually a good thing when someone recognizes her in public. From frequent run-ins with paparazzi, to random strangers interjecting their opinions on Lionel’s lawsuit to her, a public call out isn't ever a good thing. But when her eyes land on the source, it’s much to her horror that it’s not paparazzi or an opinionated stranger.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Lena feels mortified, doubling back to hide behind the blonde… stranger? It almost feels weird that they haven’t exchanged names yet. Whoever they are, they’re so tall and broad that Lena instinctively ducks behind them to hide from the mall Santa that knows her name.

The blonde khaki obsessed pretzel denier doesn’t follow Lena’s lead at all, turning and looking right at the mall Santa like an oblivious friend who whips around to look when you say something like ‘don’t look now, but’ . “Is that an ex-boyfriend of yours or something?” It’s said with a laugh.

“No! Lena hisses. “That’s the guy my aunt brought home for Christmas!”

“The one you caught… in the holiday spirit?” The stranger asks, turning to look at her with a big amused grin. Lena notes that they have very nice teeth. 

“Tell your aunt Rhea to call me!” The mall Santa shouts at her before going back to his job, picking up display presents and disassembling the kids photo booth.    

Lena lets out a muffled scream, deciding to book it as casually as possible. “He was her holidate.” Lena explains with a huff as she puts on a burst of speed. They walk quickly side by side through the flow of traffic until they get far enough away that it thins out to a less crowded area where the mall works with the local dealers to display the cars on the floor. The creamy white linoleum tiles bounce light off the mirror polished sides of the simple Nissan models. Lena has always wondered how they get the cars into the building. Do they just drive them in?  

“Wait, what’s a holidate?” The stranger asks, bringing them up short next to a nice gray car. 

“Just,” Lena waves her hand around dismissively, “Some guy she picked up at the mall to spend the holidays with.” At this, the stranger looks intrigued.

“Wait, wait. Just Christmas? Or like, all holidays?” They ask. Lena blinks, not sure why this is so interesting. She takes a minute to think of all the random nobody's her aunt has brought home over the years.

“Easter, New years, she’s kind of an equal opportunity holi-dater.” Something seems to dawn on the blonde, and something about it irks Lena in turn.

“That's what I need for New years!” They reason out loud. 

“Well, you can try, but this late in the game he’s probably booked.” Lena jokes, nodding her head in the direction of the side of the mall they’d just escaped from.

“No, seriously.” The blonde states. “I am done casually dating on the holidays. There’s way too much pressure. It’s ridiculous! I always end up being the jerk at the end of the day anyway.” Lena scoffs, not finding herself able to relate to this stranger’s particularly shallow sounding struggle.    

“Oh yeah? Try being the only single one in your family after introducing your now ex-girlfriend to them all last thanksgiving like an idiot before getting cheated on. Every time I walk into a room I’m showered in a shitstorm of pity. I mean, why is everyone so disbelieving of a single and happy woman?” To emphasize, Lena gestures to herself.  

At this clear statement however, the blonde quirks their head to the side like a golden retriever trying to hear better. “Because you’re obviously not happy.” Lena’s mouth falls open a bit in offense, a familiar annoyance for this person returning in full force. She feels like they’re back in line again. 

“Nope! Wrong. See? I am.” She says sharply, pointing at her forced grin. “Happy.” The blonde’s mouth thins into a line.  

“No, you aren’t.” Lena’s forced smile drops into a frown. It’s really above her to argue with some rando that wouldn’t even share a pretzel with her. “Humans aren’t meant to be alone on the holidays.” The stranger continues. “We need warmth, companionship, someone to drunk mock strangers with at parties…” 

Lena hums noncommittal, shifting to her left foot and back. She really needs to remember to buy a new pair of shoes before she leaves this place. “I do love drunk mocking strangers at parties.” She admits, mostly to herself. That had been the only activity that her and Sam had in their back pockets to make endless years of boring fundraisers and galas tolerable. In fact, she had engaged in a bit of that with her aunt this year, since Sam seems too busy lying to her face to put in the effort of their own sacred traditions.    

“Well then this is perfect! We can be each other's holidate for new years eve.” The blonde suggests excitedly, blue eyes almost sparkling. 

This halts Lena in her tracks. “I don’t even know you?” Lena questions. The stranger, it seems, is ready for that argument. 

“That’s what makes this so perfect though. There’s no pressure, no expectations.” Lena just raises an eyebrow, fixing on her most unimpressed look. “I mean…” They trail off, floundering a bit with their hands. “I-I don’t even think I find you that attractive.” They stammer out. 

At this insightful bit of information, Lena’s mouth drops fully open in offense this time. “Wow! Calm down with the flattery.” She bites out. “The last person that talked to me like that got their ass fired.” Who the hell is this person anyway? What kind of idiot says that to someone they literally just asked out? Most of all, why is Lena still having this conversation?   

“Not that you aren’t attractive!” The stranger quickly corrects. “It’s just that maybe… you’re not attractive… to… me?” 

Even Lena has to wince at that. “Yeah. Goodbye.” She deadpans as she turns away, now intent on setting off to finish up her shopping before getting home. This has gone on long enough anyway. She has a zoom meeting with her boss later, and Jess doesn’t like it when she’s late. Every single generous thought that Lena may or may not have had about her potential attraction to this person burns up upon re-entry, leaving her with more than a bit of stinging embarrassment. She had allowed herself to think about their blue eyes too much. Considered the size of their hands for too long. Perhaps been too forthcoming with the word ‘gorgeous’ in the privacy of her own mind. All that to be told to her face that this person doesn’t find her attractive in the least. There’s movement from behind her, a flash of leather and blonde hair.

“Okay, hey, wait a second!” The stranger calls out in that stupid accent, jogging casually to the front to block her. Despite her better judgment, Lena stops walking away, patience severely thin. “You just said yourself, you’re sick of all the sad glances and looking pathetic.” They rush to explain. Then they flash her a smile with those very nice looking teeth, and Lena admonishes herself for the thought.

“I said pity , not pathetic .” Lena spits out through her own gritted ones. 

“Look, I’ve got tickets to the Skyfall party.” They rock back on their heels, stick their hands in their pockets, then reach up to fidget with their glasses again, then shove their hands back into their pockets… like they can’t decide what to do with themselves. Nervous maybe? That, or just plain crazy. It is the mall, after all. Either way, what a spaz, Lena thinks. But then their statement actually registers.   

“Wait, really? ” Lena asks, getting that Luthor curiosity back in an instant.  

The Skyfall party has been one of Chicago’s most infamous parties for the last five years or so. Sure, Chicago has lots of New Years Eve parties. All over the city different bars and venues reign in the new year with gusto, but Skyfall is by far the biggest, and most fun one, in Lena’s opinion. It’s got a floating venue, being held at a different place every year, and as a result, it’s exact location is kept a bit of a surprise until the start of December. But the team behind it always executes the event well. Lena should know, having been to enough galas and auctions throughout her teens to know the difference. Skyfall is elegant, always color themed gold, black and silver. A live jazz band and orchestral quartet plays Auld Lang Syne when the clock strikes midnight. TV live streams get set up between the New York location and the Chicago one so footage from both parties go on the @SkyfallNYE instagram in real time. Local businesses get shout outs, and last year they did an excellent fundraiser for their last venue, which happened to be the Chicago zoo.  

The attendance is usually people in her age range, drawing a younger crowd of both Chicago locals and out of town tourists. Some local bars that Lena hadn’t gotten around to visiting even hopped on the wagon with the marketing team this year, filling out all the vendor spots quite nicely. With such rising notoriety and popularity, Lena hadn’t thought it was going to be so hard to get tickets this year, until they revealed the venue choice. A grand, long retired opera house that’s been used as a high class event venue in Chicago for about the last century or so, recently remodeled to include a partial rooftop bar. A rooftop bar that you just so happen to be able to see the new years eve fireworks go off from. This venue had a pretty limited occupancy, leading to the tickets this year being not only a bit pricey, but hard to come by since they sold out almost as soon as the tickets went live.     

Lena knows one thing; she would kill to get into the Skyfall party this New Years Eve. The stranger must be confusing the incredibly intense look Lena’s giving them for one of someone who’s unconvinced, because they extend a hand.

“I’m Kara, by the way.” They say. Lena thinks on the name for a second, studying Kara’s face. It fits blonde and blue eyes well. A name that means beloved in Italian. Cara mia.

“You’re just taking a guess on the fact that I may or may not date women, Kara?” Lena asks, taking the offered hand. It’s very warm, and a bit sweaty. It’s also calloused. Long, warm, calloused fingers wrap around her’s. Warm hands, warm name. Cara mia .     

“Well, you did say it was your ex- girlfriend that you introduced to your family. But I suppose it’s worth mentioning that I’m non-binary, not quite a woman. So if that’s not really your vibe, we might as well chuck it out with the bin.” Kara corrects. Lena takes that in for a beat before nodding. Lena’s been dead set on it being slightly funny sounding since she heard it, but there’s something nice about the way Kara says the statement in an Aussie accent. Non- binary . Like the word ‘winery’ but with a warm sounding B at the front. A popped clutch before rocketing off the rest of the word. Kara is non binary . Lena’s realizing now in real time that she’s never dated anyone non-binary before. The opportunity hadn’t ever really presented itself.  

“Right. Got it.” She feels the words fall out of her mouth with half awareness, continuing to look at Kara quizzically. She shakes her head a bit to clear it. “It makes sense. If that’s not weird to say. I’m Lena.” 

At the mention of her name, Kara’s face gets a far off look, a grin and blush combo slowly stretching across it like a sunset turning clouds pink. “Lena.” Kara tries it out. Kara says the end of her name with an r sound instead of an ‘ahh’. It’s something linguistics call an intrusive r. Like how the word ‘no’ ends up sounding like ‘naur’ and ‘saw’ turns into ‘sawr’.  

“Did you know your name means light?” Kara asks suddenly.

“In what language?” She asks. It’s a bit of a test. Lena already knows it means ‘light’ or ‘shining’ in several languages. 

Kara bites her lip to try and stop grinning. “Just about a dozen of them, I suppose.” Lena’s not sure if she’s disappointed or impressed that Kara passed. “What are your pronouns?”  

“She, her, hers.” Lena supplies quickly. Second nature after all her new company’s sensitivity training. 

“Right on. Same here.” Kara nods along. “So, with that bit out of the way, was that a yes I heard somewhere in there?” She says in fake seriousness, cupping a hand to her ear as if to hear Lena better. “Because I’m bloody sure I heard something about, ‘Yes Kara I would love to go to that awesome party with you’ in there somewhere.” 

Lena again wants to laugh at the wit. She doesn’t. “I don’t think I said that at all, actually.” Even though, in all honesty, it’s incredibly tempting. Despite this, however, Lena isn’t about to be convinced to go out with someone who by their own admission, doesn’t think they find her that attractive . She’s not that desperate.  

“Oh, come on then, say yes!” Kara laughs. “I just wanna go, relax, have a few drinks, and not worry about my date going absolutely insane on me if I don’t drop a knee at midnight. Bloody oath.” Finishing off the statement by raising her right hand and placing the other on her heart like she’s being sworn in.  

Lena cuts her eyes at the blonde. “How do you know I’m not insane?” She questions. Kara offers an easy shrug, lowering her hands. 

“You had me at, ‘ and the fresh pretzel two for one ’, back there. Seems pretty clear headed to me.” She says with a smile. Lena raises another eyebrow, reminding herself not to get too caught up in Kara’s weirdly easygoing while also slightly dorky swagger. Because it kills her to admit, but this Kara person is supposed to be exactly her type. Witty, tall, handsome, but human enough to blush. Human enough to know what her name means in different languages. These things would be charming on anyone else. Add on an invite to the party she’s been wanting to go to for months? Should be a done deal. But then she’d gone and opened her mouth and flat out told Lena that the invitation was a pity date. Extended just so this person doesn’t have to go to the Skyfall party alone. All these reasons, plus the fact that Lena was supposed to be done with these kinds of situations. Dating and knowing it won’t go anywhere.   

Kara makes to fish something out of her pocket, eventually drawing out a business card. “It’s nice to meet you, Lena. Here are my details.” Lena takes the card. It’s one of those simple ones, with a name, title, and contact information on it. Red writing on a blue heavy paper, bordered with yellow. All the primary colors sort of clash, but in a weird way, come out bold as well.  

“Golf pro?” Lena asks with a light laugh, looking up at Kara in mild surprise. “What’s your real job?” 

Kara laughs in turn. “Just think about it, and text me.” Lena gives her a coy smile, turning on her heel and walking away. This whole thing was fun, but she’s put off her shopping long enough.

“Not texting you, Tiger Woods!” She calls over her shoulder as she goes.

“Just think about it!” Kara calls after her. Lena hums to herself, slipping the card into the pocket of her coat to throw away later. 

 

*

*

*

 

“Alex, you are not going to believe what happened at the mall!” Kara calls out to her sister as she rushes into her apartment, hastily hanging up her coat. Before stepping into the hallway, she flips off her shoes, almost stumbling over the welcome matt that Winn got her as a housewarming gift last year. It says ‘Welcome’ in binary code. Or at least that’s what Winn told her. Kara has no idea.      

Alex, whose suitcase is still being unpacked on Kara’s couch from her flight last night, looks up from her work of folding laundry. Swimsuits and neon Rip Curl surf shirts lay in a rainbow everywhere on the far side, slowly transforming themselves into folded stacks on the other side of the couch that Alex adds another folded pair of pants to before looking up at her sibling. “You get a good deal for the pants?” Alex asks tiredly, adding a light blue Quicksilver tank top to the pile of folded clothes. Her short cropped hair is wet, like she’d just gotten out of a shower. Alex always keeps it pretty short. Kara forgets what she’s about to say for a second as she takes her sister in. 

Alex has a deep tan around this time of year from being outside, bringing out a slight spray of freckles up and down her arms. Despite them not being related by blood, Kara gets the same patterning of freckles every summer. A pale strip interrupts it on her wrist where her surf watch or Apple Watch usually sits. Kara doesn’t like to wear watches, especially if she knows she’s going to get it wet. Sensory issue thing. (She only has to grit and bear it when she goes to Proams, where she needs to look the part of a higher tax bracket to attract potential clients. Wearing a Rolex and striking up a conversation about it with someone on the green could be the thing that gets her another sponsor down the line.) The deep tan on Alex’s skin almost hides the dark circles under her eyes. Almost. But Kara knows what to look for. Melbourne is a whole 17 hours behind Chicago, so whenever Alex visits, she gets extremely jet lagged. You wouldn’t be able to tell unless you knew her, though. Kara can remember that even before she started climbing charts in competitions as a teenager, Alex just had a way of carrying herself that others their age didn’t. It had been something they had in common when Kara came to live with the Danvers. Not only is it just in Alex’s nature to be rigid, but years of being a semi pro surfer in her teens and early twenties has given Alex an almost military disciplined good posture. Her current job as a part time surf instructor and full time head of the Melbourne parks and recreation department also gives her that extra edge. Despite how tired Kara knows she is, Alex always ends up unpacking almost immediately and moving her things into the little home office that Kara converted into a guest room. By ‘converted’, Kara means, ‘added a blow up mattress and a dresser’. She does rent this place, after all.

She's overjoyed to be having Alex round for a stay again so soon after her last visit to the city. She's not sure why her sister had insisted on visiting not once, but twice in one month, claiming it was because all her acquired PTO was going to expire in the new year. It made sense enough that Kara hadn't questioned it, but then Alex had mysteriously gotten a bit busy when she was here last, claiming that she was 'sight seeing' in America. Disappearing for long hours, ducking out to make hushed phone calls. Getting caught in little lies. Kara had made her own call to Eliza in secret after attempts to ask Alex directly had been brushed off, and it had confirmed the same; Alex has been acting strange for the last month back down under. This time though, Kara is determined to make the trip count, even if Alex is hiding something from her. Kara's going to jam pack her visit with so much sibling bonding time that there's no way she won't get to the bottom of it. Alex folds up a crisp salmon polo, placing it in a separate pile from the surf trunks.     

“Was that my shirt?” Kara asks distractedly. “I told you, you don’t have to do my laundry every time you come here.” 

Alex ignores her, continuing to fold the mix of her and Kara’s laundry as she unpacks her’s from her suitcase. “What happened at the mall?” She reminds patiently.    

“Oh, right!” Kara brightens at the reminder. “So, I was returning the pants, and guess what.”

Alex rolls her eyes, but humors Kara. “What?”

“I met someone.” Kara admits, bouncing up and down on her toes. Alex gives her an unimpressed look.

“Kara, you’re always meeting someone .” She says, putting the end in air quotes. Kara pouts at her. Her sister is unmoved. 

“Not like this one.” Kara says confidently. “This one gave me a solution to my dating dilemma.” At this, Alex spares her another glance. With a raised eyebrow and a small downturn of her mouth, Alex signals that she’s listening. Kara continues. “Well,” She says, starting to pace, “I went back to return the pants, and one thing led to another, and the next thing I know, I was getting a pretzel with a woman,” Kara doesn’t look up to see it, but Alex gives her a bewildered look at that. “And she mentioned that the mall santa her aunt took home was a holidate!” Kara stops pacing, looking pleased at Alex. 

Alex, frozen now with half of a folded pair of pants in her hands, blinks at her slowly. “I’m sorry, I only got half of that. You… got a pretzel with someone… whose aunt is dating santa?”  She asks haltingly. Kara wants to jump in and say that it wasn’t just some woman, rather, it was a woman named Lena , who is quite possibly one of the most beautiful women Kara has ever seen in her life. Whose laugh Kara can’t get out of her head. Or the way her accent had wrapped around her name after she had introduced herself. American, with just the barest hint of something lilting. Like the way Maccas ice cream melts off a spoon. A woman who immediately recited her pronouns like it wasn’t a faux pas or weird to ask, making her stomach do a proper flip. Bloody hell. 

Shaking her head to clear it, Kara blows a raspberry at her sister. “Alex! Focus. The mall santa was her aunt’s holidate . That’s what I need!” 

“A holidate?” Alex asks, trying the word out with a shake of her head. “Is that some new dating app you’re trying now?” As if Bumble, Tinder, and Hinge weren't enough.

"Sit down and stop folding for a tick. I'll tell you everything over a bit of brekkie." Kara orders, heading to the kitchen to whip something up. Quality sibling bonding time starts now. She's going to sit her sister down and tell her every single detail about this mall trip, and Lena, but her stomach had started growling on the cab ride home from the mall. Needs like that must be attended to. 

Alex seems happy for the distraction, moving aside a pile of underwear and flopping down on the couch. 

"Brew me a cuppa!" Alex calls after her. "And don't be stodgy with the cream!"   

 

*

*

*

 

Lena speaks directly into her earbud’s microphones, using her mouse cursor to direct her boss’s eye to the part of her screen that she’s sharing. She’s back in her element after wrapping up her early morning mall shopping, in the carefully curated office space of her flat. The blinds are open just enough to light up the place and let her enjoy the little sunlight that a winter day offers without disturbing her flow with a glare over her computer screen. She had her morning coffee before she left to go return Sam’s present, and drank her pre afternoon tea when she got back. She’d done her usual stretching routine before this too, leaving her refreshed and ready for this end of the year run down meeting. Jess had given her most of the day off because of the holiday week, so this meeting is the only work related thing she has to attend today. Lunch, a kale salad from her favorite restaurant at the mall that she had swiped, waits for her in the first shelf of her refrigerator, waiting for the clock to strike noon. The small digital clock at the corner of her desk that lights up green shows the time of 11am. “So, it looks like the results of the experiments in Lab B and C were cohesive, but-” 

Suddenly, there’s a buzz from her left as the screen of her phone lights up with a contact photo. It’s Lilian, trying to FaceTime her. During her work hours. In the middle of her presentation. Again. Her boss makes a face at her from the corner of the screen of her laptop. Lena weighs her options. Answer the phone, possibly piss off her boss. Don’t answer the phone, undoubtedly piss off Lilian. With a heavy sigh pushed out through her nose, she turns professionally apologetic eyes to her boss and the zoom meeting she’s currently hosting with her.

“I’ll have the final results published by the end of the work day.” She finishes up, projecting the data onto the screen. “I’m sorry, can I step away for a second and call you right back? Yeah, for sure.” She gets her phone right on the last ring, sending Jess to a breakout room and sliding the cover over her laptop’s webcam as she swipes to answer. 

“Lilian, I’m working.” Lena hisses by way of greeting. The empty mug of relaxing herbal tea she drank this morning sits next to her, its positive effects now completely down the shitter. 

“That’s what you wear to work?” Lilian drawls, doing that thing that older people do where they get way too close to the camera. It makes her eye look huge before she eventually pulls it back. “You could at least wear a nice top.” Lena suppresses an eye roll, her blood pressure building with the next words out of Lilian’s mouth. “Lena, I want you to meet someone.” The camera lurches to the left with a jerk, much like her stomach, to reveal a slightly awkward looking brown man. He waves politely with a smile. “This is our new neighbor, Jack Spheer.” Lena’s ears catch on the last name. Spheer. Sounds familiar. Undoubtedly familiar, if Lilian is introducing them. “Jack is a doctor, and he’s single. She’s much prettier with makeup.” Lilian adds, turning to him.

“I am wearing makeup.” Lena replies tersely, rubbing at her temples. 

“Say hello, Jack.” Lilian instructs, steamrolling over her.

“Hello.” Jack greets. Somehow Lilian had gotten this new neighbor on the couch next to her to make the call. He shifts awkwardly as she tries to keep him in frame so that he doesn’t end up in her lap. Lena takes a second look. It’s not that he isn’t attractive, from what Lena can see. In fact, he’s quite handsome. He has kind, intelligent brown eyes set under thick eyebrows, complemented by his dark brown complexion. His full lips are set in an extremely well maintained beard that borders just on the edge of being long. Thick looking black hair slicked up pompadour style on the top of his head with a clean shave on the sides. He speaks with a British accent. But despite all of these things, Lena is not interested . 

“Jack is free on New Years-” Lilian starts. 

“Goodbye mother.” Lena interrupts, hanging up the call with a new found determination. Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Lena has had enough. Had enough of her family. Had enough of Lilian calling her during her work hours, trying to introduce her to new neighbors and board member’s grandsons and family friends. Tired of the constant judgment. She doesn’t care that this man is single, or that he’s a doctor, or that he’s free on New Years, or that Lilian clearly approves of him. Everyone’s harassing her to just find some man or woman. She doesn’t need all that.

And suddenly it hits her. Maybe she doesn’t need a man or a woman. Maybe she doesn’t need someone everyone approves of, or something that’s going to go somewhere. Something with strings. Maybe she just needs a holidate. Launching out of her chair, she stalks through her apartment until she reaches her coat rack, digging through the pocket of her coat until her fingers catch on the glossy business card she forgot to throw away.  

                

Chapter 3

Notes:

If you forgot, three stacked '*' indicates a POV switch, while three *** indicate a little time jump

“I think the leather vest mate is up now.” Kara says to her date, pointing with the little finger of the hand she has wrapped around a short cocktail. The amber liquid sloshes around, clinking the ice against the glass like tiny little bells. The other patrons of the Skyfall party float around them, a loud, always moving conglomerate of sheilas and blokes and everyone in between. Lena claps her hands in excitement at Kara’s offered challenge, focusing sharp green eyes on the man standing about twenty paces away from them in a small group. They’re all wearing those cheap new years glasses that try to make the numbers work around the frames. Kara doesn’t know why anyone still bothers to make those since the last year that made them look even remotely clever was 2009.      

“Okay,” Lena starts, shifting her weight to the other foot as she looks him up and down. With Lena’s focus now on someone else, Kara takes yet another chance to take her in. 

Lena had shown up to wait in the ticket line looking absolutely stunning , and Kara had to recover from it for the better part of the past hour. Black dress with a respectable but still inviting neckline, raven hair that Kara had only guessed the length of during their first meeting falling in gentle waves just down past her shoulders, fingernails painted black and gold to match the surrounding decor. The green eyes that were so striking under mall fluorescents seemed to almost glow in the cold night air. It had taken the Aussie’s breath away. If she’s being honest, Kara can’t quite believe her luck. Figured Lena wouldn’t take her up on the offer for a date, especially since she’d buggered up the asking so bad. With a wince and another sip of her drink, she thinks back on the stammering mess she’d made of herself at the mall, trying desperately to make her case as to why Lena should go to this party with her. ‘ I don’t think I even find you that attractive.’ Why in the actual bloody hell had she said that to this woman? Alex had asked the same question when Kara had served her a fry up that morning, almost throwing the jar of vegemite at her head. Quickly explaining everything that went down over snags and toast, Kara had then told Alex how she’d saved it with the follow up. 

‘ Not that you’re not attractive, just that maybe you’re not attractive to me?’ 

That hadn’t really convinced Alex to spare her a lecture. But what was Kara supposed to do? Be honest and sound like a total googan? Somehow she didn’t think, ‘Hello random woman who I have never met before in my life. I am a stranger at the mall, and I think you’re a drop dead stunner! Would you like to go to a random party with me and then never see eachother again?’ would have gone over well either. Kara couldn’t just show her whole hand like that. That would have made her look insane. And after the nightmare with Imra on Christmas, Kara desperately didn’t want to go about giving yet another person the wrong idea. Maybe it’s better that Lena thinks Kara’s not that into her. Safer that way.      

A shot in the dark with a gorgeous stranger at the mall, one phone call and a resizing of her best casual suit later, and now she’s gotten exactly what she wanted to reign in the new year; drunk mocking strangers and actually managing to chum up. Lena’s nails tap thoughtfully on the glass of white wine Kara bought her when they arrived. The bubbles in it dance as they rise. “He’s an options trader. Divorced. One- no… two kids. At Northwestern.” Kara nods along with the narrative Lena’s created for the man based on looks alone. “She,” Lena points to the woman hanging off his arm, “was the decorator on his new condo, hoping to be wife number three.” She finishes, a pleased smile settling on her lips. Kara has to hide her own behind the rim of her glass. As if he knows he’s being watched, the man suddenly looks up, then at them, causing Lena and Kara to look away quickly like caught children. 

“Very good. I’m impressed.” Kara complements with a wide grin, eyes already scanning for the next target for her turn. It has to be a good one, she very badly wants to impress Lena. The wit on this woman alone is invigorating, just like it had been at the mall, and it has Kara wishing she had some sort of advantage here. A few people catch her eye, like the woman failing to get a waiter's number, or the man standing off to the side by the bar, clearly falling asleep already even though the doors only opened an hour ago at 6pm. But both would be too obvious. Drunk mocking strangers isn’t usually a competition like this, but Lena’s so clever, Kara’s having a hard time one upping her intricately concocted narratives. Keeping her on her toes, this one. It’s fun. It’s exciting. It’s challenging.  

Plus, the views not bad, now that she’s gotten a proper gander at it. They’d found their way onto the upper deck of the opera house almost immediately, a sprawling feat of the architecture. It’s reminiscent of the globe theater in terms of layout, the wide observation deck lined with a beautiful glass railing that she and Lena currently lean against, giving view to the main performance stage a short story below. The seating area in front of the stage has been converted into a decent sized dance floor for the event. Lights of all colors swirl about from some kind of lighting setup in the rafters to illuminate party goers that are already jiving to the music. Seating booths are set up to the far left of them for people who might want to sit down. The entrance to the rooftop bar is somewhere on the far left of them past some double swinging exit doors, but Kara hadn’t been in much of a rush after Lena and her had gotten drinks.   

Suddenly, Kara finds her next target. A couple. A woman in a white dress with immaculately curled brown hair, done up face, and an entourage of bezzie mates flitting around her trading sporting looks. Next to her, a bloke about her age, in a suit that Kara can tell he rented. “There,” She points subtly, leaning into the other woman to mutter into her ear. Lena turns to look, the sharp turn of her head sending her dangling silver and diamond earrings swinging against the sharp cut of her jawline, and Kara almost forgets what she was about to say, overwhelmed with the desire to reach out and touch . Almost. “White satin ruffles. Rented tux. And the mate is just drenched in sweat.” As if to emphasize this, the man steps to the side, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to mop at his forehead. “They are definitely getting engaged at midnight.” 

Lena’s sharp eyes scan the tableau in front of them, as if appraising all of Kara’s points and checking them thoroughly with what she sees. Kara waits with bated breath. Finally, after a long pause and a thoughtful sip of her wine, (during which Kara tries and fails to keep her eyes from tracking the movement of the brunette’s throat), Lena turns to Kara, a smile slowly creeping across her face. 

“You’re good.” She appraises, green eyes cutting along her face quickly. Kara’s heart soars, fluttering around in her chest like a… what’s this country’s national bird again? A Seagull?  

“It’s a gift.” She says with a casual shrug, hiding her pleased smile behind her drink as she tips her head back to finish it off. With the liquid courage, Kara feels her tongue unlock a bit. “By the way,” she goes for casual, despite wanting to say this since she laid eyes on Lena tonight, “Your figure looks exceptional in that dress.” Lena turns to her just in time to catch Kara eyeing a particularly specific part of her figure . Shifting a bit to face her, rolling her shoulders back just a bit and breathing in a specific way… angling her jaw just so… trailing a finger along the silver chain of her necklace that leads down to…

“Thanks. That’s why I bought it.” Lena admits, acting as if she hadn’t just… well. “You like the way it hugs my ass too?” If Kara had been taking a sip, she might have choked on it. A slow grin spreads across Lena’s face, warm feeling flowing in Kara’s stomach at the flash of her teeth. 

But something about it had been a bit… biting? Like the flirt hadn’t landed right, or Lena had been being sarcastic. Something about her date’s expression is definitely… closed now? Maybe Kara just doesn’t know Lena well enough yet to catch the little things. Or maybe, when something is locked up a bit tight, you have to use something a little sharp to get under the latch. Scrape away at the paint. Perhaps if Kara’s going to flirt with this one, she’ll have to be a little sharper. 

In short, Kara decides that maybe someone like Lena, so clearly clever, needs someone to rib. Nettle flirt. Aussie style. 

“This is great.” Kara admits in faux sincerity. “I can say whatever I want, because I don’t care if you think I’m a classy guy or not.” Peeking out the corner of her eye, she sees Lena stiffen a bit. It’s brief, but it’s there. A pause, like how a fox perks up its ears. 

“And I can wear a slutty dress and not have to worry about being slut shamed.” Lena admits. Kara breaks into yet another grin. 

“What a holidate bonus!” She cheers, holding her hand up for a high five. Lena deftly ignores it, but doesn’t roll her eyes. Kara still counts it as a win, but the ice might be a bit thin, so with a spin on her heel, she quickly finds someone in the crowd to continue her game. Lena had been way more receptive and open when they’d been playing. “Oh!” Quickly pointing a finger past Lena’s face, Kara draws attention to a new couple headed right towards them. It’s an older woman, maybe fiftyish, hard to tell in the dark lighting of the venue until the lights from the dance floor below change from green and purple to large sweeping beams of red and orange. She’s wearing an incredibly revealing silver dress, complete with some kind of silver headpiece on top of her wavy brown hair. A bit strange, but it’s New Year's after all, and Kara can fully admit she’s rocking it. Behind her drags a much younger bloke in one of those French hats that looks like it's been squashed, looking confused and dazed but not protestfull, despite how bent over he is. The older, and also much shorter woman, seems to be dragging him by his tie.

“He is a sexually confused art student with mommy issues, and she’s a wealthy widow with a taste for bondage.” To really hit it home, Kara mimics the sound of a whip crack. But when she turns to look at Lena’s reaction, Lena looks like she isn’t listening at all.

“Aunt Rhea?” Lena calls out. The woman goes from playfully slapping the young man in the face with his own tie to staring at Lena with wide eyes.

“Lena! Baby.” Without warning, this ‘Aunt Rhea’ crosses the gap between the two pairs and pulls a slightly off balance Lena in for a hug and a side kiss. “Your tits look great in that dress!” She exclaims brightly. Kara watches as Lena closes her eyes tightly for just a second, jaw flexing like she can’t believe this is happening, before opening them again. Kara then remembers that she’s trying to nettle flirt. This aunt clearly gets to Lena in the same way that Kara’s comments just did.    

“That’s exactly what I said!” Kara adds brightly. “Gooday, I’m Kara.” She smiles, reaching very obviously between them and holding her hand out for a shake. Lena gives her a murderous look out the side of her eye, which Kara ignores with a funny little zing around her heart that comes with nettling someone cute. At least now she has Lena’s attention again. Lena’s aunt looks at the two of them then back at her date. 

“This is…” She hesitates, clearly casting about her mind for the name, “Bart.”

“It’s Barry, actually.” He mutters. Rhea blinks at him, waving a hand in dismissal before cozying up to him. Kara wants to chuff at that. This must be the aunt Lena had mentioned at the mall.

“We met at the Art Institute.” Rhea explains, turning her attention back to Lena as her hand tightens on Barry’s tie. “I was a nude model for his figure sculpting class. He made me the perfect clay cl-”

“Rhea!” Lena cuts in sharply with a strangled laugh. “I’m sure the details of your meet cute can be a little lost on us.” Rhea just narrows her eyes at her niece, a small smile creeping across her face. Same one that, Kara notes, had appeared on Lena’s face before she had asked if Kara had liked the way her dress hugged her ass. Family resemblance.

“Anyway, you have to see it.” 

A firm shake of her head from Lena, wonderful earrings glittering at her jawline again as they catch the mango colored lights of the dancefloor below. “Pass, thanks.”

And Kara had been just about to say something along the lines of, ‘I’d like to see that’ , or maybe a bolder ‘did you happen to get a pick of it on your phone?’ But, as if she’d sensed it, Lena reaches out subtly with her pinky finger, jabbing into the side of Kara’s trouser pocket like a little hook, tugging her subtly back from Rhea. 

Kara’s heart soars like the American national bird; the seagull.  

“Well, happy New Years, kids. Have fun!” Rhea winks with a shoulder shimmy, dragging her date off towards the direction of the rooftop bar. 

“Your aunt seems nice.” Kara comments. 

“I need a drink.” Lena sighs, shaking out her hands.

 

*

*

*

 

Lena can admit, potentially, maybe, this night wasn’t an entire waste of her time. The music has wound down a bit, less intense than when the doors had first opened, but still entertaining enough to dance to. Probably so that guests can get their drinks and not have to shout over each other for a bit as the long haul to midnight continues. Events usually follow that kind of formula. Get everyone in the door from the line outside, let them burn off some energy from all the waiting, then slow it down a bit as people chat over drinks. The venue is, as Lena expected, amazing all around. Great sweeping lights of different sunset colors that barely reached them from the upper deck now light the profiles of people’s faces, the walls of the corner booth Lena sits in, the floor filled with partygoers. The drinks have been amazing, and all local. The security is present enough that she feels safe, but not overtly watched. No one has come up to her to film her on an iphone, or yell at her, or ask her about her family. The live stream cameras are easily avoidable out on the rooftop bar, so no need to worry about her accidentally becoming a trending headline. The music rumbles pleasantly in her ribcage, making her insides feel warm.

Plus, Kara’s here too. Kara, who it turns out, isn’t bad company. Looking temptingly handsome in a casual suit, blonde hair falling down in waves, blue eyes sparkling in the ever changing lights of the venue. Attentive. Offering to get her a drink a few times, but not in a pushy way like she’s trying to get Lena drunk. Funny. Matching her level of drunk mocking strangers, even though Sam makes her answers a little more inventive. Calm. Seeming perfectly happy to sit down with her in a quieter area. The soft pinks of a sunset trail over them both now, reclined in one of the padded corner booths set up on the lower floor. 

Lena’s hesitant to admit it, but they’ve maintained that strange electric energy between them that they had during their first meeting. Those moments of understanding with nothing said. That doesn’t mean that Lena’s going to entertain being flirted with, no matter how bright the blonde’s smile becomes after she successfully makes her laugh at a joke. Just because she isn’t terrible company, doesn’t mean Lena’s ready to forget what’s really going on here. It’s just a date, and Kara doesn’t really find her attractive. She’s said so herself. No matter how tempting it might be to take Kara’s comments seriously. They’re just each other’s holidates. 

But oh, what a holidate , Lena thinks to herself after Kara reclines towards her in the booth, masculine lines of her silhouette in a suit threatening to pull her eyes towards the broadness of her shoulders yet again. Not that there’s any specific way to be nonbinary and express your gender, but Lena can certainly appreciate the way Kara does it. The balance of it all. The movements of her hands and eyes.  

“I just don’t think her character would ever do that.” Lena argues. They’ve started up a round of small talk that, unlike the last handful of dates Lena can remember, doesn’t feel like needles are being pushed into her eye. After discovering that they both watched the same season finale of a show, Kara had wanted to discuss what Lena had thought. They clearly disagree, though. 

Kara looks at her funny. “Who cares? It was hilarious!”

“It was totally redundant.” Lena laughs. 

“No one uses that word to describe a romcom.” 

At this, Lena takes another sip of her craft beer. “Well, it’s the only word I know that accurately describes every romantic comedy in history.” Kara gestures with her drink, as if to say, go on , so Lena does. “There’s always some fake reason the stars can’t be together when you know they’re gonna be together from the poster. It’s like, ‘Oh, boo-hoo. I’m so heartbroken. Even though you’re perfect for me, I’m taking a break from dating.’,” Lena actually lets herself laugh at the face Kara makes at her for this opinion.

“I mean, no one is ever taking a break from dating! Believe me, I tried.” Kara nods at this, looking drunkenly thoughtful as she fishes the cherry from her dirty shirley out of her glass. They’re both a bit past buzzed at this point, Lena assumes. “And let me tell you, if Ryan Gosling waltzed in here, picked me up, floated me around to the theme of Dirty Dancing , I’m not gonna be like, ‘Oh, hey, Ryan, buddy, bad timing. I’m taking a break from dating’.”

At this, Kara scoffs playfully. “He does make a good lead.” She takes a minute to pop the cherry in her mouth, stem disconnecting from it with a little snap, and chew it slowly, rolling the stem around in her hand like a fidget instead of her reaching up to touch her glasses. A clearing of the throat, a subtle shift towards Lena in the booth, an errant lock of blonde hair falling just so that it frames the softening of Kara’s face. The sound of the cherry stem getting flicked onto the table in front of them. Lena’s whole body threatens to tense. “Who was this dickhead that ruined romantic comedies for you?” Her date asks in that thick accent from down under.  

Lena feels her mouth thin into an awkward smile. “I’d rather not go there. It wasn’t just one reason.” And Kara just looks at her so damn softly as the pink lights drift over her face. The booth is cozy, like they’re in their own little world.  

“Come on,” Kara shrugs, arms open wide to rest on the back of the booth. Her suit jacket’s inner liner where it gapes open at the sides looks dark and warm. Lena thinks fuzzily that it might be nice to cozy up against Kara, this interesting human. A human with a wonderful balance of masculine and feminine energy. She quickly silences that thought, though. Kara’s talking again. 

“We’re already here, aren’t we? What have you got to lose?” Lena can sense the shift like you anticipate stepping into hot water. It stings at first, but maybe it’s not as unpleasant as you’d expect. Therapeutic, even. Kara is so handsome and kind, and right in front of her… Lena’s had a few drinks…This night has been much more fun than she thought it would be…She’s running out of reasons to avoid telling. It’s not like this is going anywhere. It’s just a holidate. So, with a quiet inhale, she tries.

“Kara, do you know who I am?” There’s a good chance Kara doesn’t know. Lena’s hoping Kara doesn’t know.

At the question, a strange look crosses her date’s features under the black rim of the glasses. Blue eyes dull to a gunmetal shine. It looks like she’s about to say something funny, but thinks better of it when Lena’s demeanor doesn’t shift. It’s all suddenly so serious. “Should I?” It’s said quieter than they’ve been talking, so that Lena has to half lipread it off the other’s face over the noise. Lena takes another breath. Just like in the mall, when Kara had first turned around in the line, they hold each other’s eyes for a strange amount of time. It should be weird. It really should. It’s not.

“You don’t know.” Lena realizes. A crinkle forms between Kara’s eyebrows. 

“I want to.” Is all she says, not daring to look away. Lena swallows. The pinky finger of Kara’s extended arm reaches towards Lena until it traces the shell of her left ear before retreating back to its place on top of the booth. It’s done so casually, probably because Kara’s about as drunk as she is now and might have some funny ideas about boundaries. But it makes Lena’s ear feel like it’s just been burned. Talk to me, the gesture says. Be brave , says the blue eyes staring at her. The concern and curiosity etched into Kara’s expression is like a stone tablet, unyielding. Before she does, Lena reaches up to place her hand next to Kara’s. Not touching, but almost. 

“Her name was Andrea.” Lena starts. Kara stares, cocks her head to the side like a tired dog. 

“And what happened with Andrea ? Was she a wanker?” Kara asks, half of her face lit with a dark blue lighting on the right, rich purple on the left. It makes her blue eyes turn black. 

Lena gives her a half laugh, more of a scoff as a pang runs through her chest. “No, no she wasn’t. She was smart. Beautiful. Ran triathlons. I mean, she had stamina …” Lena trails off, an image of the one time Andrea had come over right after a run in the rain forming in her mind unwelcome. Remembering how the smell of rain had clung to her hair as they had fallen into bed. Remembering how they had ordered take out that night instead of trying to cook in Lena’s minimally stocked kitchen. She had just moved into her new place then. The memories have a hold of her for a moment before she shoves them out the door like a guest that overstayed their welcome. “But in the end, we wanted different things.” Kara raises an eyebrow at her, expecting Lena to say the hidden part out loud, so she does. “I wanted someone to take home for the holidays. She wanted to text photos of her…umm… anatomy to the girl who made her double macchiato.” 

Kara winces, and Lena sees the pinky of the hand next to her’s twitch, like she’s itching to overlap it on Lena’s. “Ouch. I’m sorry, nobody deserves that.” Lena pulls her hand away before Kara can try it. 

“It’s partially my fault. I was…” She takes a deep breath, a swig of her drink, and says it with crescendo, “dealing with my late biological father being the face of a multimillion dollar lawsuit on medical malpractice after he promptly dropped dead, leaving my adoptive brother to take on the CEO title. I was a little busy helping him out with all that before I left the company myself. Didn’t make having a girlfriend a top priority.” 

Realization dawns on Kara’s face, and now it’s Lena’s turn to cringe.

“You’re Lena Luthor.” She says. Lena nods. “And your father was Lionel Luthor, the guy that… messed with all those bloke’s spunk?” Lena winces again at her date’s rough way of putting it.

“Lionel was convicted of splicing sperm donor's DNA samples without their knowledge, yes.” The words are well practiced enough at this point that not even the buzz of alcohol can make her slur them. L-Corp ran some of the biggest fertility hospitals on the east coast, but only two sperm banks. Lionel’s trials had slipped completely under everyone’s radar for long enough that it impacted the lives and births of one hundred and four documented individuals, fifty five of which had been able to conceive an offspring due to the splicing of a known and an unknown donor’s DNA. 

Not only had Lionel altered the lives of over a hundred individuals forever, but had also done so with his own son. Lex was desperate to be a father in the tail end of his twenties, to be as attentive and present a parent as possible for a child during their formative ages. His responsibilities at L-Corp were due to pick up once Lionel was ready for retirement, so his workload for the entirety of his thirties was bound to increase, and he didn’t want to be raising a young child during that time. But he hadn't met the right woman yet after college, and after trying for two years to conceive through a surrogate, he figured he was infertile… Until suddenly his luck had changed when Lionel had encouraged him to try just one more time. 

Her own nephew was the result of Lex’s gamete and an unknown donor’s spliced together in an unprecedented combination. Baby Connor had shown up as the only Luthor with blue eyes, dark hair, mild temperament, genetic nearsightedness that needed to be corrected with glasses, and a paternity test that had shown Lex was not the only father. 

“That must have been hard for you.” Kara says after a while. Lena gives her another half smile, about to wave off the concern, until her bladder reminds her urgently about the three drinks she’s had.

“I’ll be right back. Bathroom.” And with that, she excuses herself, getting away from Kara and their little world in the booth, feeling desperately like she needs fresh air. 

 

*

*

*

 

“Kara? Where are you? I can barely hear you!” Alex’s voice blares from Kara’s phone speaker.

“I’m at the skyfall party.” She explains, ducking down into the booth to try and block the sound from her surroundings. Suddenly, a female voice calls out from somewhere in the background of Alex’s end.

“Hey babe? Ruby’s got the game ready when you are!” 

Kara stops mid wiggle, butt slid off the booth seat as he heads underneath the table for some quiet. “Wait. Where are you?! Who was that?!” She shouts into the phone.

“Nowhere and no one! It’s the TV. I have it on loud so I can pretend I have a social life.” Alex immediately fires back. It’s clearly a lie, and Kara grinds her teeth, deliberating on whether or not to press that and risk getting hung up on, or ask her sister for the advice she’d called for. On the one hand, they never keep secrets from each other. Especially since Kara is pretty sure that was Alex’s date on the other end. But on the other, Lena’s just revealed some pretty big news, and a few dots have connected in Kara’s mind that can’t unconnect themselves. Ultimately, she decides to focus on the matter at hand.

“That holidate I was telling you about?”

“The stunner at the Mall, yeah?” Alex asks, her Aussie accent a little thick tonight. She must still be tired. That, or just really enjoying herself. 

“It’s Lena bloody Luthor.” Kara whisper screams into the phone. Distantly, Alex gasps.

“ Lena Luthor?! As in, the chick who’s family your reporter cousin blew the fuckin whistle on?”

“Yes!” Kara exclaims, finally slipping ungracefully under the table to crouch. She can finally hear her sister without pressing the phone to her ear. “What do I do? Do I tell her? The date was going so well!” Dragging her hand down her face, the blonde peers out past the legs of the table to watch for Lena. “She’s funny, and gorgeous, and knows how to read binary code. We talked about the season Finale of Killing Eve and Farscape and The Good Place and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina …”

“Well, Kara-” 

“And she’s so smart , Alex. If she asks the right questions I don’t know if I can dance around it if it comes up.” Kara moans. “I mean, she just kinda opened up to me about it and I feel kinda bad about the whole thing because of Clark and her ex sounds like a real bitch, so that’s a bummer.” 

“I mean-” Alex tries to cut in again. Kara steams on, unable to shut her mouth to stop the onslaught of nervous babble.

“And she doesn’t seem crazy like Imra had and her last relationship kinda went down in flames like me and Mike-”

“KARA.” Alex cuts in finally. Kara blinks owlishly at the phone. 

“Yeah?”

The older sighs in relief like she’s finally caught her. “What does it matter if she’s only your holidate?” Alex asks. The question hangs in the air for a bit, before Alex asks another. “If you’re never seeing her again, and if it’s not going anywhere serious, then just enjoy her company tonight and don’t stick your foot in your mouth? Yeah?” Alex’s words calm her down instantly, but something about the statement still unsettles her. Kara shouldn’t care that much. The whole point of this arrangement was to make dating easier. But Lena wasn’t what she had expected, and somehow, between drunk mocking strangers and watching Lena’s earrings sway along her jawline, her mind had tricked her into thinking about the possibility of more dates. Made her forget for a minute. 

“Why do you always know what to say?” She half laughs, pressing the phone to her forehead. She wishes Alex were here, but she’s glad her sister is possibly pashing someone tonight. Alex needs to pash more than anyone. Alex laughs gently from the other line. “Anyway, I’ll quit having a winge. I love you, Alex. Have a happy New Year.” 

“I love you too, Kara. See you next year.” And with that, Alex ends the call, and Kara crawls back up around the table into the booth feeling smacked. 

 

*

*

*

 

The bathroom is just as crowded as Lena expected it would be, most bathrooms in big parties are. But the situation she walks into is definitely one for the record books.    

That situation being, the women in the white satin getup they’d seen earlier bawling her eyes out as her friends swarm her in a flurry like a flock of frantic birds.

“It looks like I got stabbed!” She cries. Lena stands stock still in the doorway, watching this all unfold. A panicked glance at the stalls tells her none of them are open. One of the attending best friends steps to the side for a minute to run some paper towels under the faucet of the sink, coming back to dab at something on the woman’s dress. A shift to the left and Lena sees what it is; a huge red wine stain flowering over the woman’s hip, completely ruining the dress. Her friend’s paper towels aren’t going to do shit. 

“It’s just wine! He’ll understand.” One of her friends offers comfortingly. White satin just continues to cry, fat tears rolling down her face, ruining her makeup. Two of her friends off to the side trade despairing looks. No one has noticed Lena quite yet, too fully entangled in the situation at hand to notice any new arrivals. Lena feels a prickle of uncomfort on the back of her neck as none of the stalls suddenly become available for her to duck into. 

“I can’t get engaged wearing this dress!” To this statement, her friends all coo comforting denials. Lena fights a smile. Kara had been right in her prediction earlier. Pretty sharp for a golfer. The moment of personal levity is gone when Lena looks over at the stalls again and not one opens. In front of her, the nightmare dress scenario plays on. 

“It’s really not that bad, it kinda looks like a flower!” One woman tries optimistically. A chorus of agreement from the other woman follows closely. White satin just continues to cry.

“Yeah, a flower of blood! I’m Carrie!” And Lena squints, cocks her head to the side to take it in, and she has to agree with her there. The friends look amongst each other in panic, clearly all realizing that cleaning the dress is out, and so is convincing their friend that it’s passable as something intentional, they seem to leap to desperate measures. 

“I’ll trade with you!” The blonde friend dabbing at the dress declares. For a second, Lena’s heart softens in a strange relief for the crying woman. Why hadn’t they all suggested that earlier? When the woman stands up, an entire head separating their respective heights, Lena gets her answer. White satin looks at the tall woman’s shoes, dress, and finally eyes in utter hopeless crawl of a gaze, before wiping at her eyes.

“ Let’s just go. ” She pleads, in the most heart wrenching way, before turning on her heels… and running straight into Lena. 

“Oh, umm, hi.” She greets. The other woman gives her a once over, eyes wide and blurry, and promptly bursts into tears.

“Oh god, you look so beautiful!” She cries. Lena takes a deep breath in, and lets it out.

 

*

*

*

 

Kara wasn’t sure what she expected when Lena returned to their table, but it wasn’t that her date would be wearing a completely different dress. 

“Don’t ask.” Lena holds a hand up as Kara’s jaw drops open. Kara takes tipsy stock of the new situation, Alex’s words of good advice ringing in her ears.

Just enjoy her company tonight and don’t stick your foot in your mouth? Yeah?  

Lena seems fine, and Kara is fine again, so who cares? Why not just… live for tonight? With an almost audible pop Kara closes her mouth, mimes zipping it, and stands abruptly to drag her date to the dance floor. Lena lets out a startled laugh as Kara takes her hand to drag her away towards the flashing lights and pulsing crowd. Seems they’re not done surprising each other yet. In hindsight, Kara should have known not all the surprises were going to be good ones.  

 

***

 

Kara is once again having a smashing time on this date. Lena can dance, and the music is great, and everyone around them is swirling and bumping and jumping… The hours towards midnight seem to peel away and stick to the wall. Lena’s impromptu wardrobe change doesn’t seem to be bothering her, even if she gives off a faint whiff of merlot when she twirls, and it certainly doesn’t bother Kara with the way it fits her just as well as the other one. 

A woman dancing with an excited bloke gets a bit close to them during one song, tapping Lena on the shoulder to get her attention. Lena turns with a nervous look at someone getting her attention in public, which Kara now realizes is probably because she’s Lena Luthor. But once she sees the bright smile on the girl’s face, and the dress that used to be Lena’s on her frame, she smiles too. 

“You look great!” Lena mouths, giving her a thumbs up. The other woman does that amazing thing that some women do where they get excited with each other; grabs Lena’s hands and shakes up and down before twirling back into the arms of her boyfriend. Lena in turn twirls into Kara’s arms, tipping her head back to laugh. Song after song plays, and Kara feels invincible on the dance floor, three drinks in with the most interesting date she’s had all year. So invincible, in fact, that she gets a crazy idea when the first bars of The Time of My Life start to play, and she catches sight of the way Lena’s whole face lights up.

“You wanna?” She turns to Lena. Lena’s eyes narrow, then go wide when she pieces together what Kara’s suggesting.

“Can you even lift me?” She asks in surprise. Her green eyes are laced with utter suspicion as they trail over Kara’s upper body, as if she’s stripping Kara naked in her mind to somehow guess if the muscle there is enough to theoretically lift her bodyweight over her head in the iconic dance move from the movie. Kara makes a muscle with both arms, cocky grin firmly fixed in place.

“I wrestled crocks back in ‘stralia darlin.” Kara winks, hamming up her accent to a frankly Dundee level. Lena rolls her eyes. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just refer to me as a giant lizard. But seriously, get real.” She says. Kara, in response, starts moving everyone away from them with wide arms. 

“Ok everyone, clear a space!” She says before turning to look at Lena expectantly. Lena’s face steels, and without another word and an unsuccessfully hidden smile, she backs up to the far side of the crowd to run. The lyrics of the song keep singing, the male and female voices intermingling and building up to the most iconic moment in movie history. The crowd of dancers around them seem to realize what’s about to happen, and there are choruses of whoops and cheers as Lena backs up for a running start.

“Are you sure about this?” She calls. Kara just waves her on, getting into a crouch as she starts clapping, encouraging the others around her to keep time.  

“I won’t drop you!” She calls out. Lena looks terrified, but for some reason, she runs. The crowd around them starts chanting. Go, go, go! Kara plants her feet, hands outstretched, and when Lena jumps, she catches her by the hips and lifts. The crowd around them erupts in cheers, some getting out cell phones to take pictures, some just going absolutely crazy. The noise is enough to cave in Kara’s head, but she focuses all her energy on not dropping Lena. Her arms burn, her thighs stretched tightly against her dress pants. Despite her body screaming a little, Kara focuses all her energy on keeping Lena up in the air. She’s done this once or twice with Alex, she knows she can hold it a little longer, especially with how the whole party is going absolutely crazy. 

It’s not until the crowd’s cheers start to sound like laughter and shock does Kara catch onto the fact that something is wrong. When the sound of tearing fabric hits her ears, Kara assumes it’s her jacket. Or her pants. Or some other third thing of hers . But a shocked voice shouts something off to the right, and it all clicks.

“ Boobs! Boobs! ” 

To Kara’s horror, that's exactly what she sees when she looks up at Lena… who’s traded dress has ripped at the shoulder and has now fallen down… quite a bit. Lena realizes it the second she and everyone else does, screams a startled yelp, and jerks to wrap her previously outstretched arms into herself to cover up.

Kara, flustered beyond possible survivability, does her best to lower Lena safely and gently to the ground to address the mortifying situation. What actually happens is that Kara completely loses balance, and drops them both to the floor. Hard.

 

*

*

*                                                     

     

The ice pack’s condensation drips a cold line down the back of Lena’s neck where they sit on the upper balcony where they first started their date.  

“Nobody drops Baby on her head.” She remarks flatly, not bothering to look at Kara. Kara presses her lips together with a wince, the matching ice pack in her large hand pressed to her shoulder now soaking a wet circle into her suit jacket. A numb acceptance has taken over Lena about the whole thing, while Kara seems to be stuck oscillating between being mortified on her behalf and pouting at how the moment went sour. Lena’s just glad they’re up here instead of down there by the scene of the crime, where there were way too many teasing looks and cameras. The last thing she needs is to be recognized in that video later down the line.   

With an awkward smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, Kara rises from the booth. “I’m gonna hit the head real quick.” Lena lets her go with a nod.     

As soon as Kara leaves her sight, the DJ grabs the mic.

“Alrighttttt!” He cajoles into the microphone, drumming the crowd up. “Are you ready for a new year, Chicago?” 

In response, all partygoers in the upper deck with her and the lower deck chorus a shout together. Lena just sighs, looking around for Kara to see if she’s back from the bathroom yet. She probably shouldn’t have tried to go right before the count down. The announcer continues on from the stage, and Lena rises out of the booth to watch from the railing. Below her the dance floor writhes in the light, blue and purple spotlights swing across the space lighting things up as they go. The wallpapered sides of the opera house are lit with warm gold lights that eventually make their way up to the glittering crystal chandelier above. This really is a beautiful venue, she thinks. On a quieter night, with friends, this might be a place she’d enjoy coming back to. But after the whole dirty dancing move had gotten a little too dirty, she’s not sure she could ever show her face here again, at risk of being recognized. A glance at her watch tells her Kara isn’t back yet, so with a sigh she resigns to watching the countdown alone from the railing.

“All right, grab your sweethearts and let’s do this thing!” The announcer shouts. The screen above the stage lights up with a large display of a fireworks countdown, while the crowd chants.

“Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one! Happy new year Chicago!” 

The band on the stage immediately begins the beginning notes of Auld Lang Syne as the spotlights roaming the crowd turn gold and blue, balloons of the same color being released from the ceiling to the crowd above as shiny bits of confetti rain down. Lena looks around, feeling outside her body. 

Everyone nearby is bathed in a red glow. Couples kissing, holding hands, smiling. Something in Lena’s chest twists, that familiar feeling she’d felt on her mother’s front porch on Christmas suddenly consuming her, because there’s nowhere to run. A sweep of her gaze and it lands on the woman she’d traded dresses with earlier, the guy next to her on one knee asking if she’d like to spend the rest of their lives together. She says yes, obviously, jumping into his arms as her friends cheer. They look so happy, and Lena manages a half smile for them while somehow feeling worse. It’s as if she’s not really there, just an observer watching the whole thing in slow motion. Happiness all around her. People just living their lives. What’s really the difference? Why can’t she ever manage to figure it out?

Kara comes back from the bathroom, apologizing for missing midnight and giving her a kiss on the cheek after hesitating to do it twice. 

 

***

 

The back of the cab they called is warmer than it had been on the street. They were lucky to grab one so soon before the rush of people flooded the sidewalk from the party. Lena attributes that to Kara’s height in comparison to most people there. Cabby probably saw her hand first. The ride so far has been a bit awkward, stilted with tension since Kara missed the countdown and Lena was left alone with herself for too long. 

That, and the holidate is technically over, right? 

It’s about the third or fourth time where they’ve glanced at each other at the same time or just missed it that Kara decides to talk their way out of it.

“I’ll say,” She starts off, turning just slightly in her seat to face Lena, “tonight didn’t suck. I actually had a fairly decent time.” Kara admits. Lena tries not to roll her eyes at such high praise, but she feels somewhat in agreement.

“Yeah, I mean, wasn’t the worst night of my life.” She answers noncommittal, still sore in places where she hit the floor and not wanting to give Kara an out. She’s going to have to hire someone to scrub the internet if someone posts a video of the dress disaster later, but if her automatic alert hasn’t gone off yet about her name appearing on youtube, she figures she’s safe. 

“It was really noble of you not to crack the shits about that dress bugger.” For a moment Lena is distracted by the way the seat belt tightens over Kara’s torso, wrinkling her suit, before Lena’s brain catches up with Kara’s insane Aussie slang. Lena just stares at her, sure she’s having a stroke. 

"What?” She asks, trying to hide her bewildered laugh. Kara flashes good teeth at her, shrugging.

“It was nice of you to do switchies with white ruffles in the bathroom. I’m sure you made her night. Her bloke popped the question.” Kara explains. Her arm extends to rest on the back of the seats, like she’s so long limbed that she can’t be cramped for long, like in the booth at the party. Lena glances at the warm little pocket that her suit jacket makes as it opens like a birdwing, but quickly draws her thoughts away from it. 

That does nothing to explain to Lena what the hell crack the shits means, but Lena sidesteps it, gesturing to her ruined dress that she guesses she sort of owns now? They didn’t really exchange contact information or anything, but it’s not like Lena can’t afford another one. “No good deed goes unpunished.” 

Kara laughs at that, and Lena feels like the tension has pretty much left the cab, which should make the rest of the ride fairly-

“So what are you doing for valentines?” 

Lena looks at her owlishly, feeling, once again, a little offended at the way Kara goes about asking her out. “That’s in two months?”

“Yeah, well,” Kara goes on, “If I lock in plans now, maybe I won’t do anything stupid.” 

Lena scoffs at that, feeling almost exactly like she had in the mall, but not quite as offended. After talking with Kara all night, Lena suspects she doesn’t mean to come off as assumptious as she does. “Mmmm. Flattered, but two months is a long time. A lot could happen before then.” She says. This was supposed to be a one time thing, and Lena was afraid of this maybe tipping into something else. But with the way Kara’s smile dims just the slightest as she hums in apparent agreement, Lena can’t help but feel a bit put out about this whole experiment coming to its natural conclusion. Kara really hadn’t been bad company, and Lena sort of wishes they weren’t already almost at her building. 

“And, you know, if not I have a standing date with a candy store, so…” Lena trails off, just to fill the silence and maybe add a bit of humor to the rejection, for Kara’s sake.

“Sure.” Kara nods along, leaning just a bit away and running a hand through her hair as they pull to a stop in front of Lena’s building. “Good night then. Happy new year.” The blonde acquiesces with a small, subdued smile, now fully reclined back to her side of the cab. Lena meets her eyes and holds them, making sure to leave with a smile. No hard feelings between them. 

“Happy new year.” Lena answers. With that, she flees, jumping out onto the icy sidewalk and shutting the taxi door. The cold breeze hits her face as it blows off the side of the nearby buildings, and Lena watches as the candied cherry color of the cab’s brake lights fade into the late night traffic.   

Notes:

Hello everyone, I'm back! Hope you guys who follow this story enjoyed the reveal about Lena's family. Any guesses as to who Connor's other dad could be??? Cheers, see you guys on valentines day!

Chapter 4

Notes:

Welcome back y'all. Let's see how our beloved Aussie and Business bitch deal with valentines day. As always, thanks for reading!

Before her, the stricken face of her brother’s fiancée looms, blue eyes wide with apparent terror. “What do you mean you don’t have a date for valentines day?!”

Lena pauses her task of matching color palettes to the pre-made cards on the rack, giving Eve a measured look. “Don’t say it like I just told you I have cancer, Eve.” She huffs. 

“But it’s valentines day! ” She persists. Eve continues to blink up at her, cardigan wearing sweet and doe eyed like a proper heiress to a cupcake family fortune. She’s even wearing a headband, for Christ sake. Lena wonders what her former wild child Bruce Wayne type brother sees in her as a partner. She seems a bit… well, sweet. Precious. Beside them, Sam sits amused, half filtering them out like a practiced mother as she arranges the spread of fonts in front of her on cream paper at the table next to Eve.

“No, Eve, it’s Thursday.” Lena gently rebuffs. She gives up on the color palette, padding back to the little table at the back of the store where Sam and Eve flip through thick binders of wedding invitation templates. It’s a cute little place, one of the small stores in the Chicago mall that’s really only one big room on the main strip. Annie Occasion isn’t very busy, but there’s still a few last minute type shoppers here for the holiday. Mostly men clutching flowers from the store a few leagues down as they browse the racks of ribbon, premade cards, and mountains of colored paper that are left. There’s a red banner towards the middle of the store that declares the season in bright, sparkling letters, and little confetti hearts sprinkled here and there on the shelves. The table they’re currently at seems littered with them as well. The store has gone all out, doubling their collection of Valentine’s Day cards and filling the entire side wall to push the less popular birthday, congratulations, and anniversary cards to the corners. Lena flicks one of the hearts nearest her, sending it fluttering onto Sam’s open page. Sam gives her a chiding look, flicking it back. 

“So, Sam, do you have any Valentine’s Day plans?” Eve asks innocently as she sets aside an invitation with elaborate white lace on the border into the ‘maybe’ pile. Beside her, Lena can almost feel Sam stop breathing. 

Sam’s still been acting strange, but in a worse way. After January, Sam had still obviously been hiding something, but there’s a different air to it. It’s no longer like she’s sneaking around hiding a relationship, but trying to convince everyone she’s fine. The secret phone calls have turned into moody scrolling of what Lena assumes are old texts or photos when Sam thinks she isn’t looking. The busy schedule has stopped too, replaced by Sam always asking her to hang out or go to the grocery store together. Lena’s tried to ask, but she just blames it on seasonal depression, as if Lena doesn’t know that trick. She’s still stubbornly set on letting her best friend come to her on her own, because pushing Sam in the past has gotten her nowhere. The ego bruising way she hides things from Lena with white lies is where she really feels the itch. But even she can tell her friend is heartbroken over something. Most likely someone. And after Ruby’s dad died, Lena knows not to ask until Sam starts the conversation. 

“Oh, umm,” she stumbles, giving Eve a kind smile. “Me and Ruby were going to watch Ten Things I Hate About You together tonight.” At this, Eve looks exasperated at the two of them, like they’re both going to die alone.

“How can you two not have plans?” She asks, like it’s personally depressing her. Lena thinks it probably is. “You’re both drop dead gorgeous .” 

Something sad flashes behind Sam’s eyes as she opens and closes her mouth a few times to try and find an answer. The perky blonde seems completely oblivious to it, making things worse as she just stares at her. It’s a good minute before Lena takes pity on her. Let Sam have her secret heartbreak a little longer.  

“Hey, I never said I didn’t have plans.” She hedges defensively. At this, both women swivel towards her with matching looks of confusion, Eve’s with a bit of hope, Sam’s with more than a bit of skepticism. Lena smiles, leaning back in her chair lackadaisical as she runs a finger along the edge of a stunning black invitation template with emerald emblazoned script. “I’m gonna take a long, hot bath, open a bottle of century old scotch I got from my last trip to Scotland, treat myself to a few pounds of chocolate, and who knows… might even watch a little porn.” 

Eve, who had been nodding along with her until that last part, lets out a shocked gasp. “You can’t watch porn on Valentine’s Day!” She whispers, leaning forward like she’s scared one of the other patrons will hear them. Lena and Sam both turn in their chairs to stare at her. 

“You should especially watch porn on Valentine’s Day?” Sam laughs. Lena nods in agreement. Eve sits up straight, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Ugh!” She sighs, face pinched. Lena and Sam share a telepathic look and both agree to let it go before they scare off the poor woman. “Oh! What about that doctor your mother is trying to set you up with? What’s his name? Jack?” Eve suggests, sparkle back in her eyes. 

“Oh! You should call him!” Sam agrees all too quickly. Judas. 

“Forget it.” Lena waves off. “I’m not dating someone Lilian sets me up with.” Both women look stumped, exchanging glances at that, and Lena almost relaxes. But then Sam opens her mouth.

“What about the mall girl? You said you had fun on new years.” Lena’s mind snags on the word ‘girl’ to describe Kara. On wonderful blue eyes and warm suit jacket sides. On a copper sunset light sweeping over Kara’s cheeks from the dance floor as she looks at Lena with a depth that had gotten her talking about Andrea.

“Yeah, but it was a one time thing.” Lena shrugs, hopeful that the topic will be quickly brushed aside. Sam and Eve give her unconvinced looks, and with a reluctant sigh, Lena elaborates. “She wasn’t attracted to me.” 

The effect of the words are immediate, with both women gasping in offense on her behalf.  

“What? ” Eve says, at the same time Sam asks if Kara had actually said that to her face. Lena nods along, humming as she messes with her thumb ring, mind briefly occupied with the feeling of being lifted into the air by strong arms… then dropped on her head. And then invited on another pity date in the car ride home. It still smarts a bit when she thinks too hard about it. Not a horrible re-entry to the dating game, but also not a great one. Lena Luthor is nobody’s consolation prize, not some placeholder so that said person doesn’t ‘do anything stupid’ , in her own Australian accented words.

“Well, were you attracted to her?” Eve asks, pulling Lena out of her thoughts. Her first thought is immediate. Kara is her type. But no one here needs to know that she was one sidedly attracted to her date the whole night. Her ego just can’t take it.

“No!” She balks with a laugh. It comes out a little shrill, and Lena can practically see Sam calling her bullshit. “She can’t even speak English properly, I mean her accent is thicker than jam. She says khakis like car keys .” She affects, putting on a rather bad imitation onto her words. Next to her, Sam’s smile drops, and she looks far away for a moment. Eve laughs at Lena’s mockery though, so Lena decides to move them all forward. “Look, I’m perfectly happy being single. I get to do what I want, when I want, and I don’t have to deal with all the stress of shaving, and plucking, and waxing…”

“Oh,” Sam cuts in, “Best thing about being widowed, no more waxing.” Lena briefly wonders if Kara shaves anything south of her shirt collar. 

“What about the wedding? You can’t be alone at the wedding!”

Lena gives Eve a puzzled look. “The wedding is in eight months? I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” At that, Eve and Sam exchange infuriating looks of doubt, and Lena finally reaches her boiling point. Stick a fork in her, she’s done. “Look, everyone just needs to mind their own business. My romantic life and my hygiene are completely under control. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an obscene amount of candy to buy, because I make six figures and have absolutely nothing better to spend it on than whatever the hell I want.” 

With that statement, Lena pushes back from the table and leaves the two women in the dust. 

 

*

*

*

 

The whole call had been confusing and frantic, with Alex starting it by talking a million kilometers a minute as soon as Kara had hit the accept button. The reception isn’t that good either, and it’s FaceTime, so there’s also a significant lag until Kara gets into the mall from the parking lot.

“What do you mean you wanna come to visit me in March?” Kara asks. All around her, people stampede by in the usual mall fashion. Still, it’s less crowded than when she’d been back here to return the pants last Christmas. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m stoked about having you round for visits, but… Do you even have vacation time left?” Alex has just gone through the three hottest months of the year back in Melbourne on the other side of the hemisphere, while Kara has been slugging through a Chicago winter season. Despite having her schedule doubled in the warmer months, with kids in surf school during summer holiday and the parks department getting busy, Alex still makes time to enjoy a vacation during January. She should have taken it by now. The face of her sister on the screen wavers. It looks like she’s frantically packing things into a suitcase. Alex is prone to packing weeks in advance, a leftover habit of having to travel many time zones to follow surf competitions.   

“Look, Kara, I’m sorry to spring it on you, but I just… left something unfinished, back in the states. Round new years.” Alex explains. Or, at least, tries to explain. Kara’s still confused, clutching the phone in her hand tightly.

“You’re gonna have to have a go of it, Alex. This is the first time you’ve called me in three weeks. What business did you leave in Chicago?” She asks. Alex doesn’t seem keen on giving any other details. Kara tries not to let it crush her.  

“Look, is it too much trouble to crash with you? All the hotels are booked for some reason.” Kara does the calendar math in her head. Alex’s trip would fall under the week before St Patrick’s Day. Pretty big bash, round here. Makes sense the hotels would be choker with tourists. 

Kara gives a deep sigh, pressing the top of the phone to her mouth. “Alex, I’ll let you crash with me.”

“Great! That’s real-”

“But! You’re introducing me to the woman you’re clearly in love with. Deal?” 

The camera tilts to show the ceiling, like Alex has set the phone down as she rummages around. There’s a long stretch of silence from her, punctuated by a little laugh. The whir of the fan in her room. The visible corner of her ceiling light in their childhood home. Or, Alex’s childhood home, technically. She must be back at Eliza’s picking up some warmer clothes out of the closet for the trip. Suddenly the 9,675 air miles from here to Melbourne seem achingly far. 

“Deal.” Alex says, and then, “I’m sorry I didn’t just come out with it.” There’s a relief in her voice, like she’d been holding all of it back; the truth. It hurts to think that she’d have something to hide. Kara hems and haws, kicking at the ground a bit and feeling how the rubber of her boot drags along the linoleum floor. The vibration going up her leg feels nice when she does it again. She’s not fully able to ask the next question without keeping the injury out of her voice. 

“Well, why the bloody hell didn't ya?”

Alex makes a pained noise. “I wanted to, Kara I really did. But it was delicate.” Instead of giving Alex a pass, Kara waits, and Alex continues to explain herself in her absence. “She has a kid.” Kara inhales sharply in surprise. “She’s an American. And my home… Well, you know I could never really leave here. Mom is here. Dad’s buried here. I’ve set up an entire career in the government. We weren’t sure how long we could do the distance thing, but we ended up trying. I called it quits after I had to go back home the last time. It seemed like the best outcome after getting too attached.”    

Kara blinks as she takes all that in. “Well, what changed? That doesn’t really sound like unfinished business. You two’s gave it a go and it went tits up like me and Mike?”

“She sent me a valentine saying she’d move for me.” Alex says. Kara bites down on her tongue. “I need to see her again. I need to know if it was as real as that. It’s a huge decision and I don’t want her ruining her life because of me.” 

“But?” Kara prompts.

“But, it’s worth another crack at it. For me, at least.” 

Kara considers it all, but it scrambles in her head like a fry up. Far too many thoughts for such crowded surroundings, even with the grounding sensation of her boot dragging on the floor. With a hasty goodbye to Alex with a reassurance to go for the things she deserves in life, Kara decides to put the whole thing out of her mind, popping in some noise canceling earplugs she carries in her coat pocket to avoid sensory overload. Instead of contemplating what this news with Alex would do to their family, or confronting the fact that she’s still sore over Alex effectively ignoring her for the past few weeks, she’s going to get a green juice. 

 

*

*

*

 

The candy store Lena finds herself in after stomping off has the obvious structure of a chain location. Red, pink, and white valentines colors flooded her eyes in every direction as soon as she passed the doorway. A curving set of large glass display jars line the counter, each filled with some stock of cheap gimmick candy. The one nearest her appears to be filled with those hard little sugar hearts with phrases printed on them. The one beyond it, gummy worms. Then Oreos, then jelly beans, and so on. The lights in the ceiling grid above are bright, bouncing off every white painted shelf, trim board, display and floor tile in here. Some sparkly banner that looks almost identical to the one in Annie Occasion is strung up across the back wall, declaring the holiday.   

Nothing available for sale seems to actually be made in the store. Nothing fresh, no scent of chocolate permeating the air, just pre assembled big box names like Lindor chocolate, Hershey, Canterbury and Ghirardelli. Anything not a big brand that could possibly be made in smaller batches somewhere else still have the look of being shipped in, like packages of nut brittle or chocolate truffles in unique flavors already wrapped in cellophane. There’s a small section off to the left of ‘international treats’ with things like Lion bars or Kinder eggs, nothing special, just things shipped in from Canada or the UK to be more of a novelty. Nothing special at all.  

It’s what makes it so perfect. 

A lifetime access to wealth, private chefs, and high expectations of how to use both had kept Lena pretty far away from the simple pleasures of a Snickers every now and then. After several years of therapy, leaving L-Corp, and getting her own apartment, Lena’s come to find her taste in sweets runs much more simple. She’s nearly filled a basket already with the kind of things so loaded with preservatives that they’ll stay edible for the rest of the year safely hidden away in the junk drawer of her kitchen. Without thinking too deeply, she adds an entire box of chocolate to her already bursting basket, simply because it had the word ‘Irish’ on it. Then another, because they’re bourbon truffles. In fact, Lena is so deeply disinterested in abiding by societal norms right now, that she ends up just ripping the cellophane off of those ones and starts to snack on them as she browses the shelves. 

It should have been a warning sign from the universe that she had managed to achieve a modicum of happiness in this candy store, eating her troubles in chocolate. Maybe there should have been a prickle on the back of her neck to warn her. Maybe she should have seen her before they flat out ran into each other. Because that would be fair. That would at least have given Lena a second or two to get over her initial shock. Maybe the kind thing for the cosmos to do here would be to make her aware of the sudden presence down the aisle of the person she so desperately never wanted to see again as long as she lived. But life clearly isn’t fair, or kind. Because she has no warning that the rug is about to be pulled out from under her at breakneck speed. 

“Lena?” 

With a startled look up, Lena goes from scanning the ingredients label on a bag of salted caramels to looking into the eyes of Andrea Rojas for the first time since their break up eight months ago. 

Andrea stands there, hair looking windswept and shiny. The blood red color of her cashmere sweater is sharply cut by a smart looking black pea coat she wears over top, matching her lipstick perfectly. The one Lena had bought for her. The gold hoops at her ears complement her brown skin and narrower features, further drawing everything to those eyes. 

“Andrea. How are you?” She says in her most professional tone. It’s more a reflex than an actual want for this interaction to actually happen. Like they’re old coworkers or something. It’s a bit unfit for the situation, given that Andrea had broken her heart to smithereens and had the nerve to act cool and collected right in front of her now. Andrea gives her a subtle once over, just a flick of her eyes, but it’s enough of one to make Lena want to cry. This is a nightmare, this is the worst nightmare Lena has ever lived through. Assassination attempts have nothing on this feeling. The feeling of wanting to sprint out the door just so the person in front of you won’t look at you anymore. The feeling of being pitied. 

“What are you-” But Andrea is interrupted by a shorter woman running up to them and flinging herself into Andrea’s arms. 

“Baby! You’ve got to taste this!” The shorter woman doesn’t wait for a response, popping a decadent looking sucker into Andrea’s mouth for a taste. Lena’s stomach roils in disgust. Andrea takes it in stride, spitting out the sucker with a pop and humming in agreement. “Amazing, right?!” The woman asks in almost precious melodramatics. “My tongue is having a major orgasm right now.” Lena tries not to judge other women so harshly with less than a minute of introduction, but Lena immediately knows this woman is a total moron. Without warning, she turns to Lena, still hanging off Andrea’s frame by the shoulders like some kind of teenager. “Do these come in any other flavors?” 

Andrea glances at Lena, who blinks at the two of them. “Oh, I don’t work here.” She answers. The dim witted woman blinks wide eyes at her, taking a minute to catch up, no doubt.  

“Oh!” She laughs, brunette waves cut above her shoulder swaying. “I thought you were stocking the shelves or something.” There’s a horrible moment where the three of them just awkwardly laugh. Andrea’s eyes look wild, but not necessarily apologetic. The other woman’s eyes just look genuinely amused, like she actually thinks they’re all laughing together. Idiot.   

“No, no I am not.” Lena affirms, still sort of laughing, mostly dying inside and looking for the nearest exit. 

“Oh, no, no.” Andrea finishes laughing, the ever present arm slung over the shorter woman’s shoulder tightening as she gestures to Lena with the other one. “Darling, this is Lena. We were…” There’s an awkward pause, where Andrea hesitates basted on the subtle death glare Lena sends her way over the other woman’s head. The other woman is oblivious, too busy eating the lollipop inappropriately and staring up adoringly at Andrea like a lovesick puppy. “We were lovers for a few months.” Is what Andrea finally ends up saying. Lena feels anger lash at her ribs with a birch switch, sharp and quick. Lovers? That’s what you call a year long monogamous relationship? Though, relationship and monogamous had a level of commitment to it that lovers might not, and Lena doubts Andrea reminds herself of those things, given that she was the one to cheat. 

The other woman turns to her, mouth wide with the hint of an impressed smile. “Oh, lucky you! Isn't she amazing in bed?” She implores, casting another lovey dovey look at Andrea. Andrea seems the proper mix of humble and embarrassed, waving off the other woman with a hum. “She’s like the Terminator, only I’m the one who never stops coming!” 

Lena barely has time to react to that absolutely horrendous joke, feeling her mouth make some sort of noise that might have been a dumb sounding  “Oh!” Or a mortified “Umm?!” Before someone else appears out of nowhere. This particular someone, sliding up into her personal space all smiles and sunshine, is also not someone she ever expected to see again.

“Heyyyy love muffin!” Kara of all people greets her enthusiastically, placing one hand around her shoulder while holding some green drink on the other. “I thought you were gonna meet me in Brookstone and try out those massagers?” She lies. God, how Lena had not missed that accent.  

Lena just looks at her in shock, watching as Kara barely spares her a glance before jumping right into introductions, committing to whatever scheme she’s decided to craft. Much to Lena’s horror. 

“G’day, I’m Kara!” The blonde says, reaching across the divide between the pairs to extend a hand to Andrea. “I’m Lena’s little boytoy at the moment.” Lena gets no small satisfaction at the way Andrea’s easy smile has flattered a bit as she takes Kara in. There’s a second of hesitation before Andrea grabs Kara’s offered hand, shaking it once and dropping it with a smile that’s a little tight. Kara doesn’t seem to notice the slight brush off that it is, because she’s not Lena and doesn’t know how Andrea acts when she feels defensive. Kara’s too busy shaking hands with the enthusiastic shorter woman. “I’ve been trying to nail her down long term, but she’s just such an independent woman!” As if she really is a doting potential partner, Kara playfully gestures towards Lena, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind Lena’s ear.   

Lena laughs abruptly at that, drawing herself into Kara’s side to smack at her shoulder. “Oh stop it you!” She plays along, catching Kara’s eye and trying to send her a serious look. “Seriously, stop it! Aha!” If Andrea picks up on the warning in her tone, she doesn’t notice. Instead, Andrea seems to be standing up straighter, looking at Kara intently. 

“I’m Andrea, and this,” she gestures to the shorter woman hanging off her, “is Lucy.” 

Brief recognition flashes in Kara’s eyes at the name, no doubt connecting the dots to the name of Lena’s ex. Lena watches as she draws herself up straighter, looking actually… stunned? Her mouth hangs slightly open, eyebrows raised as she looks at Lena’s ex and her presumed new girlfriend. Lena just barely resists an eye roll, the likes of which would have sprained her optic nerve in its severity. “Golly! So, you two are just… beautiful.” Kara’s eyes dart back and forth between Lucy and Andrea like she can’t believe it, glazed over like a cartoon character after getting bashed over the head with a frying pan. Lena could just strangle her.  

Andrea actually manages to look that infuriating mix of fake humility and shyness again. “Thank you.” She murmurs, hugging Lucy closer with one arm as she peers at Kara. Lena’s stomach sours again. Oh, look at me, I’m Andrea. Yes! Of course I know I’m gorgeous! But look, I’m so down to earth about it. Lucy looks Kara up and down beside Andrea, sucking on the candy in her hand and looking like she’s contemplating between climbing Kara like a tree herself or inviting her over for a threesome.  

Beside her, Lena clears her throat, and Kara’s head whips to her. 

She opens and closes her mouth for a second, plastering on that fake smile again. They stare at each other head on for the first time since Kara came bumbling in here. Lena looks deep into those energetic blue eyes that she hasn’t seen since the new year, trying to decipher what the next move is amidst the shifting in her expression. Kara doesn’t seem to pick up on anything in hers, instead just doing a sort of awkward nod in question, and suddenly Lena is now in on the hoax. “Are we done here babe?” She asks, all high and nervous. “Because I have some big… umm… plans! For you! In, umm… Victoria’s Secret!” 

It’s an absolutely pitiful delivery, but she’s worked off of worse. Lena gives the group another fake laugh to try and smooth over Kara’s terribly awkward lie, leaning into her and placing a hand on Kara’s arm as they link them at the elbow. Lena wonders briefly if Kara’s ever gotten away with anything in her life if that’s how it sounds when she tries to fabricate something on the fly. “Shall we go get the thing?”

Lena takes the out, nodding quickly as Kara nods twice as fast. “Yeah. Yes, let’s…yes.” Already starting off towards the door, arm and arm with Kara, Lena doesn’t miss how Andrea’s expression has become a bit pinched. The blonde waves to the pair behind them, who watch on with curious eyes. 

“Lovely to meet you! Seriously, all the best! Bye Lacy!” 

Lucy waves back enthusiastically, calling out, “It’s Lucy!” Before Lena and Kara are safely back in the hallway. 

The crush of the crowd swallows them whole, a now busy current of people during rush hour. They stay linked at the arms, Kara simply following along as Lena’s mindless feet take them somewhere else, somewhere far away from the candy store. Before Lena knows it they’ve fought their way through until they come to a courtyard on the main level with a water feature in the center. With a groan, Lena sits down on the cold tile edge of the fountain, letting the store basket full of candy land with a thud next to her right foot. Kara sits down next to her, fanning her face with her hands.

“Oh my god! That was horrible! I think I’m going to be sick.” Lena hears herself whine, hunching over to put her head between her knees. Her heart hammers away at the walls of her chest, a cold sweat streaking her palms. She knows this feeling, but hasn’t felt it in years. Because Lena Luthor does not lose her shit like this. She doesn’t. Can’t. Hasn’t since it was thoroughly trained out of her through the trials of facing down walls of men in board meetings. 

“It’s ok, just breathe.” Kara supplies next to her. Lena lets out another irritated noise, sitting back up to face the blonde. She wishes she was alone right now so no one could see her like this. 

“I am breathing.” She responds curtly. “What are those in your ear?” Kara winces at her. Taking the neon bits out of her ears, putting them in some kind of travel case that she slips into the chest pocket of the smooth brown leather jacket she’s wearing unzipped over a black t-shirt. “You wear a lot of leather, huh?” Lena asks mindlessly. Not waiting for a response, Lena goes back to her freak out, waving her hands to shake out the energy. 

“Here! Have a sip of this.” Kara suggests, offering her drink. Lena doesn’t think as she grabs it for a sip. Anything to distract her senses from reliving the feeling of running into Andrea over and over again in her head. Anything to compose herself in front of another person. The second the taste of it hits her tongue however, her stomach pitches dangerously with more than just nerves.

“Ack!” She coughs. It’s bitter and grassy, like someone’s just chucked every health nut buzzword vegetable into a blender and dumped the result into a to-go cup. If Lilian could see her now, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and shoving the drink back at Kara with a scowl, she’d have fits about how unladylike the whole action was. “Now I’m positive I’m going to be sick.”

Kara, for her part, looks slightly offended. “This is green juice! It’s good for you, Lena! You know, you can make it to one hundred and twenty, but only if you take care of yourself.” 

Lena waves her off. “You sound like an influencer. It’s all downhill after forty. Who would want an extra eighty years of the worst time of your life?” Even she can admit she’s getting a little bitter in tone, but it still doesn’t warrant Kara’s joke.

“Well, if you’ve got a Lucy in your life…?” All that gets the blonde is a glare. “Sorry, that was a low blow.”

Lena frowns at her, biting her tongue for a minute. The calming sound of the water behind them centers her for a minute or two, and while absolutely vile, the taste of the drink had been so shocking that it seems to have knocked Lena back in gear. It brings up the memory of a technique one of her past therapists had encouraged her to try when she sensed an oncoming panic attack but didn’t have time to process it between back to back meetings as temporary CEO before Lex stepped in. Kara seems content on letting her have a grounding moment, leaning back on her hands to look up at the high windows a few stories above them. Lena takes the chance to look over while Kara is distracted. The weak sunlight from the overcast day filtering through the mall’s ceiling seems to make its way down until it lights up the prominent features on Kara’s face. Her blonde hair is tied back in the same ponytail it had been in when they first met, black rimmed glasses catching the light as they sit perched on her nose. By all accounts, Kara doesn’t look much different than she had two months ago.

“They were ear plugs, by the way.” Kara says, gesturing to her ears. Lena looks at her, confused, before Kara taps indicatively at the bump in her jacket pocket. “Noises in busy spaces get a bit much for me sometimes. They help.” 

“Good to know.” Lena says. Then, to get some of the attention off of herself, she carries on the conversation. “How have you been, Kara?” 

“Alright like a crocodile in a bit o’ mud.” Kara says with a shrug, putting a little extra down under emphasis on the idiom and spinning to kick her long legs up onto the fountain edge to sit crisscross facing her. Lena tries not to, but it’s such a Kara move that she isn’t able to stop a smile from cracking her face. “But, probably not as good as you, huh? Quite the situation I interrupted. I seem to remember something about your date with a lolly shop?” A flash of those nice teeth Lena remembers so well. 

Lena huffs out a sardonic laugh, running her hand through her hair and finally feeling a bit like herself again. “Well, at least I got this out of-” But Lena stops short, gazing down at the basket by her feet as the small smile is quickly replaced by a stricken look. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“Kara, I stole this!” Lena whispers with a hiss, pulling the store basket off the ground to sit in her lap. Beside her, the look of concern on Kara’s face twists into one of mirth. Blue eyes dance with more sparkles. Both of her large hands come up to cover her smiling mouth and stifle a chuckle. “Laugh all you want, but I am not going back there.” Lena swears, casting a wayward glance at the direction they came. “We might as well destroy the evidence.” And with a quick grab, Lena’s tearing off the wrapping on a box of chocolate, grabbing the first piece and shoving it in a panic at Kara.

Kara defensively bats her hand away, dropping her feet back down to the floor. “No way, I don’t eat that crap.” The blonde denies, leaning towards Lena with a hand on her own chest. “I’m a professional athlete.” Lena scoffs, thinking back to their date at Skyfall when Kara had taken down an entire tray of potstickers right when they had gotten into the venue. 

“Oh please, it’s not like golf is known for its high level of athleticism.” Lena teases. “It’s a sport for retirees and men with way too much money.”

Apparently those are fighting words, because Kara puffs up in an adorable way that has Lena biting back another smile. “I’ll have you know that golf requires more precise muscle movements than football and basketball combined!” 

Lena thinks about what it felt like to be completely lifted over Kara’s head and held there, feeling as muscles trembled beneath her. Watching as Kara’s strong thighs had almost popped a seam on her dress pants when they sat down in a booth. “Right.” Lena nods distractedly, hurriedly putting away those thoughts as she picks through the box at all the little chocolates. Heat blooms on the back of her neck anyway. “And that’s why you all have little tiny carts to take you up and down the court.” Beside her, Kara pouts comically, shoulders slumping. “Come on, don’t be a coward.” Lena goads, selecting another chocolate and poking it at the Australian’s mouth. 

Kara bats her hand away again, a new fire in her eyes with a mischievous smile to match. Lena’s stomach flips at the sight of it. “Well, if I wasn’t so much of a coward, you’d still be stuck back there in that shop talking to your ex girlfriend and her smoking hot new girlfriend.” Kara reminds, putting unnecessary emphasis on the word ‘smoking’ by throwing her head back in an enthusiastic nod. Lena faces her, mouth fixed into a firm line of displeasure. Still, credit where credit is due.

“Fine.” She hears herself grit out. “Thank you, Kara Danvers. You are my hero. I owe you one.” It’s not completely delivered without the bite of sarcasm, but Kara doesn’t seem to care, giving her a bright smile as she smacks her thighs to stand up. 

“Thank you.” She says as Lena stands to join her. “That’s better.” The twinge of her accent makes the word sound like betta , so Kara next joke throws Lena for a loop. “Now, I’ll take my handjob in the parking lot.” 

Lena rolls her eyes. “A handjob? What are you, twelve?” Kara raises an eyebrow at her.

“You gave handjobs at twelve?” She asks, already starting to walk away with an infuriatingly smug smile. Lena feels her face heat up.

It’s not often someone leaves her temporarily speechless, but it doesn’t last long as Lena stomps after the blonde, debating whether or not to take a swing at her head with the candy basket.  

 

*

*

*

 

Many factors had led Kara to the eventual ownership of a 1987 Jeep Grand Wagoneer. 

She had avoided getting a car for as long as she could, since she hadn’t needed one at uni and it would have just been a hassle to own one if she got deported back to Oz before her citizenship was approved. The age of the car would definitely turn most people off, and Alex had tried to talk her out of it, but the appeal of driving something vintage was yet another reason Kara had wanted it so badly. The wooden panels on its boxy sides and outdated cassette tape radio system had the warm fuzzies of a time long forgotten whenever she took a drive to clear her head.  

The features of the model were obviously attractive to her. The wide trunk made transporting all her golf clubs easier. The acres of glass windows provided excellent visibility, especially for someone who never fully got used to driving on the right side of the road after learning to drive out in the bush in Australia. Further, it’s ability to go from a form of transportation in high density urban areas to an adventure vehicle that could take her out of the city for a camping trip once every four months or so was just as attractive to her as it probably was for the families it was marketed to when the model was first rolling off of factory lines. She was hooked at first look at the model on Craigslist. 

But the largest factor for buying a fixer upper besides need for a car had been a particularly strong bout of homesickness after her initial move to Chicago had fallen on the anniversary of her foster father’s death. She couldn’t make it back to see the Danvers, since she started her first coaching position at an indoor golf club just outside the city the following Monday. They couldn’t come help her move into her new apartment, immobilized in their own grief. Her foster father, Jeremiah Danvers, had only been able to bond with a grief stricken teenage Kara in one major way; through his auto mechanic hobby. It was mostly just tinkering here and there, but one summer they had rebuilt the entire engine of a vintage Toyota land cruiser. 

So there she had been. New job, new city, no Alex, yawning chasm of grief in her chest, but with one unfamiliar vintage car she bought broken down out of someone’s storage unit. It hadn’t come without challenges. She had kept it up on a lift in a client's spare garage for almost a year in exchange for free golf lessons as she worked on it. Thousands of dollars poured down the drain, major setbacks trying to secure rare parts, learning a bit about everything there’s to know about auto repair, and more ruined shirts from oil stains than she could count, Kara had a piece of history up and running. The only thing she couldn't successfully restore or modify had been the engine, which gas mileage had been too poor for her to justify keeping. So she had dropped in a newer one from 2008.

After added embellishments of the Australian flag sticker on the rear window, a ‘NO MULLIGANS’ bumper sticker, and a custom license plate that read ‘GRIPNRIP’, Kara’s love for golf was added to the character of the car. But as much fun as it had been to fix it up, Kara much prefers the fun she has inside it doing other things. Like what she and Lena are doing now.

Kara groans, tipping her head back to hit the headrest of the driver’s seat. “Oh my god, it’s so good.” 

Beside her, Lena laughs smugly. “Is that enough, or do you want more?” She asks, reaching over the center console. 

“More .” Kara demands. Lena exhales sharply through her nose while Kara lets out another pleased hum.

“Stop moving, I’m almost done.” She orders, hand moving faster. 

“Oh my god,” Is all Kara manages to say in response. A squirm of her leg sends the open chocolate box in her lap slipping off her knee towards the floor of the car before Lena catches it. 

“I wasn’t done grabbing the ones I wanted out of that one!” Lena laughs, slipping one of the many open boxes of chocolate in Kara’s lap onto the center console to pick through.        

“This chocolate is so good. You weren’t kidding!” Kara talks through the many pieces of candy in her mouth, adding another as she chews. “You’re a bad influence!”

“No, I’m not.” Lena denies with a roll of those green eyes. “One box isn’t going to kill you Kara. Lighten up.” Kara just smiles at her, digging around for another chocolate in the box open on her hip. This might have just been a good idea after all.   

“I’m going to spend the rest of the day eating these if I’m not careful. I was supposed to go to the gym later.” Kara argues. She’d had a particularly grueling session planned for arms, but with all this sugar she might as well do some cardio or she’ll never be able to sleep tonight. 

“What, like you’ll die if you don’t make it to the gym today?” Lena laughs. Kara’s really starting to like the sound of that. Lena’s laugh. The American doesn’t look much different from when they last saw each other, besides being in more casual clothes now. They still look high quality, which isn’t surprising, given who Kara now knows she is. After a long time of playing golf with people in higher tax brackets, Kara has come to know money when she sees it. 

“I’d say the gym is pretty important to me, yeah.” Kara says around the half chewed cluster in her mouth. The remains of something with nougat keeps sticking her back teeth together every time she bites down, and Kara worries at it with the tip of her tongue. She takes Lena in as she chews, her side profile still as striking as when she last saw her. To keep from asking a million questions, Kara traces the logo on the center of the steering wheel.    

“How many muscles does one person need?” The question is supposed to be a light rib, but it hits Kara wrong. Lena must not realize it’s a delicate subject, since one look over drops her smile a bit. Kara takes time to swallow before talking again. Her mind flashes to the workout she’d written down this morning. Something to help her arms and upper body get a nice pump to alleviate some of the gender dysphoria she’d been experiencing lately, as well as improve her swing. She’d rather they not be talking about this when they could be talking about why Lena hadn’t just called her if she didn’t have any other plans today.  “Enough to combat gender dysphoria.” She mentions lightly, not sure how it’ll land. Next to her, Lena pauses, looking like she’s mulling something over. 

“Have you ever thought about taking testosterone?” Lena asks curiously, as if she’s spoken before fully thinking out how that question might be received. It seems this isn’t a new thing for Lena, Kara has observed in their brief times together. That is, having words just fall out of her mouth like the curiosity behind them distracts her from politeness. Cute. Another little cut at the armor. Kara hums at the million dollar question.

“I can’t. I’m a professional athlete.” Is the muttered side step of an answer. The finger tracing the steering wheel goes faster. Back and forth, back and forth. The familiar bumps and texture of the steering wheel help ground her. Her sensory issues really haven’t been kind this week. Maybe it was the stress leading up to the holiday that Kara had been feeling without really processing it. A deep breath in has Kara sliding her eyes closed, counting all the scents in her car, seeing what new things butt up against the familiar smell of the interior cleaner and leather conditioner. New things like Lena’s perfume, and the chocolates.  

Beside her, the effect of the clumsy question on her must catch up to Lena. “Oh. Right.” Is all the answer she gives, usual confidence in her voice wavering. Kara blows air out her lips, trying to ignore how suddenly awkward it is. A look over shows a pretty pink blush has reddened the tips of Lena’s ears. Yet another intriguing detail to file away for later.  

For a second, Kara is quite amused by being the one to throw Lena off balance yet again. It had been a lot of fun to nettle during their date. The woman opens and closes her mouth a bit, seeming not to know how to navigate a sudden conversation shift like this. In the entirety of their date, even though they’d gotten a little below the surface, both of them hadn’t traversed into the topic of Kara’s gender expression. Not really Kara’s go to topic for a bash like Skyfall. 

“I mean, does golf have the same rules as-”

“Lena,” Kara says with a light laugh, giving the poor woman an out while also shutting down the direction of the conversation, “may we talk about something else?”

Lena nods gracefully, turning to face forward as she valiantly tries to look calm and collected, endearing Kara ever further. “Sure, Dundee. What’s on your mind?” That earns a laugh from Kara, but she sobers quickly. Time to cut to the meat of it.

“So, it sucked running into your girlfriend at a candy store, on Valentines day, in pajamas. Right?”

Lena narrows her eyes at that, inclining her head like a regal looking queen. Back to her usual carefully crafted facade, this one. Kara would definitely put that face on a fiver. 

“Ex girlfriend.” She corrects mildly, then a little indignantly, “these are lounge pants.” Kara just stares, waiting for Lena to give up the goat. It takes a minute, but suddenly it's there in the set of her shoulders. A softening. It’s in the way Lena reaches up to rub at the stress lines her brow with slender fingers. The way the rigid posture that has her sitting so upright that her back doesn’t touch the seat lets lose enough for her spine to conform to the shape of it. Kara had only seen that one other time, in the booth at Skyfall. Figures it's a good thing. “Yeah.” She finally says into the still air between them, sounding small. “It had kinda sucked. Believe it or not, it’s not the worst Valentine's day I’ve had.”

Kara’s heart tugs at that. “Why didn’t you just… call me?” She asks. Lena’s mouth thins.

“I don’t know.” She huffs, green eyes looking out the windshield instead of back to Kara. “I guess I was just… embarrassed to admit that nothing had changed since New Years.” And yeah, Kara can totally understand that. “You didn’t have plans either, huh?” Lena prods, finally looking over at her again. Kara shakes her head, since all she really was planning on doing today was going to the gym, then maybe the driving range to work out the soreness that was sure to follow one of her more intense workouts. She’s not very kind to herself there sometimes, when other things become a bit too much to handle in other departments.  

“Isn’t that the whole idea behind this holidate thing? That we avoid all the stupid pressure and judgements?” Lena opens her mouth, probably to offer an immediate denial of where this is going, but Kara excitedly starts a ramble. “Whatever, okay, listen. The biggies are behind us at least. Christmas, New Years, Valentines day, that's definitely what gets the most attention when you’re single. But I’m warning you, the small ones are just as dangerous.” 

Lena raises an unimpressed eyebrow at that, and Kara smiles sheepishly. 

“I once spent an Earth Day chained to a tree with a chick from Greenpeace.” At this, Lena throws her head back laughing before reaching over to smack Kara on the shoulder. “It’s true! I swear!” Kara laughs, unable to fight the contagiousness of Lena’s amusement. “Longest ten days of my life.” 

After a second or two, Lena and her settle back down, laughter drawing back to the occasional hum. Kara is under no illusion that she’s managed to convince Lena of another holidate, so it comes as a total shocker to her when Lena quietly speaks again, sounding thoughtful. 

“It would be nice to bring someone home for Easter.” 

In her chest, her heart beats faster at the mere possibility of seeing Lena again after this. “So, let’s make it official.” How lucky would she be if she got to enjoy Lena’s company for the next few holidays? Maybe then they’d stop making her feel so alone. So, after wiping her hand off on her pants, she extends it towards Lena for a shake. “Holidates until further notice?” 

They aren’t really friends, but Kara very much thinks they could be. Lena is awesome. Smart, beautiful, funny, interesting… the list goes on. Kara would do anything for her friends, including helping them deal with some of the bullshit that she also deals with. Who’s to say single people can’t just help each other out with things like this?

Green eyes narrow in suspicion at the offered hand. “What about sex?” Lena asks bluntly. 

Kara feels her face go a little numb and tingly. “Well, umm, uh. If you’re offering I could f-fold the back seats down?” She stammers. Lena rolls her eyes, thinking it’s a joke.

“I’m serious. Friends with benefits never work.” Lena asserts. Kara fights off a dopey smile. So we are friends? It takes a few seconds for her brain to work though.

“Okay, how about this, non-sexual holidates from now on?” Kara wagers. She's lucky her tongue works well enough to form the words with how suddenly her mouth had gone dry just then when she thought Lena was propositioning her. There’s a brief hesitation on Lena’s end, enough time for Kara to fantasize about a fake scenario where Lena suddenly changes her mind and negotiates some kind of sexual aspect of the deal, but then a soft but firm hand grips hers, shaking once. 

“Deal. Now give me one of those coconut clusters.” 

Mates it is, Kara supposes. Not without a significant wave of disappointment though. 

 

*

*

*

            

By the time she gets home, Lena’s convinced herself that making the deal with Kara was probably the worst idea she has ever had. But after a few hours, when she’s had something to eat besides sugary junk, and downed a full glass of water with her feet up, things start to look more optimistic. Kara’s private phone number now in her cell and plans to meet up for St. Patricks day loosely being hammered out. She plays the moment back in her head, every detail vivid. The smell of some kind of cleaner scenting the car. Kara’s bright smile and sharp attention to her. The smell of some kind of cologne she probably uses. Both of them assuring that this deal won’t be going into some kind of… physical territory. 

All things considered, once the initial worry faded away, the feeling left was actually quite pleasant. Lena had accomplished what she set out to do, even if running into Kara had initially been an accident. This won’t only get Sam off her back about dating, but it sure as hell will have the added bonus of pissing off Lilian. That alone is enough to celebrate. With Kara helping her out, she can finally keep her focus on other things in her life. In the long run, Kara might not be bad to have around for company. They’d gotten along well enough up to this point, and they’re both benefiting from this situation. Lena gets some freedom from other people trying to butt into her life, and Kara gets to not be alone during the holidays while still keeping things casual. Win win. 

Lena thinks about how she left Annie Occasion early and admittedly starts to feel a little curious about how it went after she ditched. Sam hadn’t ended up texting her for the rest of the day, probably wanting to focus on her movie with Ruby. To make up for not staying to help, she calls the store to check on Eve’s wedding invitation order. Maybe Eve made a decision about which invitations to go with, and there’s a fee she can waive or some kind of detail she can smooth out to make things go well for her brother’s fiancée.

The store clerk answers after two rings, stonewalling her questions about the order until she mentions who she’s calling on behalf of. When the employee hears the name Eve Teschmacher, they stumble over themselves to provide perfect customer service. No doubt because they saw the price tag on Eve’s order and connected the dots in their mind between the price of the order and the household name’s heiress filed on the billing statements. 

“Ah, yes, right here! It says both your friend’s orders were sent into the system.” The bright voice chirps at her from the other line.

Lena blinks, phone pressed to her ear. “I’m sorry, could we confirm the items in both orders again? I just want to make sure everything gets where it needs to be. You know how big weddings are.” It’s wrong to spy. She should just thank them and hang up. 

“The letter sent by Miss Samantha Arias, and the wedding invitations for Miss Teschmacher?” They ask. She really shouldn’t pry. If Sam was sending out a letter, it’s probably private. But when has privacy meant anything to Sam over the last four months? Luthor curiosity wins out.

“Yes.” Lena says quickly. 

“Don’t worry, your friend’s letter was sent a week early so it would get there on time today. Lena mutes her side of the call long enough to stare straight ahead into space, letting out a quick, what the fuck? Before unmuting.

“Can I confirm the address with you really quick? Just want to make sure our records match.” Lena lies, fingers now nervously drumming on her thigh. The big ticket number for the store and the authority in Lena’s voice must make the employee forget policy on sharing details over the phone, because they rattle off the addresses for Eve’s first wave of invitations as well as;   

“2015 Wacambee Street, Melbourne, Australia.” Lena mutes the call again, letting out a slow breath. Without saying a proper goodbye, Lena jabs at the screen to disconnect the call. 

What the fuck is Sam doing mailing someone in Australia on valentines day? 

Notes:

The plot is plotting... a deal is struck... hope you all liked it! And yes, I did spend an entire morning researching the restoration process of a Jeep 1987 grand wagoneer. There's a pretty interesting article written for InsideHook by Benjamin Hunting detailing exactly how he bought his and restored it over the process of a year by dropping in a totally different engine in the midst of pandemic related struggles. Go give it a read if you're at all interested in the kind of car Aussie Kara drives. I highly recommend it!

Chapter 5

Notes:

Here we go with a short-ish chapter! Hope you guys like it :)

There’s heaps of things about America that Kara’s always found strange yet fascinating. It’s huge. They have a whole season where tornados just rock up on ya. Everyone here is so used to seeing squirrels. Bears. Moose. Cowboy hats, which they do have in Oz, but not worn as passionately. Earthquakes. The game of cornhole, where you have to toss little bean bags onto a board with a hole in it from across your yard. As a pro golfer, Kara can appreciate the simplicity in that kind of sport. A serious lack of good beer. Kara’s careful with that last opinion though, since it’s usually fighting words. 

But above all, despite their beer and the squirrels, the yanks know how to party.   

Kara still remembers her very first St. Patrick’s day in Chicago; a rare sunny day in March. Winn, a born and bred Chicago native and one of the few people she knew when she first moved there, had woken her early to go watch the Chicago plumber union dye the Chicago river its trademark green from the bridge. Kara had been fascinated, and a little worried about the environment until Winn explained the dye was made from vegetable proteins. The sun peeking over the taller skyscrapers made the river look even more green as it flowed through the city. It reminded Kara of a lush golf course green carving itself through the landscape. She could practically feel the weight of a niner in her hand, ready to swing. Sense the phantom way the tread of her golf shoes sink into the field the day after it rains. Smell that loamy scent that hits her nose when a chunk of the grass comes up after a heavy swing. 

She had then proceeded to get so pissed at the bars with Winn that night that she hadn’t been able to make it to the dunny in time to stop herself from chundering all over his living room when they came home to crash. That hadn’t been one of the better ones. But now, after picking up Alex and Winn at O’Hare International yesterday, waiting now to take them out celebrating at a bar with Lena, she can’t wait for this year’s St Patrick's day. It’s going to be the best one yet. 

“So, explain this whole holidate thing again?” Winn says from the backseat. Kara opens her mouth to answer her best friend, but Alex beats her to it. 

“Basically, Kara’s got herself into another impossible dating situation that is just begging to blow up in her face.” Is the dry answer. Kara spares her a dirty look before making a lane change. As if Alex is one to talk about impossible dating situations. She knows her sister is just upset that she hasn’t gotten to see her American woman in person yet since touching down the day before. Alex had wanted to see her as soon as possible after their phone call, but Kara had already made these plans with Lena and her group of friends. Since Kara was tired of being left out of Alex’s big life stuff, and Alex had promised to introduce them, she had decided to wait till the day after today for the three of them to meet up. As usual, jetlag had hammered her sister into the astral plane for the first twenty four hours. Alex had decided to tag along with her and Winn to meet Lena. In the rear view, Winn makes a face, rubbing at his temples with both hands like he does when encountering a particularly challenging IT problem at work. 

“I’m fine, Winn. Alex is just taking the piss and having a winge like always. I’m seeing this woman during the holidays. Her name is Lena. She’s real nice.” Kara assures, making another smooth left turn through an intersection and admiring the way the steering wheel of her car slides through her fingers. 

“Oh…” Is all Winn says from the backseat. “Only holidays? That’s kinda weird. Wait, oh my god, is she paying you? ” A glance in the rearview mirror shows his scandalized expression. 

“What? No! Winn, she is not paying me. It’s not like that.” And Kara could almost feel a bit sore at the implication that Lena would have to pay someone for dates. 

“It’s gonna go cactus on ya.” Alex mutters beside her.  

“As dandy as it is seeing you two agree on something,” Kara interrupts their dual assault on her choices, “it’s giving me the spooks. Yes Winn, only holidays. It’s nice. I’m helping her out, she’s helping me out. I’m keeping her family off her back about finding some bloke to date, and she’s very fun to hang with. Win win, Winn.” 

Winn laughs to himself, undoing the top snap of his green button up as he leans back into the seat. “Jesus Kara. Only you would arrange a long term commitment with no actual commitment.”

Alex laughs at that, and so does Winn, and something in Kara’s chest twists. 

She knows it was a joke. But the implication of it has her feeling burned in a deep place. 

Because all of the sudden, Mike’s final text to her replays in her mind. ‘Sorry, I just can’t. Have a good life Kara, I wish you the best.’ How it felt like getting a gut hook dragged through her chest to read it. The image of his toothbrush in their bathroom that he hadn’t bothered to take with him, and Kara chucking it so hard into the bin the damn thing had bounced right out and left a little ding on the wall. His shoes by the door. They’d used to take turns making dinner, filling the house with nice smells and warm air. Kara had only had the heart to heat up pasta for ten days after the break up. Their passports filed together in the desk, Mike’s single Canadian one next to Kara’s two; her American passport held to her Australian one with a worn rubber band. The images of the before and the after, flooding in as she tries to drive down the Chicago street with her two favorite people. 

She’s had commitment once. Had someone who was supposed to be around forever. It hadn’t lasted. It hadn’t been her fault, either. They just hadn’t worked out. Why it’s suddenly ok to joke about it doesn’t really click with Kara.  

Thankfully, Alex doesn’t seem to notice that she spends the rest of the car ride in silence, that feeling stuck just under her ribs.         

 

*

*

*

 

The bar is loud and crowded, which normally sets Lena’s teeth on edge, but today it feels safe to dissolve into the ebb and flow of people celebrating all around her. They’re all too busy drinking to recognize her, decked out in green paraphernalia and having a good time as Irish music plays from overhead. The location, Sam’s favorite bar near the riverfront, is on the St Patrick’s day theme. Green tinsel is strung up on every wall and wound around the table legs, making them look like fuzzy caterpillars reaching up from the floor. A neon shamrock made of rope lights hangs above Sam, as well as on every wall and behind the bar. The far wall has been turned into an impromptu St Patrick’s day photo booth, with a green streamer background and a small table full of those goofy holiday headbands for people to take photos with. A man walks by their table wearing a plastic fedora covered in metallic green paint, complementing Sam’s green wig and Lena’s ‘kiss me, I’m Irish’ shirt. Sam sips at her green beer. Lena traces little swirls in the frost covering the glass of her drunk Leprechaun, some blended frozen cocktail off the bar’s holliday menu. It’s minty with a gold dusted salt rim. Lena doesn’t mind it. 

Her phone buzzes with a text from Kara, briefly explaining that they’re circling and trying to find parking before walking over. She tells Sam as much.

“This is that girl from the mall?” She asks, taking a sip of her beer and wiping the foam off her mouth with her thumb. Lena hums.

“Kara’s nonbinary. She’s the person from the mall.” She corrects mildly. For some reason, Lena can’t quite look at her friend when she says it, taking a sip from her own drink, tongue flicking out to lick at the salt rim. She wonders if she had the right just then to correct Sam, thus outing Kara. She’ll have to have a private talk with Kara and ask about future situations. 

“Oh. Okay. Does Kara use she and her?” Sam asks. 

“That’s how she introduced herself to me, yeah.” Lena confirms. 

“Lena!” Someone calls out. Lena looks up in alarm at being called out for in public, that little trauma response she just can’t seem to shake, but the sight of Kara making her way through the crowded bar waving at her enthusiastically while bumping into people stills her suddenly racing heart. Lena figures the text from Kara about circling just sent late. Her holidate looks good in a gray golf shirt and slacks, a collection of green plastic beads around her neck matching the glittering plastic shamrock fedora on her head.    

The sharp crystals of salt dissolve in her mouth with the drink, and the molecular structures run through her brain absentmindedly as Kara gets closer, looking just as good as she always does in anything remotely form fitting. Sodium Chloride into just Sodium, and just Chloride. Whatever the edible glitter is made out of follows next, probably sugar and cornstarch, a preservative to shelf stabilize it.     

The bar had been Lena’s idea, as had bringing friends. A nonmajor holiday felt like a good time to introduce all involved parties early before big hitters down the line. Which is why Kara offers the quick explanation of, “My sister and Winn are at the bar getting a round,” as she leans in to give Lena a quick peck on the cheek in greeting. “Gooday, I’m Kara! You must be Sam.” Kara turns enthusiastically to Sam, extending a hand for a shake with a bright smile. Sam gives Lena a quick side eye of surprise, probably realizing Lena hadn’t been exaggerating about the caliber of Kara’s Aussie accent, grabbing the blonde’s hand in a firm shake.

“Kara! It’s so nice to meet you. Love the hat.” Her best friend greets back, slipping into her charming charisma like a silk robe. Kara nods at that, smile growing wider as she reaches up to fiddle with her glasses. 

“Gonna grab a pint and let ‘em know where we’re sitting. Golly, it’s chock a block in here. Need another?” Kara asks, eyeing Lena’s nearly empty glass as she gestures over her shoulder towards the bar. 

“God, yes please.” Lena nods. With a swish of blonde hair, Kara’s disappeared again, and Sam digs her nails into Lena’s arm in an excited grip. Ever so patiently, and now deeply appreciative of the next drink Kara’s bringing her, Lena turns to Sam.  

“Is that her? Because she is cute Lena. Like, your exact type of cute. It’s almost scary.”

“Oh, come on.” Lena waves off weakly, trying to straighten her posture.

“She’s an Amazon! Your type is tall, athletic, accented, and neat.” Sam sputters, putting up a finger and counting off attributes on them as she lists them. 

“Okay, yeah, whatever.” Lena shushes, hoping Sam’s done with whatever this is before Kara and her guests get back. 

“Wait, so, what’s the deal?” Sam asks, looking puzzled. “Is it like friends with benefits?” 

Lena shakes her head. “No. No benefits.” She denies. Sam looks hardly convinced, so Lena elaborates. “We’re hardly even friends. We haven’t really talked in a month or so, just to plan this get together.” 

“Wait, then what’s the point?” Sam frowns at her. Lena rolls her eyes, shoving Sam playfully in the arm.

“The point is that I’m here with someone! I’m having fun. Being social. That, and you aren’t parading me around the bar pushing me off on anyone who even looks single.”

Sam winces, taking a quick sip of her beer. “Speaking of; if you get a text from a random number, his name is Leroy. He’s a bouncer.” 

Lena’s about to give her friend what for, but suddenly Kara is back with drinks and two new people.

“Here you are!” Kara greets cheerfully, setting down Lena’s drink next to her and easily siding up next to them.

“Thanks.” Lena nods, picking it up off the bar top and setting it rightly onto the coaster. Kara gets to introductions. The first person they’re introduced to is a kind looking white guy with rich brown eyes, generic but handsome features, thick hair, and a cleft chin. He’s a little shorter than Kara. Lena’s seen enough of them to know a tech nerd when she’s seen one, so it’s not a surprise when Kara briefly explains she’d met him when he was in IT training a few years back. He’s dressed in a green checkered button up and jeans, holding a bottle of some local IPA as he smiles wide. A star of david necklace glints in the light as he tucks it back underneath his shirt. Kara introduces him as Winn. 

“And this is- Hey, get over here!” Kara turns, dragging her second guest gently by the elbow into the little makeshift circle of introductions. The other person shuffles forward, looking a bit neutral about being in public, maybe a little shy. This must be Kara’s older sister. She stands almost at Kara’s height, skin tanned and freckled like someone who’s from a sunnier continent. A green O’neill surf shirt falls over her athletic frame, paired with performance sweatpants; the kind for running, not lazing comfortably around the couch like Lena’s are. An impressive water sport style watch sits on her wrist, the kind with more than one dial and a little wave pixel graphic going over the top of the face, no doubt reporting the surf from some beach in Australia. Her build is muscular in a cardio focused way, punctuated by excellent posture. Swimmers build. 

Lena can’t quite put her finger on it, but something about this woman looks very familiar. Burningly so. Perhaps it’s the way her short haircut falls to the side, like a 90s Johnny Depp. Or maybe it’s the way she shuffles forward. It’s only when she finally turns to introduce herself and Lena gets a clear look at her face, and that intensely serious expression, does her mouth fall open at her vaguely familiar features.

“This is my sister, Alex-”

“Your sister is Alex Danvers?!” Lena interrupts her, looking between the two. Kara blinks at her before a petulant look flashes over her features. “You’re Alex Danvers?” Lena asks the woman directly. Alex, who hasn’t even had a chance to introduce herself, looks a bit sheepish all of the sudden. 

“G’day.” She chokes out. “Nice of you to have us ‘round for the bash.” Same thick accent as Kara, and that confirms it for Lena. Suddenly the whole outdoor enthusiast outfit makes sense. Kara’s sister is none other than former pro surfer Alex Danvers, holder of several high titles from the big wave competitions on the west coast, as well as some of the major ones in Australia. Which she only knows, because Sam has had a massive crush on her since their teenage years, and has been occasionally sending her article updates on her career for the last five years or so. That’s why she had recognized Alex’s haircut, she’d seen it soaking wet on a poster on Sam’s bedroom wall when they were freshmans in college.     

Next to her, Sam spits her next sip of green colored beer clean out of her mouth, a hacking cough following. Lightning quick and with reddening cheeks, Sam rips the ridiculous wig off her head and begins smoothing her hair over with her hands, laughing loudly. It’s the most obvious and ungraceful she has ever seen Sam act in their lives. Lena gives an incredulous look over at her friend, clearly losing her shit as she avidly avoids Lena’s eyes. A glance back to Alex shows that she’s staring at Sam, slack jawed and mute as the tips of her ears turn red, posture going even more straight as she eyes Sam up and down. 

“G’day Sam.” Alex greets, looking more than a bit pleasantly surprised now that she’s recovered from her shock. 

“Alex. Hey. I thought you wouldn’t be in till next week?” 

Lena’s teeth grind on the straw of her drink, doing the math in her head. Winn, for his part, stands forgettable off to the side, watching as Alex and Sam, who for some unexplained reason clearly know each other, awkwardly avoid each other’s eyes. 

“Kara,” Lena says suddenly, “Follow me for a second. I want to show you the special drink menu.”

Kara, who’d been busy offering Sam a napkin to cough into and giving Alex a weird look, whips her head to look at Lena confused. 

“That’s ok, I saw it earlier.” She says, oblivious. Lena could just kill this blonde idiot. Lena sets her second drunk Leprechaun back onto the table with a sharp smack that would have cracked the glass if she wasn’t careful. 

“I’m sure you didn’t see all of it.” Lena argues, grabbing the hem of Kara’s shirt and tugging it until they’re up and out of the seat. “Alex, Winn, great to meet you two. Be right back.” 

“Okay! Woah!” Kara remarks, going along with it. She lets Lena pull her along in a fluid, trusting kind of motion, grabbing an empty glass off the bar top as they make their way into the crowd. They’re halfway to the front of the bar and lost in the swarm of people before Lena changes their direction so that they head to the bathrooms. Kara switches the empty beer glass to her other hand and slips her cold, wet fingers into Lena’s palm, grabbing gently so that they don’t get separated. It’s louder here than the Skyfall party had been, and Lena wonders briefly why Kara hasn’t put in her sensory earplugs like she’d been wearing on Valentines day. Lena certainly wishes she had a pair right now.   

“Kara, please tell me you’re aware that your sister and my best friend did not just meet for the first time.” Lena pleads point blank when they reach the open space near the front of the bathrooms. Kara, who’s name means beloved but should rightly mean oblivious, gives her a puzzled look.

“Er, wha’d’ya mean?” She asks, casting a glance over to the side of the bar that they’d just come from. Lena pinches the bridge of her nose and prays for patience. 

“Is your sister’s address 2015 Wacambee Street in Melbourne?” Lena asks loudly over the buzz all around them. Kara’s eyes widen like saucers.

“How’d you know that?” She asks with a nervous laugh, eyeing Lena suspiciously now. A spark of righteous indignation alights in Lena’s chest about being right off the cusp.

“That’s the address that my friend Sam sent a valentine to last month. They’re clearly seeing each other for the first time since I assumed they called it quits, and we just stepped in it.” She explains. Kara’s eyes dart back and forth from Lena to the other side of the bar, little gears turning in her head.

“That could explain why your friend was acting all devo about some kind of break up. I think you mentioned that when we saw each other last? Alex was acting the same way.” Kara half shouts down at her. 

Lena blinks at Kara. “Wait, then what is she doing here? From how Sam’s been, it seemed pretty final.” Kara waves this assumption off, however.

“Last time I asked, she said they were gonna give it another go! Or,” She hesitates, correcting herself with a held up finger, “Alex said she was gonna give it another go. To see if Sam was serious enough to move.” Lena’s world spins at that implication, but she manages a nod at that, pressing the tip of her tongue up against the back of her front teeth. Then Kara says something nerve wrecking. “We should go call them out on it or something!” 

“Oh no, we absolutely should not .” Lena denies. Kara gives her another bewildered look. At this, Lena softens. “Listen, Sam has been dating your sister for quite some time now, but she hasn’t told me about it. In fact, she’s been lying about it.” Lena thinks, before adding on, “rather badly.” 

Kara’s face gets an adorable frown on it, chest puffing as she makes a chuffed sound. Gesturing around a bit with her hands at Lena and then back to the direction they came as she sputters little sentence starts. Her date eventually lands on, “Why would you let her lie to you like that? Doesn’t it make you mad?” Then, more petulantly as she crosses her arms, “No one should be doing that to you.” And that little flair of indignation on her behalf is charming, too charming for a holidate, so Lena boxes that thought and its associated feelings up for later.

“Because,” Lena hedges gently. Her next words are interrupted by a bar patron barreling behind her into the bathrooms, forcing her to take a step into Kara’s space so she doesn’t get shoved over. The opening of the bathroom doors causes the echo chamber of sound within to shoot out into their little nook, so Kara doesn’t hear her when she says, “Sam is gun shy about these kinds of things.”

“What was that?” Kara asks, cupping a hand behind her ear with the free hand that isn’t holding the empty beer glass.

“Sam has her reasons. I can’t just ask her!” Lena answers, feeling the volume of her voice go near a shout as the bathroom doors swing open again. Kara winces like the bursts of sound hurts.

“Why bloody not?” Kara asks back just as loud, looking like she’s about to turn heel and go back to yell at Sam and her sister like a big blonde guard dog being sicked on someone. Lena sticks her tongue in her cheek, eyes scanning around to see if there’s a quieter place they can tuck themselves into. But they’re running out of time. If they really were going up front to read the specials menu, they’d be back by now. That poor Winn guy is probably being metaphorically fed to wolves if he’s back there alone with Sam and Alex. So Lena reaches up, gently pinches the collar of Kara’s golf shirt in her fingers, and tugs her down until the blonde’s ear reaches her mouth. She hesitates, not sure how to put it delicately, and when her breath hits the shell of Kara’s ear, Lena feels her date swallow hard and stop breathing. 

“Sam’s last partner died, Kara.” She talks into the other’s ear. It blooms a sad gray flower in her chest to say it out loud. The gravity of the still there grief that hangs to the words. The weight of them feels a bit like when you visit a friend, and their cat takes a liking to you enough to delicately sit on your lap. Something that’s not yours exactly, but must be felt by proximity. She holds still for a few seconds, making sure Kara hears her. She seems to, with the way she hasn’t started breathing again yet, going stiff under Lena’s fingers. The shorter woman leans back, relief taking hold when she sees the understanding dawning on Kara’s face. “It sucks that she’s lying to me. It does. But I’m just trying to take her lead with this.” Lena huffs. 

Their eyes meet, and their unspoken understanding takes hold again, flowing like a live current between them. Like all the times before where it really should be awkward to maintain eye contact like this, it’s simply not. In a way they’re still talking, just not out loud, Lena’s come to find. Blue eyes that say they understand meet green ones that imply appreciation for taking delicate things in stride. With a jolt of the bathroom door opening again, Lena realizes she’s still got a hold of Kara’s collar, and Kara must have reflexively hooked an arm around her back when she almost got shoved. With a clearing of throats and a bit of gesturing, they break out of each other’s space and head back to the table. Lena feels the tips of her ears burn as she tries to ignore how good Kara’s cologne had smelled.             

 

*

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*

 

Kara had easily agreed to not let on that they knew anything when they got back to the table, but that didn’t make it any less unbearable to watch as her sister and Lena’s bezzie mate proceed to flirt all night, doing a piss poor job of acting like this was their first meeting. They really are doing piss poor . Offenses include; Sam ordering Alex a glass of her favorite red wine and passing it off as a lucky guess, Alex casually mentioning Ruby without her name being said first, and both of them seemingly having an inside joke already in the span of time it took Lena to pull her for a chat near the bathrooms. She’s curious as to why Alex is going along with the whole thing, chalking it up to the fact that it’s their first time seeing each other in a while after a pretty big step. Maybe her sister is just enjoying taking the pressure off it all for one night, planning on telling her later when they drive home.     

“I’ve surfed pipeline, this is nothing.” Alex says with a wince, setting down the finished glass of beer with a definitive thunk . Winn and her had challenged each other to some kind of drink off. That less than humble brag earns a deep eye roll from Kara.

“Yeah, and you almost died .” She mutters. Alex scoffs at her, unsubtly shifting her body towards Sam in the way you do without even realizing you’re doing it. Kara’s feeling pretty dumb about not catching it the second they got introduced. She’d been too distracted by Lena’s ‘Kiss me I’m Irish’ shirt the second they saw each other, planning out how to go about commenting on it at some point in the night. Leaning over conspiratorially to talk into Lena’s ear now, Kara elaborates out of the other three’s earshot. “She got pulled from the water by the emergency team! The pressure from the wave popped the capillaries in her eyes, made ‘em go bloody shot for a week. Almost gave Eliza a heart attack watching from the telly back in Oz when she smacked right over the lip going ass over teakettle.”    

Lena purses her lips slightly, and Kara watches the woman’s side profile as she observes Alex and Sam with those keen eyes. 

“Jealous?” She asks, inclining her head. Kara’s sip of beer suddenly doesn’t taste right. Turning from the nausea inducing display in front of her to her holidate, Kara chuffs. She knows Lena’s teasing, but Kara can nettle off this.  

“Jealous of Eliza? Nope. I got to watch it live from the shore of Oahu.” This earns her an eye roll from Lena, who takes a moment to sip her own drink regally before responding. Kara recognizes this Lena, the one that’s had a few drinks and starts to relax a bit into her surroundings. 

“Shut up. Alex’s wipeout at pipeline was horrible. You were terrified, weren’t you?” 

Kara tries to hide a frown behind her glass. Of course Lena’s seen it. Admittedly, it was pretty awful seeing a younger Alex tumble into the wash in one of the deadliest wave breaks in the world, even if the tides were favorable and Alex had spent the prior four months training for big wave surfing. But Lena doesn't need to know that. “So you are in my sister’s fan club. Say, how’s it you know about my sister’s pro athlete career, but not mine?” Figures Lena of all people would know who Alex is. It happens on occasion, where someone she meets will know Alex by name, maybe know of some of her accomplishments. Beside her, Lena’s mouth quirks up at the corner.

“So you are jealous.” Lena concludes. Kara works her jaw a bit. 

“Am not.” 

That earns a full on laugh, Lena now swiveling in her seat to face her fully. “You so are. I’m sorry, but surfing is just a sexier sport than golf.” 

Kara’s not able to suppress a gasp of horror. “You take that back right now.”

They both steadfastly ignore the scene in front of her, involving Winn trying to balance an empty beer glass on his forehead as Sam flicks quarters into it. “Or what?” 

Kara smiles wide, a silence overlapping their conversation in the pause where Kara should be answering. There’s a weird bubbling feeling in Kara’s chest, started there when Lena had tugged her down by the shirt to whisper into her ear, and left there to roil as they’d moved to their familiar banter. The physical contact had rattled her. She can still feel the ghost of Lena’s breath on her neck, the way she’d breathed out the words about her friend’s past. It’s giving her flashbacks to Skyfall, when they’d been caught up in a moment of vulnerability in the booths. When Kara had desperately wanted to kiss her in the cab ride home. When Kara saw her looking off kilter in the candy shop, trapped behind glass with someone she clearly couldn’t stand, and having to face them alone. To put a plain point on it, Kara supposes the feeling is longing. Can you long for someone you barely know? That you’ve already agreed not to be physical with? She’d missed her holidate. She’s happy they arranged to see each other for a bit, even without it being anything deeper. Maybe her and Lena can be friends after this whole arrangement peters out. 

Lena’s smile goes from challenging to suspicious when the time for Kara to answer more than laps. 

“What?” She asks, eyes searching her face. Kara just grins, kicking the woman’s chair lightly with her shoe.

“Or I’ll have to prove you wrong.” Is all she says with a shrug. “About golf not being the sexier sport.”

Lena makes an unconvinced sound, cheeks dusted a faint pink from the alcohol. Turning back to the show in front of them, Kara doesn’t miss the way Lena’s breath hitches with the next sip of her drink. Maybe things will turn out differently than they expect, maybe they won’t. Either way, Kara is having that wonderful St Patrick’s day she predicted. 

 

*

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*

 

All in all, it ends up not being a terrible time. In fact, Lena is proud to say she’s enjoying herself. Sam and Alex have managed to settle into a more convincing groove, her and Winn struck up a very interesting conversation about her company’s newest tech development earlier, and Kara… well. Kara is performing her holidate duties excellently. She stops one guy from trying to hit on her, shuts down Winn’s questions about future gala dates, and skillfully redirects the conversation away from how the two of them met to different types of wine.  

 “Alex will drink any red you put under her nose.” Kara says confidently, tossing the wine menu card onto the bar top. Alex frowns, reaching for it again.

“Hold on now, I’m a bit more picky when I’m in the states. Best red is from ‘stralia, and no one in this city seems to know that well enough to have it stocked.” Lena makes a mental note to ask Alex for recommendations on wineries later. She’s been meaning to expand her collection and fill that ridiculously pretentious wine fridge that came preinstalled in her penthouse kitchen. Who designs a fridge that only holds wine? Even Lena’s not that rich. Well, she is, but she doesn’t want to act like it. 

They’re all well on their way to being properly drunk, and Lena can sense the night is about to come to a close. Even the noise of the once earsplitting bar has dulled to a dim roar as other patrons have filtered out, leaving to go bar hop or to just go home after their long days. Despite the lessening noise, Lena noticed Kara slipping her earplugs into her ears about an hour ago after the second round of drinks, switching to water from then on. She wonders if being drunk makes Kara’s apparent sensory issues worse. How much Kara has drunk certainly becomes apparent when she leans her tall body into her side, interrupting her wonderings and almost shoving her off the bar stool where she’s perched for most of the night.   

“Hey, Lena, can I ask you a question?” She asks, accent thick and vowels fuzzy around the edges like Alex’s. Lena nods, not trusting her tongue not to slur out a confirmation. “What’s with the whole cabbage and beef thing?” Kara whispers to her as Winn and Sam talk more about their favorite wine bars in the city. Lena has to bite her tongue before giving Kara a brief schooling on Irish American cuisine. 

“It’s corned beef, and it’s traditional.” 

“But there’s no corn in it?” Kara chirps, rubbing her head on Lena’s shoulder like some kind of sleepy lion might. It’s a common misconception. The corn in the name comes from the salting process of the meat, where large rocks of salt called ‘corns’ were used in the preservation process. Lena allows Kara to be touchy, telling herself that they’ve all had a few drinks and could use some grace. “That’s weird. You Americans have weird beef.”

“I was adopted from Ireland when I was four, so I wasn’t always American.” Lena lets slip. Kara sits up at that, a strange expression shifting over her face.

“I was adopted too, when I was twelve.” She mutters. Kara’s breath smells sweet and boozy. Lena blinks at her, a thread deep within her tugged tight. Just as quick as it had opened, that strange something in Kara’s expression shutters itself, and with a sort of falling motion she goes back to pressing her forehead into Lena’s shoulder. Lena’s not sure what to say about what just happened, recognizing that could have been a deep moment for them if something in Kara hadn’t locked itself. Maybe she’s forgetting herself. Maybe they shouldn’t talk about things like that, when the whole idea of their arrangement hinges on Kara’s desire to keep her dating life simple. Lena’s not about to drag her into a charged conversation. Better for both of them if they just stick to American meat. 

“Unfortunately America’s original red meat source was slaughtered to near extinction.” Kara looks up at her, puzzled, and Lena is reminded yet again that Kara is from an entirely different country. “Bison.” She says curtly. Kara frowns at that, realization dawning on those pretty features. 

“That’s sad!” She pouts, lower lip jutting out. “I love bison. They’re so cute.” 

“The Cheyenne and Arapaho people in Oklahoma are doing wonderful things to bring their population back up. I have high hopes that Bison will be ok.” 

Kara looks pleased at this, back to her overgrown house cat mannerisms. “Well, Aussie meat isn’t much better I suppose. We’re all supposed to be eating Roos if we’re trying to be more sustainable down there.” 

Lena can’t help but laugh at that, grabbing at Kara’s water and drinking half of it for herself. “For the love of God, don’t mention alternative meat sources in front of my mother on Easter next month.” 

“I might.” Kara says, ornery. 

“No.” Lena says.

“Fine.”

Notes:

How do we think Easter brunch with Lilian is gonna go??? (probably bad)

Chapter 6

Notes:

Welcome back! Easter time my little bunnies

Lena watches with a strange, sick sort of awe as a wave of rabid children holding multicolored Easter baskets descend upon the large hill of grass dotted with little plastic eggs. It’s an explosion of sound, bright colors everywhere below them. Screaming kids of all ages in a rainbow of pastel shirts, Ruby among them, are marked with bright green grass stains all down their fronts as they compete in the egg hunt, pushing each other down the hill and shoving eggs into their baskets with feverish haste. 

“Ruby! Be nice!” Sam shouts ahead of them, following helplessly behind the large mass of candy crazed kids. Ruby doesn’t seem to hear, murder in her eyes as she bolts across the lawn with her easter basket ready to swing on anyone who dares to get close and ruin her last year of being young enough to do this. Her best friend’s taken off her heels, hoisting them over her shoulder and following along after her rabid tween barefoot. The ground is mushy from the rain last night, and Lena feels her own heels sinking into the lawn with every step. She’d have taken them off by now, but if Lilian saw her walking barefoot in public, there would be hell to pay.    

Kara laughs at the display, especially when a kid late to the party rushes past them so fast they almost trip, letting out a war cry.   

“You sure you don’t want me to carry you?” She asks, opening her arms and pulling the sleeves of her salmon colored dress shirt up to her elbows. Lena rolls her eyes at the absurdity of her actually jumping into Kara’s arms, but feels a fondness kick up in her chest that she suggested in the first place.  

“I’m in a dress.” She chides. It’s a sort of matching dress of the same pink color. Something modest that she’d wear in the office, with a sharp gray suit blazer over it. Lena thought it might be nice to look like a united front. She doesn’t trust Lilian not to try and pull a stunt, like sitting them at separate places. “We have to look presentable at brunch, remember? What if you drop me again?” Not that Lena thinks Kara would, given the outline of biceps Lena can clearly see through the shirt. Has Kara gotten more muscular since she saw her last? They’d caught up a bit after they met in the parking lot, and she hadn’t seemed too different since the bar. Her hair is a bit shorter, maybe, but it’s hard to tell with the way it’s swept away from her face in a neat braid. Lena chooses not to dwell on it too much. Focusing on Kara’s athletic build hadn’t ever led to any convenient trains of thought for her. Kara huffs as she adjusts her glasses, not bothering to tuck her shirt back into gray casual pants, the color of which matches Lena’s blazer perfectly.

“Look, I know you’re nervo about me meeting your mother and all, but trust me, I’ve got this.”

“Understatement of the century. And you’re not just meeting my step mother. You’re meeting my brother, my nephew, your future step niece, and spending time with Sam.”

For some reason, this list of complications doesn’t seem to rock the boat. 

“We’ve run through all possible outcomes. I’m ready.” Kara assures, turning on a heel smoothly to walk down the hill backwards so they can face each other. Unlike the break between Valentine's day and St Patrick’s day, they had actually made some use out of having exchanged phone numbers. It had been mostly Kara initiating, and nothing but logistics. Just a basic rundown of what to expect today. But it had been nice looking forward to answering texts when she got off work. Lena’s keeping an eye on anything that might endanger their arrangement, such as letting herself get a little too involved with the back and forth, and carefully side stepped an invite Kara had extended for coffee the week prior. It had been late, Kara had probably just forgotten herself. This thing between them, it’s only holidays. No commitment. No pressure. Isn’t that what Kara had wanted from the get go? Lena didn’t see the point in hanging out at some coffee shop with Kara, who although is nice company, is not attracted to her. Every time Lena became too invested in waiting for the golfer to text her back, she had remembered their meeting at the mall all those months ago, where Kara had admitted exactly that.  

Didn’t mean the reminder hadn’t stung a bit. The added stress of the Sam and Alex situation is not helping. Apparently after St. Patrick’s Day, Alex and Kara had a long talk, where she confessed to everything. Sam and Kara had even hung out a few times while Alex was in town. The pair had asked Kara not to mention anything to Lena, apparently still believing the ridiculous notion that Lena didn’t already know. Kara had texted her as it was happening, indignant on her behalf, wanting to come clean about the whole thing. But Lena hadn’t allowed it. If Sam wants to hide and insult her intelligence, she can do so and suffer the consequences. Which means not offering to babysit Ruby when Sam asks, and making her friend jump through increasingly strange hoops to try and keep up her lie.

With another step down a particularly steep part of the hill, Kara’s heel makes a wet sound in the mud, but she doesn’t slip, smiling up at Lena as they both walk on the lawn newly free of plastic eggs. Lena feels a nervous squirming in her stomach. The one she’d woken up with this morning. That awkward, dread-like feeling that always follows when she introduces someone new to her family. 

“Please don’t get mud on your shoes.” Is all Lena manages to get out. Kara’s smile drops.

“Hey now,” The Aussie says, accent thick on the words like jam. The kind of tone someone might use on a frightened animal. She reaches out to pinch Lena’s blazer, giving it a few little cajoling tugs. “It’s easter! Everything out here smells like fresh grass. And your holidate is here. Have I ever let you down before?” 

Lena thinks back to Skyfall, where Kara quite literally let her down. Painfully. The anxiety buzzing under her skin heightens at the thought of Lilian and Kara in the same room. What if Lilian insults Kara? Belittles her? Chases her off, leaving Lena back where she started at Christmas? But then she thinks about how much fun she ended up having in Kara’s car on valentines day, and at the bar with their combined friends, and about how Kara and her have become sort of friends. How the ease of their arrangement has stopped her anxiety spiral more than once in the lead up to this brunch. Lena’s not sure when they’d stopped walking, but the wave of egg hunting kids are much farther away now, taking their loud shouts and screams with them. 

“Go on then, deep breath?” Kara encourages, giving her a winning smile as she demonstrates. In with an exaggerated breath through her nose, out with a big ahhhh . Lena follows suit, letting her eyes shut tight before opening them. It focuses her senses a bit. Kara had been right. The late spring rain last night made everything in the earth open up. The sky is clear, but it isn’t too warm. A few robins call out from the branches of the oak trees lining the park. Ruby and Sam have broken off from the group of kids and can now be seen walking to the parking lot together in the middle distance. It really does smell fresh and green. She hadn’t even noticed. Lena looks down at Kara, who smiles up at her patiently. Something yellow catches her eye, just behind the golfer’s left shoe.       

Kara follows her gaze, bending down to pick up a single plastic egg, the color of a lemon. With a little pop in her big hands, the egg swings on its plastic hinge to reveal its candy treasure. Lena laughs at the face Kara makes at it, grabbing it out of her hand as she resumes walking. 

“In honor of Easter, Kara Danvers will enjoy her first taste of blue dye number seven.” Lena teases, waving the blue peep bunny marshmallow in her face.  

“No!” Kara fights, batting her hands away. “They’ve done experiments on those things. They don’t decompose after like ten years in the sun.” She wrinkles her nose in an adorable way that makes Lena have to compartmentalize it later.  

“Really?!” Lena asks, making the effort to sound surprised. For a brief second, Kara nods along seriously, convinced she’s gotten through to her. “So it’s anti-aging?” She asks, shrugging. Kara guffaws as Lena pops the head of it into her mouth, biting down. Kara watches the motion, eyes darting down to her mouth, and staying there. Lena chews the peep, watching Kara’s eyes get a little far away. “Umm, did you want the rest of it?” She asks.  

Kara’s eyes dart back to hers, the faint dust of a blush covering her cheeks. “Oh! Umm, no! No, it’s alright.” If she wasn’t before, Kara is definitely blushing harder now, and Lena makes a note not to tease her with sugar in the future. Lena raises an eyebrow as Kara scratches at the back of her head, adjusts the glasses she’s already touched three times. Her Aussie is jittery over some sugar. What a dork. 

Having been sure footed until right this moment, Kara trips over her own feet. 

 

*

*

*

 

Easter is a much bigger holiday in Australia, since it usually shuts down the shops and servos for a four day weekend. Those only happen a few times a year for Aussies, and Kara’s sore to miss it. It’s usually a dry Friday to Sunday, no booze unless you buy it on Thursday from the bottle-o. So said the queen once upon a time, stingy uptight bastards. She tells Lena as much on the drive over. 

She’d taken most of the trip to settle her nerves, listening to Lena get increasingly stressed next to her as she gritted out directions, no matter how much Kara tried to pull her out of it. She can’t really blame Lena for being distracted, especially where her own head is at. It was bad enough that Lena looked absolutely gorgeous today when they met up. She’s still thinking about how her mouth had looked eating that damned marshmallow candy. Or course she had tripped over her own feet after seeing that. There’s also the mild embarrassment of Lena’s rejection from the week earlier, when Kara had suggested getting a cupa. It had been late, and their texting had been so much fun, and Lena was sounding receptive… so Kara had taken a risk and asked her if she’d fancy getting a drink somewhere. She’d made it out to sound like she wanted to discuss logistics of their brunch today, go over any last minute details about Lena’s family, but the true reason had been quite simple; Kara had missed Lena’s company between St Patrick’s day and now. Missed how it felt to be in a room with her. Wanted to again. She supposed Lena didn’t feel the same, given how she’d shot her down. Why would someone like Lena want to take a risk for someone like her?

So, she’s nervous, but mostly, she wants to uphold her end of this holidate bargain. Refocus her emotions and what this whole thing between them is. She finally gets to meet Lena’s family and back them off for her. Make this whole Easter thing enjoyable. Maybe not spend the whole day with homesickness as Alex and Eliza’s pictures start to roll into the groupchat from the get together in Melbourne. 

She also has to look Lena’s brother in the face and not fess up to being the cousin of the whistleblowing reporter that blew his father’s secret sky high with the article of the century.

The little area in town that Lena had directed her to from the passenger seat for brunch with her family seems to be some sort of swanky airbnb that her stepmother had rented out and done up the backyard for. If Kara had just glanced at the scene upon stepping through the gate, she might have thought she was in Australia for a bash with a regular family. But the longer she looks, the more the cracks in the scene show that this is a set up event. A picnic table near the front of the yard is set up with a blue table runner, complementing the pastel balloons strung up along the fence. Streamers are expertly twisted along posts on the back porch and the legs of chairs. The plates on the tables are porcelain, not paper, with little hand painted rabbits on the edge. The napkins are real cloth, with a fancy embroidered L on the corner. The spread of food is hot on the main table, columns of steam coming up from platters of brunch food, but the red barbie on the back deck of the house is clearly cold. No tank of gas hooked up to anything. This food was catered, by private chiefs probably, and brought here just for the Luthor’s convenience. They hadn’t even gone through the house when they got there, just through the side gate. 

Renting out a whole house in the city you live in just to have a little get together in the back seems rather odd to Kara, but with money and fame like the Luthors, Kara assumes they might have just wanted somewhere more private and safe. Especially when Lena points out that the same man in an unassuming baseball cap has walked by three times with a dog, meaning he’s part of the Luthor’s private security team.

Almost wistfully, Kara smells the air, hoping to smell something familiar. Prawns turning gold over an open flame, sizzling in brushed on melted butter as their tails curl and crisp. White fish cooking over flames till it flakes off of a fork, either bream from the Maribyrnong or snapper from port Phillip bay. Maybe a little slow cooked lamb shoulder with rosemary, like Eliza and Alex would be eating sometime today. Unhelpfully, Kara’s stomach growls. It’s been weeks since Alex went back home, and Kara still hasn’t been back to Oz this year. Her trip is coming up soon though, and she can hardly wait to be back for two weeks in June. 

It’ll be winter months for the southern hemisphere, which means less tourists on the already busy Melbourne streets, and an easier time with the weather. Kara can’t wait to go to her favorite pub and catch up with her old mates. Winter months also means larger, more predictable wave sets for her and Alex to surf. It’s been so long since they’ve carved a set. But most of all, besides hiking and surfing and being social and all the muck, Kara had missed just being home. She’d love to pull some weeds for Eliza out in the garden, or fix the broken porch swing with Alex. She’d love to watch the wildlife that visits the garden out back at dusk. She’d like to sleep in her old bedroom, with the scratchy blue and red blanket she’d gotten from her cousin when he’d dropped her off with the Danvers for the first time. She wants to run her fingers along the photos in the hall as she comes downstairs-   

“Kara?” Lena’s hand waves in front of her face, ripping her from her thoughts.

“Oh, what? Sorry. Got caught up for a sec there.” Kara apologizes. Slowly, the look of annoyance and stress on Lena’s face turns to something curious. 

“Caught up in what?” She asks carefully. Her shoulders relax a bit, the very idea of having a puzzle to figure out clearly taking over that brilliant brain of her’s and giving the American something else to focus on besides the tense family gathering they’re walking into. But Kara doesn’t really feel like being Lena’s puzzle to solve right now, so she gives her a tight smile. 

“Nothing. Just a little homesick.” She says with what she hopes is a convincing shrug. Whether or not Lena believes it, Kara doesn’t stick around to dwell, making out for the food table. Lena only hesitates for a second before following after. 

 

*

*

*

  

They both play it cool, walking over to the dining spread like they’ve been here for hours already. Exactly like the game plan Lena had discussed in the car; make themselves comfortable until Lilian decides to make them uncomfortable . To Lena’s great relief, it seems to be working. Of course Lilian sees them immediately, and she’s so pissed Lena can practically see steam coming from her ears, but unless you grew up with the woman, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But Lena knows. It’s in the way she pauses slightly in her movements, the way her jaw tightens just the slightest, the way she reaches up with her left hand to touch her gold earring before smoothing down her already perfect outfit. Any minute now her adoptive mother is going to walk up to them and be cold as an ice sculpture that was told to be polite. 

Once Kara and her dish up a plate and sit down at the decorated picnic table, she realizes she needn't worry much about the intimidating introduction coming their way, since aunt Rhea shows up right after they do, and Lilian doesn’t even see her or her obvious date after that. They’re effectively invisible to the Luthor matriarch. Because Rhea has just shown up to the function wearing a playboy bunny dress with large, fluffy bunny ears.  

“Hoppy Easter, my little bunnies!” Lena’s aunt calls out, descending the stairs of the rental house. A much younger man descends after, with long dark hair in a white suit. “This is Jesus.” She points behind her.

Her mother, once the total homemaker package of grace in her classy sleeveless fuchsia blouse and an easter patterned apron, twists her face in horror. The woman is beside herself, hands coming up to the side of her face as if she can stop seeing it. “What in God’s name are you wearing?” She asks, stalking across the yard like a lion approaching a crippled bush bird.  

“Bunny ears.” Rhea shrugs, oblivious. Next to her, Kara bites down on a finger to stop from laughing in between bites of a ridiculous cheese croissant she’d gotten from the dining spread. Lena gently kicks her in the shin.

“What do we do now? Should I introduce myself?” Kara asks, making to leave her plate and stand up. Lena slings an arm into Kara’s lap, shoving her back down until her rump hits the bench. 

“No! Are you crazy?” She hisses. “I cannot introduce you right now. Rhea’s taking all the heat. She’ll ignore us both until Lex gets here anyway. Just, sit tight.” Lena explains. This is all going just a little bit too well for her so far, if she didn’t say so. She’s not only fulfilled her role as wayward daughter, showing up with a date that Lilian has not only never met but would never approve of if she had, but Rhea’s outfit seems to be giving her an aneurysm.   

Sam and Ruby arrive then, walking through the back gate. Ruby looks happy and cleaned up, ready for the rest of the day with family. She quickly wanders over to the plates. Sam however, looks… happy happy. Not happy in the way that she’d been at the beginning of the year, when she knew people were looking her way and was trying to hide it. Not even the same happy she’d been when Lena knew her and Alex had agreed to give it another go. Her best friend in the whole world is truly happy, like that part of her life is finally less turbulent. Like she’s found the one.

And that should make Lena happy. In fact, it should make Lena thrilled for her oldest friend, one of the most important people in her life. Her sister. They should be happy about it together.

But her best friend in the world, someone she trusts with her life, one of the few people that hadn’t abandoned her after her family’s grievances were publicly aired, won’t even tell her that she’s in love. What did she do wrong for Sam to hide from her? Especially something that clearly makes her so happy in a way she hasn’t been since Ruby’s father? She won’t pretend she knows what it’s like to lose a partner like that, but her understanding can only go so far when it becomes clear that Sam won’t trust her with this.

Lena thinks of how it was last year. Ruby, Sam, and Lena taking up the side of the table at some other safehouse Lilian had rented out. Sam and Lena laughing together as Ruby cracked jokes, and ate her bodyweight in candy. The weather had been much worse, and they’d had to eat under a canopy as a chilly rain pelted the stretched canvas fabric above them in a rhythmic tempo. Lilian had left them alone, for the most part. Since the loss of Lionel was so fresh, and his will hadn’t been read yet to blow their family sky high. Lex hadn’t taken the CEO title yet. Lena hadn’t left L-Corp. Connor was running around, but babbling and shorter. Lena had just started seeing Andrea. 

Things were simpler, but in the end, it wasn’t where she was supposed to be. There was a wrongness in it, like everyone around her had big things happening, and she didn’t feel like she fit in. It was partly the reason she’d gotten so serious with Andrea, she realizes now. Lena feels much more settled in her life now, free of L-Corp and most of the family drama. Her new apartment is one of her favorite places she’s ever lived in, and dating is locked down with Kara and her’s situation of convenience. She’s finally able to get into her interests properly, like funding one of her favorite local businesses with grants and donations. She has full access to her lab tech at work, and can use it for basically whatever she wants. But her and Sam have to have it out one of these days, and soon. Lena misses her best friend.   

Sam catches her eye all the same, unaware of Lena’s inner turmoil, giving her a nod of acknowledgement to the fact that she’d brought Kara as her date. Rhea being Rhea? The soft brown eyes of her friend ask. Lena just hides her smile behind her hand, giving her a subtle nod as Lilian and her aunt continue their back and forth. Sam and Ruby widely side step the two Luthor sisters' argument, coming to sit with their plates on the opposite side of the picnic table from Kara and her. Kara, who looks a little awestruck at seeing Ruby for the first time, waves at the tween, who waves back timidly with rosy cheeks. 

“This is an easter brunch. This is not the time for a silly costume!” Lilian continues. Lena worries for a second that Lilian truly is going to lose it. As if on cue, with levels of dramatic irony to her mother’s statement that could rival a Greek tragedy, someone in what Lena definitely considers a silly costume hops up to their group away from where the circle of kids are playing.  

“Looks like someone else didn’t get the memo.” Lena reports dryly, eyeing the rapidly approaching someone in a large easter bunny suit.  

With a shake and a sigh, the bunny reaches white gloved hands up to take off the mascot head, revealing… a quite handsome man. Something about him, however, is incredibly familiar. His full lips stretch wide into a smile, showing a set of teeth that look like they’ve benefited from orthodontics and whitening treatments. His hair is nicely cut and thick at the roots, if a little mussed from the heat dome of the inside of the costume helmet. His brown eyes land on Lilian as he runs a hand down his beard.

“Ah! Jack! I’m so glad you could make it.” Lilian sighs, like he’s the savior of everything. Lilian Luthor never rushes anywhere, but Lena will be damned with how she hastens to his side to pull him into a polite hug. One subtle look at Lena over his shoulder from Lilian is all it takes for Lena to remember exactly who this man is, if the name hadn’t already sparked her memory. Lena’s stomach sours. Jack, the guy Lilian had tried to set her up with on New Years.  

“Sorry I’m late, I was doing rounds for the kids at the cancer ward.” He apologizes. This gets the reaction everyone expects when a handsome man mentions that he cares about kids with cancer. He moves where Lilian ushers hem, but Rhea stops him with a hand on his chest, leveling him with a look. 

“I like a man in fur.” She husks out.

Lena sees the man freeze, a doe in headlights look about him. Lena isn’t sure, but she might see him swallow once. “Thank you.” He says, looking into her eyes. Lilian, having no time for Rhea’s shenanigans and clearly not wanting to leave Lena’s love life alone for another second, reaches forward past his side to all but shove her aunt away. Rhea lets out a sort of naahh! sound as she’s pushed to the side. 

“You remember my daughter, Lena?” Lilian says, voice like perfect sugar. Lena’s brain goes full overdrive. Red alert, Lilian called her daughter instead of step daughter. She’s really in the shit now. Next to her, Kara stops eating, and the quiet rage building in her throat is momentarily halted by the way Kara’s knee finds her’s under the table, pressing gently. But only momentarily. She honestly wishes she didn’t see something like this coming. Lilian was bound to run offense when she was told she was going to be bringing her own date, especially when she had refused to give her Kara’s name. She would have just looked her up or run a background check, judging her for her sports career, or whatever education she had gotten, or even worse. What if Lilian says something snarky and dismissive of Kara’s gender? Lena honestly can’t imagine anything more infuriating, and someone like Kara doesn’t deserve to be treated with the Lilian special dressing down. 

For a brief moment, Lena wonders if she should have had a conversation with Lilian specifically about Kara being Non-Binary. But the thought is immediately crushed by a nightmare scenario that plays in her head of the million offensive things she could say. Either way, Lena’s sure that if she could breathe fire, her meddling, classist, narcissistic bitch of a step mother would be a smoldering pile of ash right now.   

“Of course!” Jack says as he bends down, extending a gloved hand for a shake. Lena is tempted to ignore the offered hand just to be a bitch, but it seems a bit extreme for a man that visits cancer patients in his spare time. “You’re even prettier in person.” He says. To Lena’s surprise, it doesn’t feel sleazy when Jack says the words. His tone sounds genuine and warm, like some sort of baked good right out of the oven that’s been dusted with a British accent while it was still hot. He’s not seeming so unbearable… probably just as wrapped up in this scheme of Lilian’s as she is. It’s not really her forced sutor’s fault, more often than not. Lilian has been known to lie and omit truths about her before introducing men. Leaving out that she’s completely uninterested, leaving out that she won’t move out of Chicago, leaving out that she’s bisexual… Usually Lena corrects those misunderstandings quickly, and the guys back off. Unless they’re some asshat son of a board member who feels like getting at Lena will be easy. There’d been quite a few of those who hadn’t really understood but had willingly gone along with it. Lena’s especially rude to those. “Thank you.” She hears herself say. 

“Hey,” Kara greets suddenly from next to her. With a mouth half full of cake, Kara reaches boldly behind Lena’s back to extend her large hand for a shake. “I’m Kara. Nice to meet you. Dig the bunny suit.” Lena glances at Kara, who leans back in her chair. It’s almost like an air of nonchalance, or rudeness, the way she does it. Like Jack had interrupted at a bad time. Definitely not what they had discussed in the car. After Jack, who looks momentarily surprised at Kara, takes the offered hand, Kara leaves her arm along the back of Lena’s chair instead of pulling back into her own space. Lena feels herself prickle with a sort of specific annoyance, one that indicates she’s missing something. A glance up at Sam tells her she’s right. Her quizzical look is met by Sam’s nod of confirmation, hidden skillfully behind a sip of her water. Ruby, smart as a whip, stays silent. 

Lilian shoots her a look that could mold tomatoes, and with a megawatt smile, sets Jack down by the shoulders into the chair next to her forcefully. Lena jumps a bit with the way the picnic bench bows under the weight of another person, and the plates sing a little song as their edges rattle together. Her mother plays it off smoothly enough, batting her eyelashes and folding her hands together so that Jack, who’d been more than a little surprised at being manhandled, isn’t able to really tell for sure if the Luthor matriarch had just grand slammed his ass onto a bench, or if she’d simply guided him to his new seat. “I’m sorry Jack, we weren’t expecting Lena to bring a guest.” She says politely. Well, polite to anyone else, but Lena and Sam know the truth. Lilian Luthor is about to make a meal of her as soon as everyone else is out of earshot. Lena realizes however, with a fresh wave of indignation on Kara’s part, that this is the first time today that Lilian has actually acknowledged Kara’s presence. 

It’s at that moment that Lena decided to fight back. 

“Really?” She asks, voice the perfect mix of faux surprise, matching Lilian’s act like a duo. “Because I explicitly said I was bringing a guest.” To make it even more clear, Lena leans back in her chair, carefully reaching up to hold Kara’s hand. Kara doesn’t even look at them, just continues to ignore everyone as she shovels cake into her mouth. The only indication that Kara’s heard anything at all is the way she changes her grip to match Lena’s, lacing their fingers. Jack, who by all accounts doesn’t seem like a total idiot, senses the tension. 

“I’ll just go say hi to the kids!” He chirps happily, glancing at Lena and Kara’s hands once before he all but launches off the bench. With a swift move, he puts the bunny head back on and hops to the circle of kids across the lawn.  

Lilian takes the seat next to Lena silently, like the angel of death. The whole of her stiffens with the sharp way her adoptive mother inhales through her nose. Next to her, Kara stops eating, twirling her fork around her fingers meditatively. “See what you did?” She asks primly. “Now he thinks you aren’t interested.”

“I’m not interested.” Lena fires back, as cool as she can. Underneath the table, Kara’s foot nudges into hers. Some kind of silent support. She’s just happy Kara’s keeping her mouth shut like they discussed in the car. “I can’t believe you’re trying to set me up with the Easter bunny.”

“That’s because I care about you.” Lilian dismisses her. “I care about how your actions reflect this family.” 

Lena can’t help a small scoff. “There it is.” She mumbles. 

Lilian keeps staring straight ahead, rigid. “I want you to find someone with real potential.” She goes on, not seeming to care about Lena’s protesting. “Not this holidate trash like your aunt.”  

Lena follows Lilian’s gaze to where Rhea stands with her date. She’s tossing little bits of candy up into the air for Jesus to catch in his mouth. He makes a particularly daring dive for a mini reeses, and they both cheer like idiots when he catches it, crashing into a plastic lawn chair as he does and breaking it’s front leg off. He has grass stains all down his white suit.  

“It seems like she’s having fun.” Lena states. Just so she can look back at this moment tonight in her safe little apartment, far away from all this judgment, and know she didn’t just sit there as her mother dressed down her favorite aunt’s life choices. Maybe it’s in her own defense too, since in Lilian’s eyes, she’s gone and done the same thing by bringing Kara here. Lilian is just giving her the same speech she’s given her since she turned sixteen. It’s always the same, and it was bound to get harsher with Lex’s engagement. The same words all strung together to let her know she’s viewed by everyone in their circle as a failure, that Lex is the shining example. That she’ll never get Lilian’s approval for anyone she dates, unless it’s a man, with money and prestige. Someone like Jack. It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before, and after all her hard work in therapy it shouldn’t sting like this. But in front of Sam, who keeps secrets, how is she supposed to feel like she’s in the right? Like the right people approve of her?

And why had she thought bringing Kara to hear all this would make her feel any better?  

“She’s going to die alone. Is that what you want?” Lilian asks her, point blank. How had this gone so bad so quickly? Why does Lena suddenly feel like the world is about to end? She must really be pissed off if she’s speaking like this in front of Sam and Ruby, dropping their usual facade. Kara’s foot nudges hers a little firmer under the table, but Lena barely feels it. It’s too late for anyone to offer her any comfort now. As if sensing the weakness, Lilian inhales for the final blow, and Lena braces. “At least the other friend you brought home wore a dress .” She mutters, cold eyes staring forward towards the lawn. 

Lilian, you heartless skank. Lena thinks. 

Andrea thrown in her face, as if things hadn’t spiraled into a total disaster in less than five minutes and needed that special push. A cruel little laugh bubbles out of Lilian’s mouth, boiling water on an already scorched wound. A hot flush crawls up her neck, and suddenly she’s letting go of Kara’s hand, pulling away, getting up from the table. She doesn’t look at Kara, or Sam, or Ruby, or Lilian. Everything in her mind screams; Get far away from the bitch in the blouse . Even when Kara speaks for the first time, calling out her name, she barely hears it. 

 

*

*

*

 

Kara’s up and out of her seat in an instant, about to go chase Lena down, but a firm hand fists into the back of her jacket, pulling her the other direction towards the front gate the way they’d come. Furious, and ready to throw down proper with whatever drongo decided it was ok to put hands on her, she digs her heels into the ground and turns to aim a swing. Upon looking behind her, her hand stops curling into a haymaker. It’s Sam. 

“Let me go.” Her voice comes out harsh. Sam looks at her with an incredulous glare, still pulling her by the jacket towards the gate. 

“Shut up and follow me or you’ll make it worse for her.” Sam hisses. Kara opens her mouth to argue, half of mind to dig her heels into the grass again to stop Sam from dragging her, but Sam seems to sense it.

Sam sends a nervous glance back at the table where Ruby and Lilian sit like nothing happened. “Lilian will call security and throw you out . Just- please , step out here for a second and hear me out.” The taller woman asks. As a peace offering, she lets go of Kara’s jacket, continuing to walk towards the gate and trusting Kara to follow. Kara does, after a brief pause. Once they’re through the gate, Sam rubs at her temples like the whole interaction gave her a migraine. Kara crosses her arms across her chest, not appreciating the way Sam is acting like this is a trial on her instead of Lena.

“I should have followed her when she got up, or said something to that witch-.” 

“And that would have been even worse!” Sam cuts her off. “Didn’t she warn you about Lilian?” 

“Well, yeah, but-” Kara stammers, throwing her arms out to the side at a loss for words. Part of her can’t believe things had gone so badly so fast. She glances back towards the gate entrance, impatient to leave and find Lena. This conversation is a waste of time. “What kind of a friend are you, anyway? Letting her just take the piss like that!” 

“Kara, saying anything just makes things worse for her. You don’t know what they’re like. How they work.” Kara must look unconvinced, because Sam’s face darkens from agitation to offense. “What?” She asks slowly. “What is that look for?” Kara scowls at her. The situation they left is awkward enough without Kara having a fight with her sister’s girlfriend out front. 

“Does it make things worse for her, or for you?” She challenges. “Because to me, it seems like you let her mum tear into her and didn’t say wallop about it.” Sam sucks in a surprised breath, not expecting to be the next target of Kara’s indignation. It’s more than a little awkward now that they’re having this conversation, especially since they’ve only met a few times.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sam defends, cheeks turning a little red. Her tone means to brush Kara off, but it just makes the athlete bristle more. “There is no reasoning with a woman like Lilian. She’s always going to disapprove, and it’s been killing Lena since we were kids. But she’s stronger than Lilian. She always has been. She’s found a way to deal with it. The way we support her is giving her a minute to save face right now.” 

Kara scoffs rudely, but chews on her next words, aware of who exactly she’s speaking to before spitting them out. “You’d know ‘bout saving face, would ya? You’re the one that’s lying to her about shagging my sister.” 

At this, Sam draws herself up straighter, clearly cranked now. Kara makes a note to send her sister an apology text for getting into it with the woman she loves, hoping this won’t affect their relationship. “This has nothing to do with that.” 

“Doesn’t it?” Kara questions immediately. Sam’s jaw clenches. “You’re supposed to be her best mate. When are you going to tell her Alex and you are talking about moving in together?” Sam stares her down, but not before her eyes glance once toward the fence line, like she’s scared for a moment that Lena will hear. This sets Kara off even more. 

“You don’t get to come here, and start pulling shit like this.” Sam whispers furiously, pointing at the ground for emphasis. “I don’t know what you and Lena have going on, but I can tell you care about each other more than you both want to admit. Past this Holidate crap. I know you two text.” 

“Piss off, Sam.” Kara fires off, no longer caring about sparing her sister’s girlfriend’s feelings. “You should be the last person judging her for our deal.” Sam continues like Kara hadn’t said anything. Kara begrudgingly gives credit to the woman.

“I know my best friend. She’s one of my favorite people in the whole world. So I also know that the last person she brought home to meet Lilian was Andrea. I don’t know how much she told you about that whole thing, but it didn’t end well for her. You gonna be the next person to hurt her like that?” Sam asks.

Kara fumes, staring right at the dirt by Sam’s feet. “You gonna keep avoiding telling her about Alex? Forcing me to lie about it too? You both suck for that.” 

Sam’s nostrils flare, but she says nothing. That is, until Kara turns to leave back through the gate. 

“You gonna tell her who your cousin is?” Sam asks, voice hard. Kara whips around, mind going absolutely blank. 

“Why does it matter?” She says. But they both know how Lena might take the news. Sam takes several slow steps toward Kara, stopping just before their toes touch. Kara really wishes Americans fought more. This would be so much easier if they just slugged it out and went back in as mates. 

“I know you care about her.” Sam repeats. “Maybe that’s what’s making you act flat out stupid to me right now. But you can’t just stand here and say I’m the only one omitting hard to swallow truths. Not when you understand the why of it all. I can tell she cares about you too. She hasn’t let herself do that in a while. So if you hurt her, if you break my best friend’s heart like that tramp Andy did, I won’t care that you’re Alex’s sister. You’ll answer to me for it.” 

Surprisingly, the statement endears Sam to her again, and not just the way the word ‘tramp’ had rolled right off her tongue. Now they’re talking business, getting down to the real bullshit of it all. The meat. Apparently Sam cares enough about Lena to give her the best friend shovel talk, but not enough to sit Lena down and hash it all out. But now Kara can’t push it without seeming like a hypocrite for hiding her relation to the Kents. Like a true god damned American, Sam is using mutually assured destruction. 

They search each other’s eyes for a long moment, a common ground being met. Understanding strangling out the flash paper anger. Kara gives her a stiff head nod in acknowledgment. “Nice to hear you defending her like a real friend would. Try it in front of her mum next time, yeah?” It’s said with only half seriousness and snark, all the bravado and bluff of an Aussie making their point while trying to crack off again.

“I might not like you as much after this conversation.” Sam says flatly. Kara can tell it’s half a joke and half the truth because of how her mouth quirks up at the corner. Seems Alex has taught this one to nettle like an Aussie. Kara fights a smile, still miffed but rolling with it for their future’s sake. 

“I’m real sorry to say it, downright sore even… but I think I actually like you more.” Kara says with a shrug. Sam just grimaces. A bit petulant of her, but Kara isn’t able to stop herself from flipping Sam the bird with both hands before heading back out the gate. 

 

*

*

*

 

There’s a sharp knock on the side of the house where Lena’s hiding out to pull herself together. With an angry swipe at the tears forming in her eyes, she turns away from whoever’s come to find her.

“Go away, Sam. I just need a minute.” She calls out harshly.

“Umm, Aunt Lena?” Is the timid response. Lena whirls around. Ruby stands there, looking very timid with her hand on the wall of the house. Quickly giving her a plastered on smile, she finishes dabbing at her eyes as subtly as she can. She’s glad for the shadow this time of day casts between the side of the rental house and the hedge to their left. It makes a good sound barrier as well.

“Ruby, hey. I didn’t know it was you. Sorry for snapping.”

Ruby waves her off kindly, taking that as an invitation to step in closer. “Aunt Lena, are you alright?” She asks. It’s quite obvious Lena isn’t alright, even to a twelve year old. Even to this particular twelve year old, who’s way too smart for her own good. 

“I’ll be fine. I just needed a minute to collect myself.” She reassures. It’s not a total lie. The little crimp of worry holding Ruby’s features captive seems to smooth out a bit. Good , Lena thinks. “You know how Lilian can get.” The older woman jokes mildly. She’s got to get it together now. She’s had her little alone time, she needs to start playing the game again. Her breathing techniques have been helping immensely, and she doesn’t feel nearly as bad as she did when she was back at that table. She always feels so much better, can think clearer, when she’s not near Lilian. “I’ll be back to the table soon.” 

Ruby shakes her head, jamming her hands into her back pockets. “No point. No one’s sitting down anymore.” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

Ruby hesitates before cracking a small smile. The kid really needs to fix her poker face before Lena takes her to Vegas. They’ve got a couple years for that, though.

“I know that look.” Lena points out. “What happened? The table light on fire? My mother drop dead?” At that, Ruby snort laughs. 

“Noooo.” She says, trailing it out like kids her age do, turning the inflection up near the end of the word. “Mom dragged your date out front.” 

“What?!” Lena chokes, quickly making her way to the corner of the house to peek. Ruby tails her, laughing to herself. Little gossip hound.

“Don’t worry, they came back after a few minutes.” It’s true, Lena observes. Kara stands with Sam on the right side of the yard near the gate, looking around. Probably for her, Lena could guess. “You should have seen it though. Mom had steam coming out her ears.” Ruby whispers excitedly. Another glance around the corner confirms this as well. Kara and Sam definitely don’t look like they’re thrilled to see each other anymore. “I bet whatever they were talking about, it was juicy.”

Lena turns to her expectantly. Ruby just stares. “Well?” She prods. “Did you listen at the other side of the fence, or not?” Ruby groans.

“I tried, but I couldn’t make any of it out. Just bits and pieces.”

“Knew it.”

“Your date is mad about miss Lilian being a total B-word to you. Mom tried to tell her how things go around here.” 

“And what did Kara say to that?” Lena asks, already sort of knowing the answer. Briefly, she remembers Kara’s protective streak on St Patrick’s day, when she’d wanted to go back to the table and confront her sister and Sam about the whole lying thing. 

Ruby shrugs. “She said that was bullshit, and that mom wasn’t being a good friend to you.” Lena goes to look, but pauses at the sudden fall on Ruby’s face. “Aunt Lena, is my mom being a bad friend to you when she lets miss Lilian talk to you like she does?” 

The poor girl looks so uncertain all of the sudden, Lena’s heart almost breaks. Is Sam being a bad friend nowadays? Kinda. But Lena would rather die than let on to Ruby that her mother is anything other than a saint who can do no wrong. Plus, she doesn’t want Ruby getting any ideas about speaking up the next time Lilian acts like… well… Lilian. She grabs the girl by the shoulders, looking her dead on. 

“Your mother is my best friend in the entire world. She knows how my mother is. She helps me in ways you don’t really understand yet. Even if it’s not obvious, I know she’s always on my side. We both do our best to do right by each other.” 

The last words sting, because Lena doesn’t really believe in them right now with the whole Alex situation looming. This however, seems to appease the younger girl, and that’s about as in depth as Lena’s willing to get about her and Sam’s issues right now. It’s not up to a child to be burdened with the details of their complicated situation. Ruby may be exceptionally bright for her age, but that’s no excuse to treat her like someone older. She doesn’t need that from her aunt. Sam and Lena have worked too hard to give her the childhood they never got, and Sam can remember countless times adults made their problem hers as well.   

“Okay.” Ruby finally accepts. “But, just so you know, I’m totally on your side too.” Lena smiles down at her, chest bursting with fondness at the statement. She wonders why she’d even left the table.   

A pointed clearing of a throat has them both looking up. Kara stands at the entrance to the little hideout, gray suit jacket in hand. The fondness in Lena’s chest shifts a little to the left.

“Hey.” She greets softly. The afternoon sun backlights her a bit, catching on the frames of her glasses as she slips them off and into her shirt pocket. The slight breeze Ruby and Lena are sheltered from blows the strands that have come loose around her face this way and that. Kara pauses right where she’s at, seeming to gauge if her presence there interrupts something.

“Hey.” Lena answers back, a little breathless. She fights the instinct to smooth down her dress. Beside her, Ruby gives her a nudge, bouncing her eyebrows suggestively before flitting away past Kara with a grin.

Then it’s just the two of them, alone between a hedge and a house. The sound of Kara’s footsteps gets sucked away into the leafy greenery next to them. A little echo chamber that finally, finally helps her shoulders relax all the way down. Wordlessly, Kara holds up her jacket.

“You look a bit chilled.” She whispers with a kind smile. The accent whips thicker when Kara tries to speak softly. Lena thinks to fight the gesture, but she knows Kara would just push. And, she hadn’t realized it, but the shade is quite cold. She slips into it when Kara holds it up for her. Of course, it warms her instantly. The garment is a little big on her arms where Kara carries extra muscle, but in a nice way that makes the sleeves slip down over your hands. She thinks Ruby called that phenomenon ‘sweater paws’ once. Lena takes a slow, steady breath, her tongue pressing to the roof of her mouth. 

“So, I guess I should apologize for that whole thing back there.” A sharp, nervous laugh barks out of her that’s all too high to be casual. “I get it if you don’t want to… Um.” She pauses, having trouble getting the words out. Her mouth is all dry in that way right before a big business call. Suddenly the overwhelming itch to get her hands on a cigarette blooms somewhere in her canines. Kara waits, patient. “Look, Kara, I get it if you don’t want to do this with me anymore.” 

Kara’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “What?” She asks. Then it all sort of just erupts out of Lena, the jumble of words she’s been churning up the whole time she’s been left to herself, all the thoughts that have bottlenecked make their way past her teeth before she can bite them back.

“That whole thing was a mess, and I’m honestly just so embarrassed that you had to see that, and I know we tried to prepare for it, but Lilian can’t ever really be prepared for, so I understand if this whole holidate arrangement is too complicated for you.”

“Now wait a second-”

Lena barely hears her name when it comes out of Kara’s mouth, only stopping to take a breath before continuing. The anger is coming back now, marrying her embarrassment and having kids with it. “You know what? I don’t know why I thought bringing you would be a good idea! She just completely insulted you when all you were doing was sitting there and being handsome in your suit and she had the nerve -”

“Lena, I swear it’s-” 

“And honestly I don’t even know what you and Sam talked about but I’m sorry for whatever she said as well-”

“Lena! You have nothing to apologize for, I swear.” Kara finally cuts in. Her hands come to rest delicately on Lena’s arms, pinching at the sleeves to tug Lena a bit back and forth playfully in the ensuing stunned silence. Lena lets her mouth shut with an almost audible snap, considering what to say to that.  

“You didn’t ask to be around all this.” Lena finally lands on, reaching up to push Kara’s hands off gently. She can’t accept absolution just like that. Not when she’d run away like a child and left Kara there. Kara just catches her fingers, redirecting gently by bringing their held hands down to swing back and forth. Lena feels the warmth of Kara’s fingertips dance over the tops of her knuckles.   

“That’s the whole reason we started this thing, isn’t it? We agreed, no judgment.” Kara repeats. Lena hums at her, still unsure. “That tickles.” Lena looks down to their hands. She hadn’t realized that they were still holding each other. That she’d flipped Kara’s over to run her thumbs along the soft skin of the golfer’s palms. The profession of her date is evident when you look close. They don’t match, each having a different pattern of calluses; several at the base of the fingers and the side of the pinky on her left hand, a line of them along the second knuckles of her right. The yield of thousands of left handed golf swings. 

“I think you get more out of this than I do. I should have been more clear about what she  would be like.” 

“You were perfectly clear. What’s actually bothering you?” Kara asks. Lena sticks her tongue in her cheek, thoughtful. 

“I just… hate that she thinks she was right. About Andy.” Lena admits. “Furthermore, that she thinks it’s ok to throw that failure in my face when I bring a different date home nearly a year later. What if you had been someone I was seriously dating?”

Kara gives her a small smile. “I don’t think that would have scared me off.” Something in Lena’s stomach flutters around, a moth with a cricked wing. “Besides, if I had a brolly for every time my family was wrong about someone I dated, I’d have enough to cover all of Queensland in a pissing rainstorm.” Lena doesn’t even try to decode that monstrosity of a sentence, but it does earn her date a small smile. 

Kara’s victory seems short lived, however, when a far off look clouds the blue eyes, sort of like the one that had captured the blonde’s expression when Lena had caught her spaced out earlier. Kara’s fingers begin to twitch in hers, her feet shuffling in the pea gravel pathway along the side of the house. “I mean, I know plenty of people who’ve had their hearts crushed by people who pretended to care about them. Who pretended he liked their friends, and their hobbies, like golf, or karaoke…” The far off look gets just that much deeper as Kara trails off, and suddenly Lena gets the feeling that Kara’s not just making up an example. It’s the way her feet continue to shuffle, and the sad little exhale that leaves her mouth. “And even went so far as to put all this hockey stuff in their room, and hide those cheap little rubber bracelets in the strangest places...” At this point, Kara seems to catch herself, tips of her ears turning a bit red. “You know, maybe they even pretended to encourage them to start exploring their gender.”

Lena gives her a sympathetic look, but it goes unseen. She doubts it would have been received anyway, with the way Kara’s begun to completely avoid her eyes. Even though she’s past the point of thinking Kara’s pretending, Lena lets her go on without question. “And then one day, without warning, the bathroom’s cleared out, except for his toothbrush, which is so stupid, because what would anyone do with a toothbrush that isn’t theirs? And he’s…let himself be deported back to Canada just to get away from them.” 

The last words are spoken quietly. So quietly, that Lena has to lean in a bit to hear them. And they’re awful. Just awful. At least Andrea never fled the country to get away from her.

“Harsh.” She says, thumbs stroking along those calloused hands. 

“Harsh.” Kara agrees, voice a bit choked. With a shake of her head, she steps away, pulling her hands out of Lena’s completely. Suddenly the bubble bursts, and they both fix bright smiles for each other that Lena isn’t sure either of them really believes in turn. “But, yeah. People like that can really bugger up Easter for everybody.” 

Lena hums. “Yeah. I’m sure that happens to a lot of people.” 

There’s a commotion from the front of the house, the sound making its way through the yard and into their little alcove. Lena would recognize Lex’s booming laugh anywhere. Kara sucks air in between her teeth, clapping once and rubbing her hands together. “Sounds like your brother is here. Guess we better get back out there, huh?” 

Lena makes a show of rolling her eyes. “I suppose, if we absolutely have to.” It at least earns her a laugh from Kara, which she returns in a gentle huff. When they’re both done, they stare at each other. Something seems to pass between Kara’s eyes. The blue of them is frosty, not their usual warmth like the center of a flame, more like the inside of a cooler. For the first time, Lena’s not able to fully decode it. There’s a wall up, she realizes. Her Aussie is far away. When the taller of the two makes to turn away, Lena reaches out to pinch at the sleeve of her dress shirt, tugging her back just the slightest. An anchor to a ship in a storm. 

“Kara?” She asks. 

“Yes Lena?”

“If his toothbrush is at your place, he probably has horrendous dental hygiene.” She delivers in perfect deadpan. Light blooms in Kara’s smile as it cracks across her face like lightning. It’s beautiful.

When Kara’s finally recovered enough from laughing so hard that she can finally breathe again, they step out into the yard, and Lena feels more ready than when they first arrived. Especially when Kara links their pinkies together after shaking Lex’s hand, making Lilian snap her spoon in half across the yard. 

Notes:

Ok but lets be real, its a total rip off that Aussies get a four day weekend for Easter :(

Chapter 7

Notes:

Welcome back! Life got crazy, but best believe I'm still chipping away at this one. I tried something a little different in this chapter... hope you guys like time jumps and other character's POVs for once. Hope you enjoy!

Lena’s head is full of cotton. No, scratch that. Her head is full of bees, her mouth is full of cotton. Her mouth also tastes awful. It’s a taste she hasn’t tasted in the years since college. She smacks her mouth tentatively, immediately regretful. The tell tale wang of stale cigarette smoke clings to the back of her teeth, like she’d relapsed and had a drunk cig sometime last night. It pairs viciously with the leftover tang of bottom shelf tequila roiling over her tongue. Slowly blinking, she comes to… on the floor? Now that she’s becoming more aware, her back definitely tells her she’d slept on the floor.

With a new pounding in her head that gets harsher with each minute that passes, she tentatively cracks open her eyes, finding the familiar dips and shadows of her penthouse's ceiling directly above her. Familiar except the strand of streamers clinging to one of the blades of her ceiling fan, slowly rotating like a UFO. How those might have gotten up there, Lena has no idea. The stylish throw rug underneath her does little to stop her back from protesting when she shifts, as does the thin quilted throw pillow she has jammed under her neck. Last night comes back to her in flashes, photograph snapshots with their edges blurred like a polaroid still developing. Every pound of her heartbeat ricochets off her temporal lobe as she’s assaulted with hazy memories. The night had started off simple enough. She’d met Kara at the front gates of the food cart village, ready to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in a truly undignified, but nevertheless fun way with the annual Tacos and Tequila bar crawl event… Her parched mouth throbs, her body’s reminder of how dehydrated she is manifesting as a sudden overwhelming thirst for water gripping her like a hand on a throat. How much did they drink?

Looking down at herself, she realizes with a sudden dawning horror that how much they drank last night isn’t the most pressing of her current problems. In fact, her focus is now on figuring out when the hell she had taken off her top. 

Her thought process, however urgent, is abruptly jolted to a halt when a foot moves into her vision. Headache, blinding thirst, and sudden modesty forgotten in favor of finding out who the hell is on her couch, Lena bolts up onto her elbows in a panic. It’s Kara, looking very much worse for wear.

“Hello.” She grumbles. Based on voice alone, it sounds like she’s as hungover as Lena is. Based on looks… Not much better. Kara’s tall frame is sprawled the length of her statement piece couch, barely fitting the smaller size of it with how uncomfortable she looks. Her blonde hair is out of its usual tie, falling in a few tangles down her strong shoulders. Her bare shoulders, Lena notes with yet another wave of panic. Nearly Kara’s whole body is covered by the blanket that usually sits draped over the back of the couch, but if her foot is bare right above Lena’s face, and her shoulders are bare, and Kara’s grip on the edge of the blanket is iron clad like she’s terrified Lena’s going to snatch it away…

If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, it’s presumably Kara Danvers naked on her couch. Lena shuts her eyes tight. This cannot be happening. She did not wake up in various states of undress with her holidate and not remember how that happened.

“Hi.” She finally manages. Kara looks down at her, eyebrows furrowed and a pained look across her face. 

“You’re-you're... on the floor.” The blonde remarks. Kara's eyes are not on her face when she says it, which makes the dawning horror worse. You’re half naked on my couch, Is Lena’s immediate counter thought. One that almost makes it out of her mouth but instead pitfalls directly into the holding tank of her stomach to join whatever alcohol is clearly still in there.  

Her voice really does sound terrible, Lena observes. All rough and grumbly like a thunderstorm on a hot night. Not at all sexy or mind blowingly hot in a way that makes Lena want to do a body shot right off her-

“Yes, I… remember falling off the couch,” Lena recalls suddenly that she’s in some kind of conversation right now, and she should probably be acting as normal as she possibly can, given the extremely dire circumstances they find themselves in. “And it just seemed like a lot of work to get back up.” She needs to find her clothes. She needs to find her clothes and Kara’s clothes and- 

"Kara?" Lena asks sharply. Kara, who's eyes are definitely not looking at her face, dart up from her chest guiltily.  

Her train of thought is once again frozen at the new look Kara’s giving her from the couch. Not exactly a grimace, more of a cross between a shrug and a wince. Could it be a touch of tell tale pink dusting Kara’s ears? No, it's the crimson color of her entire face. “So... I guess we might have…” Kara lets go of the blanket with one hand to gesture between them, making another face. 

“We didn’t.” Lena abruptly cuts in. She would definitely remember having sex with her holidate. Standing up quickly now, pulse going fast and weak like a rabbit’s with the panic she’s been feeling since she woke up. Both their gazes go straight to Lena’s bottom half when she stands up. Lena with barely suppressed shock, Kara with half awake dumbfoundedness. 

“You’re wearing my underwear.” Kara points out, unhelpfully. Lena looks down, as if she can will it not to be true. The soft cotton stretching over her curves isn’t the familiar bikini style she’s used to, but a much softer kind of fabric with a thick elastic band at the top and an empty pouch over the fly. They’re boxers. Presumably Kara’s boxers. She’s wearing Kara’s boxers. Kara wears boxers? They’re so much warmer and comfier than any women’s underwear she’s ever tried on, and that’s saying something when money is no object for her spending habits. 

“Well, that doesn’t mean anything!” Lena decides out loud. “It probably got cold in the night, after…” Then she spots it, on the edge of the coffee table in front of them. “After my… underwear fell off?” Kara, who's face is still beaming red, seems to be having to use a frankly herculean effort to stop looking at her chest as she talks. Snatching her pair of undergarments up in a jerky motion, Lena makes for the other chair in the living room, standing behind it for a quick change back into her own familiar undergarments. Maybe then Kara can focus on something other than her tits, she thinks. Not completely without a little pride, though. The chilly air of her apartment hits her thighs as she quick changes them out. With a shiver, Lena peers over the top of the chair to scope out if any other clothes are laying around. 

“Come on, you must be able to tell somehow?” Kara calls after her, seemingly recovered a bit.  

“Tell how?!” Lena shouts back, incredulous. A ridiculous question from the idiot on her couch. 

“I don’t know? Bloody hell. Umm…" Kara wonders, dragging her hands down her face. "How much did we drink?” 

Lena rolls her eyes. “Well, what do you remember?” When had it gotten so cold in here? It’s not like May in Chicago is unbearably hot. Surely she doesn’t really keep it this cold in here. Then again, she doesn’t usually sleep half naked on her own floor.

Kara seems to give up on parsing out the most pressing mystery of their relationship to date, not seeming to be treating this situation with as much seriousness as Lena thinks it should be. With a gust of relief, and a quick thank you to her past self from earlier in the week, Lena snatches her discarded robe off the front of the chair, quickly wrapping herself up in it. It makes the temperature just bearable enough to refocus.  

 

*

*

*

LAST NIGHT, CHICAGO, 4:30PM

 

The night was already getting a bit balmy when Kara stepped past the balloon arch into the food truck court to meet Lena. Going to this kind of bash had been Lena’s idea, and Kara was excited for a whole host of reasons. 

Firstly, because Lena was superb at picking events. She’d sent the ticket link over to Kara for review earlier in the week, and the whole idea of it had been a smash. She had been surprised Lena had gotten tickets on such short notice, but then again, she’s stopped wondering how Lena gets into places after Easter, seeing the influence of wealth and connections on trivial things like parties around the city. Booze and mexi food? Kara had already liked the sound of it on face value. But the live music and color light show had her more than interested. 

Second, because Kara was very much ready to let loose tonight. Work had been shagging the piss out of her this week. Two of her private lessons had canceled on Monday, and her favorite pair of golf gloves had finally busted their seams on Tuesday. For the rest of the week as a favor to a regular client of hers, she’d agreed to teach their young brat of a nephew the basics of golf over the course of three lessons. Kara loves children, and usually she’d be glad to offer little tike lessons every now and then, but this one had been an absolute terror. She would have ditched the kid after they took a whack at her leg with a club on purpose the second time, if not for the fact that this particular client was extremely, obscenely wealthy. As in, wears a watch worth her yearly salary, wealthy. Big fish, and all that. Had to treat the little ankle biter like a perfect cherub to avoid fishing in another pond.

Lastly, Kara is excited to see Lena, like she always finds she is. They had been texting. 

For the occasion, Kara had worn her best date night outfit. A pair of good, non-golfing khakis, her white cotton button up with scarlet macaws checkering it, and her good lace up vans. She’d opted for using a few strips of trans tape instead of a binder, even one of her old ones that’s a little less effective from constant use but more breathable as a result. Tape doesn’t get her as flat of a chest, but she finds she doesn’t mind terribly in this outfit. Taping had been a godsend with her sensory issues this summer, especially when she’d been working up a sweat in the driving range. There’s nothing quite as freeing as feeling secure up top, but not having ribs encircled by another layer of hot material. The first few applications were clumsy and far between when she first started, especially since she didn’t really feel the urge to bind everyday. But the first time she felt her shirt hit her back with nothing between it but sweat while knowing the front of her didn’t flag to anyone felt like flying. Plus, using tape tonight means she can tap into that more elusive gender euphoria that she gets when she can unbutton a few more buttons on her shirt, like guys do.

On a more private note, she’d chosen to wear her comfortable packing underwear, even though she doesn’t ever pack. She’d tried it out of personal curiosity more than dysphoria and found herself completely indifferent to it, with or without. But the underwear had been extremely plush, and sometimes just knowing she could pack if she wanted is enough to give her a boost of confidence.

The food trucks are assembled in a courtyard in a large horseshoe shape, each one flashing different menus from trendy chalkboard to ones written in sharpie marker on strips of cardboard. The sound of all the guests that are already here is astounding, with people of all legal ages laughing and drinking already. Everyone’s wearing memorabilia, displaying the flag of Mexico and wearing bright colors in white and green and red. Groups of women gather together, laughing brightly and holding their phones aloft to take photos with margaritas raised high. A circle of white guys near the entrance egg each other on as one of them tries to drink out of a sombrero. It’s not exactly the most culturally sensitive bash on the planet, and it’s loud enough that Kara thinks to put in her earplugs now, but the comfortability of her outfit staves off the overload. The amazing smell emanating from the trucks hits her with a shift in the wind, a grin widening across her face as her stomach rumbles. Then there’s a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey. Oh! I thought you’d be wearing your earplugs. Glad you found it ok.” Lena greets casually when Kara turns around. She’s beautiful in a way that makes Kara’s molars ache in her mouth. She’s wearing a cheery red blouse, with white polka dots freckling it. She has her hands shoved casually into the back pockets of faded mom jeans, biting her nice teeth into a scarlet lipstick that matches her top. A flash of green light sweeps over them, neon like limeade. Kara swallows thickly, ignores how bad she wants to kiss Lena in greeting, and gives her a smile.

“Hey there, stranger.” She grins. Lena’s bitten lip morphs into a smirk, teeth slowly releasing it in an attention consuming drag as she hums out a laugh. Green eyes flick up then down once, appraising her outfit. A bright orange light brushes over the ground in front of them as the live music plays on from the actual mariachi band in the corner. Lena’s eyes get all crinkled at the ends when she laughs like that, Kara’s been noticing. Kara stops breathing, digging her nails into the palm of her hand to stop herself from thinking… those thoughts.

Unlike Alex’s current opinion on the situation, Kara’s not a complete idiot. She can tell what it feels like when she’s deeply attracted to someone. It just so happens that her current someone is Lena. A someone who, it has been mutually established, could not be more off limits. And that’s fine. It’s fine, really. Because Kara is having a grand time with her anyway every calendar holiday. 

“Come on,” Lena nods behind her, sticking a finger into the front pocket of Kara’s pants to tug her towards the dining area. “I’ve got us a table and a first round.” Kara’s thigh feels like it’s shot with electricity where she can feel Lena’s slender pointer finger in her pocket, and she lets herself be led away. 

 

***

LAST NIGHT, CHICAGO, 5:30PM   

 

The second shot burns as it slips down Kara’s throat, both her and Lena’s glasses making twin thuds as they get slammed back onto the wooden picnic table. Their plates lay demolished in front of them in a stack, napkins and plastic utensils crushed up and placed on top of each. Another streak of light covers them, mango colored and flashing just like the ones at the Skyfall party in January as the band plays on. Cheers erupt all around them as the song comes to an end, and Kara gulps at her salt rimmed margarita as a chaser. It seems like the music has just begun, despite it not having let up for the first hour. 

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Lena prods next to her. Kara glances at her, licking her lips for the salt. How had they gotten into this mortifying conversation? It had started as a simple game of would you rather, and spiraled from there. This is what friends do, right? She’d like to believe they can at least call themselves friends now, with how regularly they text. Things with Lena don’t seem to be changing on her end as far as shifting their dynamic.   

“Probably because it’s none of your business.” She shoots back. Lena rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Come on!” She urges. “Were there props involved?” She teases. At this suggestion, Kara huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Costumes?!” Lena asks further, ignoring how Kara shakes her head and takes another healthy sip of her drink. Beside her, struck by some kind of idea that’s already making Kara wince before it’s out of her mouth, “An invited guest?” Lena shimmies her shoulders at that one, bouncing her eyebrows.

“God, please stop.” Kara whines. She dips forward until her forehead presses against the table before springing back up. The maneuver makes her head feel all floaty, especially when the lights around them switch to bathe the courtyard in a blueberry hue, dusting the side of Lena’s face with the colors of a ballpoint pen. It reminds Kara of Skyfall, how the part lights had lit up their cozy booth during their first night together. “Just because you don’t have a sex life of your own, doesn’t mean you get to pilfer through the awful memory of me walking in on my first roommate.”  

Lena’s mouth falls open in offense, and Kara has to hide a naughty little smirk behind the rim of her drink. In front of them, the trumpet player in the band takes charge. “I have a sex life.” Lena argues weakly over the solo, popping a chip loaded in salsa into her mouth and biting down with a crunch. Kara narrows her eyes at her, blood red light sweeping over both of them before strobing to purple. Lena carefully avoids her gaze, pretending to find something interesting on the table as she chews.

“Really?” Kara asks, genuinely surprised. Something in her chest jerks like a transmission going cactus. “When’s the last time you had sex?”      

Ever since they struck up their little deal, Kara hasn’t been tempted to go on a blind date or swipe on any apps in months. Why would she, when they’ve crafted a perfect little bubble of practicality and… friendship? One Lena certainly seems to be enjoying. Kara’s not sure how to describe it, but there’s a different air about her now. She seems lighter, more carefree than she had on St. Patrick’s day and especially Easter. She’d asked her about how everything’s been going when they sat down, and Lena had filled her in over tacos. 

“The whole Sam thing really has me thinking, you know? It’s not right that I only have her as a support system. I mean,” She makes a face at Kara, “You saw how things are with my family. Sorry about that trainwreck, by the way.” At the mention of the Sam situation, Kara had become a bit nervo. It’s been hard keeping track of who knows what, and who does know, but asked her not to tell the others involved what she knows about who knows… 

It’s been a lot for the both of them, Kara supposes. Different reasons, of course, but the situation is well on its way to affecting them both more than they would like. Something, Kara thinks a bitter thought, both Alex and Sam know is affecting the people closest to them. Kara had asked Alex a thousand times why they still insist on secrecy. Alex always just rounds it out to not wanting to destabilize Ruby, and that Sam has her own reasons for not telling Lena. Asking Lena why she won’t just confront Sam and tell her that she knows about her and Alex doesn’t really go anywhere either, since Kara would rather Sam not let slip that she’s related to Clark as they hash it all out. 

Kara had nodded along while sipping her drink as Lena went into depth about how she’s been filling her personal life with things she cares about in wake of it all. Her lab work and her investments in local breweries especially. Kara had been quite interested in that last bit. Kara had then filled her in on how excited she is about going to Australia in just a little less than a month.

Given all the newfound conversational momentum, it’s not completely unexpected that it took this turn. Lena might have found someone else to keep her company in the in between nowadays. Despite this newfound lightness, however, Lena seems embarrassed by the sex question. It hits Kara now that there’s a very real chance that she’s the only one Lena has been dating. If you can call it that. And they aren’t having sex… so if Lena hasn’t been getting any… Maybe something about it doesn’t make Kara feel completely unhappy at the idea. Even though it should. 

“When’s the last time you had sex?” Lena deflects. Kara squints into the middle distance, acting like she’s thinking hard. Just to Aussie nettle.

“Thursday.” 

“Thursday?” Lena sputters, taking a deep chug of her own margarita. She doesn’t bother licking the salt off the rim, to Kara’s disappointment. “With who?” She asks. There’s something funny in her tone that Kara finds interesting, but can’t quite nail it down. It couldn’t be jealousy, could it? That just wouldn’t make any sense.

“Umm, it was that cocktail waitress, on St. Patrick’s day.” Kara answers. Lena’s mouth does a little twist, and in turn, so does Kara’s stomach.

“You were with me on that day.” Lena says. It’s not exactly a question, but Kara gets the sense there might have been a right and wrong way to go about answering. Her tone is definitely strange, but maybe it’s just the way Lena’s trying to talk over the music blaring in all directions. The shots are hitting Kara harder now, despite the full meal they ate as they sat down. The details are fuzzy when she tries to recall it.

“Yeah, I was, but she just kind of…” And for some absurd reason, she doesn’t really want to tell Lena this anymore. Something inside her tells her it’s a bad idea. The idea of Lena thinking about her sleeping with the cocktail waitress on St. Patrick's day suddenly feels loaded. “She sort of just hopped into my Uber?” Kara says with a shrug. She tries to not feel weird about it. Why wouldn’t she tell Lena this kind of thing? Isn’t this well within the terms of their arrangement? Why would Lena have a problem with this anyway? There’s a long moment where they just look at each other, Lena staring at her with that strange unreadable expression that definitely doesn’t look happy with her, and in that moment, Kara realizes that she has answered wrong. Very wrong. But then everyone around them starts a chant of Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot! 

Without another word, they grab for the next round in front of them, and throw them back. Lena’s glass hits the table again first, and Kara gets that all too familiar feeling that she should have paid better attention. 

 

*

*

* 

LAST NIGHT, CHICAGO, 5:30PM. 8:00 AM MELBOURNE TIME, AUSTRALIA, 

 

Sam reclines on the couch, trying to roll the stiffness out of her neck after the long day. Volunteer work at the community garden down the street after dropping Ruby off at her weekend soccer club has her wishing she had stopped by somewhere for dinner on the way home as she waits for the call to light up her phone. She doesn’t have to wait long before Alex’s name pops up on her screen, sending her phone vibrating an inch away. She glances at the time. It’s like clockwork. She shouldn’t be surprised.  

“Isn’t it Sunday there?” She says in a way of greeting. “You really are incapable of sleeping in, aren’t you? Kara wasn’t kidding.” The sound of a coffee mug hitting a stone countertop buzzes through her speakers. 

“G’day, Sam.” Alex’s voice answers warmly from across the long distance. Some of the warmth of it pools in Sam’s chest, and she holds onto it for as long as she can. “How was working on a Saturday?”  

Sam huffs out a laugh, closing her eyes and accessing a memory instead of answering right away. The feeling of the plane descending into the airspace above Melbourne when traveling for work last year. A chance meeting in a hotel bar with one of her most prevalent childhood crushes spiraling into a one night stand spiraling into a week long date and plans to stay in touch. The feeling of warm, southern hemisphere sun on her face through a cozy apartment window. The smell of coffee brewing.  

“It was fine. Those garden beds I helped build are finally getting rounds of compost. How’s your morning?”

“Not much to do on a Sunday round here.” Alex murmurs, sounding like she’s shuffling around her kitchen. “Thought I’d go for a bit of a run. Distract myself from missing you too awful much.”  

It’s said with a laugh, but Sam finds she can’t quite manage to laugh with her. “I miss you too.” She says. There’s nothing particularly gut wrenching about the statement. They say it to each other every time they call. But it’s gotten harder to ignore. There’s a comfortable lapse in silence that follows it, with more sounds of shuffling on Alex’s end. Danvers sisters are never still for long. “You must be excited to see Kara. Lena says she hasn’t stopped talking about her June visit since Easter.” She drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper; “Apparently they text now. Regularly.”  

“Oh, do they now?” Alex asks, sharp and calculating. “You know, Kara tells me the same thing. That Lena and her text. She also insists that they’re just mates.”

“Yeah, soul mates maybe. Just friends my ass.” Sam says immediately. “You should have seen how upset she got at Easter. Almost bit my head off.” Alex laughs, the sound of it mixing with the brief sound of running water hitting the walls of a sink. Sam can see it even if they aren’t on FaceTime. How it would all play out. The way Alex would put her cup into the sink after finishing the last few sips, one of the blue ones with the spiral handles. The way her socked feet would move through the kitchen to the living room to continue their conversation. It's been amazing how much she can know about a person when most of their relationship has been long distance. The few weeks spent together in the same place has been in either her and Ruby’s home, or Alex’s old apartment, which she moved out of after they took a break. She hasn’t even gotten to see her new house yet. “But we can’t really press it, can we? Not with the way we’re running around.”

“Definitely not.” Alex agrees. There’s a pause. The pause is different, Sam notes, and a tightness in her chest appears. “You know, Kara used to be real on my arse about coming clean, but for some reason she’s backed off a bit. Do you think… I mean, babe, is it possible Lena already knows about us?” 

Sam closes her eyes, trying to ignore the sudden swell of panic that threatens to work its way under her skin. “I don’t know.” She answers honestly. “She’s not stupid. I haven’t exactly been subtle, and she knows me better than anybody. I know she knows something. Something she probably assumes I should have told her by now.” Guilt like a belt lashes at her ribs at the mention of Lena. “But… I haven’t even told Ruby.” 

“I know, but-” 

“Alex. Please. I can’t. Not yet.” 

The line goes silent again, and Sam tries very hard not to panic at how they’d gone from a lighthearted conversation dotted with pining to a tense minefield. It’s not lost on both of them that Sam saying something of that nature is what had led to Alex breaking things off. 

They had both agreed, when Alex had come to visit after receiving her valentine, that they would try again, but only if Sam saw a future with Alex in Australia. Sam, for the first time in a long time, had forced herself to say exactly what she wanted. That being with Alex in Australia was the only thing she saw for her future, and anything else would have felt fundamentally wrong at that point. Alex had agreed, alluding to the fact that she had bought her house after their break up because, on some level, she had desperately hoped to live in it with Sam and Ruby. From that point, they’d been back on like a house fire, taking their relationship more seriously than they had before. Regular phone calls, planned monthly trips to visit, and a solid plan to tell Ruby.

Easier said than done. There were work schedules to juggle, visa applications to consider, air miles to burn up… They’d both agreed it would be easier to wait until the end of the American school year. Then Sam would tell her daughter first, then everyone else that mattered to her in this life, that she wanted someone more than anything. And to get them, and keep them, she’d have to move to another country. Something that felt like both the most selfish and unselfish thing she’d ever ask for in her entire life. How could she justify uprooting her daughter’s entire life here, to move her into a house in a country she’d never visited before, with someone she’d only introduced her to twice? Not even as a partner, but as a ‘visiting business contact’ ? 

Then again, when did the line between Sam, the mother, cross over the line of Sam, the fully established person with wants and needs? After twelve years of choosing not to date seriously, of prioritizing Ruby, would it be fair to ask for this one thing? This one person? This crazy jump for their family? It had all happened so fast. They’d fallen so fast. Further, Sam felt quite content during her visits to Australia. The culture there seemed, not exactly slower or less stressful than corporate America, but presented more life balance along with it. Less of the hustle and grind mentality, and more focus on working as a collective to get out and enjoy life. Australia, while always in a drought of some sort, had weather that she enjoyed. Australia had wildlife that she knew Ruby would love, even if she knew her daughter would miss the things that lived in Illinois. The more time she and Alex spent together, the more it became obvious to the both of them that they complemented each other in a multitude of ways. They had just had the bad luck of being born in different places. Is there a way to explain that to a twelve year old? Should it matter? And her reason for not telling Lena… she couldn’t bear to explain to anyone. Not even Alex. Not out loud. So Sam had just let Alex assume her reason not to tell Lena had been because of Ruby accidentally finding out.  

The monument of the decision had been a big reason why Alex had called things off with her before February, and anything she perceives as hesitancy from Sam about the decision since has led to unbearable bits of tension in their conversations. Like this one.  

“Are you excited for Kara’s visit?” Sam asks awkwardly.     

“Aw, yeah I’m jammed!” Alex exclaims, clinging to the out she’s given. Her tone is a mix of genuine excitement and a relief at the topic change. “Kara’s going to raid my ice box and eat all my grub for two weeks straight as she drags me from BFE to Canberra. Pray for my liver and lower back.”

At this, Sam lets out a loud guffaw of a laugh. “Oh, come on, I know you’re excited. Being social is good for you.”  

“Ugh. You sound like Kara. I’m plenty social.”

“And now you sound like Lena.”

 

*

*

*

LAST NIGHT, CHICAGO, ????PM

 

Lena is drunk. Kara is drunk. Everyone around them is drunk. And so, everything is fine. Except it’s not. Because Lena is pissed. The metallic shing! sound of the metal rings of a photo booth curtain sliding on its rod punches the air. Lena finds the sound deftly reminiscent of the sound of someone drawing a knife. 

“What happened to Holidate rule number one?” She slings over her shoulder. “I believe it was, ‘ no judgements’ ?” She asks, spinning around to face Kara as she exits the photo booth after. As the taller of the two, and perhaps the slightly drunker one, Kara whacks her giant Aussie forehead on the top of the booth’s frame before escaping, rubbing at her forehead with a wince. Lena tries, and fails, to not find it extremely justified. To her further intoxicated annoyance, Kara just shrugs easily at her, hands in the pockets of her jeans. 

“Yes, you’re right,” She starts off, wandering back to their little saved table. Lena glares daggers at the back of Kara’s stupid head. Her tall, blonde, stupid head. “I’m sorry. Your lack of a sex life is none of my business.” 

Lena purses her lips together, sitting down in the seat next to Kara. Perhaps too close for this conversation. Lena’s drunk thoughts wander as she looks around, and after a second or two she’s content to let it be. Just when Lena thinks Kara’s going to drop this, she smirks into the salt rim of her new margarita, igniting her ire again. “I just feel sorry for you, that’s all.” 

Lena scoffs at that out right, focusing in on the topic like one does when they’ve had a few. Kara’s eyes dance about her face, and the back of her neck feels hot. Which just makes her angry all over again. “Oh, you feel sorry for me?” She asks, tongue feeling thick in her mouth. Kara makes a show of jutting out her lower lip, nodding sincerely as if Lena’s dry spell genuinely concerns her. Lena glares at her, chewing the straw of her strawberry margarita, trying to think of her next words. They’d come easier if Kara would stop looking at her with those damn blue eyes. And scooting closer to her on the bench. Had she scooted closer? They should probably find water.

“I know exactly what you’re doing.” Lena steals out. Kara blinks at her drunkenly, eyes trained intently on her mouth. A baby deer with mischievous intent. A low hum rumbles out of Kara’s body in question, and just about every bone in Lena’s body vibrates to it. 

“And what exactly am I trying to do?” Kara asks innocently as she bites at the straw of her own drink. A sharp exhale, pure frustration, another sip of marg, and a straightened back is what springboards the next words right out of Lena’s mouth with confidence. 

“You’re trying to get in my head and freak me out so we end up having sex.” She flings, pointing right in Kara’s face accusatory. Kara shakes her head in denial, leaning into Lena’s space while she does it. That smug grin won’t leave her face, and Lena’s in danger of doing something incredibly stupid to wipe it off.

“I don’t want to have sex with you!” She argues, words slurring. Lena gives that statement a healthy eye roll.

“Right, no, how could I forget?” She asks, voice coming out in mock aloofness. “You don’t find me attractive.” The air quotes she shoves in Kara’s face make it obvious enough that she’s recalling their first conversation in the mall, when Kara had asked her to Skyfall. If Kara can play dumb, so can she. If Kara wants to try and angle some kind of one night stand out of her, out of boredom or of having no other options for tonight, Lena’s not going to let her forget that she knows the truth here. 

Even though, admittedly, Lena may or may not find that idea incredibly tempting. Lena may or may not find Kara incredibly tempting. Which still embarrasses her to no end in the privacy of her own mind.

Kara sits up straighter, challenge burning in her eyes like lit cobalt. There’s a pause that seems to stretch on forever as Kara raises her drink to her mouth, staring at Lena all the while. 

“ That’s not what I said.” Kara says simply, gesturing with her drink before taking another sip. Lena’s drunk brain recalls the differences in words only briefly. Kara had said something along the lines of, ‘maybe you’re not attractive to me’, but that argument falls into the category of potato potahto, tomato tomahto. Same meaning in the end.

“Whatever.” Lena shrugs, turning away and swishing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s your loss.”

“Sure it is.”

“It is! I’m fantastic in bed.”

“Right. Developed early, handjobs at twelve, yada yada yada.”  

Kara smiles smugly, Lena glares. The chorus of shot! Shot! Shot! returns, and before she can do something stupid, like stick her tongue down Kara’s throat, Lena harshly shoves the next shot into Kara’s hand before downing hers. 

The rest of the night blurs and spins after that, going black in between hazy memories of colorful lights, mariachi music, and the warmth of Kara pressed to her side. 

 

*

*

*

 

Kara blinks dumbly up at the scene before her, dome absolutely pounding. Lena looks pretty upset still about how they woke up. At least, her face does. Kara on the other hand, is using all her willpower not to chunder all over her nice carpet and form words after seeing Lena without a top on. She’s fairly certain she hasn’t been this hungover since her going away bash in Oz, before her big move to the states. Her and Alex had thrown up the whole day after. In short, she’s not so bothered about the whole, might have shagged each other situation. Other fish to fry. Instead, as she takes in the downright bonzer surroundings in the sparsely decorated penthouse, a new rankle takes up. If Lena has been this rich the whole time, why did she buy half the shots last night? This place is swish new digs. Lena could have afforded all those plonk shots they ordered.  

“There’s no forensic evidence, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Lena comments before chucking her boxers right at Kara’s face. Kara catches them quickly, finding herself once again in the current moment as she scrambles for her shirt on the ground to her left. While she shimmies her bare arse into the underoos, the urge to apologize for how they got here cranks around in her stomach. This is not a situation Kara often finds herself in, despite what Alex must think of what she gets up to. But since neither of them really remember how exactly they got here last night, perhaps it would be in bad taste. There's no proof that anything happened. She finds herself very privately relieved to no longer be naked from the waist down, even if she's currently sweating booze from every part of her skin. Even more so, there's the bonus that she hadn’t decided to use the ambiguously shaped foam packer insert that her gender affirming underwear had come with to put in the pocket of the fly. Not that wearing underwear with the potential to pack is something she’s ashamed of, but she can’t help but think of how embarrassing it would have been for Lena to realize that information about her by waking up in the wrong pair of underdaks with a foam bulge. She hopes she isn't blushing. 

Now that she's had a fair amount of time to wakey wakey, Kara starts to join Lena in panicking about their situation. Just a titch. She hasn't been able to keep many friends from these kinds of situations. The only one that comes to mind is Winn. But they had just kissed, and he had kissed her first, and even then they both took some time apart for a while before being mates again didn't feel awkward. 

Kara very much does not want this thing between them to be awkward because of something they didn't do. Or... Probably didn't do. The underwear was pretty damning evidence.  

“I’m telling you, we didn’t. One of us for sure would be able to tell.” Lena offers, sounding quite sure of herself from the other side of the room. She steps out from around the chair in some kind of silk robe that ties around her waist in a way that has Kara’s mouth going incredibly dry. It does absolutely nothing to wash the absolute vision of Lena's skin from the front of her mind. The constellation of freckles that had gone down her neck, the vast expanse of her chest, the soft silky smoothness of her skin... This woman is trying to kill her dead. But it does however offer up two confirmed truths. Kara is positive after seeing Lena in just a bra and that robe that she would remember sleeping with an absolute stunner like her. There’s not enough alcohol on earth to block out how perfect that would have been. Unfortunately, the second thing this confirms is that Kara continues to think of her as the most beautiful woman on earth. So she finds she’s more than happy to go along with Lena's confidence that nothing had happened.  

“Sweet. Let's go with that.” Kara says, sliding her eyes shut.  

“Great.” Lena nods. “Coffee?” Lena’s movements are jerky and hurried as she rushes past to the direction of the kitchen, not waiting for an answer. Kara gives her one anyway.

“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll take it black.” Even though Kara has never drank coffee black in her entire life. Just the thought of drinking anything makes her mouth water and her stomach pitch, but it’s clear that Lena is freaking out about the situation, and Kara would rather take the out for both their sake rather than let Lena dwell. Dwelling would just lead to more panic, and panic might lead to something horrible, like Lena calling off their arrangement. 

Plus, she never minds sticking around a little longer before they part ways. 

Moments later they’re both drinking coffee in a kitchen so clean and white marbled that it looks like it came out of a catalog. Every sip threatens to come hurling back up her throat like an inker out of a sushi joint, so Kara distracts herself with taking in more of the surroundings. The eating room sure does crack up. Surly Lena must have a cleaning bloke hop in to shine up the place. The stove looks tinned and buffed like a twenty cent, matching the other silver appliances that gleam like the micro and the sink. An unblemished tea towel hangs off the handle of the oven, no tomato stains or smudges. It matches the plain looking utensils in a jar by the stove knobs. There's not much that makes it look lived in at all. If she hadn't known better, She'd have thought Lena just moved in. Kara wonders if all big fish live like this, or if Lena just takes a particular disinterest in the common folk pastime of eating. Lena watches Kara shyly as she looks around, pawing at surfaces for non-existent dust. The only indication that someone might live here is the children’s drawings pinned all over the fridge, which makes Kara smile as she stops in front of it. There’s a few old ones, yellow with age, chipped and faded crayon portraits. Those ones clearly say Ruby on the top right corner next to the bright dandelion sun. But the other ones are much fresher. The name Connor is written in a surprisingly neat scrawl next to a scribbled in outline of the Batmobile. Kara leans against the counter to observe them as Lena pauses to fish a bottle out of a cabinet. It shuts with what normal people would think was a soft bang, but to two freshly hungover, it sounds more like someone putting a bucket over their head and hitting it with a cricket bat. Lena curses to herself, getting a glass of water from the tap and shaking some pills into her hand to take them. She tosses the bottle to Kara, who desperately shakes out three and takes them with a healthy swig of her brew. Knocking back two of the pills and now double fisting both the bevies, Lena slides over to stand next to Kara. A glance shows the other woman looks pale. A thin sheen of sweat clings to her face, the blood drained out of it. They are going to absolutely chunder up their stomachs later. Kara turns back to the fridge, eye catching on one of the newer drawings near the ice dispenser. 

“Two big orange suns and a stick figure with a blue river next to it?” Kara guesses out loud. Lena hums a gentle denial. 

“Two oranges,” Lena corrects, “and the water Connor uses to rinse his mouth out after he eats them. He can’t stand the pulp.” Lena looks like she’s enjoying the memories of whenever Connor had done this, but suddenly Kara is far away. A question that’s not even a question yet forms in her mind. When she speaks, she tries to keep her voice even.

“Does Connor always rinse his mouth out after he eats oranges?”

Lena quirks an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, why?” She asks, taking a sip of some kind of fancier version of the coffee she’d made for the both of them. 

“It’s just funny is all. My cousin did that too when he was his age…” Kara trails off, lost in thought. “He’s also allergic to peaches.” She doesn’t know why she says it. Clark coming up between them is something she should be actively avoiding. But the drawings had piqued her interest, being the only clue into Lena's mind in this place besides the tasteful furniture and general cleanliness, and Kara had wanted to share something. With the next words out of Lena’s mouth, however, that dream of never mentioning her cousin again is smashed to one thousand pieces. 

“Hey, so is Connor.” Lena hums thoughtfully, turning away to organize the sugar packets again. “What’s your cousin’s name again?”

Kara’s heart takes a plunge right into the back of her throat to choke her, and the room starts spinning for more reasons than heavy alcohol consumption. “Shoot, I’ve… I’ve got to be going. Thanks for the coffee, Lena. See you on mother’s day?” She stammers out.

It takes until Kara steps onto the curb outside of Lena’s building for Clark to answer her phone call. 

“Hey, Clark?” She asks when he finally does, heart threatening to explode. 

“Yeah Kara?” The strong but surprised voice of her cousin drifts into her ears. He sounds concerned. He bloody well should be, if she's right. Please, god, let her be wrong. Let it be a coincidence. Let the damn ankle biter be allergic to whatever he wants to. It's just two stupid coincidences with fruit. Nothing the matter. It doesn't mean anything. Not even if the kid she met on Easter attached to Lex Luthor's hip was a dead ringer for Clark at that age. Not even if Clark seemed personally effected by the break of the LuthorCorp scandal. "Umm, have I lost you? Is everything alright, Kara?" Clark tries again. Distantly, Kara thinks she can hear Lois in the back asking who he's on the phone with.

“The answer to this question better be no.” Kara warns. The tone of her voice must have him spooked, because Clark waits patiently on the other end of the line while she takes a deep breath. It still takes a few seconds of hemming and hawing to force the awkward question out of her mouth. It's definitely never something she's thought to ask, but in hindsight, why hadn't she? With the way he acted after the scandal broke out, after he'd published the article and blew up the lives of people for better or for worse, why hadn't Kara considered his reasonings for coming down so hard on it? “Clark, have you ever donated sperm to LuthorCorp?”

Notes:

Dun Dun DUNNNNN!!!!!! Wonder how that'll go over... any predictions? Thanks to everyone who's still invested in this little story! This one was quite fun to write

Chapter 8: The space between

Notes:

I'm back! (Two years later it feels like... sorryyyyyy.) How about a little trip to Australia and some classic one percenter sibling dynamics as an apology? Also, AI DOESN'T BELONG IN FANFIC!!!!! Jsyk

Kara had, at some point in the next few weeks of texting back and forth, insisted on Lena and her following each other on Instagram. Lena had resisted at first, insisting that she wasn’t even in control of what was posted on her official account. It had finally gained a magical blue check mark, and as a result, had been run by a PR firm ever since last year that Lilian had hired. Of course. Kara had sent a pouting emoji in response to that logic that had frankly been beneath her, in Lena’s opinion. Lena had insisted that if someone with a blue check mark followed a relatively unknown golfer for Chicago, the rumor mill would fly unchecked in a day. Kara had at least seen the logic of that, but Lena had thrown her a bone and created a blank account for fun, exchanging follows that night but personally vowing that she’d never stalk through Kara’s photos. 

When she finally caves, it’s on a night later in June. Kara’s texts have been a bit slow in a way that usually indicates she’s busy with work, but after having a fairly lovely game night with Sam and Ruby where her best friend had kept checking a phone that never lit up, Lena could only assume the two siblings were busy catching up in Australia. Settling into the pillows on her couch with a blanket and one of her more luxurious brands of scotch, she hits the little buttons that take her to Kara’s account for the first time. She’d been right about her theory. It seems from the recent photos that Kara has been posting since she landed in Melbourne yesterday morning, and there’s a glowing ring of color around her profile picture that Ruby tells her means Kara’s posted some things to her story.

The first is a picture of an airport, with a little geotag that Kara’s drawn a heart over. Probably taken right after landing. A little smile graces Lena’s lips at this, but it’s quickly transformed into an eyeroll. The next image, posted a mere twenty minutes later, is a blurry photo of a bartop, the camera focused on two giant pints of beer on the table in front of them. The filter Kara’s put on it is some kind of sparkle effect, making the drips of condensation shine and shimmer. There’s a tan arm in the shot that Lena assumes is Alex’s, considering the neon yellow surf watch on it. Explains why Sam hadn’t gotten any texts tonight over their game of Monopoly. With a curious tap, Lena sees that sure enough, Kara’s tagged the arm with Alex’s private account. The one Kara had also insisted Lena follow.   

And yes, it’s bad enough she’s finally given into the temptation to check Kara’s online presence. She really shouldn’t be looking at photos of Kara, especially after their compromising morning after the fifth of May. All that pesky growing attraction and all. There really is no reason but bad ones to willingly put herself in the position to potentially see photos of Kara looking handsome on a southern hemisphere beach somewhere, or in some kind of clinging gender neutral uniform on a golf course. But when it comes to Alex, all is fair game when you continuously lie to your best friend about your cross continental romance. She takes it upon herself to investigate the woman her best friend is in love with as she knocks back the rest of her drink, tearing open the wrapper of a Reese's peanut butter cup with her teeth right after. Queen of multitasking. 

Alex’s private page is about what Lena expected from the read she got during their brief interaction on St. Patrick’s Day. Alex’s public page, (which Lena had already looked over), is less active than the days of her semi pro surfer career. But it works to promote Alex’s involvement in a lot of surf charities back in Australia, as well as her parks and recreation career. The feed is full of young girls summer surf camps and group photos with disabled veterans that join the Surf For Recovery projects. A few charities here and there in the comments. Sort of what her official account looks like. But Alex’s private page is much more mundane; a collection of sunsets off some deck overlooking a gorgeous backyard garden, a top down photo of a grill loaded with all sorts of meat cooking… One recent one, posted this morning, with Kara crashed out asleep on a broken white porch swing with tools thrown about. The caption; Porch repair 1, Kara 0. Lena laughs to herself as she chews on another reeses. 

Just as Lena gets further down, an alert banner lights up. Something about one of her recent investments getting back to her. Yet another startup brewing company thanking her for the funding to get off the ground, probably. At this point, Lena’s probably responsible for starting at least three new small batch brewing operations downtown. She might let Kara know about how they’re doing, since she had seemed particularly interested when Lena had mentioned them on Cinco de Mayo.       

As if summoned, another notification banners across the top of her screen. Kara’s instagram starts rolling in with photos from her trip, apparently being posted live. Lena immediately goes to look at them. For lack of better things to do, she tells herself. Not because she misses her holidate, of course. There's Kara, posing side by side on a now fixed porch swing with Alex and an older blonde woman that Lena’s never seen before. The woman has kind eyes and tan skin, sun hat on and a pair of gardening gloves folded on her lap. That must be Alex’s mother? She has extremely good posture in the photo, just like Alex. Could be a similarity. Lena doesn’t know enough to wager a guess, since Kara has only mentioned a few times that she’s adopted. Lena hadn’t wanted to pry.

The next photo is to be expected; Kara and Alex on a pair of surfboards out on the water, hair wet and smiles bright. They’re both throwing Shakas to the camera, clad in wetsuits. Kara’s pulled the top of hers down around the waist, showing lines of muscle that Lena has to quickly take her eyes away from. Alex isn’t looking at the camera, instead only half paying attention to the photo, mostly watching the water around them like a true professional athlete in their medium of expertise. Kara doesn’t seem to mind Alex much, eyes sparkling like the water around them as she looks into the camera. It kickstarts something warm in Lena’s chest, like bath water overflowing the edge of a tub. Kara looks very happy to be back home. 

The last photo gives her pause. It’s a simple candid shot of a group, Kara in their midst. Several people sit packed alongside her in a cozy looking booth. The wood of the table in front of them looks warm and well used, the lighting low and intimate. The edges are unpolished, blurry here and there where the camera wouldn’t focus. Smiles on every face, arms casually slung over shoulders, drinks sitting empty and drying in front of them all. Alex must be the one that took it. There’s at least four people tagged there, hearts lined up with the caption; ‘couldn’t have asked for a better welcome home <3 @nia_nal, @brainyache, @jamezzzolson, @kelly.olson’ Lena’s eyes pause on the way the man apparently named James’ arm is slung particularly snugly around Kara’s shoulders.

Lena can’t remember the last time she was at a bar with more than one of her friends, save Sam. With a small twist feeling inside her chest, she thinks that it looks like… fun. Real fun. The kind she hasn’t really had in a while. She briefly thinks that maybe next time Kara invites her to hang out outside of a holiday, she might just take her up on the offer. But with a shake of her head, she banishes the thought.  

She shouldn’t think of things like that. She knows with an almost surety that Kara probably doesn’t. They’re friends now, Lena would say. A sort of unavoidable label for them after spending every major holiday together and waking up in her underwear. They text quite frequently now as well. But how could someone like Kara ever want more? Kara has family, and friends, and other dates. That much is obvious. There hasn’t been any indication that Kara’s considering changing up their arrangement either. It’s best if Lena remembers that. Lena has Sam and Ruby, and her many, many personal investments. With swift fingers, Lena closes the app.

But not before looking at the surfing photo one more time.   

*

*

*

“Kara?” Alex’s concerned face looms over her, blocking out the bright afternoon sun. 

“Sorry, yeah?” Kara asks, putting away her phone as subtly as she can. Alex, dead ringer, spies it anyway.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve zoned out today. Quit checking the gram to see if your piece liked your post and finish pulling the weedies so we can rock out at the tunes tonight, alright?” Kara frowns, throwing a pulled dandelion plant at Alex’s head from off the ground.

“She’s not my piece , Alex. You talk like such a bloody drongo sometimes.” 

Alex dodges the plant swiftly, laughing as she brushes dirt off her hands onto her trousers. “How is Lena, by the way? Have you two admitted that your little arrangement is simmering with unreached potential?” Kara doesn’t dignify that with a response, feeling a defensive blush creep up her neck. They’d already spoken at length about the Lena situation after Kara had confided in her about their latest plans for Mother’s Day in April. 

“Stuff off, Alex. You know what I’ve told you-”

“Yes, yeah, I only come round during holidays, Alex. We’re mates, Alex. I’m helping her out. So what if I check my phone every five seconds to see if she’s texted me back, Alex.” The older aussie teases. Kara, again, doesn’t respond, only shaking her head at her sister. Alex, once she’s done taking the piss, casts a critical eye around the lawn next to the garden beds they’ve been picking through. “You sure you wanna spend the afternoon pulling these up? I could just hire someone.” Kara scoffs at the mere idea of it.

“I wanted to see your new place! Besides, we already pulled all of Eliza's. Fixed up that swing last arvo. It’s time you got this place all sorted out. Christened the back porch with a tinny or two.” Kara nods towards the surrounding backyard of Alex’s new house. “This is the place where you’re going to make dandy new memories. Quite jealous I am. Downright sore about you owning property while I rent.” Alex smiles back, casting a proud eye towards the back of her new house.     

“Well then in that case, wadya recon about putting in a new back deck next time you’re around for visits?” Alex jokes. They had done a walk around the property when Kara had first gone there, noting some of the boards were rotted out or had plants growing up from the ground through the cracks near the far side. Kara gives her a laugh, but Alex sobers. “For serious. You wanna go get a pint? Maybe take a few swings at the course? You already hung ‘round mom’s place for a week. Don’t you wanna do something else besides house chores and surf sessions?” 

Kara takes a deep breath in, trying to savor the quiet. “Honest? Not really. I’m not a tourist, Alex. I wanted to visit home so I could, you know,” she gestures all around them with her hands, indicating the activity, “do home-y things. Just kind of…be. You know?” Kara had made sure not to be seen by anyone, but earlier in the week, when she’d had a free moment and was still jet lagged, she’d gone out in Eliza’s back yard to sit in the dark of midmorning, listening to Australia welcoming her back. The smell of the air, the light changes as the sun came up on the horizon, the dirt under her feet. Some of that insistent ache she’d been feeling back in America for the past month had finally let up. It was good to be home.  

With a heavy sigh, the blonde lays down on the lawn, the blades of grass tickling her arms where they crush. The sound of footsteps gets closer until Alex sits down next to her. “You still gonna pay Clark a visit in Metropolis before you go back?” She asks tentatively. Kara doesn’t open her eyes, but she can tell by the sound of Alex’s question that she’s worried. The momentary peace is abruptly shot into the shitter at the mention of him, but Kara tries not to let it show on her mug. 

“Of course I am. He didn’t give me a straight answer over the phone.” She sighs. “But I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe he was just embarrassed.” 

Her cousin had been shy and stodgy with details about his donation, as had she when asked about why she was asking in the first place. Next to her, Alex shifts on the grass. Reaching forward, she starts to tear out some clumps near Kara’s ear. The little tearing sound is nice, sending shivers down Kara’s spine until she sits back up. 

“I know that’s been on your mind more than you let on. Ever since you got here you’ve been… I dunno. Distracted. Happy, but distracted. I thought…maybe it was you thinking about Lena.” Alex doesn’t press, just lets the words hang there. Her sister’s maybe not entirely wrong about that. She’d been catching herself wishing Lena was here more than a few times, or checking her phone for texts despite the time difference. But the Clark situation greatly outpaces the sharp stab of missing Lena in between holidays. What if he’s been holding back on her? What would Lena think? It’s almost too scary to say out loud.

“What does Sam think about the situation?” She asks, eyes sliding open as she shifts onto her side to watch Alex’s expression. The line of questioning earns her a rueful laugh, Alex pulling her legs up to sit criss cross.                  

“She’s understanding, but… afraid. For Lena. For the boy. If what we suspect is true, this could get ugly right quick. Didn’t wanna press ‘bout it. Plus, she already has her own worries about how things affect children.” At this, Kara sits back up on her hands. 

“Any headway on the whole, ‘keeping you a secret’ thing?” Kara asks. “It’d be nice if I could pop back to the states and mention the two of you in front of Lena without fear of blowing things up.” Not that she has to keep it a secret from Lena, who already knows. She wishes she could just come out and tell Alex that her girlfriend’s insistence on privacy is jeopardizing her friendship with Lena. Alex chuffs.

“She isn’t keeping me a secret, Kara. It’s more complicated than that. We’re working on it.” Alex says, bypassing the whole Lena thing altogether. Typical.   

“It’ll go cactus on ya.” Kara says quietly, parroting the words Alex had said to her months ago in the car. Alex’s mouth thins.

“I think I’ll go inside and get ready.” She says, standing up with a groan. “Come wash up, will ya? You stink like a warthog.” It earns her an eye roll from Kara, who ambles up from the ground to follow her sister into the house. 

*

*

*

Lena answers her brother’s incoming phone call with a healthy amount of suspicion and a slight prickle of annoyance. He’s interrupted an interview she had been watching on youtube with a podcaster and an Australian music artist who’s concert Kara had gone to sometime last week and posted about on her story. The song in the background had been pretty good, and Lena had been curious. This artist, a so called G-Flip, was apparently nonbinary as well. She had been on her way to relaxing after a semi stressful workday, and Lex never calls just to chat, so it looks like the rest of the video will have to wait until she brushes him off.   

“Hey Lex.” She greets naturally. 

“Sister, hey.” He greets back quickly. “Heads up, I need to butt in on your mothers day plans with mom.” Of course. At least he had gotten straight to the point. It’s never been like Lex to beat around the bush, but sometimes a simple exchange of pleasantries goes a long way for the two of them. What a shame. With a repressed sigh, Lena stands up off her couch and walks the distance to her kitchen to make herself tea.

“Why? Got a last minute vacation you and Eve want to go on?” She asks, not really able to keep the annoyance out of her voice. The cabinet door swings open silently, little rows of clean mugs greeting her. Her housekeeper must have been in while she was at work today. “You know Lilian will be pissed if you skip out. Not even you can avoid her wrath if you ignore her on the single day of the year created to celebrate her having you.” Although, Lena thinks it would be nice not to bear the brunt of Lilian’s constantly shifting criticisms if she spent the whole lunch at the gardens talking about Lex. “Look,” She says, shifting the phone between her shoulder and her ear so she can fill the tea kettle with the little spout of boiling hot water on the left side of her sink, “there’s only so much Kara’s presence can do this year to take heat off my recent investing.” Lilian considers her recent direction of interest ‘inappropriate’. As if investing in craft brewing across Chicago is some kind of sinful association. Not at all like when Lex had invested in a line of bikinis one summer. Because the standard is anything if not double when it comes to him.  

“You’re bringing thunder from down under again?” He teases, voice crackling over the phone. “Wow, I thought you’d be tired of her by now. The joke on that one has been beaten into the ground, don’t you think?” At this dismissive comment, Lena makes a note to put sugar in the gas tank of his Mercedes next time they meet up. A defense of Kara is right on the tip of her tongue when Lex is off again. “Mom doesn’t care about your little bottle shops, sis. She’d rather you spend your time doing something actually worthwhile, like coming back to LuthorCorp.” 

“Never in a million years.” Lena says, purely on reflex. It seems even when asking for favors, Lex manages to shoehorn some attempt at family guilt in. Typical. She opens her mouth to say as much, but he beats her to it.     

“Look, I’m not skipping it. I’m going to be there. I actually really need to talk to her. It’s sort of urgent.”

Lena frowns. “And you haven’t called her already because…?” At his lack of an answer, and the sound of papers shuffling in the background of the call, Lena’s heart skips.

“Lex.” She warns. “Is something wrong?” She hadn’t immediately clocked it, but her usually easy going brother does sound a bit… tense. 

“I’m handling something, that's all.” Is his terse answer. Lena knows her brother better than that, unfortunately for him.

“Is it about your engagement?” She guesses. Eve’s sweet face appears in her mind, along with several completely plausible offences Lex could have committed in the time between their engagement on Christmas and the date of their wedding. She digs around in her tea drawer before finding a few bags of earl grey, which she rips open and carelessly shoves into the hot kettle to brew. 

“What? No! It’s nothing to do with that. Eve and I are fine.” She feels her shoulders relax at that, to her surprise. She hadn’t really thought Eve had endeared herself to her as much, but it is a bit of a relief that it’s all smooth sailing still with Lex’s wide eyed, sweater wearing finance. 

“Lex. What gives?” She’s trying to tap into an unspoken rule of their upbringing, matching his wavelength. You can’t really be a part of a family run empire like Luthorcorp and not understand when certain trip wires are triggered in conversations. There’s only one reason he wouldn’t tell her something like this over the phone; something legal is happening. Something he doesn’t want a recording of. Without preamble, all the past year rushes back to her. The reading of Lionel’s last will and testament, his confession to the sperm interference, the story from that reporter in Metropolis breaking it to the public. A slew of new laws being passed in the aftermath. Hours of paperwork and meetings with lawyers. PR firms. Stress. No need to panic yet though, he hasn’t even used the code word.    

There’s a stiff clearing of the throat on his end, then more papers shuffling. “You know, me and Eve are actually considering going to Kentucky for our honeymoon.”

Fuck. There it is. Now to find out how bad. 

“I hear the weather in Kentucky is lovely this time of year.” She prods. She tries not to break the marble of her kitchen countertop off in her bare hand. He makes a thoughtful humm across the line. Lena distracts herself by finding the honey in her cabinets, but the catharsis of slamming her cabinet doors is arrested by the luxury features of the penthouse that softly close them all with pressurized hinges.  

“I haven’t looked at the weather forecast yet, but I’m sure there won’t be a storm.” He answers. Great, so he doesn't even know what they’re up against. Always optimistic, it seems. Hopefully Lilian can help him sort this all out early, and it won’t blow up their family with another insane scandal. “Lena?”

“Yeah Lex?”

“I’ve got to go, but I look forward to seeing you and Kara at lunch with mom.”

Lena takes a long breath in, pressing her tongue against the back of her teeth. Surely he doesn’t think it’ll be this easy to piggyback on her plans for mother’s day. She’d had to make the reservations at the gardens weeks in advance, even with the Luthor name sway. It would be a shame to pass this opportunity for blackmail up. “You owe me one for crashing.” She mutters. 

Lex gives a huff of a laugh, barely there, before he realizes she's serious. “What do you even want?” He asks, slightly more incredulous than she’d prefer. The idea comes to her immediately. Her wealth and last name allows her many things in this city, especially when it comes to restaurants, but there’s one perk Lex has had locked down for himself and various business partners that she has always wanted in on, if only for a night.  

“The London House rooftop restaurant. Any day I choose, in June. Private. With a tour of the brewing room.” On the other end, Lex sputters.

“June?! Lena! That’s only a month away! You do know that even I have to call ahead when I want to dine there, even with my connections?” Lena listens, stone faced on the other end as she pours her tea into a mug. “And a private? Really. You don’t need the whole restaurant closed just for you.” He continues. She takes a long sip of the bitter tea, humming in mock thoughtfulness at his objections. Lena hadn’t planned on going alone, but Lex can find that out later from one of his spies if he really wants to. No need to make things any easier for her family when they insist on butting into every part of her life.

“Do you and your buddies not rent the entire place out every time you go there?” She asks innocently. Lex immediately makes a disgruntled sound at that, but Lena soldiers on, blunt fingertips drumming on the cold marble of her kitchen island. “And, I seem to recall you essentially keeping them afloat during Covid with how many times you rented out the entire place and ran up a check.” 

There’s a long amount of deliberation from Lex’s end. Long enough that Lena considers threatening to call the gardens and tell them not to expect any other members of their party, until Lex grits the words out. “Fine. You can have London House for one night in June. You’d better tip everyone like your life depends on it, and don’t even think about sending anything back to the kitchens or skipping a course. It took me years to get in with Chef Verstegen. Getting on Hotel Management’s 30 under 30 list in 2017 gave him a big head.”

Lena smiles a mile wide. “Deal.” And hangs up on him.

*

*

*  

“We’re real glad you could make it over here before heading back home, Kara. How was your visit to Australia?” 

Kara is faintly aware of the strange wording. It feels more right to phrase it as visiting home and coming back to America, not visiting Australia and coming home to Chicago. Things like that always split up into sharp parts in her brain when she travels between the two. She never really stops feeling the absence of the other, no matter where she is at the moment. Dual citizenship, dual homesickness. But she’s not really sure she could explain that to Lois, nor Clark for that matter. Clark considers himself fully American anyway after being raised in Kansas. “It was great, Lois.” Kara murmurs, taking the offered glass of water. Lois always seems calm and collected, but even she can’t hide the way she wipes her palms off on her jeans before sitting down, casting an indecipherable look at her husband.

“I’d have gotten you a stiffer drink for this conversation, but I don’t want you two coming to blows like last time.” She jokes good naturedly. Kara rolls her eyes at that, echoing Clark’s laugh where he sits beside her at the table.

“Gosh. Are you ever gonna let that one go? I was twelve. And freshly traumatized.” 

“Yeah, well, freshly traumatized or not, you still broke my nose.” Clark adds, pouring his wife a glass of water from the pitcher on the kitchen table. Kara leans back in her chair, enjoying the banter. Been a bit since her and Clark have chopped up.

“You’d just left me with strangers. Have you forgotten that Alex wanted to kill me for the first two years? She thought I was some sort of alien.”

Clark takes a long sip of his own water, eyes softening as he spins the glass around on the tablecloth. “You know I’d have taken you in, but the state of Queensland wouldn’t even let me take you out of the district. Guess they weren’t too keen on letting a twenty two year old raise a twelve year old. It was a miracle the Danvers were able to take you in. Bigger miracle they were able to feed you without going bankrupt.”

Kara bats at his shoulder, earning her a wide grin. 

Her cousin and cousin in law’s house just outside of Metropolis is warm and inviting, as always. The ceiling fan above them turns, squeaking faintly. There’s the smell of something lingering in the warm air of the kitchen, probably chicken dinner keeping warm in the oven. No one is particularly hungry though. Kara’s once again incredibly jetlagged from the brutal fourteen hour flight from Melbourne, and she still has to go to the airport tomorrow morning to catch the four hour flight back to Chicago.   

“So…back on then. How long did you know? Before the Lawsuit? After?” She hears herself ask. Lois looks to Clark, then Clark looks to Lois. Kara can’t understand the glances like they can, and it’s more than a bit frustrating. Maybe she will have that stronger drink.   

“I didn’t know for sure. I still don’t.” Clark muses. “But I badly want to find out. The timeline might match, or it might not. I was just one of hundreds who’s samples were put through trials. I didn’t have any particular reason to suspect. But then the news broke that Lex’s own surrogate had been tampered with by his father. And then I saw the photo of Connor and Lex in that magazine. I mean, the eyes.” While saying it, her cousin raises his large hand to touch his glasses, tapping once. Then he raises it to Kara’s own temple, touching her gently there before withdrawing again. And he’s right, Kara supposes. There’s something about El eyes. Sharp and blue, like cut chips of glass. “And his hair! Just like mine.” 

Lois slides her water glass side to side. “I know Clark doesn’t have many photos of when he was young,” She starts, facing Kara more fully as she reaches for the water pitcher, “but Mama Kent sent over copies of a bunch of them when she saw the news. She swears Connor Luthor looks just like him at that age. The last tipping point was you calling to let us know that Connor hates pulp on his teeth after he eats oranges. Too specific, don’t you think?”

Kara crosses her arms and leans back into her chair more fully. “I recon, yeah.” She admits, running her thumb along her bottom lip before scratching at the back of her neck. 

There’s a lengthy beat of silence, before a large warm hand lands on her shoulder. “I know this puts you in a strange position.” He says quietly. Kara squints at him, trying to parse his meaning.

“It’s just… If he is. If he is biologically mine , then… that kid is your family too.” He breathes out. And… yeah. There is all that to consider. Having more bio family after having lost them all. Then there’s the Lena of it all.

“What about Lena?” She asks out loud. All the worries about this seem to come up her throat like car grease. Thick, chemical and sticky, like the solvents she’d used to clean out the inside of her Grand Wagoneer’s gas tank while restoring it. 

Now it’s Clark’s turn to look confused. He blinks his blue eyes at her from behind thick glasses, hair swooping delicately over the masculine angles of his face. “What about her?”

This obtuse question gets him a sharp kick in the shin from Lois under the table that rattles the water pitcher.   

“Honey, I love you, but you can be a real bonehead.” Her cousin in law smiles tensely, sending a knowing look at Kara. Kara plucks up the courage from somewhere and spits the words out. 

“Lena… She’s important to me. We’re friends.” Clark seems to take this statement at face value, thank Steve Irwin, but Lois, too damned clever for her own skin, gives her a sidelong look of scathing skepticism that Kara thoroughly does not meet. The situation was hard enough when Kara was faced with telling her she was related to the man that blew their story up on national news. But this too? Now she has to tell her that ‘Hey Lena, by the way you bloody downright minks, I’m also the cousin of the man who’s tearing your family apart right now! As we speak! Isn’t that the best of days? What a crack on!’ Before letting her mind run bogus, she figures she should figure out what the next steps are.

“What exactly is it you’ve decided to do? Take her brother to court for a paternity test for her nephew?”

“For starters.” Clark says solemnly. “Then, we’re thinking of asking for visitation rights.”

Kara feels just about all her bones go jellyfish in her limbs, akimbo. “Jesus H Christ.” She mutters, letting her head fall onto the table with a loud thunk. Lois and Clark exchange some kind of sentiment over her bowed head, but it’s lost to her as her stomach rumbles loudly. “Can we eat the chicken now?” She asks weakly. She hears Lois laugh next to her, feels her press a kiss to the back of her head, and head off to the oven to start plating things up, Clark following after with loud footsteps. 

Notes:

What we thinkin? Shout out to G Flip for being an icon. I think I streamed their album at least thirty times while finishing this puppy up. Much love to all who continue to follow this story!