Chapter Text
“Ms. Luthor will see you now.”
Kara looks up at the first voice she's heard in over an hour. “Sure. I mean, of course.” Her voice is hoarse and she clears her throat, hoping he didn't notice. “Thanks.”
Following the man in through the double doors, she's too busy fumbling with her purse strap to really look around but when she does, she's immediately impressed.
Everything in the executive office at L-Corp is pristine. Every surface is spotless, every decoration carefully placed—and is the bookshelf organized by the Dewey decimal system?
A white leather, high backed chair turns in a smooth one-eighty and Kara, who's just looked up from the carpet, completely loses her train of thought as her jaw slackens.
When she applied for the new L-Corp assistant job, she was surprised it was set in the downtown headquarters. But she had gone along with it, having grown tired of her depressing cubicle at a telecommunications company. How was she to know that it would be Lena Luthor herself conducting the interview? But here she is, her mouth hanging open like a surprised monkey's and her brain short-circuiting under the piercing green gaze of National City's local billionaire.
“Last interview of the day, Ms. Luthor,” the man says from behind her. “And a gentlemen left his business card at the front desk for you.”
“Of course he did.” The brunette's voice is cool and crisp, just like her suit, and her eyes don't leave Kara's. “Throw it out. Or keep it yourself, I have no interest in people like that.” Her tone makes it clear that 'people like that' aren't worth anyone's time, and he leaves with a nod.
“Kara Danvers?” The name hangs in the air and Kara, still recovering, snaps her mouth shut at being directly addressed.
“That's me,” she manages to get out. Her hands are hanging limply at her sides and she shifts her weight, feeling self-conscious about her clothes. “Um, if you don't mind my asking, who was that? Since you don't have an assistant. If you're interviewing...me.” She's too busy reminding herself to blink to notice Lena eyeing her hungrily.
“That was my lawyer. He'll help me decide whether or not to hire you.” Cutting to the chase, Lena inspects the nervous, pretty woman in the middle of her office and stands, crossing in front of her desk. She's been staring at Lena since she walked in and it makes Lena feel like something is in her hair, but she grits her teeth. These open applications were a terrible idea; half the people applying were after something else, whether it be her family name or money, and it's set her on edge.
“Tell me about yourself.”
Kara swallows and tries to form a sentence but she's never seen eyes that green in her entire life and her brain is clunking around like a broken-down car. “My name is Kara, I went to—”
“Went to National City University, and Midvale High before that. You're 25, you have a sister who's 28, and you currently work for SmartCell. I know all that. I read your file.” Lena's photographic memory always hits people like a brick, and Kara is no different.
“I...um, yeah. I just feel...stuck at my current job and need something more challenging.” She's desperately trying to sound intelligent, feeling very inadequate next to Lena's three-piece suit.
With a perfectly arched eyebrow, Lena crosses her arms. “Challenging.” The word rolls off her tongue and Kara is nodding vigorously before it's finished.
“Yeah. I have a pretty good memory, plus I've seen The Devil Wears Prada like, fifty times, so I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
The eager expression on Kara's face pulls at Lena's heart and she's reminded of her younger self, excited to show Lillian her newest invention. The memories surge back and her voice hardens, years of learning her lesson turning this into a teaching moment.
“This isn't a feel-good blockbuster, this is a high-pressure occupation at a multi-billion dollar business. And if you think Miranda Priestly was bad, you have no idea what's in store.”
Kara is unfazed by her harshness and smiles at her. “So you've watched it?”
The comment catches Lena off guard and she narrows her eyes at the other woman's grin. “This job can be dangerous. I deal with a lot of volatile chemicals and my family isn't known for getting along with...people.” Her jaw twitches when she mentions her family and her eyes flash on the word 'people'.
“That's fine,” Kara says easily. She wouldn't mind a bit of danger, and anything has to be better than customer service. Everyone on Earth watched Lex Luthor's trial and knows about his penchant for hating aliens, but Lena is a completely different person and she seems nice enough that Kara can see herself working under her.
“I'll be in touch.”
Taken aback by the suddenness of the dismissal, Kara blinks several times. “Right. Thanks for your time, Ms. Luthor.”
As the door closes behind the blonde, Lena frowns. There's something about Kara that makes her regret sending her off the way she did, something that threw her for a loop in that flashy smile and those clear blue eyes.
Don't do it, Lena. Hire someone that doesn't have perfect hair or a bright smile and sunny disposition. Hire a man.
Sitting back down at her desk, Lena scrolls through her emails until she finds the one with Kara's resumé.
Kara is halfway down the street when her phone rings with a call from an unknown number and she hesitates before answering, recognizing the local area code.
“Hello?”
“8 am tomorrow morning. Don't be late.” Lena hangs up on her before she can even respond, and she's left standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a giddy smile spreading across her face.
The next morning she shows up twenty minutes early with two cups of coffee. The short email Lena's previous assistant sent her had so little information on it that she's not even sure where to go, but she's waiting by the door with a smile and a steaming dark roast when Lena walks in, looking stunning in a dark blue dress.
“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”
Lena takes it without a word and walks to the elevator, her three-inch heels clicking on the linoleum. Kara follows her, trying to keep her eyes off the way Lena's hips are moving in her dress. “You have a few messages already, one from Morgan Edge, the other from James Olsen.”
“Ignore the one from Edge. In fact, ignore every future message from Edge. I hate that sentient bottle of cheap cologne.”
“Done,” Kara says easily, vowing never to mention his name again. “James says you need to talk to the DA again, something about—”
The elevator doors open and a man steps in, nodding to Lena. She clears her throat sharply, effectively silencing Kara until they're alone in her office.
Looking at Kara for the first time since she walked in, Lena squares her shoulders, refusing to acknowledge the eager expression on her face. “You are now my personal assistant, which means you will get to know more about me than anyone, on this planet or anywhere else. That means you don't spread my business around.”
Kara nods along, digesting the information. “Of course, Ms. Luthor. I signed the NDA and all the other forms this morning when I came in, don't worry.”
“If all it took to stop someone betraying me was a piece of paper, I wouldn't be in this mess.” Lena waves a hand at her office and sighs. “What did James want?”
“Mr. Olsen says that the DA is pressing charges against Mahoney again.”
“Dear God, will men never learn? Tell him I'll handle it.”
Nodding again, Kara stands awkwardly by her desk and watches as Lena settles in for the day. The CEO pulls out file after file from her bag, two laptops, and four cellphones, arranging them neatly on her desk before looking up at her.
“Ms. Danvers?”
“Yes?” She's too chipper for this early in the morning and Lena tries to be gentle in crushing her mood, but her coffee hasn't kicked in yet and she has a reputation to uphold, even as Kara's toothy grin makes her veins buzz.
“Do you know why I hired you?”
“...No?”
“I hired you because you were the only applicant younger than I am. I hired you because I don't need a chaperone, I need an assistant. Chaperones hover, assistants appear. I'll call you if I need anything.” Lena shoots a pointed look at her door and the message is loud and clear. Kara scampers away, her cheerful mood not at all diminished, and begins to familiarize herself with the inner workings of the city's most modern building.
The day passes quickly and Kara runs in and out of the office fetching coffee, bits of technology, more coffee, building plans, and faxes. The CEO stays shut away in her office and Kara relishes those brief minutes when she's in her presence, expensive perfume and a vague accent as Lena argues over the phone about billions of dollars or chemical compounds.
It's after 9 pm when Lena finally heads for the elevator. Kara chases her down, holding out the schedule for tomorrow with a smile that makes Lena a little bit dizzy as the doors slide closed.
“What are you still doing here?” Lena looks surprised to see her, and maybe it's because she's tired that one corner of her mouth twitches up in response to Kara's smile. The muscles feel stiff, unused, and with a pang of sadness, she thinks about how she hasn't smiled genuinely in weeks, months. Ever since moving to National City, in fact.
Shrugging, Kara presses the button for the lobby and double checks the schedule before handing it to Lena. “I was waiting for you to finish.” She says it matter-of-factly, like it doesn't matter what time Lena got done with work, she would still be waiting for her even at 3 in the morning.
“Move this meeting to 4, and I'm not spending another minute arguing with Paul.” Lena gives the schedule a cursory glance, noticing that Kara's shirt has come untucked. It's messy and unprofessional, an absolutely adorable, and Lena clears her throat loudly in an attempt to distract herself. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Danvers.” Making an effort not to look at Kara, she walks to the door with stiff movements and gets into her car, instructing the driver to take her home.
Kara waves shyly at the limo, feeling accomplished at having gotten through the day successfully without messing up once. There was a moment when Lena praised her and it's not lost on her that it's slightly ridiculous, her being complimented by someone barely her senior, but it wasn't condescending. She had navigated a scheduling snafu between two investors that weren't supposed to know the other one was in the building, and Lena had been relieved when Kara popped out of nowhere to distract one of the men.
“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”
“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”
The elevator ride up is the usual, Kara reciting messages and reminding her about the schedule. Today's is packed, and as her last meeting ends at 5, Lena realizes she has yet to review several new patents from her think tank. Locking herself in her office, she buries herself in work, rolling her eyes at the cartoon cow Kara has drawn on her coffee cup. Yesterday it was a sheep, the day before it was a pig.
When she steps out for a break 4 hours later, her back sore from hunching over a computer, the sight of Kara sitting outside her office door melts Lena's heart. The younger woman's mouth is slightly open and she's snoring softly, a book lying open in her lap. She reaches out a hand to adjust Kara's glasses, but catches herself, clearing her throat loudly.
“Ms. Danvers, you can go home for the night. This is going to take me until at least 11 o'clock, and I fully intend on crashing afterward.”
Leaning against the wall, Kara's head jerks up at her boss's voice and she jumps to her feet, stifling a yawn.
“It's fine. I have nowhere else to be.” Her legs are sore from the cramped position but the jolt in her veins at the sight of Lena standing over her chased away the pins and needles.
“Really, you don't have to stay here as late as I do, you don't run the company.”
“No, but I run the coffee and the coffee runs you, and you run the company,” Kara says cheekily, and Lena doesn't argue with her. Strange. Normally she likes to be left alone, a lone wolf working the midnight oil. But she knows Kara has been outside her office for the last few hours, and it's given her a calming sort of comfort, that maybe it doesn't have to be so lonely, being at the top.
'Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown.'
Shut up, mother.
Lena hears the words as though someone else is talking through her. “If you won't go home, at least come into my office. There's a couch.”
Kara's eyes widen and she pushes her glasses up. Her expression is a few shades off from disbelief and she won't meet Lena's gaze, and for some reason, she blushes. “Oh, no, Ms. Luthor. I couldn't interrupt your work, I can just wait out here.”
Not used to taking 'no' for an answer from Kara for anything, Lena regards her assistant with a new interest. “Well, either come in or go home. I won't have you sitting on the floor after a 12-hour workday, I'm not unreasonably cruel.”
“You're not cruel at all,” Kara says in a soft tone. She's conflicted; she wants to go in but it's been a long day and she's tired, and she's never had the best control over her thoughts when she's tired. And Lena's fitted blouse, tucked into a pencil skirt, the buttons straining at the front, isn't helping matters.
“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”
Kara's third week finds her sitting outside Lena's office most nights and getting into the lull of the CEO's schedule. She's not exactly sure when Lena has time to eat because she's only run downtown to get her a sandwich a few times in almost a month, and has mentioned it to her boss. They've grown close faster than expected, spending so much time in each other's space, and Kara has even made a few jokes about her lack of appetite, which Lena cracked a half-smile at.
More often than not, Lena doesn't walk out until 8 or 9 o'clock, and every time she offers her the same thing—to spend her time in the office instead of outside.
And every time, Kara refuses, saying that she doesn't want to distract Lena from her world-changing work, that she's fine where she is.
Growing more and more intrigued, now it's become a challenge for Lena. She's always hated losing, and as the fourth week of Kara's new employment nears, she vows to get the blonde into her office one night—just to work.
“Kara, how many times do I have to tell you, you don't have to sit on the floor?”
“I like it here.” Kara looks up from the next day's schedule, her glasses on top of her head. She has to squint to make out Lena's face, and it's so cute that Lena can't look away.
She says the same words she's been saying for weeks. “Why don't you come inside? You can sit on the couch.” It's like a scene from a play that they repeat every night, and Kara's answer is exactly the same.
“No, thank you. I wouldn't want to distract you, I'm fine out here.”
Lena's just turned to disappear back into her office, pursing her lips at the lack of headway, when she makes a snap decision.
“Ms. Luthor—!”
“You're right, it's not so bad down here.” Lena smooths out her dress and leans against the office door a few feet away from Kara. Attributing the butterflies in her stomach to not eating lunch or dinner, she looks over at Kara. “What are you reading?”
Shocked that Lena Luthor, head of L-Corp, is sitting on the floor next to her, Kara doesn't answer and Lena plucks the book from her numb hands. Human, All Too Human. The quirk of a perfectly shaped brow makes Kara gulp. “You read Nietzsche?”
“I'm trying to,” Kara stutters, watching Lena read her book. She's turning the pages twice as fast as Kara did, but she has no doubt the brunette is taking in every word. “I have to read each sentence twice, but I'm slowly getting through it.”
“And what do you think?” Lena prods, eager to see what Kara will say.
“I think he's right about a lot of things.” Kara's eyes light up and Lena notices that she uses her hands a lot when she gets excited, gesturing as though it will help prove her point. And it does. “That we seek mastery over things we don't deserve to rule, and we're never satisfied even after we've ruined things that were better left alone.”
Getting over her surprise, Lena narrows her eyes. “Smart and pretty,” she mutters, much to Kara's chagrin.
“I'm not that smart. I sometimes make bad decisions,” she says with a shy smile.
“Like the bad decision of sitting out here when you could be sitting on my couch?” Lena raises a challenging eyebrow. “I do wonder why you choose the floor over your desk, or an empty room, or even a stray chair." Her tone is teasing as she snaps the book shut. "You're on page 43, by the way.”
Embarrassed, Kara flushes, worried that she's annoyed Lena with her outburst. “I like reading out here,” she says with less force than previous nights.
“I insist.” Lena is staring directly at her and there isn't enough time for the words; that she would love nothing more but she simply can't bear being in Lena's presence because of some strange urges she feels when she smells her perfume or the even stranger thoughts that whirl through her brain when she hears her voice go low and throaty. From outside her body, Kara feels herself nodding into the hypnotizing green eyes.
The next thing she knows, she's sitting on the white couch inside the office and looking around her, afraid of breaking something. The longest she'd spent in this room was for the interview, and then a few days ago when Lena asked her to get her a file from her desk. She had spent an extra 30 seconds looking at the framed photograph by the phone—a picture of a younger Lena with her arms around a man she didn't recognize—then left the office in a hurry.
Starting back in on her work, Lena barely acknowledges Kara except to ask her to run to the printer. When she returns with the warm stack of papers, she sits back down nervously, like Lena might change her mind and kick her out, but she bends over her book and for the next two hours the only sounds are of page-turning and typing, and Lena's occasional muttered mathematics.
They leave at 11:30, and Kara holds the door open as Lena turns the lights off.
“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Lena asks as they step into the elevator. She's cautiously optimistic that she's set a precedent, and Kara nods.
“It was nice,” she admits, her fingers playing with the edge of her bookmark. She couldn't stop stealing glances at Lena the entire time and is still on page 43, but she smiles at her boss like nothing is wrong.
“You're welcome to come in anytime you're free, my couch is always open.”
With a shy glance that Lena can't read, Kara nods. “Good night, Ms. Luthor.”
It's almost three months before Kara is assigned something worthy of the title 'personal' assistant.
“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”
Like clockwork, Kara is standing there and beaming, and Lena can't hide her returning smile anymore. She tried for the first month but Kara wore her down, and now she doesn't mind starting her day with a smile.
“I need you to do me a favor,” she says on their daily ride up to the top floor.
“Anything,” Kara says easily. Maybe it's because it's her job, maybe it's the way she says it, but in Kara's mouth the words sound genuine, like she wants to do whatever Lena asks of her. Her enthusiasm hasn't dropped a beat since day one and she schedules Lena's spin classes like it's her favorite thing to do.
“An old friend of mind, Jack Spheer, is dropping something off at my apartment. It's not something that I want staying in the hall for very long, so I need to you drive over and bring it in when he comes by.”
As she's pulling up to Lena's apartment in the back of her limo, Kara wonders what it will look like inside. She imagines a smaller version of her office, tasteful artwork and elegant furniture and technology everywhere. The doorman lets her in, having been sent a photo of her when she was hired, and it's all a bit exciting walking down the hall to where Lena lives, like she's getting to see a side of Lena that no one else has seen.
Repeating the instructions to herself, 'bring it in when he comes by', she looks the door up and down, feeling important. Her heart falls at the sight of a numerical lock, complete with a thumb pad.
She didn't say anything about a code.
Do I call her?
Which phone? The office? Her cell?
The phone is ringing in her ear as she paces in front of Lena's door, glancing at her watch every few seconds like it will magically have the code written on it. Jack Spheer is supposed to arrive any minute, and short of breaking down the door—which looks impossible—Kara has no way of getting inside.
She hears the line pick up and anxiously interrupts whoever is on the other end. “The door is locked, can you put Ms. Luthor on the phone?”
“1-2-5-2-4-8-7. Your thumbprint is already in the system.” Lena's voice in her ear surprises her so much that she drops the phone, and by the time she's brought it back to her ear her boss has hung up.
Muttering the numbers under her breath, she carefully enters the code, afraid of what will happen if she puts it in wrong, and breathes a little easier when the light blinks green under her thumb. Several heavy-duty locks disengage and the door swings in, well-oiled hinges moving silently.
The inside is surprisingly dark, the curtains drawn, and there's a stale, unused air to the whole apartment, probably because Lena is always in her office. Kara finds herself drawn in farther and farther until she's standing in front of a futuristic-looking fridge with a singular post-it stuck to it.
Groceries.
It's written in the handwriting Lena uses when she doesn't care, scrawled, hurried, and Kara isn't surprised when she peeks inside to bleakly empty shelves. A longer look around shows that Lena's apartment has the bare bones but not a personal touch, and Kara's heart twinges at the emptiness of it all. Pulling a pen out of her purse, she draws a little stick figure scientist holding a flask in the corner of the post-it.
An unseen force is pulling her towards the hall, and she only comes back to her senses when her hand is resting on the door to Lena's bedroom.
This is where she sleeps.
Where she gets dressed.
Maybe she's even cried over an ex-boyfriend. No, Lena doesn't strike her as the kind of woman who cries over men.
The idea of seeing Lena's bedroom and the unexpected rush at the thought leaves her dizzy, and she hurries back to the door on unsteady legs when someone knocks.
“Hello, darling.” An attractive man with an English accent is looking at her with a sneaky grin, and she swallows, staring at the ground and trying to hide the guilty rush of blood to her cheeks. He's the man from the photo on Lena's desk, if not slightly older.
Her voice comes out higher than usual and she smashes down the jealousy that threatens to make it crack. “Lena said you had a package for her? I'm Kara.”
“Kara Danvers?” His mischievous smile morphs into a look of recognition and he holds out a hand, his eyes glinting. “Jack Spheer.” She shakes it uncertainly, not really sure what's going on, but he seems pleased to meet her. “Lena's told me all about you. Glad I could finally meet you.”
“She—what?” Kara almost chokes, dropping Jack's hand like a hot iron. There's a buzzing in her ears and she wonders if she's misheard him. Lena can't possibly care enough that she talks about her to her friends, can she? She's just her assistant.
Jack smiles, stepping aside to reveal a small wooden box on the ground behind him. “She says you're the best assistant she's ever had. Don't tell her I told you.” He winks and peers past her into the apartment. “Is she home?”
“No, no. She's at work. She sent me to get...whatever that is.” Kara clears out of the doorway so he can bring it in. Her initial jealousy returns when he flicks on the lights with a practiced manner—clearly he's been here before.
“I thought she let you in.” He sets the box down carefully like it's a bomb. And it could be, Kara has no idea what's inside. “You didn't cut off her thumb and stage this all as an elaborate crime, did you?” His tone is playful but his eyes flash with a surge of protectiveness that Kara, oddly enough, finds herself relating to.
“She had my thumbprint put in,” she explains, her shoulders going back defensively.
He raises an eyebrow and the look he gives her makes her think she's given away a secret. “She never had my thumbprint put in, and I've known her almost fifteen years. Maybe if I was a beautiful woman like you, I could've shagged my way into her security system.”
Even as she blushes, something in her chest clicks into place at his words. How he doesn't seem that surprised to find her alone in Lena's apartment, his knowing look that makes her blush at all that it implies.
Kara is shocked by the sentiment as her brain catches up to what Jack just said.
He thinks we're sleeping together.
The silence between them stretches to an uncomfortable length and he seems to realize he's said something shocking because he claps his hands together and steps away from the kitchen counter.
“I better get back to work. Excuse the ramblings of a mad scientist.” He closes the door behind him, leaving Kara still reeling from his comment.
She's never thought about Lena as anything but her boss, but if she has to admit it, she could recreate a Devil-Wears-Prada-worthy montage of Lena's outfits—not because she has an eye for fashion, but because Lena does, and she has an eye for Lena. An eye that always lingers on whatever designer outfit Lena's thrown on, cataloging colors, curves, angles. Everything is falling into place rather suddenly and her head spins with possibilities. She's had crushes on girls before and even kissed a few while getting off in clubs, but it was never really an option for her. She's dated men all her life, and why fix something that isn't broken?
Her fingers itch to open the box but she holds herself back, her hands curling into fists on the table. A tiny voice in the back of her head is screaming at her to leave, go back to L-Corp and find some excuse to tell Lena in person that she's gotten the package and smell her perfume and have those hooded green eyes burn into her—
The harsh ring of the phone shatters her daydream. It's Lena calling, and Kara worries that she knows she's still in her apartment, answering with a breathy “Hello?”
“Can you pick me up a coffee and two 5-hour energies on your way back to the office?”
“Of course, Ms. Luthor. You know, you really shouldn't put more caffeine in your coffees, it's bad for you and I worry—” Her voice cracks and she winces, hoping Lena doesn't notice.
As usual, Lena has hung up on her.
Sitting back in her chair with a sigh, Lena rubs at her eyes. She didn't get much sleep last night, working on a project proposal for a new air-purifying system. Eyeing her phone guiltily, she convinces herself that she did the right thing, hanging up on Kara like that. Always hanging up on Kara, before her traitorous tongue can give her away.
Thankfully, Kara consistently wears conservative clothing and the poor woman is completely oblivious to the way Lena looks at her. Jack teased her mercilessly the last time they got brunch together, trying to play matchmaker with them and meeting a stone wall of resistance from Lena. She wasn't going to get tangled up with someone at work, certainly not with her hard-to-replace assistant. She trusts him enough to not say anything to Kara about it, but he's always had an annoyingly belligerent interest in her love life.
“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.” Kara knocks on the door an hour later, coffee and energy drink in hand.
Lena narrows her eyes as the blonde sets the cup down on her desk, looking her up and down with an air of suspicion. One interaction with Jack and Kara is a changed woman; she's carrying herself differently, there's a confident timbre to the way she says her name, and her hair, normally worn in an average bun, is braided in a golden pleat that reaches the middle of her back.
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?” Kara's eyes are bright, and Lena's suspicions grow at how wide her smile is. It's usually enthusiastic, but right now it's downright over the top. She's tempted to ask the reason behind the smile but she forces her mouth into a thin line.
“Not right now, thank you.”
After Kara leaves with an unreadable backward glance, Lena throws herself back into her tax filing, but what she sees staring up at her aren't numbers and employer ID's. It's blue eyes and a sympathetic smile and a voice that whispers, “You're not cruel at all.”
It's surprising, how much of an effect those words have, months later.
Later that night, Kara slips in through the doors to take her now-regular place on Lena's couch. Her sensible shoes make almost no noise but Lena is acutely aware of her presence, forcing her eyes down and waiting for Kara to say something.
“Your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”
“Thank you, Kara.” There's an electrifying tension to the air, and when Kara sits down to read, Lena stands and stretches, trying not to notice the way Kara's eyes follow her every movement.
Kara, meanwhile, is convincing herself that it's her job to watch Lena, that's what she's being paid for. Every time she finds her eyes wandering or worse, her thoughts, she promises herself that she's just being careful. They're professionals at work simply sharing the same space, and with Lena's reputation for attracting assassin's, she would be a fool not to keep her eyes on her.
“Still reading Nietzsche?”
With an embarrassed smile, Kara closes her book. “Yes. I'm not a fast reader. I guess my brain is more wired for running errands than philosophy.”
Realizing that it came out accusing, Lena backtracks quickly. “No, no. I'm impressed. The only other people I know who read philosophy for fun are Lillian and my brother.”
“Um. Don't you hate them?” Kara says shyly, shoving the book under her leg.
“Only because they took philosophy teachings and used them to justify murder.” Lena's explanation is short, sardonic, and Kara immediately regrets talking about them.
When her boss bends over to straighten the edge of her rug, her blouse pulls in a way that Kara has never noticed on a woman. Seen, maybe, but not noticed. Certainly never fixed her eyes on the way she's doing right now and she's straightening back up and—
Kara lets out a very unbecoming squeak and stands up abruptly, her hands clutching at her book and smoothing her hair in fast, small movements.
“I have to—run. My...plants need watering. Good night, Ms. Luthor.”
And just like that, she's gone, out the door before Lena can say anything.
The next few weeks are filled with new outfits and long stares and Lena can't help but wonder if Kara is going through something. She seems both more at ease and more nervous around Lena, and the CEO can't figure out for the life of her why that is.
Unless Jack said something. He wouldn't, would he?
“Kara, could you come in here?”
The blonde shows up in an instant, almost startling Lena with her sudden appearance. “Yes, Ms. Luthor?”
“What does my Friday morning look like?” Lena doesn't look up from her schedule, trying to subtly inch closer to Kara, who's leaning over the desk. Her perfume hasn't changed and it reminds Lena of home—not the Luthor mansion, but what she imagines a happy home would smell like.
“Nothing significant is scheduled,” Kara says confidently, not needing to refer to the notepad she scrawls all of Lena's meetings on. “What do you need?”
“I want to reschedule this press conference. I have too many things going on the day before and Wednesday I'm meeting with Jack,” Lena says casually, looking up.
“Oh, I thought you—Jack Spheer?” Kara says, a little too pointedly.
Lena surprises them both when she grins at her. “Are you jealous?”
She doesn't mean to ask, but she finds herself wanting an honest answer. Her heart cracks slightly when Kara shakes her head adamantly, clearly taking her seriously, but the way Kara stammers at the suggestion sets off warning bells in her head.
“No, I just—maybe you—no,” she finishes lamely, flushing.
The tense silence that follows leaves both of them looking around the office for something to focus on, and Lena blurts out the first thing she can think of.
“Can you get me a coffee?”
Kara's eyebrows knit and she stares at Lena, a worried look on her face. “I just got you one. Are you feeling okay?” She looks a little too concerned and Lena tries to shore her walls back up, telling herself that it's Kara's job to care, she's paid to make sure she's comfortable. Just how comfortable she wishes Kara would make her is her own business.
“This one is cold,” she lies. They can both see the steam coming out the top of the cup, but Kara just blinks and disappears.
Once she's alone, Lena tosses a report to the side of her desk and runs a hand through her hair.
What the hell was that?
What exactly do you think you're doing?
“Oh, I thought you—”
What had she been about to say?
One morning as Kara is watching Lena get her desk ready, she can sense something is off.
“Ms. Luthor? Are you alright? You've barely touched your coffee.”
Lena glances in her direction and Kara realizes what's thrown her off. Lena is still wearing her sunglasses even though it's an overcast day and they're usually off by the time she's at her desk. The brunette doesn't answer and she poses the question again, shyly.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“I'm fine, Kara.” Lena waves her away but the movement is interrupted by a wince; she pushes the glasses up, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Are you sure? Because you look a little pale. How much sleep did you get? It's probably all the caffeine, you know, I read a study that said–“
“I have a migraine,” she admits. She keeps her voice even, knowing Kara has a tendency to fuss over her. In fact, she's concerned in a way her own mother never was and if she's being honest, Lena doesn't mind it. But she's at work and she has an appearance to think about. She's in charge, and that means she doesn't have time for a migraine.
Kara immediately lowers her voice. “Can I get you anything? Water? I can close the blinds, if you like.”
“No, I...” Lena is fighting against the voice in the back of her head, the voice that's screaming at her that she isn't worth anyone's care, that she should just toughen up and deal with it until the end of the day when she can collapse in her apartment and sleep until the next morning.
Kara is fighting it too and she doesn't even know it, with crinkling blue eyes and messy blonde curls falling over her shoulders as she leans over her in concern.
“I'd like that. Thank you.”
“Of course, Ms. Luthor.” She hurries to pull the blinds down, completely disregarding the cord Lena has attached to them. Unlike her, Kara is tall enough to reach the handle on her tiptoes, and even through her migraine Lena can appreciate the way her body stretches, straining upwards as her fingers catch the handle.
“How's that?” Kara whispers once the office is dark. She doesn't have much experience with migraines but she's read that they can leave people in excruciating pain and she's worried for Lena. She has a meeting later that Morgan Edge is running, and she wonders if she should tell security to keep him out.
With a relieved sigh, Lena lets the sunglasses clatter to her desk and puts her head in her hands. “That's better. Dear God, I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
Kara gives her a tense smile, her lips curving up. “I know something that may help,” she says shyly, taking a few steps towards her boss. “I know that built up stress isn't good for migraines. I studied a little kinesthesiology in university, I could help you relieve some of the tension in your shoulders.”
Lena cracks an eye open, a slit of green in a pale, drawn face. “What are you suggesting, Kara?” She's too tired to make a smart remark and the aura around her vision is sapping at her patience.
Kara's innocent smile is covered up by her hair and her voice is low when she answers Lena, like she's afraid of what she's going to say. “I was thinking maybe you could use a massage—just your shoulders, or maybe your back. I'm sure you were hunched over your computer all night, despite telling me that you were going to get a good night's sleep when you left the office.”
Lena closes her eyes with a wry chuckle. “You know me too well.” There's a tense moment when neither of them says anything and Kara can't read her expression, then Lena sits up and leans forward slightly and she knows her boss is giving her the go ahead.
She hadn't expected Lena to accept the offer. Hoped, maybe, but now that Lena's shoulders are there, soft and inviting underneath a well-cut blouse, she finds herself inexplicably drawn towards them. Before she knows what's happening, her hands are resting on the expensive shirt and she can feel every breath Lena takes, can feel the moment her boss stiffens up at the contact.
Lena, meanwhile, has to stifle a gasp when Kara's hands press into her shoulders. They burn through the cloth, hot and heavy, and a zap of electricity shoots up her spine, burying itself in her brain, the part of her brain that convinced her to hire Kara in the first place. The part that constantly calls Kara to her office for inane, silly errands that the CEO can do on her own (make a copy of this!, hand me that paper!, find me the number for the place down the street!), just so she can be in her orbit for a little while longer.
Slowly, Kara starts to move her hands back and forth, and Lena lets herself be lulled into the comforting sensation of her first massage in years. Kara is the first person the touch her with any level of intimacy—even though she's just helping her relieve stress, Lena says sternly to herself—since she came out to National City and left Jack behind.
In the darkened office, Kara's hands on her body, Lena finally feels like herself, and she releases a year-old sigh that turns into a moan as Kara hits a tight knot. It could be her imagination, but Kara's hands seem to shake at that, and she keeps her mouth firmly clamped for the rest of the brief, blissful massage.
The meeting later that afternoon triggers the migraine into a violent relapse, ruining the brief bliss that Kara's fingers worked into her shoulders. Morgan Edge is sitting in one of the conference rooms and acting like he's the most important man in the room, and she can't take it. Her office is still blacked out by the blinds and she longs to escape there, but he's discussing investments and properties and she knows she has to see the meeting through.
When Kara runs by the conference on the way to the break room she sees Lena sitting stiffly, her brow furrowed in concentration, but it's not the fake concentration she's used before when talking to Edge.
It's a concentration that says she's retreating into herself, and her hand, clenched in a fist under the table, is a warning sign that bothers Kara for the three minutes it takes her to boil water for tea. Grabbing an herb and mint mix, she takes a steadying breath and steels herself before opening the heavy glass door.
Morgan Edge looks up from his powerpoint with an annoyed air that dissipates when he sees it's just her—just an insignificant, bumbling assistant. He points at her to put the cup down and leave and goes back to his speech, but Kara doesn't do either of those things.
She has to clear her throat twice to get Lena's attention since the brunette is staring intensely at the table, her jaw clenched in discomfort, and by then everyone in the room is looking at her. Lena seems surprised to see her, checking her watch to make sure Kara isn't early (which she is).
“Kara?” Her voice is strained. Clearly she's trying to keep her head up in front of all the board members, but Kara knows her well enough to know it's all an act.
“Ms. Luthor, you're needed on the phone,” she says timidly, only half pretending to be afraid of the power of all the people in the room. Her awkward shyness comes to her aid, making it appear like she's nervous and in a rush, that something urgent is happening somewhere else in the building that requires Lena's attention.
Lena blinks once, twice, looking confused. She doesn't have time to fix another problem, she can barely handle Edge's grating voice in her over-sensitive ears. “Can you take a message?” she asks primly, very aware of everyone's eyes on her.
“It's extremely urgent,” Kara says, putting a note of panic into her voice. She brushes at her braid with a frantic hand, pushes her glasses up her nose. “The government man said something about needing a response right now about the building on the coastline—”
“Lena, by all means. If you have to go.” Morgan Edge looks peeved to have been interrupted but his eyes glint at “building on the coastline.” If L-Corp needs help constructing those buildings, he knows they'll turn to his company.
Gathering her things, Lena follows Kara out with a confused but collected air about her and they hurry down the hall. Once they get to Lena's darkened office, however, Kara slows her pace and locks the doors behind her.
Lena glances around, confused. The computer isn't on, the phones aren't blinking with the familiar 'call holding' light, and the TV screen is blank.
“I thought you said someone was on the phone?”
“Oh. That was all a lie.” Kara grins at her boss, feeling like a teenager sneaking out of class. “I figured you wanted to get out of there.”
Lena just closes her eyes, shaking her head. When she speaks, she keeps her voice light so Kara knows she isn't angry with her even as she reprimands her trick. “That was an important meeting, Kara, I needed to be there. I take it there's no one asking about coastline buildings?”
“I just said that because I knew Edge wouldn't let you leave unless it benefited him.”
“Are you sure you're not a Luthor?” Arching a thick eyebrow, Lena gives her a pained smile. “But really, you shouldn't have done that—”
“All due respect, Ms. Luthor, you looked like your head was about to split open so I—”
“I don't need—”
“I understand that you're a genius head of a science and pharmaceutical company, but you don't seem to know anything about taking care of a human body. Specifically," she continues when Lena's brow raises, " You need to take care of yourself. Now sit down.” Kara's tone is firm but not angry, and she feels a quiet thrill at the way Lena obeys her without question.
She takes a seat on the couch, leaning back with a sigh.
“Can you get me an Excedrin? Or something stronger, so I can pass out until this migraine is gone?” She's only half-joking since, once again, she stayed up far too late working on research and squinting at her computer.
Nosing her way through the cabinets, Kara's eyes flick between the contents and Lena, who is pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut tight against the light squeezing into the room.
“My mother used to say tea was good for headaches,” she says, reading the labels on the assortment of pill bottles cluttering Lena's cabinets. “I got you some, if you want it.”
“Sure.” Lena is trying to shut off her brain, knowing the constant grinding will only make things worse. She focuses on Kara's voice, low and soothing, and lets out a long sigh.
Kara's voice relaxes her in a way that almost makes her wary—the last time someone's voice had that effect on her, it was her brother. Her brother before he went mad, when she thought she could trust him and adored him, when she worshiped him.
“She also used to say that you can't make an omelet without breaking an egg,” Kara adds randomly, spilling three Excedrin into her palm and handing them to Lena, passing her the mug of tea as well with slightly shaking hands.
“I think everyone says that, Kara.” Lena swallows the pills with a sip of tea.
They sit there in silence, Kara watching every move Lena makes. A half hour later, Lena, still with her eyes closed, pats the couch next to her.
“Sit.” It's more a command than an offer, but Kara is more than happy to oblige. Anything to bring her closer to Lena and her expensive perfume and soft, perfect shiny hair.
Her headache has abated and the room is a comfortable temperature, and after another half hour passes, she crosses the invisible line with a fierce boldness she usually reserves for the boardroom.
Pretending she's fallen asleep against the back of the couch, she slides over, leaning until her head is resting gently on Kara's shoulder. Her assistant freezes at the contact, afraid of waking her up.
“Lena?” Kara's whisper is soft and full of concern, but Lena keeps the act going, sighing and shifting in her sleep so her head falls down a few more inches.
After one more try, Kara gives up on waking her and tries not to move a muscle, but a few minutes later she starts to hum softly. Lena can feel the vibrations through the blonde's chest and they start to really lull her into a deep sleep. She doesn't even stop to think that it's only 3 o'clock in the afternoon as her eyelids get heavier, and when Kara helps her stretch out on the couch because she's fallen over so much, she doesn't object to the warm hands moving across her back, settling her in and draping a Kara-scented coat over her body as her head rests on the tops of Kara's thighs.
“You know,” Kara whispers to the empty room, “You're not nearly as bad as you think you are.”
Just on the edge of unconsciousness, Lena pulls herself back, hanging onto the words that Kara thinks are disappearing into empty ears.
“I know everyone says you must be a bad person because you're a Luthor, and I know you sometimes let yourself believe them. But they're wrong. And you're wrong. You are nothing like your family. You're such a good person, I just wanted to tell you, just once. Even if you can't really hear me,” Kara adds, resting her arm on Lena's shoulder. “Everything you do with your work is for the good of humanity, even if they can't appreciate it.”
“You're my hero.”