Chapter Text
Lena’s hand feels sweaty in her own, her sweet one entirely unused to the blistering, summer heat of Andrea’s home city. They’ve been walking around for an hour or so since lunch—Andrea plying Lena with water the whole time—but it seems Lena needs another break; even if she’s unwilling to say it, and Andrea takes action that won’t cause any whining to erupt.
“I think I need something sweet,” Andrea states, steering Kara and Lena towards a side street.
She hasn’t been here in years, but if there’s any justice in the world, her favorite little cafe should still be thriving. Her Abuela often brought her here as a child and Andrea would sneak a visit whenever business brought her here for a day or two, and it’s somewhere that her girls have to see.
It’s the most special of her childhood memories. It’s where Andrea first tasted alfajores, where she first learned to appreciate the way food could be a love language.
“I could eat,” Kara shrugs.
Andrea rolls her eyes, but doesn’t pass comment because, really, when is Kara not ready to eat?
“I think you’ll like it here,” she says, turning the corner to find the cafe. It’s busy, of course, a favorite amongst the locals, and the only table available is outside on the patio. “You’re about to experience something very special,” Andrea grins, all lingering stress floating away from her shoulders as they settle around the small table. “Trust me, you’ll never want to leave.”
A waiter instantly appears with a jug of ice water and three glasses, leaving menus behind with a promise to return soon. Andrea thanks him, but her smile slips away when she looks at Lena.
She tsks and adjusts the parasol above their table to ensure Lena is fully protected from the midday sun. She frowns at her pink shoulders, lightly burned despite how often Andrea has been helping her to re-apply sunscreen to avoid exactly this.
Lena looks miserable, not at all built for such heat, her cheeks flushed as she holds her cold glass of ice water against her forehead, but she has been kind enough to keep her complaints to herself. Kara, on the other hand, is relishing the sun, even going as far as to push her chair out as far as possible in order to sunbathe while they wait for the waiter to return.
Kara and Lena both leave Andrea to order for them since they are, both of them trusting that she’s well versed in their likes and dislikes by now. When the waiter appears again, his smile polite but expectant, Andrea wastes no time in ordering an assortment of her favorite sweet treats for them all.
Alfajores, medialunas, and of course, some dulce de leche to make their treats all the sweeter. The waiter promises it won’t take long and heads back inside, and Andrea takes a look around, recognizing a few faces that are a little more weathered than that last time she was here. It makes her smile, and for a moment it feels like her Abuela is still here.
Andrea leans back in her chair as they wait for their food, content to just sit quietly with her girls. Lena seems to be dealing with the heat a little better now, her shoulders less tense as she sips at her cold water. It’s Kara, though, that brings a smile to Andrea’s lips. She is practically vibrating with excitement, her pretty blue eyes daring towards the door every time someones passes by
“My abuela used to bring me here all the time when I was little,” Andrea says, her small smile nostalgic; bittersweet. “This was our spot. We’d sit here for hours and just talk about everything going on in our lives, about school, about whatever my abuela was reading for book club that week.” She sips at her water and sighs softly, “even when I was a little older and interning at Obsidian, it was our safe place. No work talk allowed.”
“It sounds nice,” Lena murmurs, her eyes shining with a wistfulness that could only be expected from someone who never had such a connection when she was growing up. Lena doesn’t seem outright jealous, though. If anything, she seems happy to simply be here, that such a place exists.
“My aunt used to take me out once a week, too,” Kara joins in. “It was our time, and she’d tell me all about the battles she had taken part in and teach me to fight.” She laughs softly, “it was a lot of fun, but my mother didn’t quite appreciate that part.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Lena teases.
Andrea grins and shakes her head as she pictures a little Kara learning how to fight with a massive, beaming smile on her face. It makes her think about whether or not they would have a child together in the future, easily imagining Kara being the easygoing parent while Lena most likely builds a protective suit for their little one to face the world with.
“You’re quiet,” Lena murmurs, her hand moving across the table to slip into Andrea’s, “you okay?”
“Yeah, baby,” Andrea squeezes Lena’s hand. “I'm great… I’m just thinking.”
When the waiter returns, he is carrying a tray piled high with pasties and sweet treats, and Andrea is pretty sure that she hears Kara’s jaw drop. Even Lena sits up a little straighter as the tray is placed on the table, Andrea’s mouth damn near watering as she inhales the sweet aroma of her childhood. She smiles and reaches out for an alfajor and hands it to Lena.
“Here, try this one first.”
Andrea watches in anticipation as Lena takes it and takes a bite, her expression instantly melting into pure delight.
“Oh my god.” Lena’s moan is damn near pornographic and draws attention from the locals sitting at the nearby tables. “That’s incredible.”
“Amazing,” Kara agrees, halfway through a medialuna, crumbs falling from onto the table. “Why haven’t you made these for us before?!” Kara is almost accusatory, as though she can’t at all comprehend why on Earth Andrea would keep the deliciousness away from them.
“It’s just better here,” Andrea shrugs, “but maybe we can visit again soon using Zor-El Airlines?” She grins and reaches for a knife, using it to spread dulce de leche on the pastries, “but first, you gotta try it how my abuela always gave it to me. She always told me it was a cardinal sin to ignore the dulce de leche if you are lucky enough to have it on your table when others did not.”
She watches as Kara all but inhales another pastry, her eyes growing wider than dishplates.
“You know,” Kara swallows harshly enough to make Andrea and Lena grimace, “I didn’t think I’d ever wanna break up with you, but withholding this makes me come pretty close.” She takes another huge bite, “I mean, why wouldn’t you want to share this with us immediately?!”
“Well,” Andrea casually dips her finger into the dulce de leche and exaggeratedly sucks it off, “I guess I’ll have to find some way to make it up to you, huh?”