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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Days passed, and Lena learned that sleep was a luxury she’d never appreciated enough. The once pristine quiet of her penthouse was now filled with the relentless soundtrack of a crying baby. Correction—a screaming baby. Lena was convinced that El (because she still couldn’t bring herself to say "Lillian") had lungs capable of shattering glass.

Lena stood in the kitchen, dishevelled, her silk blouse wrinkled and adorned with a generous smear of baby formula. She stared at the bottle she’d spent the last fifteen minutes preparing—the perfect temperature, precisely measured—and watched in horror as El rejected it for the fifth time that morning.

"Great," Lena muttered.

El’s cries only grew louder, as if mocking her incompetence. Lena took a deep breath, trying to channel every ounce of patience she had left. "Listen, El," she said, "We need to talk about this...arrangement."

El responded with a wail so piercing, Lena was convinced dogs three blocks away were now deaf.

"Is this revenge? For Lex?" Lena rubbed her temples. "Because, honestly, I get it. But could we maybe—just maybe—discuss it in less...audible terms?"

The baby continued screaming. Lena tried picking her up—awkwardly, cautiously, as if the tiny human were made of porcelain. "Okay, okay. Shhh," she said, swaying side to side. It worked in the movies, didn’t it? Except El just flailed harder, her tiny fists catching Lena squarely in the jaw.

"Ow!" Lena pulled back, more startled than hurt. She narrowed her eyes at the red-faced infant. "So, it’s going to be like this, huh? You and me, mortal enemies for the next 18 years."

Jess chose that exact moment to knock lightly and poke her head into the room. The look on her face was equal parts horror and amusement. "How’s it going?"

"Splendid," Lena deadpanned. She gestured to the floor, where an array of failed pacifiers, bottles, and baby toys lay in various stages of defeat. "I think I’m breaking records for the number of ways a single human can fail at keeping another human happy."

Jess stepped inside, a grin tugging at her lips. "Would you like some help?"

"I’ve tried everything. She cries if I put her down. She cries if I pick her up. She cries if I look at her."

"It’s normal, Miss. Luthor. Babies cry."

"Do they cry this much?" Lena asked, bouncing El slightly in her arms, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. "I’m starting to think she was sent here to ruin me. The Luthor legacy: brought to its knees by a three-month-old."

Jess took pity and gently reached out. "May I?"

Lena hesitated—just a moment—before handing El over. Instantly, the baby’s cries softened to a whimper. Then, inexplicably, she fell silent. Lena stared, slack-jawed.

"Are you kidding me?" she exclaimed. "You hold her and she just...stops?"

Jess rocked El gently, offering Lena a sympathetic smile. "Don't take it personally."

"‘Don't take it personally?,’" Lena repeated, incredulity dripping from every syllable. She sank onto the nearest stool, head in her hands. "I’m doomed."

"Not doomed," Jess said lightly, adjusting El’s blanket. "Just...learning."

Jess had been her saving grace. Coming from a large family teeming with cousins, nieces, and nephews, Jess had an effortless touch with babies that Lena couldn’t seem to replicate. Everything about Lena’s attempts felt awkward and forced, as if El could sense her hesitation.

She had hoped—desperately—that she would settle into this... role. That something maternal would click, like a switch flipping on. But days had passed, and still, she felt like she was fumbling in the dark. Every cry from El seemed like an indictment, every failed attempt to soothe her another piece of evidence to fuel the nagging voice in the back of her mind.

Kara would know exactly what to do, the voice whispered cruelly. Kara would be a natural. Of course she would—she’s Supergirl. Miss perfect in every way.

And Lena? Lena was the opposite. Tainted, broken on the inside in ways no amount of success could fix. The baby could sense it—her unworthiness, her cracks. And for a fleeting, terrible moment, Lena wondered if she could ever truly be what El needed.

She watched El nestle into Jess’s shoulder, a tiny, content bundle of betrayal. "Traitor," she muttered under her breath, "You really are going to be trouble, aren’t you? Maybe I should put you in charge, Jess.”

“Would you like to try again?” Jess asked gently, “Sometimes they just need to get it out of their system.”

Lena hesitated, but knew this was her responsibility—her choice. She couldn’t give up, not now. “Yes,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt. She held out her arms.

Carefully, Jess transferred El back into Lena’s embrace. The shift was slow, tentative. Lena braced herself for another round of screams. But El simply nestled closer, a tiny hand brushing against Lena’s collarbone. Her breathing remained steady, and for the first time, she seemed...calm.

Lena blinked, stunned. “Thank you,” she whispered, more to the baby than to anyone else.

Jess stepped back, giving them space. “Looks like you’ve got it covered.”

Lena glanced up, meeting Jess’s warm gaze. “Thank you for...coming. For...this.” She gestured vaguely, the weight of her gratitude making her words clumsy. It was rare for Lena Luthor to need help, rarer still for her to admit it.

Jess smiled softly. “Anytime. You know that.”

For a long time, Lena just stood there, holding El and feeling the quiet weight of the baby against her chest. It was fragile, this moment—tentative and uncertain. But it was a start.

“I’ll let you two...bond,” Jess said, nodding toward the door. “But I’m just a call away.”

Lena nodded, her eyes never leaving El’s peaceful face. “Thank you, Jess.”

When Jess left, closing the door softly behind her, the silence felt different. Lena adjusted her hold, feeling El’s warmth seep into her. The baby shifted, letting out a soft sigh, but didn’t cry. It was a small miracle, and Lena clung to it.

“Okay, El,” she whispered, the name feeling slightly less foreign on her tongue. “Let’s see if we can get through the next five minutes without a meltdown.”

The baby remained quiet, her tiny fingers curling against Lena’s chest. Lena let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. It was just one moment. But it was theirs.

**

A week had passed since Lena had brought El home. Seven days of crying fits, sleepless nights, and moments of doubt so overwhelming she thought she might drown in them. But there had also been small victories—brief, precious moments when El’s cries softened, when she’d nuzzle closer and Lena felt something that almost resembled peace.

Lena was in the middle of one of those rare moments of calm when the buzzer on the door sounded, loud and persistent. She closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath. She just wanted five minutes of quiet; was that really too much to ask?

The buzzer continued, more insistent this time. With a sigh, Lena made her way to the door, cradling El tightly. She pressed a button on the panel, and the door slid open to reveal Alex Danvers. 

The older Danvers sister looked both relieved and exasperated, her eyes scanning Lena with a mix of concern and frustration.

“Lena,” Alex said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I’ve been to your office—multiple times. You’re never there. What the hell is going on?”

Lena’s jaw tightened. “Nice to see you too, Alex.”

Alex opened her mouth to respond, but then she noticed the bundle in Lena’s arms. She blinked, her eyes widening. “Is that...a baby?”

Lena couldn’t help the tired laugh that escaped her. “No, it's a Giraffe.”

Alex’s eyes rolled. “Why do you have a baby?”

I kidnapped her, she wanted to say, because I am a villain that you can't trust, remember?

Instead, she adjusted her grip on El, and said - “This is El. She’s...Lex’s daughter.”

“Lex had a daughter?”

“Apparently.” Lena’s voice was clipped, “And now she’s my responsibility.”

“Wait.” Alex held up a hand, as if trying to stop the flood of information. “You’re raising her? By yourself?”

Lena’s eyes flashed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Alex shook her head slowly, taking in the sight of Lena—dishevelled, tired, and very clearly in over her head—with a mixture of shock and sympathy. “No, I just... Lena, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t owe you anything,” Lena snapped.

Alex’s expression softened. She stepped closer, her voice gentler. “But...are you okay?”

"You have no right to ask me that." 

"Lena, you don’t have to do this alone.”

“I do. I have no one else." 

“You have me. You have Kara.” Alex said, as if it were that simple. As if she could just wipe away years of lies with some heartfelt words.  

“I never had Kara.”

“You did - you do. She is devastated, Lena - she’s called and texted you every day for weeks.”

“Spare me,” Lena snapped, her voice trembling with fury. “Her words mean nothing. She lied. She pretended to be my friend while keeping me in the dark.”

And now you come into my home trying to make me feel guilty when I am just trying to protect my own heart. 

“She was afraid if she told you, she would lose you.”

“Well, she lost me anyway,” 

“Lena—”

“No,” Lena interrupted, her voice rising. “She doesn’t get a free pass because wears a cape and plays the hero. She lied to me. Over and over. So you can go back to her and tell her exactly what I think.”

Alex swallowed, her shoulders sagging. 

“Tell her to stay away from me. Tell her I’m done. Tell her I said...fuck Kara and fuck Supergirl.”

She wanted to scream the words, to hurl them with all the venom clawing its way up her throat, but the baby in her arms grounded her. El didn’t deserve to bear witness to such raw fury. But oh, the anger was there—building and boiling, churning like a storm with nowhere to go. 

She wanted to hit Kara, to shove her away and scream in her face until her throat was raw. She wanted to sob, to crumble against her and demand an answer, a reason, a something to make sense of the gaping wound of betrayal ripping her apart.

God, how could she do this to them? To her? To the fragile trust Lena had dared to place in someone for the first time in years?

Alex said nothing. She gave Lena one last look before turning and walking to the door.

When she was gone, Lena sank into the nearest chair, her heart pounding. For a long moment, she sat perfectly still, her grip on El tightening. The baby, sensing the shift, squirmed but didn’t cry. 

The first tear slipped free, burning a hot path down her cheek. She tried to choke it back, but it broke free with a force that left her trembling. One tear became two, then three, until the dam burst completely. She pressed her forehead against El’s soft, downy head, her shoulders shaking with the force of her grief.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words barely audible through her sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

She wasn’t sure who she was apologising to—the baby in her arms, herself, or the version of her that had once believed in trust and friendship. It didn’t matter. Nothing made sense anymore. 

She cried for the loss of the life she thought she’d had, for the friend she thought Kara was, for the tangled mess of love and hatred that now defined every thought of Supergirl. She cried for the weight of the child in her arms, for the fear of failing her, for the legacy she was trying to escape.

El stirred, letting out a small, confused whimper. Lena pulled her closer, the warmth of the baby’s body grounding her in the midst of her despair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, voice breaking. “I’m trying. I’m trying so hard.”

When the tears finally slowed, leaving her drained and hollow, Lena leaned back against the cushions, holding El tightly. She felt empty, but there was no room to retreat, no time to hide.

Wiping her face with trembling fingers, Lena whispered, “We’ll get through this, El. Somehow.” The words felt hollow, but they were all she had left to give.

She wasn’t ready to forgive. She wasn’t ready to trust. But as long as she could still hold on, even through the tears, she wasn’t ready to give up either.

**

The next morning Lena woke to the sound of El’s fussing, softer and weaker than usual. At first, she assumed it was the usual routine—an early-morning cry for a bottle or a change. But as she leaned over the bassinet and lifted El into her arms, something felt wrong.

The baby’s small face was flushed, and when Lena touched her forehead, a pang of alarm shot through her. She feels hot. Too hot.

“What’s wrong, little one? Hmm?”

She carried El to the kitchen and prepared a bottle. The baby stirred, her cries soft but insistent. Lena pressed the nipple of the bottle to her lips, but El turned away, her little face scrunching in discomfort.

“No, no,” Lena murmured, trying again. “You have to eat.”

They’d gotten past this! They’d built a routine, hadn’t they? El trusted her now, Lena told herself. She had to. After all, the baby had been taking bottles from her without protest for days, greedily draining them as if to make up for lost time. Jess had even said she had a good appetite, something to be proud of.

But El refused, her cries growing weaker. The panic started as a small knot in Lena’s stomach but spread quickly, climbing up her throat until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She paced the living room, bouncing El gently, trying to soothe her. Nothing worked.

She called Jess first. “What do I do?” she asked, her voice tight with desperation. “She’s warm, and she won’t eat.”

“Did you try giving her a bath to cool her down?” Jess suggested. “Sometimes that helps.”

Lena did. It didn’t.

Hours ticked by, each one chipping away at Lena’s composure. She scoured parenting forums online, flipping between them and medical articles that made her heart race. Words like fever, dehydration, and infection blared on the screen, each one more terrifying than the last.

By mid-morning, she was pacing again, El bundled in her arms. Her phone buzzed on the counter—another message from Kara, no doubt—but she ignored it. Her mind was consumed with the decision she was avoiding.

Take her to a doctor, a rational voice in her head said. But she hesitated. Her thoughts circled back to Alex. Reliable, capable Alex, who knew things no one else did, who had handled situations like this a thousand times over. Who had said she didn't need to do this alone.

She was still angry at Alex—at all of them. But that didn’t change the fact that Alex was her best option. The one person she could trust with El, even if she didn’t trust her with much else right now.

Her decision made, Lena wrapped El in a blanket, her hands trembling as she grabbed her keys. She placed the baby in her car seat, whispering, “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

**

When Lena arrived at the nondescript warehouse - a cover for the DEO - she didn’t bother with pleasantries. She parked haphazardly, grabbed her tablet, and carried El in one arm as she approached the side of the building.

The DEO was supposed to be a secret facility, but Lena was a Luthor, and very little remained secret from Luthors. She wasn’t about to waste time knocking politely or trying to charm her way past whatever cover story they had for unwelcome visitors—no, this required a far more direct approach.

She pressed her tablet against the wall, a custom program running before the screen lit up with a stream of encrypted data. “Let’s see,” she muttered, her fingers flying over the screen. “Three-layer encryption, biometric bypass...child’s play.”

El let out a small whimper, and Lena kissed the top of her head. “Almost there, baby. Hold on.”

The first layer of security fell quickly. The second required a bit more effort, but Lena smirked as her program bypassed it with a sequence she’d used once to hack Lex’s private servers when she first acquired L-Corp. The final layer—a failsafe alarm—blinked ominously on her screen. Lena typed faster, sweat beading on her brow. “We got this,” she muttered. “You’re not smarter than me.”

A soft ping from the tablet confirmed her success, and the heavy metal doors slid open with a groan.

El stirred in her arms as Lena stepped inside. “And they call this top-secret,” she muttered, striding confidently through the corridor.

The sound of rapid footsteps reached her ears just before a group of armed agents rounded the corner, weapons raised. Lena stopped abruptly, her heart racing, but her expression was defiant. She rotated her body slightly, bringing her arms securely around El.

“Stay back, intruder!” one of the agents barked, his rifle aimed squarely at her.

Lena’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. 

“Stand down!” J’onn’s commanding voice cut through the tension as he stepped into view, his own weapon lowered. His gaze locked onto Lena.

“Sir, it’s Lena Luthor,” one of the agents hissed, his weapon still trained on her. “We can’t just—”

“I said stand down!” J’onn barked, stepping in front of Lena and raising a hand. Reluctantly, the agents lowered their weapons, though their stances remained tense.

J’onn turned back to Lena, his brows furrowed. “What do you need?”

Emotion bubbled up from her chest. It was the concerned, father-like look in his eyes—steady, grounding, and so achingly genuine. She hadn’t seen him since before she’d learned the truth, before the world had upended itself with lies and revelations.

He had made no attempt to contact her in the aftermath. At the time, it had felt like one more betrayal, one more person in the circle of trust who had kept her in the dark. Yet, standing here now, facing him for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she sensed something different.

There was no judgment in his gaze. No wariness or reservation. Only concern, quiet and resolute, like a hand extended in the dark.

And she realized, with a sharp pang, that he cared.

He had always cared.

“I need Alex,” she said, “Something’s...something's wrong with El.”

J’onn’s eyes flicked to the baby in her arms, “Fine. But this is a highly classified government facility, Lena, not a walk-in clinic.”

“Noted,” she snapped, brushing past him. “Where is she?”

Before J’onn could respond, Kara appeared from another hallway, her signature red cape flowing behind her like it had a life of its own. Her eyes widened the moment they landed on Lena, then dropped immediately to the baby cradled in her arms.

“Lena?” Kara’s voice was hesitant, almost disbelieving, tinged with that hopeful earnestness that had once been Lena’s undoing.

“Not now, Kara,” Lena said sharply, her pace unyielding as she continued down the corridor.

But god, the feeling that roiled in her stomach at the sight of Kara—here, in person, in that god-awful cape—was like a punch to the gut.

Because all Lena could think about was everything she had lost.

She wanted to hate the cape. It was an emblem of all the lies, the deceit, the secret half of Kara’s life that Lena had been so blind to. Yet, even as the anger flared, it collided with something much softer, much harder to control: the part of her that ached to see Kara, that longed for the ease of their old friendship, their mornings with coffee and laughter.

But this wasn’t the time for those feelings.

Kara followed her, concern etched into her face. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?”

“I said not now.” She spotted Alex emerging from a room ahead and rushed toward her. “Alex!”

Alex frowned, taking in Lena’s dishevelled appearance and the baby in her arms. “Lena? What’s going on?”

“She’s warm, she won’t eat, and she’s been like this for hours. I don’t know what to do.”

The switch in Alex was instant, a seamless transition from concerned sister to trained agent. Her movements were swift but gentle as she stepped forward and carefully took El from Lena’s arms.

Lena stiffened, instinctively reaching out as if to pull her back, but stopped herself. Her arms felt unbearably empty, the absence of El’s small weight a sudden, aching void. The bile rose in her throat, a physical manifestation of her helplessness, of her failure to solve whatever was wrong with her little girl.

But this was for the best.

Alex would help her.

“Okay. Let me take her and run some tests. It’s probably nothing serious, but we’ll figure it out.”

Kara hovered nearby, her usual larger-than-life presence muted by the tension in the air. Lena’s gaze flicked to her despite herself, and it hurt—hurt to see how much worry filled Kara’s eyes, how her hands fidgeted at her sides as though resisting the urge to reach out. “Lena, I can—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupted, her voice tired. “Please, don't.”

Kara flinched, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she stayed nearby, her and Lena's eyes trained on Alex and El as they left for the medical bay. 

**

When Alex returned from the medical bay, Lena shot to her feet. Alex held El, swaddled and calm, in her arms, but Lena noted her expression seemed...hesitant.

“She’s okay,” Alex said gently, but there was a something behind her words that made Lena’s stomach twist. “She’s not in any danger. The illness isn’t serious, but it’s...unusual.”

“What do you mean, ‘unusual’?” Lena demanded as she reached for El. 

“I’ll explain,” Alex said, handing El over. “But first, I need you to take a breath, Lena. She’s going to be fine.”

The moment El was back in her arms, a calmness washed over Lena, as though the entire world had clicked back into place. She held El close, breathing in the faint scent of baby shampoo, and a wave of relief, so profound it made her knees weak, overtook her. As someone who had spent most of her life building fortresses around herself—used to being alone, to not needing anyone—it was disconcerting to crave this connection so strongly. 

“What’s wrong with her?” she pressed.

“It’s something specific to her physiology,” Alex began, glancing briefly at Kara, who had moved closer. “She’s...Kryptonian.”

Lena stared at Alex, then at Kara, and finally at El. “That’s impossible,” she said, shaking her head. “She's Lex's baby? How could she be Kryptonian?”

“We don’t know exactly,” Alex said carefully. “But her biology is unmistakable. She has Kryptonian cells. She’s at least part Kryptonian.”

Lena's grip on El tightened. She looked at Kara, who stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the baby. There was something raw and unguarded in Kara’s expression—grief, hope, and something Lena couldn’t quite name.

“She’s...like me?” Kara whispered.

For all the anger Lena carried, she couldn’t ignore the emotion on Kara’s face. She wasn’t just looking at a baby; she was looking at a piece of her lost world.

"We would need to complete a full DNA test to confirm that she is Lex's biologically. Also to identify where her Kryptonian DNA is from.” Alex continued. 

“And what does this mean for her? Is she going to develop powers? Is she going to—”

“Develop normally?” Alex finished gently. “It’s hard to say. If she’s part human, her development might be different from a fully Kryptonian child. As far as we know, she'd is the first of her kind. And her illness today? That was because of her Kryptonian side.”

“What do you mean?” Lena asked.

Alex hesitated, glancing at Kara. 

Kara nodded, as if granting Alex permission to proceed with whatever explanation she was about to provide. It was subtle, a simple gesture, but it sent a bolt of anger through Lena so sharp she nearly flinched.

This wasn’t about Kara. This wasn’t about her secrets or her identity. This was about El.

And yet, here was Kara, as though she were the gatekeeper to some sacred Kryptonian knowledge that Lena wasn’t entitled to unless approved by her. The implication, whether intentional or not, that Lena still wasn’t fully trusted in matters concerning El’s heritage was infuriating.

Her jaw tightened, and she glared pointedly at Alex. “I wasn’t aware I needed her permission to learn about my ...El's physiology,” 

Alex’s eyes flicked to Kara, and then back to Lena. 

“That’s not what I was trying to do. I just—” Kara began, but Lena cut her off.

“You just what, Kara?” Lena’s voice cracked with frustration, the dam of emotions threatening to burst. “You just thought you could control this like you control everything else? Like you could decide what I get to know and when?”

For a moment, silence filled the space, heavy and thick. Alex shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught in the middle, her eyes darting between the two women.

Lena swallowed hard, her anger simmering, "Get on with it, Alex." 

Alex cleared her throat, and continued. 

“Kryptonians derive energy and strength from solar radiation. It powers their cells, their biology. El hasn’t been exposed to enough sunlight.” Alex finished. 

Lena blinked, the words not quite registering. “You’re saying she’s sick because...she hasn’t been outside?”

“It’s not just being outside,” Kara interjected softly. “It’s the sun itself. Kryptonian cells absorb solar radiation from Earth’s yellow sun. It’s...it’s what makes us who we are, and gives us powers.”

Lena stared at her, then at El. “She’s been inside this whole time,” she murmured, guilt creeping into her voice. “I’ve kept her in the apartment—I thought I was protecting her.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Alex said quickly. “This isn’t something a human child would ever need. But now that we know, it’s an easy fix. A little sunlight each day will help her body function properly.”

Kara stepped closer,  “Lena, I can... She’s Kryptonian, and that means she might needs things a human child doesn’t.”

"Maybe I would know these things if my best friend had been honest with me about who she was. You kept me in the dark and I don't know you at all. Now I have made her sick." She looked down at El, her tiny face so innocent, and felt overwhelming guilt. 

“We know now. We can work together to make sure she has the best support she can. That’s what matters.” Kara's voice was thick with emotion. “I'll do anything to help Lena. I'll tell you everything about myself.”

Lena just looked away, tears stinging her own eyes. “Thank you, Alex,” she said finally.

“Anytime.”

Kara stayed silent, her gaze lingering on El as Lena turned and walked toward the exit. For now, she couldn’t let herself think about the larger implications. All that mattered was El—and making sure she got what she needed.

As Lena stepped into the sunlight outside the DEO, she paused, tilting El’s face toward the golden rays. The baby stirred, a tiny smile tugging at her lips, and Lena’s heart swelled.

***

Lena’s living room was a battlefield of papers, folders, and hard drives, scattered like shrapnel across every surface. The sleek, minimalist design of her apartment was barely visible beneath the chaos. Coffee cups—half-drunk and abandoned—occupied every corner of the space, and her hair was pulled into a haphazard bun, strands falling into her face as she hunched over her laptop.

The screen glowed in the dim light, lines of code and encrypted data scrolling by faster than her tired eyes could track. One of Lex’s personal drives spun noisily in an external reader, a relic she’d pulled from his estate when she’d broken into his private residence days earlier.

She’d expected the place to be stripped clean by the authorities. But enough had been left behind to piece together fragments of his plans—enough for her to dig deeper. And she had. For days. If Lex had any contingencies in place, any traps woven into the child’s existence, Lena would find them. She had to.

Her phone buzzed on the table, but she ignored it. It seemed to never stop buzzing ...the persistent stream of apologies and pleas from Kara, and a check-in text here and there from Alex, filling her inbox. I’ll get to it when I’m ready, she thought. Which might as well mean never.

Her focus sharpened on a file that had just decrypted—a series of medical reports marked with Lex’s insignia and a codename: Project Phanes. Lena’s stomach churned as she opened it. She recognised the reference; Phanes is a Greek deity associated with creation, and life.

The contents of the folder began innocuously enough—notes on Kryptonian biology, referencing Kal-El and Kara Zor-El in cold, clinical terms. But the deeper she delved, the more disturbing the details became. References to genetic splicing, DNA mapping, and embryo development scrolled across her screen.

Lena’s fingers froze on the keyboard when she reached a section labelled Subject #4A: Viability Testing. Her breath caught as the image of a tiny embryo appeared on the screen, flanked by statistics. The DNA contributors were listed: Lex Luthor (Human) and Unknown Kryptonian (Deceased).

“God,” Lena whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes darted to the accompanying notes, her pulse pounding in her ears.

The Kryptonian DNA had been harvested from the wreckage of a pod discovered years ago—a ship carrying a deceased Kryptonian woman whose identity Lex had never uncovered. The pod had been hidden in a private LuthorCorp lab, its contents meticulously stripped for Lex’s experiments.

The mother listed on El’s birth certificate had apparently been nothing more than a surrogate, selected for her physical compatibility with the genetic material. The so-called conjugal visit was a cover—one of Lex’s many lies.

Lena’s heart twisted painfully. El hadn’t been born out of love or even accident. She was the product of obsession, of Lex’s insatiable desire to create the ultimate weapon—a being who could embody Kryptonian strength and Luthor intellect.

“Years,” Lena muttered, her voice trembling. “Years of this.” She scrolled through more files, seeing the lengths Lex had gone to—failed experiments, abandoned embryos, endless trials. All leading to El.

Her gaze fell to the cot where El lay sleeping, her tiny chest rising and falling in the soft glow of a nearby lamp. 

It was too much. The sheer weight of it all pressed down on her like a physical force. She stood abruptly, stepping over the scattered mess on the floor and pacing toward the window. She stared out at the city lights, her reflection faintly visible in the glass.

He didn’t care about her, she thought bitterly. Not as a person, not as family. She was just another experiment. Another weapon.

But then there was another voice, quieter but insistent: She’s more than that now. She’s yours.

Lena wiped her eyes hastily, willing herself to stay composed. She turned back to the room, to the mess of Lex’s twisted legacy. She couldn’t stop now. There had to be more—something she could use to protect El from any remnants of Lex’s plans. From anyone else who might come looking.

The soft cry from the cot broke her thoughts. She crossed the room quickly, lifting El into her arms. .

“You’re not his,” Lena whispered fiercely, her voice cracking. “You’re mine. Do you hear me? Whatever he thought you were, he was wrong.”

**

She fed El and settled her into her cot, taking a moment to appreciate how far they had come together. She was now a source of comfort for El, who trusted her and calmed in her arms instead of screamed in them. The difference a few short weeks could make. 

The soft rustle of wind was the only warning Lena had before a faint thud landed on the balcony outside. She glanced up, her heart skipping when she saw the familiar figure framed by the city lights. Kara stood there, hesitating for a moment before stepping closer to the glass doors.

Lena met Kara’s cautious gaze through the glass. With a resigned sigh, she unlocked the door and opened it.

“Lena,” Kara began, her voice tentative. “I’m sorry for coming this way, but I figured your security wouldn’t let me in.”

She really wasn’t sure why today was the day she decided to let Kara in. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine she had polished off earlier, softening her edges, making her feel more forgiving than usual. Or maybe it was the kicked-puppy look on Kara’s face, finally wearing her down after weeks of stubborn resilience.

It was hard to hold her ground when faced with those impossibly earnest eyes, brimming with a mixture of hope and regret. Eyes that had once been her everything.

This was the same face she used to wake up thinking about. The same person who made her heart skip a beat with every silly text message—song lyrics, pictures of half-eaten potstickers, or random questions about National City trivia—throughout the day.

This was Kara. Her Kara. The one she’d spent hours beside on movie nights, working up the courage to scoot closer until their legs barely brushed. She’d lived for those fleeting touches, for the way Kara’s smile would soften whenever she caught Lena’s gaze.

“You figured right,” Lena said curtly, crossing her arms. “What do you want?”

Her eyes drifted down and she noticed something clutched in Kara's hands. Kara held it out—a small, worn baby blanket. “I wanted to give you this. It was mine when I first arrived on Earth. My mom packed it in my pod...it was one of the last things she ever touched.”

Lena blinked, taken aback by the gesture. The blanket was red with faint silver embroidery along the edges—Kryptonian symbols, she realised. It was simple but beautiful, steeped in history Lena couldn’t begin to understand.

“I thought it might help her feel connected,” Kara continued, her voice faltering. “It’s not much, but it was comforting to me. Maybe it can be comforting to her too.”

Lena hesitated before taking the blanket, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

Kara looked relieved. 

“Where is she?”

“Asleep,” Lena said, “She’s been so much better since...since I started taking her outside every day. Turns out, sunlight does make a difference.”

Kara offered a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m glad. She’s lucky to have you.”

Lucky to have me? Hardly.

Being a Luthor was a curse, a weight she’d carried since the moment she understood what her name meant to the world. Kara was the first person to make Lena feel like it wasn’t. That she could exist beyond the shadow of her family’s legacy.

But she had lied. 

Lena looked away, “Did you come here for anything else?”

“I wanted to apologise. Again. I know you don’t want to hear it, and I won’t make excuses. What I did—I hurt you and...lost you, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Lena clenched her jaw, her emotions warring beneath the surface.

“I won’t bother you anymore,” Kara said softly, taking a step back. “I just...wanted you to know that I’ll be here. If she ever wants to talk, when she’s older, about what it means to be Kryptonian, or if you have questions...I’ll be here. No matter what.”

Lena didn’t respond, and Kara nodded as if she hadn’t expected a response. “I know she probably won’t develop powers like Kal or me, and we don't really know a lot about her origins..." 

There was a long silence before Lena sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I found something,” she said finally, her voice quieter now. “About El. About what Lex did.”

Kara moved closer, her face serious. “What is it?”

Lena hesitated, her fingers fidgeting. She wasn’t sure why she was telling Kara this—why she wasn’t sending her away like every other time. But Kara’s presence still felt maddeningly safe, even after everything.

“He was trying to create the perfect weapon,” Lena began, her voice cold and clinical. “A hybrid of Kryptonian strength and Luthor intellect. Years of experiments, failures, abandoned projects. And then...El.”

Kara sank onto the edge of the couch, and Lena fought the urge to chastise her for assuming she had the right to do so. 

“He used Kryptonian DNA with his DNA?” she asked softly.

Lena nodded, picking up a file and holding it out. “The Krptonian DNA was from a pod he salvaged years ago. The woman inside...she didn’t survive the crash. Lex used her DNA—merged it with his own. The mother listed on the birth certificate was a surrogate. The conjugal visit? A cover.”

Kara took the file, her hands shaking slightly as she skimmed the contents. Her jaw tightened, and Lena could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “That’s...horrible,” Kara murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “Even for Lex.”

Lena leaned back, her arms wrapping around herself. “She was never meant to be a person to him,” she said bitterly. “Just a project. An experiment.”

Kara set the file down carefully, her blue eyes locking onto Lena’s. “But she’s not that to you,” she said firmly. “You’re giving her a life Lex never could have imagined. A real life.”

Lena looked away. She hated how much Kara’s words affected her, how they wormed past her defences and settled deep in her chest.

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken things, until Kara cleared her throat. “Do you want help going through the rest of this?” she asked gently, gesturing to the scattered papers.

Lena hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But don’t touch anything unless I say so.”

Kara smiled faintly. “Got it.”

**

Hours passed as they sifted through the remnants of Lex’s twisted plans. Lena tried to keep things professional, but Kara’s presence made it impossible to ignore the memories of their past—of laughter over coffee, of late-night debates that had nothing to do with life-or-death stakes.

At one point, Kara reached for a stack of papers, her cape brushing against Lena’s arm. Lena flinched instinctively, her eyes darting to the bright red fabric.

“Sorry,” Kara said quickly, pulling back. “I keep forgetting how much space this thing takes up.”

Lena shook her head, forcing a tight smile. “It’s fine. Just...it’s strange seeing you like this.”

Kara frowned, confused. “Like what?”

“In the suit,” Lena admitted, feeling a little silly at the admission, “It’s...disconcerting. I’ve only ever known you as Kara, and now...” She gestured vaguely. “You’re...Her.”

Kara rubbed the back of her neck. “I can take it off if it makes you more comfortable.”

Lena’s eyes widened slightly, and before she could stop herself, her mind went there. Oh no. Nope. Abort. She quickly looked away, her face heating. Yup, now I’ve pictured it. Fantastic. Thanks for that, Kara.

Did it even have a zipper? Surely, it didn’t. Supergirl's suit probably didn’t need something as pedestrian as zippers. It probably responded to thought commands or…molecular bonding. God, Lena, stop.

“That’s not what I meant.” Kara said quickly, looking horrified. Then she chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar, and Lena felt a pang in her chest. She missed this—missed Kara. Not Supergirl, not the hero. Just Kara.

They continued to work in relative silence, the only sounds the rustle of papers and the occasional click of Lena’s laptop. Kara spoke up now and then, pointing out notes she thought were important, but she kept her tone light, careful not to push.

It wasn’t until nearly midnight that Kara sat back with a sigh, her hair slightly mussed from running her fingers through it. “This guy really had no limits, huh?”

Lena glanced at her, surprised by the casual comment. It was such a Kara thing to say, so unlike the polished and perfect Supergirl. She found herself smiling faintly, despite everything.

“No,” Lena agreed. “The word 'Limit' was not in Lex’s vocabulary.”

Kara turned to her, her gaze soft. “Neither in yours, apparently. This? All of this?” She gestured to the chaos around them. “You’ve done more to figure this out in a few days than most people could in years.”

Lena looked down at her hands, her voice quiet. “It’s not enough.”

“It’s more than enough,” Kara said firmly. “El is safe. She’s healthy. And that’s because of you.”

Lena’s heart twisted painfully, and she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Instead, she busied herself with tidying the stack of papers in front of her, though her fingers shook slightly.

Kara didn’t push. She just sat there, her presence calm and steady, until Lena finally spoke again. “She deserves better than this,” Lena murmured. “Better than me.”

Lena’s eyes stung, but she blinked the tears away, refusing to let herself fall apart. Not now. Not in front of Kara.

Still, as the night wore on and they worked side by side, something shifted. It was subtle—a softening, a flicker of the trust they’d once shared. And though Lena wasn’t ready to admit it, she felt it all the same.

When Kara finally left, the room felt emptier than it should have. Lena stood by the window, watching the red cape disappear into the night, and wondered—just for a moment—what it might feel like to forgive.

Chapter Text

The abandoned warehouse was eerily quiet, its cracked windows and rusted beams casting jagged shadows across the floor. Lena stepped inside, her heels echoing faintly in the cavernous space. El was snug in the sling across her chest, her small face peeking out looking unimpressed by her surroundings.

Kara followed close behind, her footsteps nearly silent. She's already surveyed the warehouse to ensure it was safe before allowing Lena to enter. She wasn’t wearing the suit, which Lena appreciated. Kara always arrived in her “Kara clothes” now—neatly pressed button-ups and the glasses that Lena knew were useless but couldn’t imagine her without. It was easier to face this version of her, the version she used to trust.

They'd settled into a tentative...acquaintance-ship. It wasn’t friendship—at least, Lena wouldn’t allow herself to call it that. Not yet. But it was something. Kara was valiant, doggedly helping her dig through El’s origins night after night, sorting through Lex’s files and uncovering fragments of the truth hidden in mountains of chaos. Once El had drifted to sleep, they would work side by side, the soft rustling of papers and the hum of Kara’s reading voice filling the room.

They didn’t talk about much beyond the task at hand. Except for those small moments, fleeting and bittersweet, where the familiarity of their old friendship would slip in—Kara laughing at Lena’s snarky remark, Lena teasing Kara for her clumsy handwriting when she took notes. But Lena never let it last. She wouldn’t. Not after the betrayal. She couldn’t risk letting Kara back in, not entirely. The pain was still too fresh, too sharp.

But there was no denying that they worked well together. They always had. Kara’s optimism balanced Lena’s meticulous analysis, her instinct for finding the thread to pull complementing Lena’s ability to untangle the web once it unravelled. They made a good team, even if Lena couldn’t let herself think of them as anything more than that.

The warehouse was their latest lead after days of exhaustive digging. It could be nothing. Another dead end. But they didn’t have anything to lose by looking.  

“Lex always had a flair for the dramatic,” Lena muttered, glancing around at the rusted metal and concrete decay. “This feels exactly like one of his sanctuaries of madness.”

Kara chuckled softly, “He really was all about the villain image,” she said. “Does this one come with a secret trapdoor?”

“Probably.” Lena adjusted El's sling as she opened her laptop, balancing it on a crate. “I traced the signal here, but whatever Lex did to bury this ship, he made it a pain to find.”

Kara moved closer, the faint brush of her arm against Lena’s as she peered at the screen. Lena stiffened slightly but said nothing. She was used to Kara’s casual proximity—she always had been—but it felt different now. It was impossible to forget everything Kara hadn’t shared with her, all the parts of herself she’d kept hidden. Every movement, every accidental flicker of super strength or speed, reminded Lena of what she’d missed.

She had shared everything with Kara—her fears, her hopes, even the ugliest parts of herself—while Kara had held back an entire half of her existence. 

“Lena?” Kara’s voice broke through her thoughts, hesitant. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said curtly. “Just tired of chasing my brother’s ghosts.”

Kara didn’t push, which somehow made it worse. Instead, she just stood there, radiating quiet patience, as if that would fix anything.

Lena sometimes felt like she wanted a fight—something loud and visceral to match the emotions inside her. Maybe then the jagged pieces of her heart would fit back together, if only she could scream, yell, hurl accusations, and have Kara hurl them back.

But Kara never fought back. Never yelled. Never gave Lena the satisfaction of resistance. It was like trying to use a cloud as a punching bag—soft, and utterly futile. Eventually, you grew tired of swinging at something that wouldn’t hit back.

It made Lena’s anger flare hotter and brighter every time.

"Stop looking at me like that," Lena snapped before she could stop herself.

"Like what?" Kara asked - she seemed surprised, but she still spoke softly, and tilted her head patiently waiting for Lena's reply. It was infuriating.

"Like...like you’re some saint. Like you’re waiting for me to...to forgive you, or whatever it is you think will magically make this right."

Kara’s mouth opened, but then she closed it again, taking a deep breath instead. She didn’t argue, didn’t defend herself. She just stood there, her eyes steady and full of—God, was that hope? It was unbearable.

“I’m sorry,” she said eventually. 

“You’re always sorry,” Lena hissed, “You’re sorry, and you’re kind, and you’re understanding, and do you even realize how much I—” She stopped herself, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She wouldn’t finish that sentence. 

Kara stepped forward, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. “Lena, I—”

“Don’t,” Lena cut her off, holding up a hand.

The screen flashed green, and Lena straightened. “Got it,” she said, her voice clipped. “There’s a hatch—should be just over there.”

They found the access point quickly, but the lock was another matter. Lena crouched down, pulling out a small device to bypass it. She worked in silence, her movements quick but precise.

Kara hovered nearby, clearly restless. Finally, she broke the silence. “You really worked all this out despite how hard Lex tried to hide it. Do you ever sleep?”

“Not when I have work to do,” Lena replied flatly.

Kara shifted, her hands clasping and unclasping. “You’re doing a lot, Lena.”

Lena’s fingers faltered. She kept her focus on the lock. “I’ll settle when I have made sure she’s safe.”

The lock clicked, and Lena stood abruptly, brushing her hands off. “Let’s see what he buried.”

**

The hatch led to a narrow staircase that descended into the building’s foundation. The air grew cooler as they moved. When they reached the bottom, Lena’s breath caught. The ship was there, sleek and intact, its metallic surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. Kryptonian symbols were etched into the hull...so alien to her. 

Kara moved ahead, her steps slowing as she reached out to touch the ship. Lena watched as Kara’s fingers traced one of the symbols, her face unreadable.

“This crest,” Kara said softly, her voice trembling. “It’s from the House of Van-Kor. I didn’t know them well—they were a distant family, one of the lesser houses. But they were kind. I remember that.”

Lena crossed her arms, watching Kara closely. There was something raw in her voice, a vulnerability that felt almost invasive to witness. It struck Lena that this wasn’t just about El’s origins or the potential danger they faced. It was about something deeper—something that went straight to the heart of who Kara was.

And Lena could admit, if only to herself, that it was incomprehensible what Kara must be feeling. To be one of only two known people left from your entire world—your culture, your history, your species—and then to find this. A piece of home you hadn’t known existed. And a child who shared half of that.

“Lex documented that the pod was damaged.” Lena said carefully. “That's why she didn't survive the crash.”

Kara nodded slowly, but her gaze still on the crest. “She must’ve been trying to escape the destruction too. She got so close.” Her voice cracked, and she stepped back, her hands falling to her sides. “It’s just...hard. Knowing someone else tried to come here and didn’t make it.”

Lena looked down at little El in the sling, her own chest tightening at the quiet grief in Kara’s voice. “You survived,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “You and Superman made it. I am sure she would be glad of that.”

Kara turned to look at her, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged with something neither of them could name.

El stirred, her tiny hand reaching out toward Kara, as though sensing the moment.

Though Kara had frequented Lena's penthouse recently, it was always at night, during those quiet, shadowed hours. El was a remarkably good sleeper, and their evenings rarely involved more than hushed conversations and meticulous research while the baby was off in dream land. There were moments, when Lena would glance up from her work to find Kara staring at the crib, her expression soft and faraway, as though she were somewhere else entirely. Lena wasn’t sure what struck her more—the depth of longing on Kara’s face or the careful restraint behind it. Kara seemed to know, instinctively, that this wasn’t her place ... She didn’t ask to hold El, didn’t offer unsolicited advice or try to insert herself into Lena’s world beyond what was necessary for their shared goal.

“She’s reaching for you.” Lena said, realising the interaction didn't really bother her. 

Kara hesitated, her expression flickering with ...surprise? and there was something else. Longing. She realised. Written all over Kara’s face, despite her attempts to mask it.

Call it a moment of weakness, or maybe a moment of clarity, but Lena wanted nothing more than to put an end to the pain in Kara’s eyes.   

 She sighed, the tension in her shoulders loosening just enough for her voice to soften. “Kara, do you want to hold her?” 

Kara blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Are you sure?”

No, she thought, but she shrugged anyway, “I wouldn't have offered it if I wasn't sure.”

Kara smiled her first real smile in...so long. She stepped closer, her movements careful as Lena unhooked the sling and handed El over.

The baby nestled into Kara’s arms easily, her tiny fingers brushing against Kara’s shirt. Kara’s gaze locked onto El like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Lena watched the two of them. 

Kara grinned, her eyes not leaving El. “She’s incredible, Lena.”

Lena’s chest ached. “She is.” 

***

Lena tapped a message into her phone, her thumb lingering over the send button before hitting it decisively. The DEO would handle the ship now, ensuring there was nothing Lex had left behind to haunt her. She felt a faint sense of relief knowing it was no longer her responsibility—at least, not entirely.

Still, their little quest felt frustratingly incomplete, answering a few questions while leaving countless others hanging in the air. At least they had a name now—the name of the family El had come from. But beyond that, what did they really know? What more was there to know? Lena mulled over the stark, simple truth: El was a half-Kryptonian baby, the result of one man’s twisted obsession with power. Her biological mother had been an innocent woman who died trying to escape a planet on the brink of destruction. That was the end of the story.

She slid into the driver’s seat of her car, and glanced over her shoulder toward Kara, who was strapping El into her car seat with careful precision. The baby, who was now almost five months old, kicked her legs enthusiastically, babbling at Kara with what Lena swore sounded like excitement.

Offering a hold of El seemed to be the peace offering Kara had been waiting for. Now it seemed like Kara didn’t want to let El go. She was completely enraptured, eyes sparkling with joy every time El reached for her glasses or patted her cheek. And there was an immediate, almost magnetic attachment that made Lena’s chest tighten with a pang she couldn’t quite name. Was it jealousy?

She shook her head slightly, chastising herself for the thought. Of course Kara would have a way with kids—it was just who she was. Kara was warm and caring and inherently good in a way Lena could never quite believe about herself. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that El took to her so quickly. But it wasn’t just Kara who had a way with kids—El seemed to have a way with Kara.

Kara was making faces now, pulling exaggerated expressions of surprise and delight that had El giggling uncontrollably. The sound was infectious, tugging a reluctant smile to Lena’s lips.

Kara finally shut the car door, giving El a small wave through the window before climbing into the passenger seat. “She’s getting big,” Kara said as they pulled out of the warehouse parking lot, her tone full of wonder.

“She’s healthy,” Lena replied.

“Thank Rao for that.” Kara smiled as she glanced at El again. 

“She’s going to be a handful as she gets older,” The warmth in her tone betrayed the words. She couldn’t help it—she’d grown used to El’s presence, to the little rituals that had woven themselves into her life. The bottles, the tiny socks that always seemed to vanish, the giggles that felt like a reward after sleepless nights. It was exhausting and chaotic, but it was hers.

**

They arrived at Lena’s apartment just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the city in hues of orange and pink. Kara rushed to unbuckle El, cradling her against her chest as they made their way inside. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Lena blurted out as they stepped into her apartment.

It wasn’t significant. It wasn’t some grand gesture of reconciliation or an attempt to rebuild something between them. It was just Lena’s way of saying thank you—for helping her at the warehouse today, for being so kind to El.

But what shocked her, more than the words tumbling unbidden from her lips, was that she hadn’t even realized she wanted Kara to stay until she heard herself say it. And then, like a punch to the chest, she dreaded the idea of Kara saying no.

Kara paused, her eyes wide. “Dinner?”

Lena set her bag down, masking her discomfort with a small nod. “Yes, well...as a thank you...for helping with the ship.”

Kara’s smile was bright enough to rival the sunset outside. “I’d love to.”

**

El was in her high chair, a new addition to Lena’s dining room that seemed perpetually cluttered with baby paraphernalia. 

Feeding in the high chair was a messy, chaotic process that Lena still hadn’t mastered. Neither had Kara, apparently - Pureed carrots were already smeared across the tray and a glob had somehow landed in her hair. 

Lena had read countless baby books and knew that this was part of the process. Mess equals learning, the books had said. Encourage exploration!

Exploration apparently meant flinging mashed peas at the wall.

Lena worked quietly in the kitchen, pretending not to watch. But her gaze kept drifting back to Kara, who looked so Kara tonight—her glasses slightly askew, her button-up rolled at the sleeves, her hair a little messy from their earlier work. And every time El squealed with laughter, Kara’s face lit up like she’d saved the world.

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Lena said as she set plates on the table.

Kara looked up, her cheeks flushing. “Can you blame me?”

No, Lena could not. 

**

After dinner, Kara offered to help clean up, which Lena reluctantly allowed. It felt a bit too personal, having Kara clean her kitchen...but she was exhausted. And Kara seemed so determined to help. So she watched from the couch, holding El against her chest, as Kara moved efficiently in the kitchen, stacking plates and wiping counters with a speed that was decidedly not human.

“Do you always clean up like that?” Lena asked, her tone dry but curious.

Kara froze, her hand mid-wipe. “Uh...like what?”

“Like you’re in a speed trial,” Lena said, arching an eyebrow. “I can practically feel the breeze from here.”

Kara’s face turned red, and she adjusted her glasses nervously. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Lena smirked, shaking her head. “It’s...fine. Just another reminder of how little I knew about you.”

The comment wasn’t barbed, but it landed between them with weight. Kara’s smile faltered, her movements slowing as her gaze dropped to the floor. The playful energy that had been swirling between them dissipated, replaced by a palpable tension. Lena’s smirk slipped, her chest tightening with the realization of how her words had shifted the atmosphere.

She regretted them immediately. Not because they weren’t true—God, they were true—but because she hadn’t meant to say them aloud. Not here, and not now. 

“I never wanted to keep it from you,” Kara said quietly. “I just...I didn’t know how to tell you. When to tell you.”

Lena looked down at El, her fingers brushing over the baby’s soft hair, the rhythmic motion grounding her. “I know,” she said softly, and was surprised to find that she truly meant it.

She’d spent weeks convinced that Kara had hurt her intentionally, that all of them, her so-called friends, had laughed at her ignorance behind her back. It had been so easy to let the anger fester, to build her own narrative of betrayal. But as the days wore on and the rawness dulled, she’d been forced to confront an uncomfortable truth: She knew Kara would not have done this to hurt her. 

Maybe she was trying to protect Lena. Maybe she was scared. But it wasn’t cruelty. And it wasn’t malice. 

Kara didn’t push the moment further. Instead, she moved to sit beside Lena, her presence warm and steady. Lena was grateful for that.

El reached out, her tiny hand brushing against Kara. 

“I can't believe how much she likes you.”

There was something unbearably tender about the way Kara smiled at El, the way her eyes lit up as if the baby were the only one in the room.

Kara chuckled, glancing over at her. “I'll try not to be offended by your disbelief. You used to like me a lot, too, remember.”

Lena felt her cheeks flush but kept her expression cool. “She’s been laughing more lately,” she said, directing the conversation to a safer topic, “Not just those little giggles, but real, full-belly laughs. The kind that make you forget how utterly exhausting she is the rest of the time.”

Kara tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “What makes her laugh like that?”

“Peekaboo,” Lena admitted, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I don’t know why it’s so funny to her, but every time I hide behind her blanket and pop back out, she loses her mind.”

Kara grinned, her eyes sparkling. “That’s adorable. I can’t imagine you doing that, though.”

Lena huffed, “I’ll have you know I’m very good at peekaboo. Do I not seem the type?”

“You seem more the type to teach her quantum physics before she’s old enough to crawl,” Kara teased.

“I can do both.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the soft babble of El’s noises filling the silence. Lena leaned back slightly, watching El as the baby clutched at the edge of her blanket, gnawing on it with determination.

“I’ve been reading up on baby milestones,” Lena said suddenly, her voice a little rushed, as if trying to fill the space. “Did you know they’re supposed to start sitting up around this age? And rolling over—I mean, she’s done that already, but I keep wondering if she’s ahead of schedule because of...well, her biology. It’s fascinating, really, watching her figure out the world.”

Kara perked up, sitting straighter. “Oh, yeah!  Around five months, they’re also supposed to start grabbing things more—like toys. And they might even try mimicking sounds soon. Like if you say ‘mama’ enough.”

Lena blinked, surprised. “You’ve done your research.”

Kara looked sheepish. “Well, yeah. I wanted to make sure I understood...stuff. Normal baby stuff. But I also talked to Martha for, uh...the Kryptonian parts.”

“Martha?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My cousin Clark - his mom,” Kara clarified quickly. “She raised him, and, well, he’s...” Kara was visibly fumbling now. 

Lena stared at her for a long moment. “Clark Kent?” she asked finally, her voice even.

What does he have to do with this?

“Well, yeah,” Kara said, glancing at the baby. “Martha's dealt with all this before, you know. I thought she could help with El because raising Kal...Clark...was...”

“Oh my God, he is Superman,” Lena said, and the words hung heavy in the air. “Clark Kent is Superman?”

Clark fucking Kent. Kara cannot be serious. Lena stared at her, searching for any sign that this was some kind of elaborate joke. But Kara looked sincere—nervous, yes, but completely sincere.

Kara raised her hands defensively. “Er - yes.”

“Oh, for the love of—” Lena pressed her fingers to her temples. “The man who’s been sending me polite emails about L-Corp charity events is Superman?”

Kara opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly struggling to find a response. “He is still a reporter,” she said finally.

Lena didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Maybe both. “So, Clark Kent is Superman, and you spoke to Superman's mom about El? she muttered under her breath, the absurdity of it still settling in. “I cannot decide if that’s ridiculous or sweet.”  

“Can it be both?” Kara ventured cautiously.

Lena’s lips twitched against her will, and she shook her head, looking down at El to hide the warmth spreading across her cheeks. “Of course it can. You’re involved, after all.”

And...this was dangerously toeing the line of flirting. Bad, Lena. She could practically hear her own internal chastisement as she carefully kept her expression neutral. Kara was her friend—no, not even her friend anymore. Her...acquaintance. Yes, that was the safer term.  

Kara grinned, clearly oblivious to Lena's internal struggles. “Martha said Kal was a lot like El seems to be at this age. Curious, wiggly, but not too fussy. She also warned me about the crawling phase—Clark apparently got into a lot of mischief.”

Lena couldn’t help laughing at that. “I can’t imagine Superman as a baby.”

“Martha also said it’s normal to feel overwhelmed sometimes. That it’s okay to not have all the answers right away. She said you can call her if you ever want someone to talk to.”

“I’m sure she would love to chat about babies with the woman whose entire family spent decades plotting to kill her son.” 

“She would never blame you for that. I told her how good you are.” Kara was insistent, big puppy dog eyes staring deep into Lena's. “I told her you’re giving El everything Lex never would have. A home. Love. A future.”

“I don’t know what kind of family I can give her. My life isn’t exactly...stable. I’m still figuring out how to be....”

Kara tilted her head. “A mom?”

A mom. Is that what she was? The thought lingered. Lena had admittedly avoided defining her relationship to El, sidestepping the enormity of what she had taken on. She was her aunt, biologically at least, but adopting her, raising her from such a tiny baby—what did that really make her?

The innocence in those bright eyes when El looked at her, the trust she gave so freely—it felt like an unspoken agreement between them. Lena would protect her, love her, give her everything she needed. But was that enough to make her a mother?

The word felt ... too weighty to claim. Moms were warm, nurturing, the kind of people who instinctively knew what to do. She was clinical, logical—hard edges and sharp corners. And yet...she wanted to be what El needed. 

“That feels like something I don’t deserve to call myself... But she looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world ... like I am her mom.”

“You are,” Kara said with conviction in her voice that made Lena’s chest ache. 

And it was so easy for Kara to say it, like she believed it with every fiber of her being. Kara had always had this unwavering faith in Lena—like she thought Lena could raise mountains or coax the sun to shine if she only decided to try. It was maddening sometimes, the way Kara saw her, as if she were limitless, untouchable by failure or doubt.

Lena’s lips pressed into a thin line as she looked away, trying to hide the way the words stirred something within her. 

“She’s going to grow up so fast, I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

“I am sure that no one ever is. But she’s lucky to have you, Lena.”

“You’re such a sap,” she muttered.

Kara chuckled, “Guilty.”

The moment stretched between them, quiet but charged.

“Thank you,” Lena said softly.

“For what?” Kara asked, her tone equally soft.

“For being ridiculous and sweet,” Lena replied, “And for...caring.”

Kara didn’t respond right away, but the look she gave Lena—warm, steady, and unshakably earnest—was enough.

**

The apartment was uncharacteristically quiet, save for the soft coos of El on her playmat and the rhythmic hum of Lena’s typing. A pile of folded baby clothes sat on the table next to her laptop, evidence of her newfound knack for multitasking. Weeks had passed since the trip to the warehouse, and while life hadn’t exactly returned to normal, it felt...closer. Manageable.

Kara was around a lot—sometimes under the pretence of their ongoing research project, but even that thin excuse had mostly fallen away.

El was thriving. She got her daily dose of sun on the balcony or during their walks at the local park, her cheeks rosy and her bright eyes always alert, taking in the world around her. Her bond with Kara had grown so naturally that Lena couldn’t even find it in herself to be annoyed about it. In truth, it felt...nice. Sharing the load, having someone there to pick up the slack when Lena’s energy ran out.

Kara would lay on the living room floor, sprawled out with El on her stomach, telling her animated stories of adventure or wriggling stuffed animals around as if they had their own personalities.

The only nights Kara wasn’t there were the ones when she had Supergirl duties to attend to...not that Kara ever said that was why, but when she didn't show up, Lena would switch on the news and see her there. Those nights were the hardest. Not because Lena needed her —she was perfectly capable of handling things on her own—but because it reminded her, sharply, of the parts of Kara’s life she could never truly be part of. Those nights, she would sit on the couch after putting El to bed, staring at the glowing city skyline, and try not to think about what Kara might be facing out there.

And then, without fail, the next night would come, and Kara would show up again. Sometimes with a bag of takeout, sometimes with a new toy or outfit for El, always with a soft smile and a warmth that seeped into the spaces Lena hadn’t realized were cold. It wasn’t perfect, and Lena was still navigating what this...thing between them was. But it was something. 

Her phone buzzed on the table, and she reached for it without looking, her eyes still scanning the screen in front of her. 

“Lena Luthor,” she answered briskly.

“Well, hello there, Lena. This is Martha Kent.”

Lena froze, her hands hovering over the keyboard. She blinked, pulling the phone away slightly to stare at the caller ID, which indeed read Martha Kent. She'd saved the number in her phone at Kara's insistence.

“Mrs. Kent,” Lena said, her voice immediately tightening with formality. “This is...unexpected.”

“Call me Martha, dear,” Martha said warmly, her voice rich with Midwestern charm. “I’ve been meaning to call for a while now. Kara’s mentioned how much you’ve got on your plate with that sweet baby of yours, and I just thought...why not reach out?”

“Oh,” Lena said, her brain scrambling for a response. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well, I like to think I know a thing or two about raising extraordinary children,” Martha said with a chuckle. “And when Clark told me about El—”

“Clark also knows about her?” Lena interrupted, her tone sharper than intended.

“Oh, don’t you worry, he supports what you are doing,” Martha said breezily. “Clark and I talk about everything. He’s proud of Kara, you know. And I’m proud of her too. That girl has a heart as big as the Kansas sky.”

Lena glanced over at El, who was happily gnawing on a teething ring. “Yes, well...she’s been...helpful,” she said cautiously, unsure of how much to reveal.

“I’ll bet she has,” Martha said with a knowing lilt. “Kara’s been telling me all about El—how curious she is, how she’s starting to babble more. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“You could say that.”

“Well, if you ever need advice, you just give me a call, I’m no stranger to raising Kryptonian babies, after all.”

Why were the Kents and the Danvers such sickeningly nice, open people? It was exhausting. Martha didn’t know her from a bar of soap, and yet here she was, offering her ear, her support, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just like Kara, who had opened her door to Lena without hesitation, offering her time, her home, her family. Since day one, she’d been there, radiating that unwavering kindness that was as infuriating as it was disarming. Just like Clark Kent, who smiled at her every time their paths crossed, who treated her with warmth despite the fact that her brother had spent years actively trying to destroy everything Clark stood for.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said finally, “Truly.”

And she did. Her own mother wouldn't have offered as much, she was sure. 

“I mean it, Lena,” Martha persisted, “You’re doing a wonderful thing for that little girl. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re exactly what she needs.”

Lena’s throat tightened, and she cleared it quickly, not trusting herself to respond.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Martha said after a beat, probably sensing that Lena was balancing on the edge of an emotional precipice. “I just wanted to say hello. And tell you that you’re not alone.”

“Thank you. It was...nice to hear from you.”

“Take care, dear, and give that baby a big hug for me.”

The call ended, and Lena set the phone down slowly, her mind spinning. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Superman’s mother, but warm, fun-loving sincerity hadn’t been it. The whole thing left her feeling disarmed—and, oddly, a little less alone.

The soft sound of boots landing on the balcony broke Lena’s thoughts, followed by the swish of the glass door sliding open. She turned just as Kara stepped inside, still in her Supergirl suit, her cape slightly ruffled from the wind.

Kara grinned when she spotted El, her face lighting up. “Hey, tiny tornado,” she said, scooping the baby up in one smooth motion. “Have you been good for your mom, little star?”

Lena’s stomach fluttered at the word mom. It always did, no matter how often Kara said it. And she said it a lot these days—so casually, so naturally, as if it had always been Lena's title.

“You’re awfully casual for someone barging in uninvited.”

Kara smirked, bouncing El lightly on her hip. “You haven’t kicked me out in weeks. I’m starting to think you like having me around.”

Lena rolled her eyes. 

She hadn’t expected Kara tonight. The news had been ablaze with reports of a Supergirl emergency—There hadn’t been many details. But here she was. Standing in Lena’s living room, slightly dishevelled - the iconic ‘S’ crest on her chest smudged with dirt. Her hair was a little out of place, a few strands sticking to her forehead. 

 “How was your...mission...or...whatever.” she decided to ask, gesturing vaguely at Kara’s suit.

“Oh!” Kara glanced down at herself, her face flushing slightly. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to show up like this. I’ll go change.”

Before she could move, Lena waved her off. “Don’t. You don't need to. Just tell me how it went.”

Kara hesitated, her mouth halfway open like she wanted to protest, but she stopped. “Uh, it was fine. Just a containment breach at a lab. Nothing too exciting.”

“I trust your boots are covered in mud, and nothing sinister?” Lena asked dryly, gesturing to the faint smudges of dirt on her tiled floor.

Kara laughed, glancing down at her feet. “Sorry! Occupational hazard. Can confirm it is just ...normal mud.”

Lena leaned back in her chair, watching as Kara adjusted El in her arms. The baby reached for Kara’s face, her tiny fingers brushing against Kara’s cheeks. Kara grinned, pretending to nibble on El’s hand, which earned a squeal of delight.

It was getting harder to stay unfriendly with Kara—especially when she looked like that, holding El with such effortless affection.

“What?” Kara asked, catching Lena’s gaze.

“Nothing,” Lena said quickly. 

Kara settled into the armchair with El on her lap, babbling contentedly. 

“Martha Kent called me today,” Lena said finally, breaking the silence.

Kara blinked, her hands pausing mid-bounce with El. “She did?”

“Yes,” Lena said, her tone carefully neutral. “She introduced herself, and...offered her advice.”

Kara winced slightly. “I didn’t tell her to call, I swear. She’s just...Martha. She loves to help.”

“She said you’ve been talking to her a lot about El.”

“Well, yeah, she raised Clark, so I figured she’d know stuff I don’t. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t...you know, steering you wrong or missing anything important.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, though there was a faint twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve been having strategy sessions?”

“Not exactly,” Kara said quickly. “It’s more like...dinner conversations. I go to Smallville once a month to have dinner with Clark, Lois, and the Kents. It’s...kind of a thing.”

“Dinner with Superman and Lois Lane,” Lena said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “That must be...surreal.”

And surprising. Lena didn't realise they were all so close. 

“It’s not as weird as it sounds,” Kara said with a grin. “Clark tries to help with the dishes, Lois spends half the time on her phone chasing a story, and Martha and Jonathan tell embarrassing stories about Clark as a kid.”

"Still sounds surreal.”

“Well, they’re actually coming to National City in a few weeks. There’s an art exhibit at the museum Martha wants to see. She’s really into landscapes and watercolours—she’s actually a pretty good painter.”

“Of course she is,” Lena murmured, a little overwhelmed by the idea of Martha Kent, Kryptonian mother and ...art enthusiast, apparently.

“You could meet them, if you want.”

Lena stiffened slightly, the offer catching her off guard. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s not necessary,” Kara said quickly. “But they’d love to meet you. Martha especially.”

Lena shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll...think about it.”

She had never been a hit with parents. Her friends’ parents had always regarded her with a polite but distant coolness, a young woman with too much ambition and not enough charm to disarm them. Her boyfriends’ parents, when she’d had the patience for such relationships, had been worse—scrutinizing her with an unspoken judgment she could practically taste. And now, no doubt, Superman’s parents would soon join that illustrious list when they finally got to meet her face-to-face.

She wasn’t charming like Kara, who could turn strangers into friends with nothing more than a bright smile and a heartfelt laugh. 

So no, she didn’t have high hopes for the fabled Martha and Jonathan Kent—or their opinions of her. 

El let out a sudden squeal, batting at Kara’s face with her tiny hands. Kara grinned, catching one of her hands. “What are you doing, little star? Trying to beat me up?”

“She’s teething. Again. I’ve gone through so many frozen washcloths this week. But they really have helped.”

“I told you Martha’s a genius - We should see if she has any more tips, when you meet them.” Kara said with a wink. She turned back to El, holding her up playfully. “Where’s Mommy, huh? Where’s Mommy?”

El’s gaze shifted to Lena, her mouth forming an uncertain shape before she finally blurted, “Ma!”

Kara’s grin widened, her eyes lighting up. “She basically said it that time! And she looked at you!”

Lena reached for El, cradling her close as the baby giggled and squirmed in her arms. “It’s just babbling,” Lena said, though her voice trembled slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh-huh,” Kara was clearly unconvinced. “It means she knows who her favourite person is - her mom - AKA: you. Pretty soon, she’s going to be asking for cookies and telling you she doesn’t want to go to bed.”

“God help me,” Lena muttered.

**

As the conversation turned to more mundane things—like how El had started reaching for toys more deliberately or how Lena had managed to introduce her to mashed bananas without complete disaster—Kara remained in her Supergirl suit, clearly forgetting she was still wearing it. 

“So - what does a containment breach entail?" Lena eventually asked, curiosity getting the best of her. 

"There was a breach at a private lab in the industrial district. Some very ambitious scientists thought it’d be a great idea to play with alien tech they didn’t fully understand.”

Lena arched an eyebrow. “Define ‘alien tech.’”

“They had recovered a fragment of a binary fusion core—something I haven’t seen since Krypton. It’s a small but extremely powerful energy source, capable of sustaining entire cities if used properly. But if it’s tampered with or destabilised...”

Lena leaned forward, her brows knitting together. “Let me guess—implosion?”

“Worse,” Kara said grimly. “A quantum feedback loop. It could’ve collapsed the lab and everything within a mile radius into...well, nothing.”

Lena stared at her, her brain already whirring through the implications. “And how, exactly, did these scientists get their hands on this fragment?”

Kara shrugged. “We’re still figuring that out. J’onn thinks it might’ve come from one of the debris fields we’ve been monitoring since that satellite crash last year. But whoever sold it to them clearly didn’t care about the risks.”

“And what did you do?” 

Kara looked guilty. “Oh, you know. The usual. Contain the core, evacuate the lab, neutralise the feedback loop before it could destabilise.”

Lena folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. “You’re leaving out details.”

Kara chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Fine. It got...a little complicated. The containment unit they were using was damaged in the breach, and the feedback loop had already started by the time I got there. I had to stabilise the fragment manually.”

Lena blinked, her mind catching on that last word. “Manually?”

Kara winced. “I might’ve had to hold the fragment for a few minutes while it recalibrated.”

Lena’s stomach twisted at the thought. “That could’ve killed you.”

“Maybe,” Kara admitted, her tone overly light as if that somehow made it better. “But I kept it contained, and the DEO was able to secure it.”

Lena exhaled slowly, her fingers pressing against her temples. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m fine,” Kara said softly, leaning forward. “Really.”

“I still can’t believe this is your life,” Lena said quietly. “You’re...you. And then you’re this.” She gestured vaguely.

Kara smiled gently. “It’s still me, Lena. I’m still Kara.”

Lena shook her head. “That’s what makes it so ...crazy.”

“Crazy in a good way?” 

“Ask me again when I’m not still picturing you holding a potentially universe-destroying energy core with your bare hands.”

Kara grinned. “Fair enough. Anyway, everyone got out okay, though, so...win for Supergirl.”

Lena nodded. “Good.”

**

El was finally asleep, her soft snores barely audible through the baby monitor on the coffee table. The apartment was dimly lit, and the faint hum of the city outside provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet evening. On the couch, Lena poured a second glass of wine, the ritual so familiar it almost felt like muscle memory.

Kara sat beside her, cradling her own glass, as she leaned back. She seemed more relaxed than Lena had seen her in months, though there was still a trace of that ever-present eagerness in her expression. It was a look Lena had come to recognise as Kara wanting to talk—but not knowing how to start.

“It’s been a while since we did this,” Lena said, swirling her wine before taking a sip.

“Yeah. I missed it.”

Lena hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Me too,” she admitted, setting her glass down. She leaned back against the couch, her gaze thoughtful. “You know, I’ve actually met Lois Lane a few times.”

“Really? When?”

“The first time was at a conference in Metropolis. I was speaking on renewable energy tech, and Lois was there to cover the event. She asked me a question during the Q&A session—something about how we planned to address potential conflicts with big oil companies.”

Kara winced. “That sounds like Lois.”

“She was relentless,” Lena said with a wry smile. “She kept pressing, even when I tried to sidestep the question. Most journalists would’ve backed off after one or two vague answers, but not Lois. By the end of it, I felt like I was being cross-examined.”

Kara laughed, her eyes sparkling. “What did you say?”

“I panicked,” Lena admitted, her cheeks warming slightly. “I think I said something like, ‘Well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it,’ which, in hindsight, is the most meaningless answer I’ve ever given.”

Kara burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine. “That’s amazing. I can’t believe Lois let you off the hook with that.”

“Oh, she didn’t,” Lena rolled her eyes. “She cornered me after the session and grilled me for another twenty minutes. By the time she was done, I’d accidentally promised an exclusive interview.”

“Classic Lois,” Kara said, shaking her head fondly. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Lena agreed. “But I respect her for it. She’s one of the few people I’ve met in my career who’s truly fearless. She doesn’t just ask the tough questions—she lives them.”

“She really is incredible. Clark always says she’s the bravest person he’s ever met.”

“She must be, to keep up with...all of ...him.”

“She is,” Kara said simply, her voice full of quiet admiration. But her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the rim of her glass as she turned it slowly in her hands.

Lena tilted her head, noticing the subtle shift in Kara’s demeanour. “What?”

Kara hesitated, her lips pressing into a faint line. “It’s just...not everyone can. Keep up, I mean.”

Lena’s brow furrowed, her curiosity piqued. “You mean with the superhero thing?”

Kara nodded slowly, “It’s...a lot. The constant danger, the unpredictability, the secrecy—it’s not exactly easy to bring someone into that world. Even Lois, as amazing as she is, has told Clark how hard it can be sometimes.”

Lena leaned back slightly, watching Kara carefully. “And you’re worried...what? That you’ll never find someone who can handle it?”

The thought was ridiculous. Who wouldn’t want to ...handle...Kara? Surely, there wasn’t a person in the world with even a shred of sense who wouldn’t be absolutely captivated by her.

Look at her. Kara was beautiful in a way that felt almost unfair, with her golden hair that always seemed to catch the light just right and those blue eyes that could rival the clearest skies. And her smile—God, that smile—it could disarm nations, Lena was sure of it. Kara didn’t just smile with her mouth; it was in her eyes, her whole being radiating warmth that felt like a hug on the coldest day.

And she wasn’t just beautiful. She was funny in a way that made Lena’s stomach hurt from laughing, even when she was trying not to. She had this ridiculous charm, all awkward jokes and dorky enthusiasm for things no one else would even think to care about. 

Kara let out a short, nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing. “Something like that. It’s not just about handling it, though. It’s...how do you ask someone to give up a normal life? To deal with the fact that you might not come home one day because you were too busy saving the world?”

Lena’s chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in Kara’s voice. She’d never heard her like this—so uncertain. “I don’t think it’s about asking, the right person wouldn’t see it as a sacrifice. They’d see it as...an honour. To be a part of it. To be a part of you.”

Kara’s gaze snapped to Lena’s, “Would you see it as an honour?”

The words hit Lena square in the chest, and for a moment, she faltered. She knew the answer—of course she did. But saying it felt like opening a door she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to walk through. Her fingers tightened slightly around her glass as she chose her words carefully.

“I think,” she said, her voice steady, “that if someone truly cared about you—about all of you—it wouldn’t feel like a question. It would just...be.”

“I wish it always felt that simple.”

“What makes you think it would be complicated?” 

Kara laugh was self-deprecating. “Past experience.” She leaned back against the couch, her glass resting on her knee. “The first boy who kissed me—Harvey, middle school science fair partner. I was so nervous, I forgot to hold back. I knocked out his tooth.”

Lena couldn’t help it—a laugh bubbled up, and she quickly covered her mouth. “That’s terrible,” she said, though her amusement was obvious.

“Oh, it gets worse,” Kara said, grinning now despite herself. “Freshman year of high school, I was sitting in the bleachers at a football game. I patted one of the guys on the back so hard he fell off the bleachers.”

Lena was laughing so hard now that she had to set her wine down. “You must have been legendary.”

“More like terrifying,” Kara said with a rueful smile. “After a while, I just...stopped trying. I kept my guard up all the time. It was easier than constantly messing up and hurting people.”

Lena’s laughter softened, her gaze lingering on Kara’s face. “That must have been lonely.”

Kara shrugged, her smile turning wistful. “It was. But I told myself it was worth it. Better lonely than accidentally giving someone a concussion.”

The humour in her tone didn’t quite mask the pain underneath. “You’ve always had to carry so much,” she said quietly. “More than anyone should.”

“It’s not all bad,” she said softly. “I have people who make it all feel worth it.”

Lena’s breath hitched. She looked down at her hands, suddenly unsure of what to say.

Kara’s smile widened just a fraction, and she raised her glass in a small toast. “To not breaking teeth.”

Lena let out a soft laugh, raising her own glass. 

Chapter Text

The television flickered in the dimly lit living room, casting cold, blue light across Lena’s face. She sat stiffly on the couch, El fast asleep in her bassinet nearby. The news anchor’s voice was calm, almost detached, as they described the tragedy that had unfolded downtown—a collapsed building, the result of a freak explosion, dozens dead, even more injured.

The footage on the screen was harrowing: smoke-filled skies, first responders scrambling through rubble, and, in the centre of it all, Supergirl. Kara was a blur of red and blue, pulling survivors from the wreckage, her face tight with barely-contained grief. Lena didn’t need enhanced vision to see it—the pain etched into Kara’s expression was unmistakable.

Lena’s hands gripped the remote until her knuckles whitened. She could imagine the weight Kara was carrying, the guilt she shouldn’t feel but undoubtedly did.

She picked up her phone and dialled Kara’s number. It rang, and rang, and rang, until it went to voicemail. She tried again. Nothing. Her stomach churned, a sickening worry crawling up her spine.

Lena glanced at El, who stirred briefly but settled again. “Stay asleep for me, darling,” she murmured, grabbing the diaper bag. Within minutes, she had El bundled up in her carrier and was strapping her into the car seat.

The streets were quiet as Lena drove to Kara’s apartment. She hadn’t been there in months—her last visit had been filled with laughter, potstickers, and the warmth of a friendship she’d believed unshakable. The memory felt like another lifetime now.

She wasn’t really sure what she was doing. In fact, she felt kind of stupid about it. Kara had probably been through this sort of thing a lot and had never needed Lena in the past. She had the rest of their friends—Alex, J’onn, Brainy, Nia. People who knew her better, understood the whole picture, her secrets, her double life. People who could actually help.

But something inside Lena pulled at her, a quiet but insistent voice telling her that Kara did need her. That tonight wasn’t about Kara being strong or capable; it was about her needing someone to lean on. And Lena couldn’t shake the thought that, maybe, she had always been that someone—she’d just never realized it.

Her mind flickered back to nights when Kara had shown up at her penthouse unannounced, arms laden with takeout and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. They’d watch a movie, and talk about nothing. But now, with hindsight as her cruelly sharp guide, Lena could recall the moments she’d missed: Kara’s quietness when the film ended, the way her gaze lingered on the skyline outside Lena’s window. Those nights when she’d claimed that work was getting her down but hadn’t said much else.

Were those nights like this? Nights where Kara had needed her but hadn’t been able to say it?

When she pulled up, the lights in Kara’s apartment were on. A small relief. She carried El up the stairs, her steps quick but measured, and knocked firmly on the door.

“Kara,” Lena called, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s Lena.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the soft sound of shuffling feet. The door creaked open, and Kara appeared, her frame slumped, her eyes red and swollen. She looked like she’d been holding the weight of the world—and losing.

Lena’s heart twisted painfully. This was Kara—her Kara—but utterly broken.

“Hi,” Kara whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Hi,” Lena said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. It felt strange to be here again after so long, and the apartment felt both familiar and alien. The mismatched furniture, the stacks of books Kara never quite managed to put away, the faint scent of lavender—it was all the same, and yet the warmth was missing, replaced by a heavy stillness.

Kara closed the door behind them, leaning against it like her legs might give out. Lena set the diaper bag down and unbuckled El from her carrier. The baby stirred, but Lena cradled her gently, bouncing her softly until she settled again.

“I saw the news,” Lena said, her voice steady but soft. “Kara, you’re—”

“I’m fine,” Kara interrupted. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the floor. “It’s...just another day, right? Another day where I didn’t do enough.”

“Kara,” Lena said, stepping closer, her voice firmer now. “You saved people.”

“Not enough,” Kara snapped, but her eyes were brimming with tears. “There were so many...I couldn’t—I couldn’t get to all of them. I could hear them, Lena. Screaming. And I...failed them.”

Kara walked over to collapse on the couch, her head in her hands.

Lena hesitated, glancing down at El, making sure she was secure before kneeling in front of Kara. “You’re not okay,” she said gently. “And that’s...okay. Tell me what I can do for you, Kara.”

“You can’t do anything. Nobody can.”

“Kara,” Lena reached out, resting a hand on Kara’s knee. “Talk to me.”

Kara let out a choked sob, her whole body shaking. “They died, Lena,” her words tumbling out in fragments. “So many of them. I heard them, and I—I couldn’t get to them. I tried, but the building collapsed, and...and I couldn’t...”

Her voice broke completely, and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Lena’s heart twisted painfully as she watched her friend shatter before her.

Lena was struggling to keep her own self together....seeing Kara like this hurt in a way she couldn't really understand. 

“You tried, you did everything you could.”

“It wasn’t enough, I’m supposed to save people. That’s what I’m for, isn’t it? To be there when nobody else can. And I failed.”

“Kara, you did not—” Lena started, but Kara cut her off.

“I did fail!” she cried, her voice raw. “They died because I wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, good enough.”

Lena moved to sit beside her, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face. “Stop it. Stop punishing yourself for something you couldn’t control.”

Kara’s tear-filled eyes met Lena’s, wide and desperate. “I could have done more,” she whispered. “If I’d just been —”

“Kara, stop.” Lena’s voice broke through like a whip, startling Kara into silence. Lena’s hands were trembling as she gripped Kara. “You can’t save everyone. Nobody can. You’re not perfect, and you’re not a machine. You’re only hu-.”

Kara let out a broken laugh when Lena stopped mid-sentence. “Human?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll never be human.”

Lena refused to look away, “In your heart. In the way you care. You’re more human than most people I know, Kara.”

Lena pulled her into a tight side-hug, holding her as Kara dissolved into another round of sobs. “I’m here,” Lena murmured, running a hand through Kara’s hair. “I’ve got you. Just let it out.”

Minutes passed like that, with Kara sobbing against Lena’s shoulder, her tears soaking into Lena’s shirt. Lena didn’t care. She held on, whispering quiet reassurances, until Kara’s sobs finally began to subside.

Kara pulled back slightly, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself. 

“I just...I just want my best friend back,” she choked out. “But I don’t even know if we will ever be that again.”

Without thinking, she cupped Kara’s face in her free hand, the other still cradling El. “Kara,” she whispered, “You are my best friend. I’ve forgiven you. I promise I’ve forgiven you.”

Kara shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “But—”

Lena didn’t let her finish. She pressed a kiss to Kara’s cheek, then another, closer to the corner of her mouth. Her movements were instinctive, her need to comfort Kara outweighing the awkwardness of the moment. “I forgive you,” she murmured, her voice breaking. “I forgive you for everything, Kara. We’re okay.”

Kara leant into Lena’s touch like a lifeline.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Lena said fiercely, her own eyes misting. “You have me. You’ll always have me. And El.”

El stirred between them, her tiny hand reaching up to brush Kara’s face. The touch seemed to ground Kara, her breathing evening out slightly as she pulled back, her gaze flickering to the baby.

“Thank you,” Kara said softly.

**

Lena stretched, her body stiff and heavy with sleep, the faint light of dawn filtering through the curtains. She blinked a few times, the unfamiliar surroundings pulling her from the remnants of a surprisingly deep slumber. Kara’s room. The night came rushing back—the crying, the heartbreak, and eventually, the tentative peace that had settled as she’d dragged Kara to bed.

Her lips quirked into a small, tired smile as her eyes landed on the cot by the window. A cot. Of all things.

She’d teased Kara mercilessly about it when she’d spotted it the night before.

“Who keeps a baby cot ‘just in case’?” Lena had asked, incredulous, as she coaxed a barely-conscious Kara out of her living room and toward her bedroom.

Kara, her eyes red and puffy but her lips curved into the faintest smile, had shrugged. “I don’t know,” she’d mumbled. “It seemed...I hoped...I don't know?”

Lena had rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. A part of her—a part she didn’t want to examine too closely—had found it endearing. Because of course Kara would buy a cot “just in case.” Of course she’d prepare for a future that might not even come, because that was who she was. 

Now, from her spot on Kara’s bed, Lena caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head slightly and saw Kara, already up, standing by the window with El in her arms.

The baby’s soft cooing filled the quiet room, and Kara’s voice followed, low and soothing. “Good morning, little star,” she murmured, cradling El close. “Did you sleep okay? You’re up early, huh? If you are quiet, we can give mom some extra rest.”

Lena leaned back against the pillows; her eyes half-closed as she let herself watch. Kara was radiant in the morning light, her hair loose and slightly messy, her expression unguarded as she gazed down at El with a mixture of adoration and wonder. The sight sent a pang through Lena’s chest, bittersweet and achingly familiar.

She could almost picture it—a life where mornings like this were the norm. Kara by the window, El in her arms, Lena tangled in the sheets, content just to watch. The thought startled her, and she pushed it away, heat rising to her cheeks. Get a grip, Luthor.

“Are you going to hog her all day, or do I get a turn?” Lena teased, her voice raspier than she expected.

Kara turned, her face lighting up when she saw Lena awake. “Good morning!” She walked toward the bed, El still nestled against her chest. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked...peaceful.”

“More peaceful than I expected after a night like yesterday.”

“A night of you mocking me and my cot.”

Lena let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “It was a bit ridiculous.”

“It’s practical,” Kara insisted. The baby reached out toward Lena, her tiny fingers opening and closing as if in greeting.

“Well,” Lena said, sitting up and reaching for El, “it worked out, I suppose.”

Kara handed El over carefully, her hands lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. Their fingers brushed, and Lena felt the warmth of Kara’s touch linger even after she pulled away.

El giggled, her bright eyes flicking between the two women. Lena pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, whose tiny hand gripped Lena’s thumb. She glanced up and found Kara watching her, her expression soft.

“Thank you,” Kara said suddenly, “For last night.”

Lena shrugged, trying to play off the emotion rising in her chest. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah,” Kara said softly, her gaze never leaving Lena. “I would.”

***

Steam billowed out of the bathroom as Lena stepped into the hallway, towel drying her damp hair. She’d needed that shower—a few moments of solitude to rinse away the weight of the previous night.

Her borrowed outfit felt strange but comfortable: a Midvale University hoodie that hung a little too long on her frame and a pair of Kara’s boxers, their waistband snug on her hips. It wasn’t exactly Lena Luthor chic, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The faint sound of voices reached her ears—Kara’s, cheerful and bright, and...Alex’s? Lena paused mid-step. Why is Alex here? She tightened her grip on the towel in her hand and moved toward the kitchen, the aroma of pancakes wafting through the apartment.

As she turned the corner, the scene that greeted her was chaotic but in a distinctly Kara way. A tall stack of slightly uneven pancakes sat on the counter, the pan still steaming in the sink. Kara stood by the table, holding El upside down by her ankles, the baby giggling wildly, her chubby cheeks bright with laughter. Alex leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the spectacle with a bemused expression.

“Well, well,” Alex said, her tone full of playful mischief as her eyes landed on Lena. “Look who’s making herself at home.”

Why did she feel like a teenager caught sneaking out of someone’s room? She was nearly thirty. She had a child. This was Alex, for heaven’s sake. But the night and this morning had felt like a world of their own, a bubble of quiet, intimate comfort that Alex seemed all too eager to pop.

Still, never one to back down, she forced herself to move, stepping fully into the room.

“Good morning,” she said, fumbling for an air of nonchalance that seemed just out of reach. Her cheeks betrayed her, flushing a faint pink under Alex’s amused gaze.

“Nice outfit,” Alex remarked, her smirk growing. “I didn’t realise you and Kara were—”

“We aren't. I just didn’t bring a change of clothes.” 

“It’s fine, Lena,” Alex raised a hand in mock surrender, “No judgment here. Just...didn’t expect to see you, that’s all.”

Kara turned from the table, flipping El upright with a practiced ease and settling her on her hip. “Alex, leave her alone.” she said, then she looked down at the baby, pointing at Lena. “There's mommy, looking all cool and casual this morning.”

Lena rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “You're going to make her sick with all that flipping around.” she muttered. 

Kara chuckled. “Nah, she is fine. She loves Kara Roller Coaster time.”

Alex stepped closer and resting a hand lightly on Lena’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks,” Lena managed softly.

Alex gave her a small side hug, brief but comforting. Lena swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to Kara, who was now making airplane noises as she waved a spoon of mashed bananas in front of El. The baby batted at it with glee, her tiny fists smearing the food everywhere except her mouth. Kara didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, laughing as though it was the funniest thing she’d seen all morning.

“Alright, breakfast is served,” Kara announced, pointing to the plate of slightly misshapen pancakes on the table. She glanced at Lena, her smile easy and bright. “Coffee’s brewing.”

She watched as Kara cut a tiny piece of pancake and held it up for the baby, who immediately tried to grab it with both hands. “Okay, okay, one step at a time, little star.”

Lena's heart did a funny little flip. She told herself it was just the coffee she hadn’t had yet. 

Alex pulled up a chair at the table. Kara, ever the doting host, had already piled her sister’s plate high with a generous stack of slightly uneven pancakes. El was gurgling happily, smacking her tiny hands with uncontainable energy.

Alex watched the baby for a moment, a crooked smile forming on her lips. “She’s...uh, very lively.”

Kara turned and grinned. “You should hold her. She’s the best.”

Alex raised a sceptical eyebrow. “She will immediately start crying.”

“No you won't. Right, little star?” The baby squealed and giggled, her legs kicking enthusiastically. Kara turned to Alex, triumph in her eyes. “See? She agrees.”

Lena smirked from her spot across the table, cutting into her pancake. 

“Come on. She loves meeting new people. Just hold her for a second.”

Alex hesitated, her eyes narrowing. “You know I’m terrible with babies.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kara assured her.

She handed the baby over to Alex, who accepted her with the same awkwardness she might display while holding a live grenade. El, however, didn’t seem to mind. She let out a happy coo, her tiny hands grabbing at the collar of Alex’s shirt.

“See?” Kara said, her grin widening. “She likes you.”

“She’s got a strong grip,” Alex muttered, trying not to jostle the baby too much as El squirmed in her arms. Despite her initial stiffness, Alex’s expression softened. She looked down at the baby, who responded with a toothless grin, and something in her demeanour shifted. “Okay, she’s...pretty cute.”

Kara laughed, “Told you.”

It was surreal, seeing Alex—gruff, no-nonsense Alex—cradle El so carefully. The scene was domestic, endearing.

“So,” Alex settled back into her chair and grabbed her fork. “Any...you know, Kryptonian ...symptoms?”

Kara answered before Lena could. “No, nothing yet. She’s hitting all the normal milestones—rolling over, sitting up. No heat vision, no flying. Just regular baby things.”

The way Kara spoke, like a second parent answering on Lena’s behalf, made Lena’s heart skip. 

Lena cleared her throat, placing her mug back on the table. “Martha Kent has been checking in. She said Clark didn’t display any Kryptonian abilities until he was older.”

“Wait,” Alex said, glancing between them. “Martha Kent’s been checking in?”

“Yes,” Lena replied, shrugging as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, even though she herself certainly felt like it wasn't. “She’s called a few times. She’s been...very kind.”

“Don’t forget—they’ll be here in a couple of weeks. Just wanted to remind you.” Kara said.

Lena frowned slightly, focusing on her plate. “Right. The art exhibit.”

“No pressure, but they’d really love to meet you. And El.”

Lena hesitated, her fork hovering over her plate. Kara had been patient—so infuriatingly patient—this entire time. She hadn’t pushed, hadn’t pressed, and yet it was so obvious how much it meant to her.

Kara really wanted this. She wanted Lena and El to meet these people she called family. 

“I’ll come,” Lena said finally, the words feeling both deliberate and impulsive at once. She added, almost too quickly, “It’ll be good for El to meet other people connected to her heritage.”

Kara’s smile lit up the room, and Lena quickly returned her focus to her plate, hiding the faint flush creeping up her neck. This is just for El, she told herself firmly. That’s all.

Alex smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. “Well, this should be interesting.”

**

Lena adjusted El’s carrier as she stood outside Kara’s apartment door, hesitating for what felt like the hundredth time. She’d been bracing herself for this dinner ever since she’d agreed to it, but what she hadn’t expected was Kara’s last-minute text: By the way, everyone’s here. Lois, Clark, Jonathan, and Martha. Can’t wait to see you!

Everyone. As in the entire Kent family. Lena hadn’t known how to respond to that—she hadn’t responded at all, in fact. The possibility of being judged by Kara’s entire extended family felt both ridiculous and uncomfortably real. What if this is an ambush? What if they just want to ‘check me out’ to make sure I’m good enough to be raising this Kryptonian child?

Her phone buzzed. A text from Kara: I see you hovering.

Lena rolled her eyes - can't hide anything from Supergirl. She exhaled sharply and knocked on the door.

It swung open almost immediately, revealing Kara in her civilian clothes—jeans and a soft sweater that hugged her shoulders in a way Lena definitely didn’t notice. Not at all. Kara’s face lit up when she saw her, and Lena felt her nerves ease ever so slightly.

“You made it!” Kara said brightly, stepping aside to let her in. “And you brought my favourite person.” She leaned down to El and wiggled her fingers. “Hi, little star!”

Kara’s enthusiasm was infectious, and El squealed, reaching out with tiny hands toward the blonde. Lena handed El over before she could think twice. “Come on in,” Kara said, “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Lena stepped inside, and her breath caught. The living room was alive with conversation and movement. Martha and Jonathan Kent were on the couch, looking perfectly at home, while Lois Lane leaned against the armrest, talking animatedly to Clark, who stood nearby, holding a tray of drinks like the world’s friendliest butler.

The moment they noticed Lena, all eyes turned to her.

“Lena!” Martha said warmly, standing up and approaching with Jonathan right behind her. “We’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.”

“Yes,” Jonathan added, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. “Kara’s told us so much about you—and this one, of course.” He gestured to El, who was now gripping Kara’s sweater with fierce determination.

Lena smiled tightly, unsure how to respond. “Thank you,” she said, her voice polite but clipped. “It’s...nice to meet you, too.”

Brilliant, Lena. So eloquent. So impressive. Valedictorian of the school, and you can barely string a sentence together.  

Before she could attempt to say anything else, Lois swooped in like a force of nature, her sharp eyes zeroing in on Lena. “Well, if it isn’t Lena Luthor,” 

Lena felt her hackles rise. She adjusted her posture, squaring her shoulders. “Hello, Lois. I see you’re still as... charming as ever.”

“Charming, tenacious, and award-winning,” Lois replied smoothly, “But you already knew that.”

Clark SUPERMAN Kent groaned, stepping in like a seasoned referee. “Lois, maybe ease up a little?”

“What?” Lois said innocently, her gaze never leaving Lena. “We’re old friends. I’m just saying hi.”

God, this was so weird. Lena wasn’t used to this—this... whatever this was. But there Kara was, grinning at her like she’d just placed the star atop the world’s tallest Christmas tree. Like her mere presence, her stumbling, fumbling, utterly awkward presence, was something extraordinary.  

Martha gently touched Lena’s arm, “My daughter-in-law is a force to be reckoned with.”

“She is,” Jonathan added, his tone light but affectionate. “You’ll get used to it.”

Lena wasn’t so sure she wanted to get used to it, but she nodded anyway, her nerves settling slightly under Martha’s calming presence.

Kara, meanwhile, leaned in close, her voice low and reassuring. “You’re doing great,” she whispered. “And I’m right here if you need me.”

The warmth in Kara’s tone sent a flutter through Lena’s chest, and she nodded, drawing a steadying breath.

As the evening progressed, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Martha and Jonathan were as warm and open as Kara had promised, showering El with gentle affection and delighting in every giggle and coo. Kara, of course, was a natural, passing El around carefully while narrating her every move like the world’s most enthusiastic commentator.

“Okay, El,” Kara said as she handed the baby to Jonathan. “This is Jonathan. He’s going to tell you all about the best places to play hide-and-seek on a farm.”

Jonathan chuckled, taking the baby with practiced ease. “And we can teach her how to feed chickens, too.”

From her spot near the kitchen, Lena couldn’t help but smile. 

“Alright, I have to ask,” Lois said, sidling up to Lena with a glass of wine. “How are you handling it? Raising a half-Kryptonian baby, I mean.”

Lena paused, her fingers tightening around her own glass. “It’s...been an adjustment,” she admitted carefully. “But she’s incredible. I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

Lois studied her for a moment, then nodded, her expression softening slightly. “Well, for what it’s worth, you seem like you’ve got it together.”

Lena blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” she said, the words a little stiff but sincere.

“Don’t get used to it,” Lois said with a smirk, draining her glass. "I'm just being nice because Clark told me to be."

Later, as Kara sat with El in her lap narrating a silly story about farm animals, much to the baby’s delight. Lena couldn’t help but watch, her heart squeezing at the sight of Kara’s unselfconscious joy.

“She’s smitten with that baby,” Martha said quietly, “And with you.”

Lena startled. “I...don’t know about that.”

Martha smiled knowingly. “It’s clear as day, dear. But don’t take my word for it. Just...pay attention.”

Lena nodded slowly, her gaze drifting back to Kara. Pay attention. As if she could possibly look anywhere else.

****

The apartment was quiet now, the hum of conversation and laughter left with the Kent family as they headed to their hotel.

The day felt... productive. Strange, surreal, and still tinged with a "what-even-is-my-life" haze, but productive nonetheless. Lena couldn’t quite believe she’d spent the afternoon having lunch with Superman and Supergirl, casually surrounded by their family. It was the kind of scenario she’d never have dreamed up, even in her wildest moments of imagination.

But it had been... nice. She'd even chatted with Clark for a while, standing off to the side as Kara flitted around like the golden retriever in human form she was.

Clark had talked about his university days—specifically, about a time when he’d been friends with Lex. That fact alone was enough to make Lena’s head spin, but he spoke with sincerity, his tone full of genuine warmth as he recounted stories from their past.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed about Lex—about any part of him that wasn’t tied to destruction and manipulation. But Clark’s stories... they were different. They painted a picture of someone Lena hadn’t allowed herself to think about in years. 

“Thank you. For... reminding me. Sometimes it feels like I imagined the brother I grew up with. Like all the good parts of him were just... lies I told myself to make the rest easier.”

Clark’s expression softened, and for a panicked moment, Lena swore he was about to hug her. Her spine straightened, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking in as she braced for the awkwardness of a Superman hug. Thankfully, they were interrupted—a loud burst of laughter from Kara and Eliza drawing both of their attentions toward the rest of the room.

Lena took the opportunity to exhale, letting the emotional tension ebb away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d always worried that Clark harboured mistrust or resentment toward her. But there was a sense of peace between her and Superman now, one she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing. 

It had taken a lot of effort to stay poised all evening. So, it was a relief to sink into the couch now, El nestled against her chest, small breaths were steady and warm.

Kara was tidying up in the kitchen, her movements uncharacteristically quiet. For once, she wasn’t humming or narrating her actions. Every so often, Lena caught her glancing over.

“You should stay,” Kara said eventually, in that sudden way that made it obvious she had been mulling over the idea for a while before getting the courage to voice it. “It’s late, El’s comfortable, and I don’t want you driving home this tired. Just...stay. Please.”

Lena's fingers brushed absently over El’s back. The offer was simple, but the meaning behind it wasn’t.

“I don’t want to impose,” Lena said, though she could barely manage to feign fight in her voice. She wanted to stay. 

“You’re not imposing,” Kara moved closer, her eyes holding Lena’s with a quiet intensity. “Stay. Just for tonight.”

Even as Kara said it, it was so clear to Lena that this wouldn’t be just for tonight. Every step they’d taken so far—Kara dropping by to “help,” Kara holding El like she was already hers—had effortlessly turned into the norm.

So, if she stayed tonight, what was there to stop her from staying tomorrow?

“Alright, just for tonight.”

She would pretend. Because if she didn't, it would mean admitting how deeply this small, chaotic family they were building had already become her entire world. And what if it fell apart? 

The relief on Kara’s face was immediate and unguarded, and Lena looked away quickly, focusing on lifting El carefully as she stood. “Where should I—?”

“My bed,” Kara interrupted. Then her cheeks flushed. “I mean, you take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Kara, no—”

“Non-negotiable,” Kara said quickly, already reaching for El. “You take the bed, I’ll take the couch, and El... She gets the royal treatment, of course.”

Lena rolled her eyes but handed over the baby. “She's talking about your 'just in case' crib, isn't she, baby?”

Kara grinned sheepishly as she cradled El. "For this very circumstance. I like to be prepared.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

**

Lena settled in to Kara’s bed, the blankets soft and warm, and the faint scent of Kara—something clean and uniquely her—lingering in the air. 

She heard Kara moving around the apartment, turning off lights and locking the door. Then there was the sound of her entering the room, her voice, low and soothing: “Alright, little star, time for bed. Let’s get you tucked in.”

Lena turned her head, watching as Kara placed El gently in the cot. She leaned down, brushing a hand over the baby’s forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

The words were quiet, meant only for El, but they reverberated through Lena like a tidal wave. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if she could steady the sudden ache there.

Kara turned off the bedroom lights, leaving only the soft glow of the bedside lamp as she approached. She hesitated at the edge of the bed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable? I can grab you another pillow, or—”

“I’m fine, Kara,” Lena interrupted. “Just...don't sleep on the couch. Come here. Come to bed.”

Kara blinked, then nodded, moving around to the other side, before slipping under the blankets next to Lena. The bed wasn’t big, and their shoulders brushed as they settled in. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet stretching between them in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable, but something else entirely.

“Do you remember the first time we had dinner together?” Kara asked, her voice low and warm.

Lena turned her head slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You mean when you spilled wine all over my blouse?”

“I was mortified. That blouse cost more than my monthly salary. But you didn’t even blink. You just dabbed at it with your napkin, and said, ‘If you wanted me to wear red, dear, you could’ve just asked.'’” Kara grinned. “I think I fell in friend-love with you right then.”

What the hell was friend-love? And why was her heart beating like she’d just run a marathon? God, get it together, Luthor.  

“Friend-love?” She prompted - probably with the dumbest expression on her face.

“Totally a thing, Lena."

She scrambled for something, anything, to say. The problem was that everything in her brain was some variation of I'm in love-love, Kara, with you... my best friend... who’s also Supergirl... nothing friendly about it.

“So... when did you fall in friend-love with me?” Kara asked.

“What makes you think I did?”

She was trying to play it cool. But Kara saw right through her, gasping dramatically, hand flying to her chest like she was playing out the finale of a Shakespearian tragedy. 

“Ouch. Right here, Luthor. You wound me.”

Lena tilted her head, feigning contemplation, though it wasn’t hard to pinpoint the moment... the one that solidified just how much of a lovesick fool she’d been from the start.

The goddamn flowers.

The memory came rushing back. She’d been a bottle of wine deep—a large bottle, to be fair—when she’d decided the only appropriate way to thank Kara for that beautifully written article was to send flowers. Lots of flowers. Thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers. Because that’s what normal people do to express totally platonic gratitude, right?

Jess had been the one to sound the alarm. She’d marched into Lena’s office, invoice in hand, declaring fraud. “Someone’s hacked the corporate card, Miss Luthor. There’s an invoice here for enough flowers to decorate Versailles.”

Lena had flushed so red she could have been mistaken for a stop light. She’d had to awkwardly admit that no, it wasn’t fraud. Yes, she’d purchased that many flowers. And no, it wasn’t for some high-powered corporate client or a PR stunt. It was to thank her new friend. Jess hadn’t said a word after that, but the judgment in her eyes spoke volumes. It was like she’d suddenly seen Lena for what she truly was: a complete dork masquerading as a calm, collected CEO.

When Kara had thanked Lena for the flowers, all sunshine and sincerity, Lena had tried—tried—to play it cool. “Oh, it was nothing,” she’d said, waving her hand like she bought half a rainforest for just anyone. But inside, she’d been screaming. Nothing? It was $7,000 worth of nothing, you idiot.

And now, sitting here, pretending to ponder Kara’s mention of "friend-love," she could still feel that embarrassment bubbling under the surface. How did Kara not see it? How did she not know that Lena was a complete goner for her from the moment they met?

“Well, if I had fallen in friend-love with you, hypothetically speaking, I suppose it might’ve been around the time when I filled your office with flowers.”

Kara actually flushed - like she had a right to be bashful about this topic that she had steered them toward. “You mean that time my desk was so full of bouquets I couldn’t see my computer screen?”

“The very one.” 

Kara shifted onto her back, her head tilted toward Lena, who was propped up on her elbow.

"You called me your hero."

Supergirl may have saved me, but Kara Danvers, you are my hero.

Had she really said that? Out loud? To Kara’s face? The cringe was so potent she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

At the time, she’d thought it was sweet. Maybe even a little flirtatious—in a subtle, sophisticated way, of course. She had no idea she was staring into the eyes of actual Supergirl.

All the questions she’d have asked, had she known then. What was it like to fly? Did she ever get cold? Did she feel lonely, soaring above the world, seeing everything? Did she ever use her super-hearing to eavesdrop on particularly juicy conversations? Lena would have.

There were so many things she wanted to know about Supergirl—things she’d never been quite close enough to the elusive hero to ask. Well, she supposed she was close enough now. Lying in bed with her, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, feeling the warmth of her body just inches away...what could possibly be closer?

Kara's lips curved into a soft, teasing smile. “You’ve got that look—like you’re solving the mysteries of the universe.”  

“I’m actually just...curious.”

“About what?”

“Well,” Lena began, feeling a little silly, but her interest pushing her forward, “How far can you see?”

“How far can I—what?”

“You know,” Lena said, waving a hands in a way that really explained nothing. “Like, if you looked out the window right now, could you see, I don’t know, Paris?”

Kara laughed, her nose scrunching adorably. “No, it doesn’t work like that. I mean, I can see pretty far, but I need something specific to focus on. Plus, the curvature of the Earth sort of makes that impossible.”

Lena arched an eyebrow, smartass. “So, no impromptu Eiffel Tower updates. Disappointing.” She paused, tapping a finger against her chin as if deep in thought. “What about something closer? Like the coffee shop down the street?”

Kara tilted her head, her expression focused, as she stared in the direction of the coffee shop. “I can,” she confirmed, “If I really focus. But it is not super interesting spying on someone’s croissant.”

“Fair,” Lena quipped, “So, how detailed is it?”

 “Very, I can pick up individual details if I want to.”

“Like?” Lena prompted, leaning in slightly.

“Like...” Kara hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “Well, I can see the molecular structure of objects if I concentrate hard enough.”

“Molecular structure,” Lena repeated, her voice tinged with awe. “That’s...incredible. Can you see my bones?”

Kara’s face turned beet red. “I’m not going to x-ray you, Lena!”

Lena smirked. “Shame. I could’ve gotten a free health check.”

“Lena!” Kara groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“What about hearing?” Lena continued, undeterred. “How far can you hear?”

Kara peeked out from behind her hands, her expression half-exasperated, half-amused. “Pretty far. I mean, I can hear heartbeats...the blood rushing through someone’s veins...sometimes even conversations miles away.”

“Really?” Lena asked, “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

Kara hesitated, “Uh...yes?”

“And?”

Kara cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at Lena. “And...it’s...A little fast right now, actually.”

Lena froze for a split second, panicked. Her heart was racing because she was lying next to Kara. But did Kara know that? Did she realize?

Better play dumb.

“Well, I did have two cups of coffee today,” Lena said breezily, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss the comment. 

"So, any other questions?"

Lena's gaze dropped briefly to Kara’s midsection before flicking back up, her smile growing. “Are your ...muscles because of your powers, or is that just...genetics?”

Kara's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, before she stuttered out “W-what?”

“You have, like, abs. I couldn’t help but notice them.”

“Lena, I swear—” Kara started, her voice strangled, and she covered her face with her hands. She was embarrassed.

“What?” Lena asked innocently, “I’m just appreciating the hard work you’ve clearly put in. Unless, of course, it’s a default Kryptonian thing.”

“Oh my Rao.”

“Okay, another question then.”

Kara peeked out from between her fingers, her expression wary. “Do I even want to know?”

“It’s purely academic,” Lena assured her, though the mischievous glint in her eyes said otherwise. She preferred when she was the person who had the one up in the situation, and Kara had so brazenly called her out for having a racing heartbeat, so it was time for payback. “What’s...sex like? With enhanced senses?”

Kara sat up so fast she nearly launched herself off the bed. “Lena!”

“What?” Lena asked, laughing now. “It’s a valid question!”

Kara buried her face in her hands again, muttering something unintelligible into her palms.

“Come on,” Lena teased, nudging her gently with her elbow. “I’m genuinely curious. I mean, can you hear things like—”

“LENA,” Kara interrupted, her voice muffled but clearly mortified.

Lena couldn’t stop laughing now, her shoulders shaking as she collapsed back onto the bed. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”

"Look, I’ve only ever been me, powers and all. So I can’t really compare. I don't know any different.”

Lena smirked, leaning in slightly. “What about-”

“You’re relentless!”

Lena shrugged. Then, as if the thought had just occurred to her, she added, “Do you think kryptonite always has to hurt? I mean, theoretically, couldn’t we develop some kind of controlled environment? Like...a kryptonite-powered...uh...neutraliser?”

“A neutraliser?”

“For your powers,” Lena clarified, “You know, for situations where you’d want to...experience things differently. Like, say, in a power-free sex room.”

Kara blinked, “A...power-free sex room?”

“Hypothetically, of course.”

Of course. Not at all like Lena was planning ahead for the future.

Kara narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You’re just trying to embarrass me again, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Lena admitted, “But come on, you have to admit it’s an interesting idea.”

“It is,” she said slowly. “And, you know, if you’re suggesting this hypothetical room, I’d probably need someone to...hypothetically test it with.”

Lena’s smirk faltered for the briefest second, caught off guard. “Oh?”

“If you’re offering, I wouldn’t say no.”

Did she just…? Kara Danvers, earnest reporter, and caped hero had just casually implied...Actually, no, this was practically a Kryptonian proposition. Much more than an implication.

This... This bold, open suggestion—so matter-of-fact—it left her momentarily speechless.

“Kara Danvers,” she said at last, shaking her head slowly, her voice thick with disbelief and reluctant admiration. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Right back at you, Luthor.”

A small sound from the crib broke the moment, and Kara sat up slightly, peering over at El. “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her voice instantly switching to Dorky Dad Mode. “Our little star is dreaming. Probably about ruling the galaxy. Or snacks.”

“Or flowers,” Lena offered, her lips curving into a soft smile.

Kara chuckled, laying back down and turning her head toward Lena. “You really filled my office with flowers. That’s so extra.”

“And you loved it,” Lena teased.

“I did love it,” Kara admitted, grinning. “I still have a picture of it on my phone, you know. Proof that Lena Luthor once declared friend-love with excessive floral arrangements.”

Lena rolled her eyes but felt warmth spreading through her chest. This was why she’d let herself stay—because moments like this, fleeting and fragile, were worth holding onto.

“Goodnight, Kara,” Lena said softly, her voice carrying an affection she didn’t quite mean to show.

“Goodnight, Lena,” Kara replied, her smile audible.

***

The sharp trill of a phone jolted Lena from sleep. She stirred, blinking into the predawn darkness, her mind foggy with remnants of dreams. Beside her, Kara fumbled for the offending device, her reflexes slower in her groggy state.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Kara murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. She sat up, the blankets slipping off her shoulders, revealing the soft glow of the moonlight against her skin. “I’ll be there soon.”

Lena pushed herself up on one elbow, her brow furrowing. “What’s going on?”

Kara glanced at her, her expression apologetic. “DEO. Some kind of disturbance. Probably nothing big, but I need to check it out.”

Lena nodded, watching as Kara swung her legs out of bed. Kara stood, running a hand through her messy hair, and then leaned down, pressing a quick, warm kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Go back to sleep,” she said softly, the words a gentle command.

Lena barely had time to process the gesture before Kara stepped back, gave a quick spin, and in a blur of light, transformed into Supergirl. The movement was seamless, and Lena’s lips quirked into a faint smile despite the early hour. “Show-off,” she murmured.

Kara grinned. “Always.”

And then, with a rush of air, she was gone, the window swinging gently in her wake.

Lena sank back into the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around her. The faint scent of Kara lingered on the sheets. She let herself drift back into sleep, comforted by the lingering traces of Kara’s presence.

**

When Lena woke again, the room was bathed in soft morning light. She stretched, taking a moment to orient herself before slipping out of bed. The apartment was quiet, save for the faint sounds of El stirring in her crib.

Lena showered quickly and then set about getting El ready for the day. The baby greeted her with a delighted squeal, her tiny hands reaching out as Lena lifted her.

“Good morning, my little star,” Lena said softly, brushing her nose against El’s. The baby giggled, her whole body wriggling with joy. Lena changed her quickly, her movements efficient but gentle, and then carried her into the kitchen.

She opened one of the cupboards and froze. It was packed with baby supplies—formula, diapers, wipes, bottles, everything she could possibly need. She opened another and found neatly stacked jars of baby food, organised by type. Her chest tightened, the weight of Kara’s thoughtfulness hitting her squarely in the heart. She’d planned for everything, apparently.

Lena exhaled shakily, closing the cupboard with care. “You’re too good, Kara Danvers,” she whispered to herself.

El babbled in response, patting Lena’s cheek with a drool-covered hand. Lena chuckled, shaking her head. 

She put El in her highchair, and handed over her new favourite stuffed alien—an admittedly ugly thing Lena had bought on a whim. She whacked it against the highchair tray like a miniature gladiator.

“Okay, El,” Lena began, her voice conspiratorial. “Today’s agenda. Breakfast. While Kara saves the world. Again.”

El smacked the alien down with finality, her big eyes meeting Lena’s like she was ready to take notes.

“Good, glad we’re on the same page,” Lena said with a small laugh, peeling a banana. “Oh, and remind me to tell Kara that this toy”—she gestured to the alien— “has become your weapon of choice. I think she’ll find it hilarious.”

A giddy smile Lena couldn’t quite suppress tugged at her lips. She replayed her and Kara's conversation from the night before for the thousandth time. The way Kara had looked at her—soft, teasing, and so there. It wasn’t one-sided anymore, was it? It couldn’t be, not with how Kara had leaned into the space between them, her voice dipping with something Lena dared to hope was want.  

El babbled something unintelligible, flinging her arms out in a gesture Lena decided to interpret as agreement.

“You’re a tough crowd,” Lena muttered, slicing the banana and placing a piece on the tray. “Here’s something for you to munch on while I do all the heavy lifting.”

El picked up the banana slice and stared at it like it had personally offended her. Then, with a deliberate flick of her tiny wrist, she sent it flying onto the floor.

“Really?” Lena said, narrowing her eyes. “Is this how it’s going to be today?”

El giggled, her chubby fists now reaching for the stuffed alien again.

“Unbelievable,” Lena sighed, crouching to pick up the banana. “Do you know how many meetings I have today? Zero. I cleared my schedule for you. And this is the thanks I get?”

El squealed, her tiny feet kicking against the highchair tray.

“Oh, so now it’s funny,” Lena said, straightening up. “Fine. Laugh it up. Just wait until I tell Kara about your behaviour. She’ll be appalled.”

El’s response was a delighted shriek, as though Kara’s hypothetical disapproval was the funniest thing in the world.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

El gurgled, her bright eyes sparkling as she reached for Lena’s sleeve.

“Alright, fine,” Lena relented, leaning closer to brush a kiss to El’s forehead. “Let’s call it even. But if you throw another piece of banana, you’re on your own.”

She eventually got El fed, then started on her own breakfast, moving easily through Kara’s kitchen.

The sound of the window opening caught Lena’s attention, and she turned just as Kara landed gracefully in the kitchen. Her suit was slightly dusty, but her grin was radiant as she approached.

“Look who’s up and happy,” Kara's voice was soft with affection.

El’s face lit up, and she let out a loud string of babbles, her hands reaching out for Kara. “Ba-ba-ba! Ka-ka-ka!”

Kara scooped up the baby effortlessly, unphased that she was still covered in banana. “You’re getting so good at this talking thing.”

“She’s been working on it all morning,” Lena said, leaning against the counter, her smile soft. 

Kara beamed, pressing a kiss to El’s forehead. “You’re amazing, little star. Keep it up, and you’ll be bossing us around in no time.”

El giggled, grabbing at Kara’s nose with surprising precision. Kara laughed, gently tugging her face away and pretending to nibble on El’s tiny hand. “You’ve got quite the grip there,” she said, glancing at Lena. “I think someone’s going to be walking soon. Last night I swear she almost did.”

“I noticed, and I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.”

Kara chuckled, shifting El so she was perched on her hip. “She’s doing so well, though."

Lena’s heart swelled at the pride in Kara’s voice. She looked away, focusing on the stove as her breakfast sizzled.

Chapter Text

The days bled into weeks, and the once-fragmented pieces of Lena and Kara’s lives slowly wove themselves together into something that felt startlingly normal. Lena wasn’t entirely sure when Kara’s apartment had started to feel like home—or at least, a home—but it had. Most of their time was spent there now, though Lena still occasionally dragged Kara out to the park or into the city for some fresh air.

Kara had found a careful balance—saving the world as Supergirl, showing up for her friends as Kara, and coming home as a version of herself Lena didn’t think anyone else got to see. The kind that stole bites of Lena’s dinner when she thought she wasn’t looking. The kind that tripped over toys scattered across the living room floor and laughed at herself. The kind that occasionally disappeared into the night but almost always returned before dawn, brushing a quiet kiss to Lena’s forehead as she slipped back into bed.

And the baby had thrived in that environment, crawling now with a determined little wiggle and a bright smile that was almost always directed at Kara, and taking confident steps while holding onto furniture or someone's hands. 

“Kaka!” El called, her tiny hands slapping against the floor as she crawled toward Kara with surprising speed.

Kara spun around from where she’d been fixing snacks at the counter, her face lighting up. “Do you need something, little star?” she asked.

“Kaka!” El repeated, her voice high-pitched and triumphant as she pulled herself up using fistfuls of Kara's pant leg for support. She lost balance, and fell backwards, landing softly on her diaper cushioned bottom. 

"Uh-Oh!" Kara said, holding out her hands to help El to her feet again. 

"Uh-Oh!" El mimicked, grunting in focus as she stood again.

Lena watched from the couch. “She's just after your snacks.”

Kara scooped El up, holding her above her head and spinning in a slow circle. “Snack fiend. Those aren't for you - they're for games night!”

El giggled, delighted, her tiny hands patting Kara’s face as if in agreement. Kara nuzzled her, peppering kisses across her chubby cheeks until the baby squealed with laughter.

***

Lena had been uncharacteristically nervous about the first game night back. She’d been so deliberate about detaching herself from this circle during...everything. She had avoided texts, declined invitations, and buried herself in work and motherhood. Starting it all up again felt like trying to re-enter a room she’d stormed out of—awkward, forced, and uncertain.

But, of course, it wasn’t like that at all.

The moment she’d opened the door, Alex had grinned at her in that maddeningly smug, big-sister way. Maggie had winked at her, arms full of wine and snacks. Nia had pulled her into a warm hug, and Brainy had launched into some oddly comforting anecdote about the evolution of board game rules. James had brought dessert from a bakery Lena liked—because, of course, he remembered.

It was seamless, really, as though nothing had changed.

Well, almost nothing.

Lena had caught the knowing smile Alex shot her when she effortlessly moved around the kitchen, setting out drinks and snacks while Kara narrated the rules of the game. Lena had cleared her throat, avoided Alex’s gaze, and focused intently on the chips she was pouring into a bowl.

“Do you two rehearse this?” Alex eventually asked, gesturing to the way Kara handed Lena a drink without looking.

“Years of practice,” Lena said smoothly, taking a sip. “Though I’m still training her.”

“Well, you’ve got the married couple dynamic down,” Nia said with a smirk, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Kara’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t refute it, too busy watching El reach for a piece of popcorn with her tiny hands.

“Not for you, star.” Kara said, plucking the popcorn away. She offered her a slice of cucumber instead, but El pushed it away in a huff. 

“Aw, baby, we don’t need you choking on popcorn tonight.” Lena consoled, brushing El's hair back affectionately. 

“Mama,” El whined, her pout so exaggerated it had everyone chuckling.

“No, sweetie,” Lena said firmly, though she softened the rejection by kissing the baby’s forehead.

Kara leaned over, resting her chin on Lena’s shoulder. “Aw, it's strict mommy time.”

Lena turned her head slightly, meeting Kara’s gaze. “Don't think I don't notice that I always have to be the strict one.”

Kara grinned, her nose brushing against Lena’s cheek in a way that made her heart stutter. “But bad cop really suits you.”

**

As the night wore on, the group fell back into their easy rhythm, passing snacks and sharing quiet smiles between rounds of laughter and light competition. El drifted between players, crawling with single-minded focus and reaching out to whoever caught her interest.

At one point, she grabbed hold of Brainy’s ankle, her tiny fingers tugging insistently. Brainy looked down, clearly perplexed. “She appears to be trying to climb me.”

“She’s persistent,” Kara's voice was tinged with pride.

“Just like Lena,” Alex added, smirking. “That checks out.”

 Lena was curled in her corner of the couch, one leg tucked under her. She watched as Kara pried the baby from Brainy and pointed her in the general direction of her minefield of toys scattered across the floor.  

“Can you hand me her dummy, darling?” Lena asked Kara absently, gesturing toward the dummy she'd noticed laying discarded in amongst the pile of toys.

The room went completely, deafeningly silent.

Lena froze, her hand still mid-gesture, her brain catching up to her own words. Oh no. Her cheeks burned as the room full of eyes turned toward her, every one of them full of unspoken amusement.

“Darling?” Maggie was the first to break the silence, her grin so wide it looked painful. “Really, Luthor?”

“It was a slip...” Lena said quickly, her tone clipped.

“Sure it was, darling,” Alex quipped, tossing down her card with a smirk.

“Your turn, darling,” Brainy added, completely deadpan as he handed a card to Nia.

“Oh, please,” Lena groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I hate all of you.”

“Darling, don’t be like that,” Maggie teased, leaning back in her chair with a faux-serious expression. 

Alex raised a hand, gesturing dramatically at Kara. “Kara, darling, would you please pass me the pretzels?”

“Of course, darling,” Kara replied, handing them over with exaggerated flourish.

Traitor! Lena mouthed dramatically, narrowing her eyes at Kara, who in turn just shrugged her shoulders with an exaggerated innocence.

But Lena didn’t miss it—the faint pink blooming at the tops of Kara’s cheeks, a telltale sign that the pet name had landed with far more weight than it was supposed to.

Oh god. Darling. What had she been thinking?

Sure, she called El Darling all the time—it felt natural, affectionate. And somehow, in the moment, it had felt just as natural to extend it to Kara.

Was this...a thing now? Did Kara think it was a thing? Did their friends think it was a thing? God help her, Alex was probably mentally cataloguing the moment to torment her with later.

**

As the game wrapped up and the group began to disperse, the teasing finally started to wane. Alex and Maggie were the last to leave, sharing a lingering glance before Alex pulled Lena into a quick hug.

“Good to have you back at games night,” Alex said softly, her tone surprisingly earnest. “You seem...settled. Happy.”

Lena didn’t respond right away, her eyes drifting toward Kara, who was gently rocking El in her arms while cleaning up the scattered toys. “Thanks, Alex.”

Alex nodded, her smirk returning as she stepped back. “Goodnight, darling.”

“Out!” Lena called, her cheeks burning once again.

Alex laughed as she walked out, pulling the door shut behind her. Lena exhaled deeply, sinking back into the couch as Kara carried El over, the baby already half-asleep.

“Think she’s ready for bed,” Kara said softly, her voice warm. “You want me to do the honours?”

Lena nodded her head. “Goodnight, baby.” She whispered to El. 

Kara grinned, leaning down to kiss Lena’s temple before disappearing down the hall. 

**

Lena was sprawled on the living room floor, laptop balanced precariously on her knees, wearing her softest pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt that may or may not have belonged to Kara. El was nearby on her play mat, babbling happily at a plush octopus...another unnecessary gift from Kara. The scene was peaceful, domestic even, and though Lena would never admit it aloud, the coziness of it all had started to grow on her.

She’d been answering emails for hours, switching between half a dozen projects for L-Corp, when the soft sound of the front door unlocking startled her. Lena stiffened, her hands pausing over the keyboard. She frowned, glancing toward the door. Kara wouldn’t use the front door—she always flew in. And Alex would have knocked.

Lena’s stomach twisted uneasily as the door creaked open.

“Eliza?” she blurted, her surprise spilling out before she could think better of it.

Eliza Danvers stood in the doorway, a tote bag slung over her shoulder and a warm, slightly flustered smile on her face. “Oh! Lena,” she said, blinking in surprise. “I didn’t realize... I didn’t expect anyone to be... home.”

Lena scrambled to her feet, closing the laptop and trying to smooth her shirt in one awkward motion. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Kara is at work,” she said quickly, then winced at how defensive she sounded.

This wasn’t Eliza’s fault. Eliza had just stopped by her own daughter’s house—how was she to know Lena would be here? How was she to know Lena practically lived here?

That every Wednesday, Lena went to the grocery store to stock Kara’s fridge with fresh produce and obscure snacks she claimed were for El but Kara seemed to devour.

That El had more clothes neatly folded in drawers here than she did at Lena’s penthouse, complete with an arsenal of baby toys stacked in the corner.

That Lena had learned the quirks of Kara’s kitchen by heart—the burner that needed an extra jiggle to ignite, the way the fridge hummed slightly louder at night.

That she folded Kara’s laundry—her laundry, for God’s sake.

Eliza stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “This was a last-minute trip—a work thing,” she explained, holding up the tote bag like it might somehow clarify everything. “I thought I’d surprise her. I didn’t mean to...interrupt.”

Lena glanced down at her sweats and bare feet, feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t in years. Lena Luthor, CEO of L-Corp, caught working from home in sweatpants. Kara’s sweatpants. She fought the urge to laugh, though it came out as a small, awkward cough instead.

“You’re not interrupting,” Lena managed, though her tone betrayed her uncertainty. “I was just...working.”

El chose that moment to let out a delighted shriek, her chubby hands reaching for the octopus as if it were the greatest treasure in the world. Eliza’s gaze snapped to the baby, her expression softening instantly.

“Oh, my,” she said, stepping closer. “I finally get the meet the little princess!” Her tone was warm, full of unabashed affection.

It was endearing, really—how Eliza seemed invested in El.

El was technically her daughter’s…friend’s…niece? The connection was ...tenuous at best, a tangle of lines drawn by circumstance rather than blood. Yet Eliza looked every bit the picture of an excited grandmother, 

Lena bent to pick up El, balancing the baby on her hip as she turned back to Eliza. 

Eliza smiled, setting her bag down on the floor and taking a step closer. “May I?”

Lena hesitated for half a second before nodding and gently passing El into Eliza’s outstretched arms. The baby squirmed slightly but settled quickly, her bright eyes locking onto Eliza’s with interest.

“Well, aren’t you just the most precious thing?” Eliza cooed, “Kara’s always said you were, but I think she undersold it.”

Lena folded her arms, unsure of what to do with herself. “I guess Kara talks about her a lot?” 

“Oh, constantly,” Eliza said with a laugh, not looking up. “And about you.”

Lena froze. “Me?”

Eliza finally met Lena’s gaze, her smile faintly amused. “Of course. I think she can’t help herself. She’s very...enthusiastic about the people she loves.”

Loves. It was an innocent comment, surely. A mother being proud of her daughter’s relationships, familial or otherwise. But still, it lingered in Lena’s chest.

“I hear a lot about you, too.”

Eliza chuckled softly, rocking El gently in her arms. “Well, it’s nice to have the chance to actually talk to you.”

As the initial awkwardness faded, Lena returned to the couch, her laptop open again. She was acutely aware of Eliza moving about the apartment, settling El onto her play mat and expertly engaging the baby with soft toys and gentle words. 

“What are you working on?” Eliza asked after a while.

Lena hesitated. “Just some equations for an energy recalibration project at L-Corp. It’s...probably not very interesting.”

“Try me,” Eliza said with a wry smile. “I’ve spent the last week reviewing proposals for quantum fusion models. I think I can keep up.”

Lena blinked, surprised, before turning her laptop slightly toward Eliza. “It’s a recalibration for L-Corp’s new clean energy grids. The goal is to increase output efficiency without overheating the stabilisation matrix.”

Eliza’s eyes lit up, and she moved closer, peering at the screen. “You’re using a binary convergence algorithm for this?”

“Yes,” Lena said, her surprise deepening. “But it’s been tricky to balance the energy distribution across multiple nodes. Every time I think I’ve got it, the peripheral systems start overcompensating.”

Eliza’s brow furrowed as she studied the data. “What if you adjusted the convergence ratio? Drop it by 0.03 and see how it impacts the stabilizer.”

Lena frowned thoughtfully. “That might work...”

They dove in, trading jargon and ideas as the minutes stretched into hours. Lena forgot her awkwardness entirely, swept up in the rare delight of working alongside someone who genuinely understood the complexities of her field. Eliza’s insights were sharp, her suggestions practical yet innovative, and Lena found herself marvelling at how easily the woman kept up.

By the time they finally pulled back from the screen, El was asleep on the play mat, her little hands curled around her octopus. Lena glanced at the clock, startled to see how much time had passed.

“I didn’t mean to monopolise your evening,” Eliza said, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied smile.

“Are you kidding?” This was...refreshing. I don’t usually get to talk about this kind of work with someone who actually understands it.”

Eliza chuckled. “Kara was right about you,” she said, her tone teasing. “You’re a marvel.”

Lena froze for half a second before ducking her head, suddenly very interested in closing her laptop. “She exaggerates,” she murmured.

“She doesn’t,” Eliza said firmly. “But I think you already know that.”

Lena didn’t respond.

**

Lena stirred the sauce on the stove, her focus half on the meal and half on the soft sound of laughter coming from the living room. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Eliza sat cross-legged on the floor, stacking colourful blocks with El. The baby, who had been cautiously curious of Eliza just hours ago, was now giggling and babbling as if they were old friends.

Cooking had become second nature to Lena over the past few months, a skill born of necessity and... unexpected enjoyment. She hadn’t burned anything in weeks, which was, frankly, miraculous. But tonight, her mind was too preoccupied to savour the progress.

The soft thud of boots landing on the balcony pulled her from her thoughts. A smile tugged at her lips despite herself. Kara.

Lena turned from the stove as the sliding door opened and Kara stepped inside, her presence filling the space effortlessly. She froze for a moment, taking in the scene—her mother on the floor with El, the baby squealing as she knocked over the carefully stacked tower of blocks.

“Eliza?” Kara’s voice was bright with surprise, her hands going to her hips. “What are you doing here?”

Eliza looked up, “Last-minute trip for work,” she said. “Thought I’d surprise you. And I’ve had the most wonderful day with El and Lena.”

Kara grinned and strode over to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said warmly, before turning her attention to the baby. “And you, troublemaker.” She knelt down, brushing a soft kiss against El’s hair, earning a delighted "Ka-ka" in return.

As Kara stood, she caught Lena’s eye. “Be right back,” she said to her mother before slipping away.

In the kitchen, Kara leaned against the counter, her eyes darting to Lena’s face. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quiet.

Lena nodded, stirring the sauce one last time before lowering the heat. “Yeah, fine. Your mom’s lovely. I enjoyed her company.”

Kara narrowed her eyes slightly, catching the edge of hesitation in Lena’s tone. “You sure? I didn’t know she was coming. I would’ve told you.”

Lena knew Kara would have told her. That was just who Kara was—thoughtful, open, considerate to a fault. Lena didn’t doubt that for a moment.  

“It’s fine,” she said again, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Really. We actually had fun. She’s...brilliant.”

Kara smiled, relief softening her features. “I bet she thinks you're brilliant too.”

Lena turned her attention back to the stove, unable to look Kara in the eyes as she said what she needed to say next.

“I was thinking maybe I should go back to my apartment tonight. Give you and Eliza some space.”

“What? No! Why?”

Lena hated the desperation in Kara's tone. Her grip tightened on the edge of the counter. “Because this...situation,” she said, gesturing vaguely around the room, “isn’t normal, Kara.”

Kara frowned, leaning in. “What do you mean? This is your home.”

Lena turned to face her fully, her voice wavering slightly. “But it isn't, Kara. Two platonic friends don’t just... share an apartment. And a bed. And... a child.”

The words hung between them, heavy and raw. Kara’s lips parted, but no sound came out at first. When she finally spoke, her voice was pleading. “Lena, I—”

“Lena?” Eliza’s interrupted them, “I think we have a...situation. A very fragrant situation.”

Kara and Lena turned to see Eliza standing in the doorway, holding a squirming El at arm’s length.

Lena pressed a hand to her forehead, exhaling sharply. “I’ll take care of it,” she said, stepping forward.

But Kara stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “No, I’ve got it. You’ve been on baby duty all day.” She took El from her mother, wrinkling her nose dramatically. “Whoa. Yep. That’s...impressive.”

Eliza chuckled and disappeared back into the living room, leaving Kara and Lena alone again. As Kara adjusted El on her hip, she turned back to Lena, her gaze steady. “You’re not going back to your apartment.”

“Kara—”

“If you do,” Kara interrupted, her voice firm but her eyes soft, “then I’m going with you.”

Lena’s throat tightened, but she nodded faintly, her heart twisting at the sincerity in Kara’s voice.

From anyone else, it would have sounded like a threat, the kind of ultimatum that would have sent Lena running in the opposite direction without a second thought. But coming from Kara, she knew it wasn’t that.

No, from Kara, it was something entirely different. It was a fight to protect what they had built together. A fight to protect their... family?

Kara leaned in slightly. “We’ll figure this out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a diaper to conquer.”

Lena watched Kara go, her chest aching in ways she couldn’t quite put into words. The sound of Kara’s soft voice talking to El in the other room brought a smile to her lips despite herself. This was her home, wasn’t it? As surreal and messy and complicated as it was, it was hers... Theirs.

***

The following morning, Lena stepped out into the hallway, still shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. Her focus was on the bathroom ahead, and she didn’t notice the figure coming from the other direction until they nearly collided.

“Oh!” Lena exclaimed, taking a quick step back.

Eliza Danvers stood there, looking as perfectly composed as ever, a neatly folded towel in one hand and an apologetic smile on her face. “Good morning, Lena. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No,” Lena said quickly, a touch flustered. “That was Kara and her snooze-button warfare. I think I heard her alarm go off at least forty-seven times.”

Eliza chuckled, her warm laughter echoing softly in the quiet hallway. “That sounds like Kara.”

Lena hesitated for a moment, then more words tumbled out before she could stop them. “She also gets really hot at night.”

She froze, realizing how what she’d just said sounded. Her eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush crept up her neck. “Not that—it’s not—it’s just that she runs hot, temperature wise... and the apartment is small, and—”

Eliza’s smile shifted to something more knowing, but she mercifully didn’t comment on Lena’s flustered backtracking. “She does tend to overheat. Must be the Kryptonian metabolism.”

Lena nodded quickly, eager to move on. “Right. Metabolism.”

Eliza’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, before she stepped aside. “The bathroom’s all yours. 

“Thank you,” Lena managed, practically darting into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the counter, groaning softly. Get it together, Luthor.

Thankfully, there had been no questions when Lena and Kara had excused themselves to bed the previous night. Lena hadn’t been privy to the brief conversation Kara had with Eliza while delivering a blanket and pillow for the couch the older woman would be sleeping on. When Kara returned to the bedroom moments later, she reassured Lena with a playful grin, “We’re not twelve, Lena. I’m allowed to have a girl in my room.”

Still, Lena couldn’t shake the awkwardness of it all, even as Kara climbed into bed beside her. Gosh, it all felt so...teenager.

**

By the time Lena made it to the kitchen, she felt a little more composed. Eliza had already started the coffee, moving around with an ease that Lena envied. For a moment, Lena hesitated near the counter, unsure if she should take over or stay out of the way. Instead, she opened the fridge and started pulling out containers out.

She didn’t have to think about it—assembling Kara’s lunch had become second nature. Bread, fillings, neatly sliced apple, and a protein bar she’d noticed Kara liked. Everything went into its designated compartments in the lunchbox with practiced efficiency, her movements precise and thoughtless, like a well-rehearsed dance.

The sound of Kara’s voice broke her concentration. “Good morning!” came the cheerful chirp, followed by the soft giggles of El, clearly delighted to be in Kara’s arms.

Lena glanced up to see Kara standing in the doorway, the baby perched on her hip. 

Without waiting for a response, Kara strode into the kitchen and set El gently into the highchair. “There we go, little star. Breakfast is on the way!” she said, grabbing a small spoon and giving it an exaggerated twirl that made El laugh.

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips before she turned her attention back on the lunchbox she was packing. As she sealed the lid and slid it onto the counter, something caught her attention—a quiet, knowing chuckle.

Lena turned her head sharply to see Eliza, taking in the scene like she was watching a particularly fascinating documentary.

“What?” Lena asked, a bit more defensive than she intended.

“Oh, nothing,” Eliza said, her smile widening. “I was just...admiring the routine you two have.”

Lena glanced down at the lunchbox she’d just packed, then at Kara, who was now dramatically pretending to eat El’s fingers to make her laugh.

The shared bed. The shared meals. The shared child. Short of actually kissing Kara on the lips and having sex, they were basically married. The thought made her stomach flip.

“We’re just...efficient,” Lena said quickly, avoiding Eliza’s gaze. “Someone has to keep Kara in line.”

“Well,” Eliza said, glancing between them, “however you describe it, it works.”

Lena set the oatmeal down in front of El, and Kara immediately proceeded to 'help' her eat by making exaggerated airplane motions with the spoon. 

“This is a good breakfast. Isn’t that right, El?” Kara cooed, wiping a bit of oatmeal off the baby’s cheek. “Mommy’s oatmeal is the best, huh?”.

“Kara always described you as a work-a-holic, so this life must have been an adjustment?” Eliza asked – and if it had been anyone else asking, she would have felt immediately defensive. But with Eliza, the question seemed to come from a place of genuine curiosity.

“It has been, but not in a bad way. I never thought I’d enjoy it so much, but I still get to work from home, and have time to focus on El. Best of both worlds, I guess?”

“And L-Corp? How’s it managing without you there?”

“I’ve been lucky to have a great team running the day-to-day operations,” Lena admitted. “But I’ve started thinking about showing my face around more, or maybe going back part-time. There’s a gala coming up—a big fundraiser for the company. It’s the kind of event I can’t really avoid. But I am not really looking forward to it.”

“You’ll learn to balance and enjoy it all, I am sure.”

Kara suddenly looked up from the high chair, oatmeal smeared on her cheek and an unapologetic grin on her face.

“Lena, we need to remember to buy more juice! We’re out again,”

Lena rolled her eyes. Married, she thought again, the word both terrifying and intoxicating. We’re basically married.  

**

Eliza had headed home after her conference, with a promise to make more of an effort to get into National City more frequently - particularly because she did not want to miss all El's growing years. Lena didn’t voice her thoughts about how strange of a promise it was - to make more of an effort to come and see the niece of your daughter's ...friend. 

Lena and Kara sat at the dinner table. El was in her highchair, gnawing on a piece of soft carrot Lena had prepared. The atmosphere was quiet and comfortable, the kind of peace that came after a whirlwind morning. 

Lena poked at her plate, absently pushing her food around as her thoughts swirled with the night before's conversations. Kara’s voice, low and unwavering, as she’d all but demanded Lena stay.

It had been startling, hearing Kara like that. Not the awkward, blushing Kara who tripped over her words, but someone firm, resolute, and... commanding.

And, god help her, it was hot.

Lena bit her lip, staring at her fork like it held the secrets to unravelling her ridiculously tangled feelings. Since when was she the type to be charmed by stubbornness? 

She barely noticed Kara watching her until the blonde cleared her throat dramatically.

“What?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kara leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin on her hands. “You haven’t mentioned the gala that much. But I heard you talking about it with Eliza this morning.” she said, her tone casual but her eyes full of curiosity.

Lena shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “And? What about it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just curious. I mean, it’s a big L-Corp event, right? Fancy, high-profile, lots of people in suits… You’re usually so on top of these things.”

“What are you trying to say, Kara?”

Kara sat up straighter, “Well, it’s not like you to not have a plan. No meticulously crafted itinerary? No endless to-do lists? No...date?”

Lena set down her fork carefully, trying to keep her composure as she turned to face Kara fully. “Are you fishing for an invitation, Danvers?”

Please be fishing for an invitation.

Kara leaned back in her chair, pretending to mull it over. “I don’t know... Should I be? I mean, CatCo will probably want someone there to cover it.” She smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. “But if you wanted me to be your...plus one, I could make that work too.”

Lena bit her lip, fighting the smile threatening to break free. “Is that so?”

“Purely for journalistic purpose, of course,” Kara said quickly, though her ears were turning pink. “And, you know, moral support. Galas are stressful.”

Lena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and mirroring Kara’s earlier pose. “Oh, stressful, are they? And what, exactly, do you think you’d bring to the table as my plus one?”

“Well, let’s see… I’m charming, I’m good at making awkward small talk, and I clean up pretty well.”

“And you’re so modest.”

“It’s one of my many attributes,” Kara shot back, her eyes sparkling. “So...am I invited?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally, her voice soft but teasing.

“You wound me, Luthor.”

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Finish your dinner, Danvers.”

As if on cue, El babbled from her high chair, her little fists waving in the air. Both women turned to look at her, and Kara reached out to gently ruffle the baby’s hair.

“See, El?” Kara said, her tone mock conspiratorial. “Your mom doesn’t even want to take me to a fancy party. Can you believe that?”

El gurgled in response, slamming her hands on the tray with enthusiasm. Lena shook her head, but her chest felt warm.

“She’s not agreeing with you, you know,” Lena said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“Oh, she totally is,” Kara said, leaning in closer to El. “Right, El? You’d want me there, wouldn’t you?”

El made a noise that could have been interpreted as agreement, and Kara grinned triumphantly. Lena groaned, standing to start clearing the dishes.

“Fine,” she said over her shoulder. “If you want to be my date, Danvers, you’ll have to earn it.”

Kara’s eyebrows shot up. “Earn it? How?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Lena replied, glancing at her with a sly smile. “For now, you can start by helping me clean up.”

Kara saluted playfully. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

El had settled for the night easily, leaving the apartment in rare silence. Lena was flipping through a long-winded document on her laptop, but she wasn’t reading the words on the screen. Her mind was elsewhere—on Kara, who was lying beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. 

Lena could feel the tension rolling off her. She looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. Lena couldn’t really pinpoint what was wrong. Their night had gone about as normal as it could in a household with a Kryptonian superhero and a precocious toddler.

Kara had cleared the plates while Lena wrangled El into her nighttime bath. Baths were a messy but beloved affair, with El enthusiastically splashing water all over Lena’s carefully rolled-up sleeves. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Lena had said, only to earn a giggle from the tiny dictator.

By the time El was dry, pajama-clad, and curled up in Kara’s arms for her bedtime story, Lena had finished tidying up the living room, gathering stray toys. 

After El finally drifted off, the two of them had settled into their usual spots in bed. Lena with her laptop, catching up on emails and reviewing documents, and Kara stretched out next to her, flipping through something on her tablet.

“What is it, Kara?” Lena eventually asked, setting her laptop aside.

Kara hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the case of her tablet. “I was just thinking...about the gala.”

The gala? Of all things? 

“What about it?”

“I mean...” Kara trailed off, her eyes darting away briefly before coming back to Lena. “If you wanted to take someone else, I’d understand.”

For a moment, Lena’s brain refused to compute the words. She blinked, certain she must have misheard. “What? Why on earth would I want to take anyone else?”

Kara gave a small, nervous shrug, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I don’t know,” she murmured, discarding of her tablet on the bedside table, “Maybe you’d want to take someone you’re...interested in.”

Interested in? Lena’s mind raced, her thoughts spiralling as she stared at Kara, whose expression was so uncertain it almost hurt to look at.

How could Kara not see it? How could she not know? Lena’s hands itched to reach out and grab her, to shake her by the shoulders and shout, I’m interested in you, you oblivious, beautiful idiot. But instead, she forced herself to sit up.

“Kara,” she said firmly, “That's... ridiculous. You’re the only one I’d want to take. How can you not know that?”

Kara blinked, her cheeks flushing pink. “I just...” She looked down, “I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to assume. I feel like I pressured you into agreeing to take me.”

God, she’s so painfully earnest, Lena thought, how can someone who can hear a heartbeat from miles away be this clueless?

“Well, you didn’t pressure me,” Lena reached out, her fingers brushing against Kara’s arm in a quiet gesture of reassurance. “You’re the only person I’d want there.”

Kara’s lips parted slightly, her expression unreadable. “So... would it be, like, a real date?” she asked hesitantly.

The question caught her by surprise. Kara seeking clarity on the nature of this outing felt... uncharacteristic. Typically, they just existed in this seamless, unspoken rhythm of domesticity—doing married-couple things without ever acknowledging the obvious undertones.

Why did Kara need this clarification now? What had changed since last night, when they'd brushed their teeth side by side, discussing the importance of alien history being included in school curriculum through toothpaste foam, and this moment? 

But the gala wasn’t really a date, not in her mind. Not the way she had envisioned her first date with Kara would be. It wasn’t private or personal; it was a spectacle, a stage where appearances mattered more than anything genuine. A first date with Kara deserved more than that. It deserved to be something special. Intimate. Something that felt like them.

The urge to deflect was strong. But this was Kara. She couldn’t lie to her, not about this.

“No,” she said finally.

Kara’s face fell, her disappointment palpable. “Oh,” she said softly, her shoulders sagging.

“Wait, no,” Lena said quickly, “I didn't mean...Not like that. I meant that I wouldn’t want my first date with you to be at a business event. In front of every prying eye in National City? That’s not exactly my idea of romantic.”

Kara’s lips parted in a soft “oh,” her wide eyes blinking in surprise. “So, you’d want something...more romantic, with me?”

“Yes! Of course!” Lena blurted, then immediately winced at her own enthusiasm. 

Kara had that trademark glimmer of hope and determination sparking in her eyes. “I can do romantic,” she said with quiet resolve, like she was preparing for the most important mission of her life.

How had they even gotten here? How had this woman, this ridiculous, brilliant, impossible woman, burrowed her way so completely into her life, her heart, her everything?

Though Kara wasn’t speaking, Lena could almost feel the energy radiating off her, could practically see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of hers. Ideas were undoubtedly ricocheting around at superhuman speed, each one likely more absurdly grandiose than the last.

“Kara,” Lena interrupted, “I won't be able to sleep with you thinking so loudly.”

"Thinking? Loudly?”

“Yes, you might as well be pacing the room. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Lena asked, trying to sound exasperated but unable to hide the fondness in her voice.

Kara gave her a sheepish smile, the kind that made her look like she was caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “Just...ideas.”

Ideas about their date? Lena’s heart fluttered, and before she could stop herself, a grin spread across her face, threatening to split it in two. She felt ridiculous—like a silly schoolgirl navigating her first crush. But Kara had that effect on her, making her feel things she hadn’t thought she’d feel again.

“Maybe I can distract you,” Lena said, clearing her throat, her voice betraying more nerves than she intended.

Kara’s eyebrows shot up, and a smirk played at her lips. “Oh, hello,” she said, her tone teasing, dripping with playful implication.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lena shot back, her cheeks flushing as she laughed despite herself. She reached out to swat Kara’s arm lightly. “I was talking about something innocent, Danvers.”

Kara chuckled, “Right, of course. Innocent. How boring.”

I'll show you boring, her mouth opened for a retort, but the words never came. Instead, she leaned forward—almost on instinct—and pressed her lips to Kara’s in a quick, fleeting kiss. It was soft, almost chaste, but the moment their lips touched, Lena felt a surge of panic crash through her.

Oh God. Oh my God. What did I just do?

She pulled back abruptly, her cheeks burning. Before Kara could say or do anything, Lena rolled over, facing the opposite direction as she fumbled to switch off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness, and Lena squeezed her eyes shut, willing her heart to stop hammering against her ribs.

Why did I do that? Why, why, why? She pressed her face into her pillow, her mortification threatening to swallow her whole. She was not this person—impulsive, reckless, kissing her best friend like it was nothing. Except it wasn’t nothing. It was everything. And now, Kara was—

“You know,” Kara’s voice broke the silence, soft and a little amused, “your heart’s beating really fast.”

Lena groaned, “Kara.”

“I’m just saying,” Kara continued, her tone dripping with faux innocence, “it’s practically thundering.”

“Kara,” Lena's voice was muffled by the pillow. “Go to sleep.”

Kara chuckled softly, the sound warm and low. “Goodnight, Lena.”

Lena didn’t answer, her face still buried in the pillow as her mind replayed the kiss over and over again. What have I done? she thought, with a mix of embarrassment, longing, and something dangerously close to hope.

**

Lena stood in front of the mirror, her hands smoothing over the sleek lines of her dress. It was black—classic, elegant, with a plunging neckline and a slit that hinted at more than it revealed. The fabric clung to her in all the right places. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose updo, leaving a few strands to frame her face, and her makeup was flawless, just the right balance of sultry and sophisticated.

But she wasn’t dressing for the gala. Not really.

She’ll notice, Lena thought, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly at the thought of Kara’s wide blue eyes taking her in. She always notices.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of tension—both sexual and otherwise. Lena had noticed Kara sneaking glances more than once, the tips of her ears turning pink whenever Lena turned to catch her. The 'accidental kiss', as Lena had come to refer to it in her mind, had hung between them like a charged wire, and neither of them seemed willing—or ready—to address it.

Instead, they danced around it. The usual ease between them had been replaced by a kind of magnetic awkwardness, a constant pull and push that made Lena feel electrified and utterly frustrated.

She was starting to regret telling Kara that the gala tonight was not a date. If it was, it could have been the night she got...clarity. Or, at the very least, was able to test the waters. Still, date or not, she wanted to see Kara look at her the way she hoped Kara would.

Lena adjusted one of her earrings, her pulse fluttering in anticipation as she heard footsteps approaching. When she turned, Kara was standing in the doorway, and Lena’s breath caught.

Kara wasn’t in her usual office attire, nor was she in the superhero suit that Lena had come to ...appreciate, on the quiet. She was wearing a fitted navy dress with a high neckline and a cinched waist, her blonde hair styled in soft waves. The outfit was simple but stunning, highlighting Kara’s natural beauty without overdoing it.

“You look…” Kara’s eyes roamed over Lena, her lips parting as if she was searching for the right word. “…wow.”

Lena grinned, bingo. “Thank you,” she said, her voice smooth despite the way she felt like she was about to burst. “You look beautiful. I love navy on you.”

Kara ran a hand through her hair nervously. “This old thing?” she joked, gesturing to her dress. “Just something I threw on.”

Lena raised an eyebrow,“Funny, I never noticed it in our cupboard before?”

Our cupboard, oops - She rolled her eyes at how married that sounded. 

Kara shrugged, “Yeah, well...I wanted to look nice.”

“For me?” Lena teased.

For a moment, the air between them seemed to hum with unspoken words, the tension from the past few days bubbling to the surface.

“Yes, for you, Lena, always.”

“Well,” Lena breathed, after a beat. “Mission accomplished.”

Kara’s smile widened, “You ready to go?”

Lena nodded, grabbing her clutch from the vanity. This is going to be a very interesting night.

**

The city lights blurred past the windows of the sleek black limo. Lena sat back against the leather seat, her legs crossed elegantly. Next to her, Kara was fidgeting, her phone lighting up every few seconds as she exchanged rapid texts with Alex.

“You know, Alex and Maggie have taken care of El before. They’re perfectly capable.”

Kara barely looked up, her fingers flying across the screen. “I know,” she said quickly, “But I just... What if she doesn’t settle? Or—”

“Kara.” Lena reached over, her hand resting lightly on Kara’s thigh. The gesture was meant to calm her, but the moment her palm made contact with Kara’s leg, Lena felt a jolt of something entirely different shoot up her arm.

Kara’s gaze snapped to Lena, her phone forgotten for the moment. Her eyes then flicked down to Lena’s hand, then back up, her expression unreadable.

“El’s fine. You need to relax.”

Kara swallowed, nodding slowly. “Right. Relax.”

The limo hit a bump, and Lena’s hand slipped slightly, brushing further up Kara’s thigh before she could stop it. She pulled back quickly, heat rising to her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched.

“It’s okay.”

There was a pause, heavy and charged, as they looked at each other. 

The temptation to close the distance between them was almost unbearable for Lena. Her eyes flicked to Kara’s lips for the briefest of moments, and her pulse quickened. God, what are you doing to me?

Kara shifted slightly, leaning just a little closer, her hand brushing Lena’s on the seat. It wasn’t much—barely anything—but it felt monumental in the small, enclosed space. “Lena,” Kara said in a whisper.

“Yes?” 

Kara's blue eyes searched Lena’s face as though looking for permission. Her lips were parted, and Lena thought—knew—it was going to happen. Kara was going to kiss her.

But the limo slowed to a stop, the driver’s voice shattering their moment. “We’ve arrived, Miss Luthor.”

Both women pulled back abruptly, Kara clearing her throat awkwardly and Lena busying herself with her clutch, her cheeks burning.

They stepped out of the limo into the flash of cameras and the hum of the waiting crowd. But even as Lena plastered on her most practiced smile and waved gracefully, her mind was still back in the car.

Chapter Text

The ballroom was everything one would expect from a high-profile gala—chandeliers dripping with crystals, gilded columns lining the walls, and soft classical music weaving through the air tying the entire event together. It was beautiful, sure, but it was also exhausting. Lena knew the dance well: small talk with people who wanted to feel important, careful smiles that didn’t quite reach the eyes, and the constant manoeuvring to avoid conversations she had no interest in. She would much rather be at home, snuggled on the couch together with El and Kara. But at least tonight Kara was by her side - And Lena caught herself glancing at her more often than she should be. But who could blame her? Kara looked ...sexy! The deep navy of her dress hugging her figure in a way that made Lena’s mouth go dry. And when Kara flirted with her, which she did a lot, Lena felt almost giddy, like a teenager with a crush. Get a grip, Luthor.

As they wove through the crowd, Lena leaned closer to Kara, her voice a soft murmur only Kara could hear. “That’s Jennifer Smythe,” she said, nodding toward a petite woman in a sharp emerald suit. “She’s with the National Environmental Council. Focuses on clean energy policies and carbon credits. Ask her about the offshore wind projects—she loves to debate, but she respects anyone who can hold their ground. Could be a good contact for anything related to corporate greenwashing.”

Kara nodded, her lips twitching into a nervous smile. “No pressure, right?”

“None at all,” Lena teased, her fingers briefly brushing Kara’s arm before she gestured to the next guest. “And that’s Senator Goldstein. Pro-alien rights, but cautious. He’s been vocal about public safety concerns. I’d steer clear of anything too idealistic—he appreciates pragmatism. Mentioning your piece on integration policies might pique his interest.”

“Got it,” Kara said, straightening her posture. Her confidence grew with each whispered detail, and Lena felt a twinge of pride at how quickly Kara absorbed the information.

They reached the group, and Lena slid seamlessly into introductions. “Senator Goldstein, Jenny, it’s lovely to see you both,” she said, her polished smile as practiced as ever. “May I introduce Kara Danvers, one of CatCo’s finest reporters.”

Kara stepped forward, shaking hands with each guest in turn. She let Lena take the lead in conversation, slipping in when the timing felt right. “I’ve read about the clean energy policies you’re working on,” Kara said to Jenny, her tone casual but genuine. “The offshore wind projects seem promising.”

Jenny’s brows lifted, her smile widening. “They’re still early-stage—hardly the talk of the town. You’ve done your homework, Ms. Danvers.”

“I like to be prepared.”

The senator turned his attention to Kara, “You’re the one who wrote that piece on alien integration policies, I read it a few weeks ago. Balanced, well-argued. It’s rare to find that kind of nuance these days.”

“She’s thorough,” Lena interjected, her tone teasing but affectionate. “Trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of that journalistic integrity. If anyone’s qualified to comment on how fairly and thoroughly her work is investigated, it’s me.”  

“Well, it’s a subject close to my heart. I tried to approach it with as much fairness as I could.”

“You succeeded,” the senator replied, his nod slow and deliberate. “I’d be interested in discussing some of your points further.”

Kara offered a modest smile. “I’d love to.”

Lena stayed silent, watching Kara navigate the conversation with a quiet grace. 

“That was impressive,” she said softly, as they moved away from the group.

Kara's shoulders relaxed. “Thanks. I was a little worried I overdid it.”

“You didn’t,” Lena said. “You impressed."

They continued to mingle, Lena occasionally introducing Kara to someone new, enjoying the way Kara found her rhythm in these interactions. There was a spark in her—an earnestness and intelligence that drew people in. Lena found herself watching Kara more than the people they were speaking to, noting the subtle way her brows lifted when she was intrigued, the slight tilt of her head when she was processing something.

By the time they reached the third circle of mingling guests, Lena’s grip on Kara’s arm had loosened, but Kara stayed close, their steps in sync as they moved through the crowd. Daniel Cain, Lena's least favourite of the L-Corp investors, approached them. He greeted Lena before turning his attention quickly to Kara.

“And you must be Miss Luthor’s latest... conquest,” he said, his tone joking but laced with condescension.

Kara blinked, momentarily thrown, but Lena stepped in smoothly. “This is Kara Danvers, reporter for CatCo.” she said, “And no conquering here. Just respect and admiration. Something I imagine you’d find difficult to grasp.”

He stammered, his face reddening, and Kara bit back a laugh as Lena led her away. “That was...something,” Kara murmured.

Lena smirked. "Men like that are just noise, trust me.”

“I need to duck away for a bit,” Kara said softly. “I have to grab a few interviews and get some quotes for CatCo before the speeches start. I won’t be long. I just need a breakdown of the event’s funding angles and a few strong soundbites from key players in attendance. I already have a couple of questions lined up about the renewable energy initiative tied to L-Corp’s sponsorship.”

“Efficient and prepared,” Lena said with a smirk, “Well, if you need a quote from the CEO, you know where to find me.”

Kara grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She hesitated for a beat, her gaze lingering on Lena before she finally stepped away, moving through the crowd with a purposeful stride.

**

Lena was scanning the room, sipping her champagne, when a figure swept into her periphery. 

Cat Grant, dressed impeccably and exuding an aura of unshakeable confidence. 

Surprise, surprise. 

Cat moved through the crowd with the precision of a chess grandmaster, her sharp gaze taking in everything. When it was apparent that she was approaching Lena, Lena straightened, immediately on the defensive because Cat Grant was nothing if not unpredictable.

“Well, well,” Cat drawled, “Lena Luthor, gracing us mere mortals with her presence after months of elusiveness.”

“Cat, I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you'd left National City’s affairs behind?”

Cat tilted her head, a sly smile curling her lips. “Oh, you know me, Lena. I never truly leave anything behind." Cat’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “So, Keira,” she said lightly, the name rolling off her tongue with deliberate exaggeration. “My assistant, on your arm tonight? How...unexpected.”

Lena bristled. “Kara,” she corrected firmly, her voice edged with steel. “Reporter. A title she’s more than earned, as you well know.”

Cat shrugged, her expression feline. “Touchy, touchy,” she teased. “You’re protective of her. I didn’t expect that."

Lena gritted her teeth but made no effort to respond. 

"Well, as fascinating as your dating life isn’t, let’s pivot to something I actually care about. Word on the street is you’ve been... conspicuously absent from L-Corp. Quite the change for someone who once seemed intent on running the city from her ivory tower.”

“I wasn’t aware my work habits were of such interest to you, Cat. I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” Cat shot back, “I’m merely observing a pattern. Your brother’s unfortunate demise—though let’s not pretend we’re mourning that particular loss—coincided with your sudden retreat from the spotlight. And now here you are, back at a gala, but hardly the commanding presence we’re used to. It begs the question: what have you been up to, Lena?”

“Managing a multinational corporation doesn’t always require a public performance,” she said coolly. “Though, I’m sure that’s difficult for someone with your flair for the dramatic to understand. L-Corp is thriving under my leadership, as always. And while I may not feel the need to shout about it from the rooftops, I assure you, I haven’t missed a step.”

“Perhaps. But this disappearing act isn’t like you, Lena. It’s... off-brand. Something—someone—has pulled you out of your orbit. Tell me, what about these rumours I’ve been hearing?”

Lena tilted her head slightly, “Do enlighten me. Which rumours? I’d love to know what version of me is making the rounds.”

Cat leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make the words land with precision. “Whispers of a baby?”

Lena opened her mouth, but no words came—just a fleeting, stunned silence that felt deafening in the crowded room. Cat didn’t miss it; her lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Oh,” Cat drawled, triumphant. “Hit a nerve, have I? Interesting.”

Lena forced herself to recover, her spine straightening as she met Cat’s gaze with renewed fire. “You’ve clearly been digging into the wrong sources, Cat. Or maybe you’re just losing your edge.”

“Oh, Lena. Deny all you like, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to find a story. And yours? It’s practically begging to be told.”

“You’d better think very carefully before you even consider telling that story. Some things are off-limits, even for you.”

Before Cat could reply, Kara arrived, her radiant energy a stark contrast to the tension hanging in the air. “Miss Grant!” she exclaimed, her surprise and delight evident. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight! It’s so great to see you. National City’s been... quieter without you.”

“Quiet isn’t necessarily a compliment,” Cat quipped, though her eyes held a faint flicker of warmth. She glanced briefly at Lena, her smirk returning. “Speaking of quiet, your... date tonight isn’t exactly the life of the party.”

Kara frowned slightly. “Is everything okay?” she asked, looking between the two women.

“Lena and I were just catching up. Seeing how things are going with this mysterious baby.”

Kara’s easy demeanour evaporated in an instant. “Miss Grant, that’s not really your business.”

Cat blinked, momentarily taken aback by the edge in Kara’s voice. She studied her former assistant for a moment. “Well, well. Here I thought you didn’t have any secrets worth protecting, Keira.”

“It’s just not appropriate to pry into someone’s personal life.”

Cat’s gaze flicked back to Lena, her smirk widening. “Oh, but there’s clearly more to this than an illegitimate child tarnishing the Luthor name. The way you’re all reacting...” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly as if piecing together a puzzle. “Fascinating.”

“Drop it, Miss Grant,” Kara said, a quiet authority threading through the words.

“I’ll drop what I want to drop, Keira. And if there’s truly nothing to hide, then you have nothing to worry about.”

Lena opened her mouth, ready to deliver a scathing reply that would cut Cat down to size. But before she could speak, a voice crackled through the PA system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next speaker for the evening, Lena Luthor.”

The room shifted as a spotlight swung toward the stage, all eyes turning in expectation. Lena’s grip tightened on her champagne flute for a fleeting moment before she placed it on a passing tray, forcing herself to exhale.

“Showtime,” Cat said smoothly. She glanced back at Kara, “Good luck, Keira. It seems you’ve traded me for someone even more formidable.”

Without another word, Cat turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lena and Kara standing in her wake. The elusiveness of her exit felt intentional, her shadow lingering in the charged space she’d left behind.

Kara’s hand instinctively went to Lena’s arm, her concern etched in her expression. “Are you—?”

“I’m fine,” Lena cut her off. She adjusted her dress, smoothing invisible creases. “It’s nothing I haven’t handled before.”

Kara’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced. But she stepped aside as Lena made her way to the stage. Lena climbed the steps, the applause rolling through the room like distant thunder. Yet all she could hear were Cat’s words echoing in her head.

****

The door to Kara’s apartment closed with a soft thud. Lena strode in, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she dropped her clutch onto the counter with more force than necessary. She tugged at her earrings, tossing them onto the table with a clatter, then moved to unfasten her bracelet, her movements jerky and agitated.  

“That woman,” she muttered, “She’s insufferable. Who does she think she is?”

Kara followed more quietly, pausing to drape her jacket over the dining room chair. She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. The set of her jaw and the slight downward tilt of her brows betrayed her own anger, though she expressed it in her typical, quieter way. “I’ll talk to Miss Grant, she can’t just—”

“No!” Lena snapped, spinning to face her. “You’ll only make it worse. She’ll dig deeper just to spite you. She’d do it just to watch us squirm.”

Kara’s frown deepened. “So what, Lena? We just wait and hope she forgets?”

“Yes! And we hope she finds something more interesting than our daughter.”

Our daughter. The enormity of what it meant crashing into her like a wave. She forced herself not to look away from Kara’s face, but the heat rising to her cheeks betrayed her composure. Why did I say that? Her mind reeled. She hadn’t even hesitated, the words felt so natural and instinctive.

Kara had heard it. She’d felt it. Lena could tell. 

But Kara didn’t comment. Instead, she closed the space between them in a few easy steps, her movements deliberate but gentle. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Lena, pulling her close. Lena stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, before she allowed herself to relax against Kara’s chest. The familiar scent of her—clean, crisp, with a warmth that Lena could only associate with home.

Kara pressed her lips to Lena’s hair, her voice a quiet promise. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure El's never exposed, Lena. I swear.”

Lena’s fingers instinctively curled against the fabric of Kara’s dress. She nodded into Kara’s chest, “I know,” she whispered, “I know you will.”

**

Lena knocked twice when she arrived at Alex and Maggie’s apartment the next morning, her movements controlled, though she felt anything but. The door swung open to reveal Maggie, who greeted her with a wide grin.

“Luthor, come on in. Alex is just finishing up changing the munchkin.”

Lena stepped inside, her eyes scanning the cozy apartment until they landed on Alex, standing at the table buttoning El's onsie back up. The baby was happily smacking her hands on Alex's head, talking away in her own little language no one else understood. 

“There’s my girl,” Lena said softly, watching in delight as El turned in her direction and squealed excitedly. Lena stepped closer, brushing a stray curl away from El’s face, but the movement felt jerky, her usual calm exterior cracked, her internal tension palpable.

Alex noticed immediately. “Lena,” she said, her tone shifting to one of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” but her voice was tight.

Maggie raised a sceptical brow. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I’ll take El into the other room so you two can talk.”

Before Lena could protest, Maggie scooped up the baby with practiced ease, earning a delighted squeal from El. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s let your mom vent to Aunt Alex.”

Lena let silence settle over them for a few moments before she emptied her lungs with a defeated sigh. “It’s Cat Grant,” she eventually said, “She cornered me at the gala last night. Asked about El. Not vague questions—pointed ones.”

Alex’s expression darkened. “What does she know, exactly? You and Kara haven’t hidden El intentionally from the world?”

“She knows there’s a child,” Lena clarified, “Which isn’t the problem. While I don’t think she knows specifics, she knows there’s something. If she keeps digging—” Lena sank into the closest dining chair, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. “She’s going to figure it out, and once she does, it won’t just be El’s name in the headlines—it’ll be what she is. Her life will never be the same.”

"What are you going to do?"

“Kara offered to talk to Cat." 

“Kara confronting Cat is not a good idea. The woman reads her like a book. The less contact Kara has with her, the better.”

Lena leant back in her chair. “Then what do we do, Alex? If Cat keeps digging, she’s going to find something.”

"We can’t let her stumble onto the truth, but maybe we give her... something else.”

“Like what? I’m not going to invent a scandal for her to sink her teeth into.”

“Not a scandal,” Alex countered, “But something to justify why you’ve been secretive. Something that shifts the focus away from El’s... unique origins.”

Lena frowned, “Something like what?” 

“You could say you’ve been adopting in secret,” Alex suggested. “Frame it as you wanting to keep El out of the spotlight until you were sure you could take her in. It’s not entirely untrue—Just... leave out the Kryptonian experiment part.”

Lena’s shoulders sagged slightly as she considered Alex’s words. “Control the story by giving half-truths?”

Alex shrugged. “It’s worked for Kara for years. And it’s better than letting someone like Cat Grant piece together the full truth on her own.”

“And what if it doesn’t work? What if she keeps digging?”

“Then we handle it together,” Alex said firmly. “Kara, me, Maggie—we’ll figure it out. You’re not alone in this, Lena.”

For a moment, Lena didn’t respond. She focused on the sound of her baby giggling as Maggie chased her around the room. “I don’t care if the world knows we have a child. Let them speculate all they want about us. But if they figure out ... it’ll ruin her life. She’ll never be safe.”

Alex leaned forward, her expression softening. “Lena, we won’t let anything happen to her.”

Lena’s throat tightened, but she nodded slowly. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Alex offered a reassuring smile. “Anytime,” she said, standing. “Now let’s go get your kid before Maggie teaches her something wildly inappropriate.”

A small, genuine laugh escaped Lena’s lips for the first time that day.

**

Lena balanced El on her hip as she approached the apartment.  Everything still felt...unresolved. But she tried to push her worries aside. The only thing that mattered right now was getting indoors, setting El down for a nap, and maybe—just maybe—finding a moment to breathe.

What she hadn’t expected was to find Cat Grant standing just outside Kara’s apartment door, a perfectly manicured eyebrow arched, as Lena came to a stop.

“Well, well,” Cat drawled, her sharp eyes immediately landing on the baby. “And who do we have here?"

Lena instinctively pulled El closer. “Cat. To what do we owe the ...pleasure?”

Cat’s gaze flicked from Lena to the baby, then back again, her lips curving into a feline smirk. “I was in the neighbourhood,” she said breezily, though Lena doubted that very much. “And I thought I’d pay a visit to one of my most promising protégés.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “Kara isn’t here.”

“Clearly, but it seems you are. And... this little one.”

"I don’t see how we concern you.”

“Oh, Lena,” Cat said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Everything about you concerns me. Especially when rumours are swirling.”

Lena’s jaw clenched.  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, stepping past Cat and unlocking the door. “We’ve had a long day.”

She pushed the door open, but before she could step inside, Kara’s voice rang out.

“Miss Grant?” Kara appeared, her hair damp from the shower and a fluffy white towel slung around her neck. She was dressed casually in sweats and a tank top. Lena assumed she had just returned from the mission that had kept her busy all morning.

Cat breezed inside without waiting for an invitation. “We need to talk,” she said, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she strode into the living room. She tossed a folder onto the coffee table with a dramatic flourish. “Care to explain this?”

Kara crossed the room and picked up the folder, her eyes scanning the contents quickly. And then she froze.

Her jaw tightened as she handed the folder to Lena - Inside were detailed reports, photographs, and documents—every piece of damning evidence about the experiment that had created El. There were diagrams of the genetic manipulation, records of Lex’s failed attempts, and even notes from the caretaker who had looked after El in those early weeks.

“Where the hell did you get this?” Kara's voice was trembling with barely controlled fury.

“Little Luthor's guardian - the one who cared for her before Lex's death - spilled quicker than cheap wine at a sorority party.”

Lena placed a squirming El down onto her playmat, and moved to stand by Kara's side. 

“You’d be amazed what people will share when you have the right... incentive.”

Kara's hands balled into fists at her sides. “She was under legal obligation not to speak about what she knew.”

Cat tilted her head, unbothered. “Legal obligation doesn’t mean much when you’re dealing with people who have more to gain by talking than staying silent. Besides, I didn’t coerce—just asked the right questions and let her ramble.”

Kara’s nostrils flared, “You had no right—”

“Oh, spare me the righteous indignation,” Cat interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “This is bigger than you, Keira. Bigger than your... domestic bliss with the Luthor duo over here. You have to know the risk this poses.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Lena’s stomach dropped. Kara’s tone, that quiet resolve, sent alarms ringing in her head. “Kara...” she started, but Kara's eyes remained locked on Cat.

“You keep El’s secret. The DEO will handle the guardian—she’ll be transferred to a secure facility, and whatever loophole allowed this to happen will be sealed. No one else will hear about El or what Lex did.”

Cat pursed her lips, “And in return?”

Kara took a deep breath, her next words spoken with deliberate clarity. “In return, I’ll give you Supergirl’s secret identity.”

"No!" Lena gripped Kara's bicep ...she can’t. She wouldn’t.

“Supergirl’s identity? That’s... bold.”

“Not happening. Not on my watch.” Lena said firmly, stepping between Kara and Cat.

“Lena—”

“No, Kara.” Lena's eyes were glassy, “You don’t get to give up everything we’ve built for this. This isn’t just about you. It’s about us. Our family.”

Kara’s expression faltered for a moment, and Lena stepped closer, taking Kara's hands in hers. 

“This would sacrifice everything, and I can’t let you do that. I won’t let you.”

“As fascinating as your domestic drama is, I don’t particularly care to watch you sort it out. So, I’m going to burst this little bubble of delusion you’re living in, Keira. I’ve known you were Supergirl since the day I got the exclusive,” Cat continued, rolling her eyes like it bored her to be here, “I had my moments of doubt, sure, but I’m not... galactically stupid.”

"You've known? All this time? How—"

“Your disguise is a ponytail and a pair of glasses." she rolled her eyes, "Anyway, your secret is safe with me. And so is hers.” She nodded toward El. “But watch your backs. The world is a terrible place, filled with people far more sinister than me.”

“Why... why didn’t you say anything?” Kara asked.

Cat's sardonic grin returned. “Unmasking Supergirl?” she mused, “That’s like when the two protagonists of a TV show finally get together. Everyone says they want it, but when it happens, they lose all interest in the story. Better to keep the audience guessing—that gives me decades of stories to spin.”

She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And let’s be honest, Keira, you’re far more interesting as a mystery than you’d ever be as a headline.”

Kara blinked, caught somewhere between relief and disbelief, while Lena found herself staring, torn between admiration for Cat’s wit and sheer exasperation at her nerve.

“And you,” Cat said, her tone cool but not unkind, as she pointed to Lena. “You’re off the hook for this little familial melodrama. But if a sex scandal, dodgy business dealings, or anything else salacious comes floating my way with the name Luthor attached to it...I’ll pull no punches.”

Cat adjusted the strap of her designer bag, her air of superiority firmly intact. “Well, as much fun as this little reunion has been, I have actual work to do. Keira, Lena, child—goodbye.”

With that, she strode to the door, pulling it closed behind her with a decisive click.

Kara let out a long, shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “Well, that was…something,” she muttered, “I’ll call Alex and have the DEO start the prisoner transfer. We need to—”

“How could you?” Lena’s voice cut through the air like a blade. Kara froze mid-step, her hand dropping to her side. “How could you offer your identity like that?”

Kara frowned, her brows knitting together in the way that usually made Lena want to kiss them smooth. “I was doing it to protect—”

“No, Kara. You don’t get to make those choices like this anymore. It impacts El, it impacts—” she hesitated, her voice breaking, “It impacts me. Can’t you see that?”

“What would you have me do? Stand by and do nothing? Just hope it all works out?”

“No, I—” Lena began, but her voice faltered. The words she wanted to say, needed to say, caught in her throat like a lump too large to swallow. She felt the edges of herself fraying, unravelling, slipping from the tight control she prided herself on.

She was Lena Luthor—always poised, always collected. But this...this was Kara. The thought of losing her to the world—to the danger, the sacrifice, the endless risks—was too much. It broke something deep inside her.

A sob escaped before she could stop it, raw and sudden. It startled even her. She raised her hand to her mouth instinctively, desperate to hold it in, but it was no use. The dam had broken, and the flood was unstoppable. Her shoulders shook as the tears came, and she hated how helpless she felt... how exposed.

“Lena.” Kara stepped forward, reaching out, but Lena shook her head, pressing herself against the edge of the counter as if the distance could save her from the vulnerability threatening to swallow her whole. “Lena, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Lena tried to catch her breath. “I don’t—I’m not like this. I’m not usually like this.”

In an instant, Kara closed the gap between them, sweeping Lena into her arms as though she weighed nothing. “I’ve got you,” She murmured, carrying Lena to the couch, and cradling her close against her chest as she sat down.

Lena clung to her, her fists balling in Kara’s shirt as if letting go would mean losing her entirely. “I can’t do this,” she managed through the tears. “I can’t watch you throw yourself into danger so carelessly. I can’t lose you, Kara. I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Kara whispered, “I’m here. I’m right here.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Lena’s sobs began to subside, her breathing slowly evening out as Kara stroked her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Lena finally said.

“No, I am sorry,” Kara said, full of guilt and regret. “I just...I was so focused on protecting El that I didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”

Lena took a shaky breath, catching Kara's eyes so make sure the weight of her words landed, “You can’t just decide these things alone anymore. We’re a family, Kara. Family means we make these choices together. I can’t do this with you any other way. I need to know we’re in this together.”

Kara nodded silently, "I promise, Lena. I promise I'll do better."

Her hands were still cradling Lena’s face as if she feared letting go would shatter the fragile moment. Her eyes searched Lena’s, looking for something—reassurance, understanding, permission. 

Whatever it was, she seemed to find it.

Without a word, Kara leaned forward, her forehead resting against Lena’s for the briefest of moments before she tilted her head and pressed their lips together. The kiss wasn’t rushed or heated; it was soft and lingering, a tender exchange that spoke of everything they couldn’t say aloud.

Lena’s hands moved instinctively, one sliding up to curl into Kara’s hair while the other rested gently against Kara’s hip. The kiss was slow, deliberate—each movement a quiet confession of all the things she hadn’t yet said.

“Mama!”

El’s small voice rang out, clear and bright, breaking through the haze like a burst of sunlight.

Lena pulled back, her lips tingling and her heart racing. She blinked down at El, who toddled over on unsteady legs, clutching a plush toy in her tiny hands. She stopped just short of them, her earnest little face looking up at Lena with determination. “Mama,” she said again, holding the toy aloft like it was a prize.

Lena’s chest tightened with an overwhelming mix of love and amusement. She reached out to take the toy from El’s outstretched hands. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmured.

Kara beamed. “You’ve got the best timing, little one,” she said playfully, her voice warm and teasing.

El giggled, a bubbling sound of pure delight, and leaned into Kara’s legs. Kara, ever the doting parent, swept her up effortlessly, cradling her between them. “Mommy and I were having a moment,” Kara teased lightly, her blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint as she glanced at Lena.

Lena could only shake her head. “Apparently, moments are a luxury in this household.”

Kara shuffled slightly, adjusting El so that she was settled snugly.

Lena reached over to brush her fingers against El’s cheek, feeling the softness of her skin. 

“Later?” Kara mouthed over El’s head, her grin cheeky and full of promise.

***

Lena stretched lazily, her body waking slowly to the familiarity of the apartment: the faint hum of the city outside, El’s soft breathing from her crib, and Kara’s steady warmth beside her.

“Mmm… morning,” Kara murmured when she noticed Lena was awake. 

Lena loved it when her voice was all low and a little raspy with sleep.

“Good morning.”

Kara propped herself up on one elbow, her expression shy but earnest. “So… uh,” she started, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Am I... allowed to, um … maybe...potentially... kiss you good morning?”

Lena’s heart gave a little lurch at the question. She studied Kara’s face, her shy grin and the faint pink tint creeping up her cheeks. It was impossible not to be charmed.

“Maybe, potentially?” Lena teased, tilting her head slightly. “You’re very bold this morning, Danvers.”

Kara chuckled. “I just… didn’t want to assume.”

Lena leaned forward, cupping Kara’s cheek and brushed their lips together in a soft, lingering, toe curling kiss.

**

The rest of the morning unfolded with the practiced ease of routine. Lena eventually slipped out of bed and into the shower while Kara went to check on El, lifting the baby from her crib with a cheerful “Good morning, star!” 

By the time Lena emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day, the smell of toast and eggs filled the air. Kara was pouring coffee, and El was perched in her high chair munching on a slice of buttered toast.

“Morning, again,” Kara said with a grin, bouncing over to land a kiss at the corner of Lena's mouth. 

“Two good mornings in one day,” Lena quipped, “I’m spoiled.”

The fact that Lena was managing to stay this calm when, on the inside, she was screaming like a teenage girl, was nothing short of miraculous. The morning had been… well, a lot.

What followed their first 'good morning' kiss could only be described as making out. Glorious, unhurried, shouldn’t this be illegal at 6:30 a.m. making out. Lena wasn’t entirely sure how long they’d stayed tangled up like that, lips brushing, hands wandering in soft, tentative touches, but it was not long enough.

Kara handed Lena her coffee - just the way she liked it - and Lena slid into her chair at the table. 

“So,” Lena began, her tone shifting just slightly into professional territory (anything to get her libido out of the driving seat), “Things seem to be in motion for the L-Corp crèche.”

Kara looked up from where she was wiping El’s hands with a wet cloth. “Oh? I thought you were still finalising the feasibility study.”

“I was, but the numbers from Finance came in yesterday, and Legal has cleared the preliminary contracts with the providers we shortlisted. I had Jess confirm the zoning compliance for the space we’re retrofitting, so we’re good to move forward.”

“That’s so fast,” Kara said, clearly impressed. “It’s a good move, Lena. A crèche at L-Corp... that’s going to mean a lot to your employees. It’s one of those things people talk about needing but never actually get.”

Lena felt a flush of pride warming her. “We’ll start with space for forty children, scaling up to a hundred within two years, depending on uptake. I had the team run a survey last month—quietly, of course—and the demand is definitely there.”

“You really thought of everything,” Kara said, a grin tugging at her lips. “What’s next? Schooling through college?”

“Not quite. But I’ve reached out to a few firms to discuss partnerships for early childhood development programs. If we’re going to do this, it’s going to be more than just babysitting. Enrichment activities, certified educators, and state-of-the-art facilities.”

Kara leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied Lena. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Lena arched a brow. “I’m efficient.”

Kara snorted. “Efficiently incredible.”

Lena shook her head. “It’s just... I want to be able to do both. Be there for El and still manage the company. And if I can make life easier for others at the same time, why wouldn’t I?”

Kara reached across the table and covered Lena’s hand with her own, squeezing gently. “Well, from where I’m sitting, you’re balancing both pretty perfectly already.”

Lena glanced at their joined hands.

Kara cleared her throat. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” she asked, not letting go of Lena's hand. 

“Playdate with the mums’ group this morning.”

Kara grinned knowingly. “Ah, the mums’ group." 

It had been Kara’s teasing encouragement that had pushed Lena to attend that first meetup. Back then, she had been hesitant. The idea of sitting in a circle with other mothers, making small talk about sleep schedules and nappy brands, had seemed absurd. But she had surprised herself by enjoying it more than she ever anticipated. They didn’t see her, the Luthor with the tarnished legacy or the billionaire CEO. They saw a fellow mum, fumbling her way through the chaos of parenthood, just like them.

It was oddly freeing, sharing stories about sleepless nights and El’s increasingly adventurous diet. A part of her felt indulgent in the normalcy of it all, but the other part cherished it fiercely.

“You like it,” Kara said, breaking into her thoughts, “Admit it.”

“I don’t hate it,” Lena conceded, “It’s refreshing, honestly. Nobody cares who I am—no questions about the company, or Lex, or anything remotely related to the headlines. Just chatter about which coffee shop is best for prams and whose kid is teething first.”

“So… is El still winning?”

Lena shot her a glare, “It’s not a competition, Kara.”

Kara arched an eyebrow. “No? Because last week, you called me on your way back and said, ‘Guess whose baby is walking around unassisted while Susan’s Toby just rolls around like a potato?’”

Lena groaned, “I may have been… momentarily smug.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Kara said, crossing her arms. “Momentarily.”

“Alright, fine. Yes, she’s still more advanced than all the other babies. Even Jake, who’s two months older.”

“El for the win,” Kara said with a fist pump, leaning closer to El with a mock-serious expression. “Good job, kiddo. You’re making us proud.”

“It grinds Marianne’s gears so badly,” Lena added, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Last week, she kept saying, ‘Oh, Jake could stand up at 10 months too, he just prefers to sit down.’” Lena mimicked Marianne’s overly sweet tone with pinpoint precision.

“Does she know she’s competing with the daughter of Lena frigen Luthor!”

Lena shrugged innocently. “I'll just let El’s accomplishments speak for themselves.”

Kara shook her head, still grinning. “Lena, you so make it a competition.”

“I do not!” Lena shot back, “I simply… enjoy watching Marianne’s face twist when El does something her precious Jake hasn’t mastered yet.”

Kara snorted, “Not a competition, huh?”

“Not in the slightest,” Lena said smoothly, brushing invisible lint from her sweater. “But if it were, we’d be winning.”

Kara cackled. 

“And after mums’ group?” She eventually prompted, once her laughter settled.

“After that, I have El’s monthly check-in with Alex at the DEO. So, if you’re not too busy saving the world—” she made a small flying motion with her hand, “—maybe we can steal you for lunch.”

Kara’s face lit up. “I’d love that.”

“What about you?” Lena asked, “What’s on your plate today?”

Kara groaned dramatically, making El giggle. “Duty calls—the reporting kind, not the world-saving kind. I’ve been following up on a lead from the Senator. The one we talked to at the gala?”

“Hmm, I recall he was looking to spearhead local alien integration policies? What’s the angle?”

“He’s pushing a new housing initiative—alien-friendly zoning laws to make affordable housing more accessible for alien residents. But there’s pushback. Some local developers are claiming it’s going to cut into their bottom line, but I suspect there’s something deeper going on.”

Lena nodded, her mind already racing through possibilities. “Have you traced their funding? Sometimes the loudest voices against these kinds of initiatives have financial ties to people or groups with anti-alien agendas.”

“Not yet, but I was going to start with their campaign doners.”

“Smart,” Lena said, nodding. “But also look at any local real estate organisations. Developers might be funnelling influence through zoning boards or community leaders. And don’t let the senator use the ‘alien-friendly’ branding to water down the initiative. If he is genuine, he needs to know you’ll hold him accountable, too.”

“Of course,” Kara said, her tone resolute. “If he’s not serious about real change, that’s part of the story.”

“Good, because a half-measure dressed up as progress is worse than nothing at all.”

Kara grinned at her, “You should’ve been a journalist.”

“I'll stick to being a scientist,” Lena countered, her smile teasing. “And an occasional sounding board for the best reporter I know.”

“Thanks, Lena. Really.” Kara finished the last bite of her breakfast, brushing crumbs from her fingers before standing to tidy her plate. “Alright, little star,” she said, turning to El, who was talking away to a toy in her high chair. “You be good for Mommy today, okay?”

El giggled, her pudgy fingers smacking the tray in response. Kara leaned down, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. 

“Okay, I’m off,” She ran her hands down her blouse as she turned toward Lena.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Goodbye,” she said evenly.

Kara lingered awkwardly, her hands hovering as if she didn’t quite know what to do with them. Her gaze flicked to Lena’s lips, then away, her cheeks taking on that tell-tale pink hue that Lena had come to find utterly endearing.

“Okaybye!” Kara blurted suddenly, stepping forward and capturing Lena’s lips in a rushed kiss.

It was over almost as quickly as it began, Kara pulling back with a bashful grin before turning toward the door in a flurry of limbs. “I’ll call you later!” she tossed over her shoulder as she strode away, but then hit the doorframe with a resounding thunk.

Lena winced, suppressing a laugh as Kara muttered an apology—not to her, but to the door itself.

Kara finally made her escape without further incident, leaving Lena shaking her head and grinning to herself. “She’s hopeless,” she murmured, touching her lips lightly where Kara’s had just been.

**

Lena perched on the edge of Alex’s desk, one leg crossed over the other, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she observed El toddling around the lab. The baby was clutching Alex’s stethoscope, babbling to herself as if conducting an important medical exam. Every so often, El would pause to look up at Lena or Alex, her bright eyes sparkling with a curiosity that was impossible to ignore.

“She’s going to be smarter than all of us combined,” Alex said, watching as El attempted to loop the stethoscope around her neck like a seasoned professional.

“Step aside Danvers. Make room for Doctor El.” 

El toddled over to Lena, holding up the stethoscope triumphantly. Lena crouched to meet her, gently taking it and placing it around her own neck. “Why, thank you, Doctor,” she said, which earned a delighted giggle.

“Test results are in. All still clear,” Alex said, spinning a tablet in her hand. “No anomalies, no surprises. Whatever cocktail of insanity Lex’s team put together, they somehow managed to stabilise her DNA.”

Lena exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing. “Good.”

With all the good things going on in her life at the moment—the blossoming, undefined something between her and Kara (cue internal screaming; she couldn’t even think straight half the time)—Lena couldn’t help but feel like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It wasn’t pessimism, exactly; it was just... experience. Good things didn’t come without a catch, and when you were a Luthor, the catch usually came swinging like a wrecking ball.

So, knowing El’s results were still good was a massive relief. 

Alex leaned against the desk, studying Lena carefully. "So—what’s the deal with you and Kara? Why all the tiptoeing? Just admit you’re lesbi-friends and call it a day.”

Lena gave her a flat look. Alex was pretty cocky for someone who had spent a considerable amount of time hiding in the closet herself. And for the record, that was not what she and Kara were doing.

The... lesbian aspect of their relationship hadn’t really crossed her mind, not in the sense Alex seemed to imply. Lena had always been fluid in her sexuality, never one to box herself into strict labels. And she couldn’t imagine it would matter to Kara either. Kara wasn’t the type to fixate on those kinds of definitions; she lived in the moment, letting her heart guide her more than anything else.

But Alex’s teasing wasn’t entirely unwarranted. The dynamic between her and Kara wasn’t exactly subtle these days. 

“I'm just saying, as your friendly sister-in-law, you’re both so obvious. Why the denial?” Alex continued. 

“I’m not denying anything. I know how I feel about her. I...care for her very deeply...beyond typical platonic bonds.”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“I’m saying,” Lena continued, frustrated, “that my feelings for Kara have ...evolved into something that could be classified as... highly specific affection with...romantic underpinnings.”

Alex just stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Lena, this isn't a research paper.”

Lena’s cheeks flushed. 

“Stop overthinking it. You love her. Say it.”

I do! I love, love, love her.

Lena rolled her eyes. She hadn't even told Kara yet. It felt wrong to confess it for the first time to the wrong Danvers. “You know I do..." she conceded, "But right now, we’re in this...phase. The stumbling-into-a-relationship phase. It’s gooey and special, and with El in the picture, it’s already complicated enough without everyone else piling on their expectations.”

“Okay. Fair point. I’ll back off. But if you need me to pressure Kara into anything, just let me know.”

Lena snorted. “That would be exactly the kind of disaster I’m trying to avoid.”

And they were doing alright, thank you very much. Kara had initiated three kisses this morning alone, each one leaving Lena with that ridiculous, giddy flutter in her chest. She wasn’t keeping score or anything, but she was very much looking forward to tonight—when El was asleep and she could play catch-up on the kiss initiation game. And maybe, just maybe, they could...

The familiar whoosh of Kara’s arrival yanked Lena from her spiralling thoughts.

Kara strolled in, her hair windswept and cheeks flushed, looking every inch the hero she was. The Supergirl suit clung to her like a second skin, hugging her figure in ways that felt entirely unfair. Lena’s eyes betrayed her, trailing downward to that section of Kara’s thigh where her boots ended and her skirt began—a tantalising stretch of skin that had Lena swallowing hard. She was suddenly, acutely aware of how hot it was in the lab.

The thought slipped into her mind unbidden, vivid and impossible to shake: what it would feel like to slide her hand beneath that skirt, to feel the warmth of Kara’s skin against her palm

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she could stop herself, and she quickly snapped her gaze back to meet Kara's. 

Lena felt the air between them thicken, charged with something electric. She swallowed hard, fully aware she had been blatantly ogling Kara from head to toe. And Kara had noticed. Gone was the gentle, slightly bashful demeanour of the Kara Danvers she knew—This Kara, standing before her, radiated confidence, a quiet intensity that Lena couldn’t quite handle. Her posture shifted, her chin tilted ever so slightly, and her eyes—God, her eyes—burned with a heat that made Lena’s knees feel like they were about to give out entirely.

Kara stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, and Lena’s breath hitched. The movement felt like a declaration. A display of Kara in all her unapologetic power and presence, and it had Lena helplessly rooted to the spot.

The corner of Kara’s lips quirked upward, a knowing smirk, as though she could see every thought racing through Lena’s mind. “Everything okay?” she asked, her voice low, rich, and impossibly smooth.

Lena barely managed to compose herself, forcing a sharp breath through her lips. “Fine,” she said, her tone clipped, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, trying to keep herself grounded. “Just… fine.”

Kara’s smirk deepened, her eyes lingering on Lena a moment longer before she glanced over at El, breaking the moment. “Hey, little star,” she greeted, crouching down to her with a gentleness that felt worlds away from the intensity Lena had just experienced.

Alex groaned audibly, spinning in her chair with exaggerated exasperation. “Seriously. I can't handle this anymore.”

Kara looked between Alex and Lena. “What?”

Lena narrowed her eyes and Alex.

“Never mind.” Alex waved Kara off, grabbing El as she toddled over with the stethoscope again. “I’ll be over here with the only person in this lab who is sane.”

**

Lena carried the picnic basket in one hand, the other arm balancing a blanket draped neatly over it, as she strolled beside Kara. Kara, in turn, had El perched securely on her shoulders, the toddler's chubby hands clutching fistfuls of Kara's hair like reins. It was a familiar sight, one that drew fond smiles from passersby in the local park. This particular spot, just a short walk from DEO headquarters, had become their go-to lunch destination—a small slice of normalcy tucked into their otherwise extraordinary lives.

El squealed in delight as Kara picked up her pace, her laughter ringing out across the park.

“Slow down before you take off,” Lena called out.

“We are saving the flying for when you are older, right, little star?” Kara tilted her head, and El babbled enthusiastically in response, patting Kara’s forehead like a tiny queen inspecting her loyal subject.

“At least until she is 30.”

They reached their picnic spot, a quiet patch of grass shaded by a large oak tree. Kara set El down on the blanket Lena had unfolded. El immediately began to crawl toward the edge, her curious fingers reaching for a stray blade of grass.

Kara scooped El back to the center of the blanket. “Nice try, little star. You’re not disappearing into the wilderness today.”

They had admittedly both been a little underprepared for how fast a crawling, toddling baby could move. It was one thing to read about developmental milestones, but entirely another to live them in real-time. Even Kara, with her superspeed, had been caught off guard more than once. El was an escape artist in the making.

Just last week, during a picnic in this very park, they’d been deep in conversation— about the ethicacy of Kara entering a food eating contest when she was literally from another planet—when a moment of eerie silence interrupted them. They’d looked up, and El was already halfway across the grass, crawling at an alarming speed toward a very unbothered pigeon.

Kara had sprung into action, barely managing to maintain a human speed, and returned a second later with a giggling El in her arms. The pigeon, unimpressed, simply waddled a few feet further away.

“You can fly faster than a speeding bullet, and yet our daughter still outran you,” Lena had teased.

Today, Lena had prepared sandwiches, carefully wrapped, cut-up fruit in neatly sealed containers, and a small stash of baby crackers for El.

Kara plopped down beside her, legs stretched out and an easy grin on her face as El babbled loudly from her spot on the blanket. The baby had already discovered the joy of tossing crackers into the air, her laughter a high-pitched melody that made Kara chuckle.

One particularly ambitious throw landed a cracker on the edge of the blanket. Without missing a beat, Kara picked it up and popped it into her mouth, her exaggerated munching drawing an enthusiastic squeal from El.

“Look at her,” Kara said, her voice full of admiration as she gestured to the little whirlwind of energy. “I swear, we’ve got a prodigy on our hands.”

Lena arched an eyebrow. “If throwing things counts as a skill, then yes, she’s absolutely excelling.”

Kara’s laughter rang out, clear and bright. She leaned back on her hands, tilting her face to catch the sun filtering through the oak’s branches. 

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of rustling leaves and the soft hum of nearby conversations from other families in the park.

Lena ran her hand across the blanket, smoothing an invisible wrinkle as her gaze lingered on Kara. A quiet ache settled in her chest—the kind that came from knowing you were exactly where you wanted to be, even if you weren’t sure how to say it.

“Kara,” she began, her voice steady but low. “I’ve been thinking.”

Kara turned her head toward Lena, sunlight catching in her hair. "About?"

“I think we need to come out.”

Kara froze. “Oh.” Her face turned a vibrant shade of pink. “I mean...okay? If you’re ready to, I guess—”

Lena’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “Not like that!” she blurted, quickly waving her hands. “I meant...with El. As a Luthor who has... a daughter. With people already speculating about El, someone’s going to demand an interview eventually, and I’d rather own the story than have it spun out of control.”

Kara relaxed, the pink fading slightly from her cheeks. “Ohhh. That makes way more sense.” She chuckled awkwardly and looked down at the baby, who was gnawing determinedly on her sippy cup. “Sorry, my brain might’ve gone somewhere else for a second.”

“I know exactly where it went...Your panic was palpable.”

And now Lena was panicking herself. Why would Kara not want to.... come out? She knew Kara wasn’t one to shy away from being open and honest—or so she thought, before that little freak out. 

Kara gave her a sheepish grin, leaning forward to nudge Lena with her shoulder. “You said 'come out'...what else was I supposed to think? But...I get what you’re saying. You’re right. If someone’s going to tell the world about El, it should be you.”

Actually, it shouldn’t be just Lena. Kara was a part of their lives—an enormous, unwavering part. She was there for midnight diaper changes, for El’s wobbly first steps. She wasn’t just a guest in their family dynamic; she was a fixture, a constant.  

“So,” Kara continued, breaking Lena’s thoughts. “An article then....What angle would you want to take?”

Lena blinked, trying to focus on Kara's question and not the million other things that were now running through her mind. “Honestly, I don’t want El to be the story,” she admitted. “She’s too young to have a say in it, and dragging her into the spotlight feels...wrong. But the reality is, people are going to talk regardless.”

“What if we make it less of a breaking news story and more of a...personal insight piece? Something for the lifestyle section. Like a column or feature about balancing motherhood and running a company.”

Lena tilted her head. “The ‘CEO juggling motherhood’ spin?” Her lips quirked upward. “How very ‘Women Who Do It All’. Wouldn’t that be a bit too cliché?”

“Not if we do it right,” Kara said, sitting up. She gestured animatedly with her hands. “Think about it—it publicizes that you’re a mother without making El the center of attention. You can control what’s shared, and it highlights your accomplishments without turning it into tabloid fodder. You can even use it to officially announce the L-Corp Creche.”

Lena considered it, “It’s not a bad idea,” she said slowly. “And you would write it? Would that work? Or is there some journalistic integrity issue with—” She hesitated, her words faltering. “—with my...the person I’m close to writing it?”

Kara’s cheeks flushed faintly, and she fumbled with a blade of grass. “Well, maybe that’s something we’d have to address. Like, full disclosure at the start: ‘As someone who knows Ms. Luthor personally, I’ve had the privilege of seeing first-hand how she navigates this new chapter of her life.’ That kind of thing.”

Lena arched a brow, suppressing the urge to smile. “Privilege, hmm?”

Kara’s flush deepened, and she chuckled nervously. “You know what I mean. And maybe- What if I brought Nia in to co-write it? She’s brilliant—sharp, empathetic, and doesn’t pull punches. She’d handle the piece with care, but she’s got enough of a journalistic edge to keep it from feeling like fluff.”

“And you trust her with this?” Lena asked, her voice cautious.

“Completely,” Kara said without hesitation. “She’s our friend and she’d never cross a line.”

Lena nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to El, who was toddling determinedly toward the edge of the blanket. Kara reached out just in time, scooping the little girl up and setting her back on the mat with an amused smile.

“It might work,” Lena murmured, her thoughts already spinning. “Having her name on the by-line instead of just yours could help dispel any accusations of bias.”

“And,” Kara added, “Nia’s a pro at navigating sensitive topics. She’s covered everything from political debates to personal stories about alien integration. She’d know how to frame this without turning it into a spectacle. If you’re comfortable with it, we can set up a meeting.”

“That sounds...manageable,” Lena replied, her tone thoughtful. Her gaze fixed on El, who was reaching for a butterfly just out of reach.

This article... What could she even say? She adopted El—that was the truth she wanted to share. But the world would demand more. It always did. The story had to be enough to satisfy curiosity without giving away too much. Protecting El was the priority. It always would be.

“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” Kara said softly, her voice breaking through Lena’s thoughts.

Lena glanced at her, taking in the calm reassurance in Kara’s expression. The steady presence she didn’t realize she needed.

“No,” Lena murmured, “but we’ll need to get it right.”

“We will.” And somehow, Lena believed her.

Chapter Text

The camera flashed again, its bright light cutting through the carefully controlled chaos of the studio. Lena sat stiffly on a low-backed chair, El balanced on her knee. 

She wore a fitted dark green sheath dress that hugged her figure in all the right places, its neckline modest but elegant, with a subtle sheen that caught the light as she moved. Her hair was styled in soft waves that cascaded over one shoulder, a deliberate choice to frame her face for the camera. A tailored black blazer draped over the chair behind her, abandoned after she decided it made the outfit feel too formal.  The baby squirmed, her hands reaching for the dangling necklace Lena had thought would complete her outfit.

She’d gone for her usual polished, professional look, but sitting here under the scrutiny of the lens and her fidgeting toddler made her feel more overdressed than put-together. Still, appearances mattered, especially today. 

“Keep her looking this way, Lena!” James called out from behind the camera, his tone patient but focused.

Lena tried her best to coax a smile from El, her voice lilting as she murmured nonsense words and tickled under the baby’s chin. But her own lips felt like stone, her efforts mechanical. Her gaze drifted to the side, where Maggie stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her sharp gaze sweeping over the scene with barely concealed amusement.

Maggie had shown up on her lunch break, uninvited but not unwelcome, her detective instincts seemingly drawn to any situation that reeked of discomfort. And Lena’s discomfort was palpable.

When they’d arrived for the shoot, El had been wearing a beribboned sun hat. It matched her little outfit—a soft, yellow romper with frilly edges. Maggie had taken one look and snorted loudly. “She looks like she just stepped out of an 1800s portrait,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Is this a family shoot or the next catalogue for overpriced baby clothes?”

Lena had initially bristled, but as Maggie leaned down and tugged the hat off El’s head, revealing her soft curls, she had to admit the detective was right. The hat had felt insincere—like they were playing into some caricature of a rich family for a public relations stunt.

“She’s not a doll,” Maggie had quipped, giving Lena a pointed look. “She’s El. Let her be El.”

Lena had sighed and nodded, stowing the hat in her bag. Now, as she watched Maggie, ever the blunt voice of reason, Lena couldn’t help but feel grateful for her presence. She was chaos, sure, but the kind of chaos that cut through the awkwardness.

“You’re doing great,” Kara whispered from just out of frame, a soft reassurance that should have calmed Lena but instead made her throat tighten, her carefully constructed poise cracking slightly. 

“I need a break,” she said abruptly, standing and handing El to Kara.

James lowered his camera, sensing the shift in energy, while Kara stepped in to take El without hesitation, her brow furrowing as she watched Lena stride toward the corner of the room.

“Everything okay?” Maggie asked, pushing off the wall and following Lena.

“Fine,” Lena replied curtly, but Maggie wasn’t the type to be brushed off. She joined Lena by the floor-to-ceiling window, where Lena stood staring out at the National City skyline, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Maggie waited a beat before speaking. “You’re fidgeting, Luthor. Spill it.”

Lena let out a humourless laugh, her fingers tightening on her arms. “I just... It doesn’t feel complete.”

“What doesn’t?”

Lena hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Kara was bouncing El gently, murmuring something that made the baby giggle uncontrollably. 

“This,” Lena said, gesturing vaguely toward the studio setup. “The photos. They’re...missing something.”

Maggie tilted her head, her gaze narrowing. “Something, or someone?”

Lena’s jaw tightened. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is,” Maggie said, leaning against the glass. “You want Kara in the photos. So put her in the photos.”

“If I do that, it becomes...a thing. People will dissect it, read into it. They’ll make it about politics, about labels. It stops being about El.”

Maggie snorted, her expression softening. “Let me guess—you’re worried people are gonna look at those photos and think, ‘Wow, Lena Luthor’s gay.’”

Lena’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t deny it.

Maggie stepped closer, her tone gentler now. “Listen, Lena. You’re not the first person to worry about being put under a microscope. But here’s the thing—this isn’t about them. It’s about you. It’s about what feels true to you, to your family.”

“I don’t want to make it a political statement,” Lena murmured, her voice cracking slightly.

“And it’s not,” Maggie replied. “Unless you let it be. People are gonna talk no matter what, but you get to decide what the story is. You, not them.”

Lena’s eyes dropped to the floor, her hands clenching into fists. “She’s just...so much to me,” she admitted softly. “Both of them are. And I’m terrified of what people will do to twist that.”

“No one’s saying it’s easy. But you’re not doing this alone. You’ve got Kara, and trust me—there’s no one better to have in your corner.”

Lena nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. “You’re right.”

Maggie smirked. “Of course I am. Now go put your girl in those photos before James throws a fit.”

**

Lena approached Kara, who was still entertaining El. She looked up, her face brightening when she saw Lena.

“You okay?” 

“I will be,” Lena said. She looked at James, who was adjusting his camera. “We’re adding one more to the shoot.”

James grinned, gesturing for Kara to step into frame.

Kara blinked in surprise. “Me?”

Lena nodded. “You’re part of this family. I want you with us." Lena hesitated, her voice faltering, "But this isn’t just about being in the photos, Kara. You know what this would mean, right? What people will think? That you’re...Mine. That we’re...together. As a family. It’s won't just be a photo—it’s a statement. And if you’re not okay with that—if it’s too much—”

Kara cut her off with a quiet laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Lena,” she said, her voice low and warm. “I’ve been yours for...well, forever, if I’m honest. The rest of the world catching up to that? Doesn’t bother me.”

Lena looked at Kara, standing there with her stupidly perfect hair, her impossibly earnest eyes, and that gentle, unshakable confidence that seemed to defy every law of the universe. Kara, who somehow managed to be all of it—Supergirl, reporter, friend, partner—without crumbling under the weight of the world. And who, against all odds, seemed to see Lena as...enough. More than enough.

God, she was in love with her. Not the quiet, manageable kind of love she could tuck away and pretend didn’t exist. No, this was the reckless, heart-shaking, capital letters LOVE that consumed her entire being. The kind that made her chest ache just looking at Kara, that made her hands itch to reach out and hold her, that made the idea of a life without her utterly unbearable.

Lena’s breath hitched, her pulse pounding in her ears. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Kara said simply, her blue eyes locked onto Lena’s. “We’ve been doing this—raising El, building a life—together for months. This just makes it official.”

Lena willed herself not to get emotional. She nodded. “Okay. Then let’s do this.”

Kara smiled, her dorky, brilliant smile that Lena adored far too much. “Let’s do this.”

James, from behind the camera, clapped his hands. “All right, lovebirds, if you’re done having your moment, let’s get to work!”

Kara stepped into frame with El perched on her hip. Lena followed, slipping her hand into Kara’s without thinking. When she realized what she’d done, she almost pulled away, but Kara’s fingers tightened around hers, grounding her.

Maggie, still leaning against the wall, gave Lena a subtle thumbs-up, her smirk firmly in place.  

***

Lena sat on the couch, El’s soft babbling drifting from the playmat on the floor, and swiped through the photos James had sent from the shoot. She smiled faintly at a particularly sweet shot of El mid-giggle, her tiny hands reaching for the camera, pure joy on her face. Lena had already decided that one would be framed for the office. 

She scrolled to the next photo and stopped dead, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Kara.

Her button-down black shirt fit her like it was tailored by the gods themselves, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the sinewy lines of her forearms. Her hair was a little mussed—no doubt from wrangling El during the shoot—but it only added to her charm. 

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. This one might end up as her phone background. Or framed on her nightstand. Or tattooed on her soul forever.

Kara looked good—too good. How the hell was Lena supposed to control herself around her at this rate? She already felt like a hormonal teenager every time Kara was in the same room, and now, knowing they could kiss anytime they wanted (and oh, did they want), Lena was pretty sure she was doomed.

Her thoughts flickered back to earlier, when they’d returned home from the shoot. El had been fast asleep in the car, her tiny body limp with the pure exhaustion of a busy day. Kara had carried her up to the apartment, cradling her so gently. She’d kissed El’s forehead before lowering her into the cot, and Lena had felt something inside her snap.

The second Kara turned, Lena had pinned her against the nearest wall. Kara had gasped—whether from surprise or something else entirely—and Lena had used the opportunity to nip at her jawline, working her way toward her ear. Kara’s hands found Lena’s waist, pulling her closer, and Lena felt the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

“Lena,” Kara had breathed, her voice low and wrecked, her head falling back against the wall as Lena’s hands tugged the shirt free from her pants, before they slid up under Kara’s shirt, fingers splaying across warm, bare skin. 

And then Kara’s DEO phone had rung, shattering the moment into a thousand infuriating pieces.

“No. Noooo. Not now.” Kara had groaned. She’d slammed her head back against the wall with such force that it left a dent.

“You’d better save the world in record time and come back to me, Kara.” Lena had muttered, stepping back, cheeks flushed and heart pounding. Kara had thrown her an apologetic grin, kissed her quickly and darted off to handle the “alien cattle stampede in the Midwest.” 

Lena sighed now, her eyes drifting back to the photo on her phone. “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?” she muttered, glancing over at El, who, unsurprisingly, offered no advice. 

***

The faint whoosh of air announced Kara’s arrival before she even touched down, her boots landing lightly on the kitchen floor. She was filthy—dust caked on her suit, her hair tangled and wild, and a streak of something Lena didn’t want to identify smudged across her cheek. But it was her eyes—dark, almost predatory—that froze Lena in place. The pure, unrelenting hunger in them sent a shiver down her spine.

"I'm back."

Lena barely had time to take a breath before Kara was on her, her mouth claiming Lena’s with a ferocity that left her dizzy. She kissed with the urgency of someone who had spent hours away from something they couldn’t live without, her hands sliding around Lena’s waist and pulling her close.

Lena stumbled back against the counter, gasping when Kara’s lips moved to her jaw, then her neck, the heat of her breath sending sparks skittering across Lena’s skin.

Lena's own hands roamed across Kara’s body, sliding over the smooth, unyielding surface of the Supergirl suit. God, how did this thing even work? No seams—just an impenetrable layer of alien technology mocking her very existence.

She brushed her fingers over Kara’s shoulders, her arms, her waist, searching blindly for any clue. There has to be a hidden latch, or a button, or—something, she thought, her frustration mounting. Who designs a suit without any obvious way to take it off?  Overengineered and under-thought.

“Kara,” she managed to say, her voice breathless. 

“Mmm?” Kara murmured against her neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“How—” Lena paused, gasping again when Kara’s lips returned to hers. “How the hell do you get this damn suit off?”

Is it magic? Did they glue it on?

She pushed at the fabric near Kara’s collarbone, then along her ribs, in a mix of frustration and curiosity. Maybe it’s heat-activated? Or pressure-sensitive? Would Kara even notice if I cut it with scissors? No, bad idea.

Kara pulled back just far enough to meet her eyes, her gaze smouldering. “There's a zipper,” she grunted, “In the back. But I need to shower, I’m covered in...whatever that was. Probably cow dust. Alien cow dust.”

Lena blinked, momentarily thrown out of the haze of desire by the absurdity of Kara’s words. “Alien cow dust?”

Kara straightened, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips. “Stampedes are messy,” she said, brushing at the dirt smudged across her chest.

“Well, you’ve officially made me part of the alien cow dust debacle, so now we’re both filthy. And you’re not getting clean without me.” Lena said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Kara raised an eyebrow. “That so?”

“Absolutely.” Lena crossed her arms, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way her cheeks flushed under Kara’s gaze. “You’re not leaving my sight, Danvers. Not after—” She gestured vaguely between them. “That.”

Kara laughed, low and warm, the sound sending shivers down Lena’s spine. “Well, when you put it like that…” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re coming with me, then.”

Before Lena could respond, Kara scooped her up effortlessly, one arm sliding under her knees while the other supported her back.

“Kara!” Lena gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around Kara’s neck. “You’re ridiculous!”

Kara’s grin turned wicked as she carried Lena toward the bathroom, her pace leisurely but her grip secure. “And you love it.”

“I do,” Lena admitted sincerely, her expression softening briefly at her words. A beat passed before the corner of her mouth twitched into something more mischievous. “But if you wake the baby up with all this tomfoolery, Kara, I swear I will be so...frustrated.”

“You and me both,” Kara countered, as she nudged the bathroom door open with her foot.

Kara set Lena down gently, her hands lingering at Lena’s waist.

“So,” she said, her voice husky as she pulled back just enough to meet Lena’s eyes. “Are you going to help me with this suit, or…?”

Lena’s pulse quickened, her fingers already reaching. “Oh, I’m definitely helping."

Kara laughed, her chest vibrating under Lena’s touch, and Lena could feel the smug amusement radiating from her. She’s enjoying this. That realization sent a bolt of determination through Lena, and she redoubled her efforts, fingers sliding along the curve of Kara’s back.

“If I reverse-engineered this entire thing,” Lena muttered under her breath, “I would—”

Her train of thought derailed as Kara grabbed her hand, guiding her fingers to a barely perceptible groove near her shoulder blade. 

Finally, with a triumphant grin, Lena’s fingers latched on to the elusive zipper at Kara’s collarbone. “Got it,” she murmured, dragging it down with deliberate slowness, the sound of the fabric parting almost as satisfying as the sharp intake of breath from Kara.

Kara’s response was immediate. With superspeed, she gripped the hem of Lena’s shirt and yanked it over her head so quickly that Lena barely had time to react. The faint sound of ripping fabric echoed in the bathroom. Kara froze, her face flushing. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Kara,” Lena cut her off, her voice low and breathless, her hands already sliding over the now-exposed skin of Kara’s stomach. “I don’t give a fuck about the shirt. Touch me. Now.”

But Kara hesitated, and Lena realised her gaze was locked firmly on Lena's chest, lingering on the simple white t-shirt bra that suddenly felt like the least sexy thing she could be wearing. She internally cursed herself for not being better prepared for this moment—though, really, who could have anticipated Kara bursting in with all that intensity?

"Can -" 

"God, yes!" Lena blurted out, cutting off Kara before she could even ask the question. 

Kara’s fingers were deft but gentle as she reached around to unclip the bra, her movements careful, almost reverent. When the straps fell loose, Kara paused for a moment, her eyes meeting Lena’s as though asking for unspoken permission.

The moment Lena gave a small nod, Kara’s hands were on her, tracing the curve of her sides before sliding upward, her palms warm against Lena’s bare skin. It was deliberate and slow, every movement a question and an answer all at once. Lena felt a shiver run down her spine, not from cold, but from the sheer intensity of Kara’s touch.

“You’re so…” Kara began, her voice trailing off like she couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, her hands did the talking, cupping Lena gently.

Lena tilted her head back slightly, a soft sound escaping her lips. “Kara…” she managed, her voice breathy. “If you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Kara grinned at that, leaning in to capture Lena’s lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative this time.

Lena reached up, her fingers hooking under the band of Kara’s sports bra. Kara offered no resistance as Lena swiftly pulled it off. Lena let it fall to the floor, taking a step back to catch her breath.

Her eyes roamed over Kara’s body, pausing on the defined muscles of her arms, her toned stomach, and the way her skin glowed faintly in the soft bathroom light. Lena’s mouth went dry. God, she was beautiful—absolutely breath-taking.

Kara smiled shyly, her hands hovering at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them. “You’re staring,” she teased lightly, though her voice held a hint of vulnerability.

“Of course I am,” Lena shot back, her tone playful but sincere. “Have you seen yourself?”

Before Kara could respond, Lena reached out, turning the shower dial. Water sputtered to life, steam beginning to curl up into the air as Lena checked the temperature with her hand. Satisfied, she stepped back and, with minimal fanfare, slid off her shorts and underwear. She tossed them aside and turned back to Kara, who was watching her with wide eyes.

“Your turn,” Lena said, arching an eyebrow as she gestured to Kara’s boots.

Kara hovered off the ground slightly, kicking off her boots in a move that was far less graceful than her usual flying antics. The sight made Lena grin despite herself. Kara fumbled with the rest of her suit, shimmying out of the tight material while still hovering awkwardly mid-air. By the time she managed to free herself, she looked more than a little sheepish.

She floated back to the ground, rubbing the back of her neck with a laugh. “Not my best moment,” she admitted.

They both stared at each other, the air thick with anticipation. The intimacy of being so bare, so exposed, made them hesitate, and Lena let out a soft, nervous giggle. Kara mirrored her, the sound breaking the tension like a bubble popping.

Then, as if pulled by an invisible thread, Lena stepped forward and kissed Kara again, her arms sliding around Kara’s neck. The warmth of their skin against each other was intoxicating, and Lena deepened the kiss, tugging Kara toward the shower.

The water hit them as they stepped inside, hot and cleansing, and Lena couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh as it cascaded over her. Kara pressed her against the cool tile of the wall as their lips met again, this time with a hunger that left no room for awkwardness. 

Kara’s hands roamed Lena’s body, mapping her curves like they were the only thing anchoring her to the earth. Every touch, every brush of Kara's fingers ignited sparks under Lena's skin, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Lena broke the kiss, her lips swollen and her voice husky. “Kara,” she breathed, her hands gripping Kara’s shoulders for balance. “This is…incredible, but I need more. I need... you.”

Kara froze for a split second, then her wide blue eyes darkened with understanding.

Lena's hand curled around Kara’s wrist and guided it down. “We can do foreplay later. Right now, I want you.”

That was all Kara needed. Without hesitation, she pressed two fingers into Lena with a confidence that took Lena’s breath away. Lena cried out, her back arching against the slick tiles, her hands scrambling for purchase on Kara’s shoulders. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and perfect all at once.

Kara stilled for a moment, her forehead pressed against Lena’s, letting her adjust before she began to move. Her other hand gripped Lena’s hip, steadying her, as the rhythm between them built with each passing second. Lena’s moans echoed in the steamy bathroom, her nails digging into Kara’s shoulders.

"Don’t stop,” Lena managed to gasp, her fingers now tangling in Kara’s hair. “Please…don’t stop.”

Thank God for super stamina, because Kara didn’t falter, her steady rhythm a perfect match to Lena’s rising urgency. 

Lena felt the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it was all she could do to hold on. Her entire body trembled, her head falling forward to rest against Kara’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Lena whispered, the words tumbling out as if she couldn’t stop them. “I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Kara stilled for half a second, her breath hitching at the declaration, before she moved faster, her grip on Lena’s hip tightening. “I love you too,” Kara whispered fiercely, her voice breaking. “So much.”

The words pushed Lena over the edge, her entire body arching as she cried out Kara’s name, her voice reverberating in the steamy bathroom. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her trembling in Kara’s arms. 

Kara held her close, steady and unyielding, as she kissed Lena’s temple, her cheek, her lips—anywhere she could reach. 

They stayed like that for a moment, the water running over them as they clung to each other, the world beyond the shower forgotten.

***

Balancing Brilliance: Lena Luthor on Motherhood, Leadership, and Finding Home

By Nia Nal, CatCo Media

Lena Luthor greets me in the warm, sunlit living room of her home. To my surprise, her partner, Kara Danvers, and their young daughter, El, are also present. Kara scoops up El, who is attempting to crawl under the coffee table, and settles her on her lap with practiced ease.

It’s an intimate setting for someone as high-profile as Lena, but that seems to be the point. Today, she’s here to share her story on her own terms, particularly about the balance she’s struck between her role as L-Corp’s CEO and her newfound identity as a mother.

NN: Lena, your return to the public eye has caused quite a stir, especially with the announcement of the on-site daycare project at L-Corp. Can you tell me what inspired the initiative?

LL: Becoming a mother changes the way you see the world. I realized very quickly how difficult it is to juggle parenthood and work. I have the privilege of flexibility, but many of my employees don’t. The daycare is about removing one more obstacle for working parents.

NN: And how has the reception been?

LL: Overwhelmingly positive. We’re already seeing improved morale. When you support your employees, it reflects in their work and their wellbeing. It’s a win-win.

NN: Kara, as a journalist, you have a demanding career too. How do you both manage the balance?

KD: Lena’s the organized one. She has everything color-coded and scheduled. Honestly, I’d be lost without her.

LL: It’s not that dramatic. Kara pulls her weight. Whether it’s dinner, playtime, or bedtime stories, she’s always there.

NN: Speaking of bedtime stories, how has parenthood surprised you both?

LL: It’s the small moments. Watching El discover the world—it’s humbling. And exhausting. 

KD: I think the biggest surprise is how much I’ve learned. El’s milestones are fascinating, and Lena’s always teaching me new things.

NN: Speaking of milestones, there’s been a lot of curiosity about El. How do you handle the public interest?

LL: El is our daughter. That’s all anyone needs to know. Our focus is on giving her the life she deserves. Kara and I were both adopted, so I think we are in a unique positioning of understanding some of what El will experience or feel as she gets older. 

NN: It seems like you two have a strong partnership. What’s the key to that?

LL: Communication. And respect. We’re a team, and we don’t let anything—not even the chaos of our schedules—get in the way of that.

KD: Lena makes everything easier. She’s brilliant, and she keeps me grounded.

As we wrap up the conversation, I can’t help but admire the balance they’ve found. Lena Luthor’s life has always been about reinvention, but this chapter feels particularly personal—a testament to the power of love, resilience, and building a life that truly matters.

**

Kara’s apartment buzzed with the happy chaos of loved ones gathered to celebrate a milestone that felt both monumental and impossibly quick—El’s first birthday. Decorations adorned the walls, pastel streamers and balloons floating above a spread of food that looked like it had been meticulously planned by Lena but executed with Kara’s unrelenting enthusiasm.

Nia arrived with a bright grin, carrying a copy of CatCo’s Weekend Edition. “It’s out!” she announced, waving the magazine in the air like a prized trophy.

The article’s glossy pages held a beautiful photo of Lena and Kara, each holding one of El’s tiny hands as she stood between them, grinning her gummy smile. “It’s perfect,” Alex said, flipping through it. “You two look like a power couple. No, the power couple.”

Lena rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. “Yes, yes, let’s all gather around and admire our magazine debut,” she deadpanned.

Kara sidled up to her, leaning close. “You’re just mad because they captured your soft side,” she teased.

“I don’t have a soft side,” Lena shot back, but her tone lacked any real venom.

Jess, standing nearby with a plate of cupcakes, piped up, “We’ve all seen it, Miss Luthor. Especially when it comes to her.” She nodded toward El, who was toddling around on wobbly legs, dressed in a tiny party dress that made her look both regal and ridiculously adorable.

Lena rolled her eyes, biting back the urge to correct Jess yet again. She had tried, more times than she cared to admit, to get Jess to just call her "Lena." It felt ridiculous, hearing "Miss Luthor" every time they spoke—like she was some uptight schoolteacher or a character in one of those overly dramatic period dramas Kara secretly loved.

But Jess had refused, claiming it would be "too weird" to change now. Lena had even offered to make it a formal workplace directive—half-joking, of course—but Jess had just smiled that infuriatingly polite smile of hers and carried on calling her Miss Luthor. 

“Fine,” Lena said with mock exasperation, catching El mid-wobble and lifting her into her arms. “For her, I’ll allow a little softness.”

Kara excused herself to grab the enormous cake she’d ordered. When she returned, carrying the towering birthday cake with the utmost care, Eliza was following closely behind, guiding her steps like a cautious spotter in a gymnastics routine.

“A little to the left,” Lena directed them from across the room, her arms crossed but her tone sharp with precision. “No, your other left. Watch the—”

“I got it, I got it!” Kara called back, her voice a mix of exasperation and determination.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” Eliza chimed in from behind Kara, her voice laced with both pride and humour.

Finally, Kara set the cake down with a triumphant grin and stepping back to admire her handiwork. The three-tiered masterpiece, with its vibrant rainbow frosting and a tiny figurine of El in a cape perched on top, looked absurdly extravagant for a first birthday party.

Eliza clapped her hands lightly, her eyes twinkling. “That is...impressive.”

Lena arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, stepping closer to inspect it. “It is,” she admitted, before adding dryly, “Though let’s be honest—this cake is clearly more for Kara than it is for El.”

Kara gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock indignation. “That is so not true!”

“Mm-hmm,” Lena hummed, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Tell me, Kara, who exactly requested the cape-wearing topper?”

“Okay, that was for her,” Kara defended, pointing at El, who was currently occupied with attempting to chew on a balloon string.

Eliza chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s adorable. Both the cake and the effort you two are putting into pretending it’s not a little ridiculous.”

“Oh, we know it’s ridiculous,” Lena replied smoothly, shooting Kara a pointed look. “But it’s her first birthday—she deserves it.”

Alex poured herself a generous glass of wine, swirling it theatrically before taking a sip. “Mmm, now this,” she said loudly, holding up the glass as if making a toast, “this is the good stuff. Perks of having a billionaire sister-in-law.”

“I'd serve nothing less than the best at my child’s first birthday party.”

"Do you just keep a secret wine vault somewhere?”

“Why yes, Alex. It’s hidden behind a fingerprint scanner and a retina reader. I call it L-Cork.”

Eliza let out a soft laugh while Maggie, who had joined the conversation with her own glass, chuckled and nudged Alex’s shoulder. “She got you there, babe.”

Undeterred, Alex tilted her head, studying Lena with a playful curiosity. “So, speaking of your billionaire status, why exactly do you live at Kara’s? I mean, don’t get me wrong, her place is nice, but you could probably buy an entire block of brownstones if you wanted to.”

At that, Maggie and Eliza both turned their attention to Lena, clearly interested in her answer.

Lena hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing faintly. “My apartment,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “it’s... sterile. Too polished, too impersonal. It doesn’t feel like home.” She glanced down into her wine glass, then back up at the small group, “Kara’s apartment has this warmth to it. It feels right—for now.”

“And?” Maggie prompted, grinning like she already knew there was more.

“And,” Lena continued with a sigh that was more affection than exasperation, “we’ve been looking at houses. Something with a yard.” She paused, the faint blush deepening. “For El. And Kara wants a dog.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, and she exchanged a glance with Maggie. “A yard, huh? So, you’re really doing this whole family thing."

Eliza set her drink down, her smile almost too innocent to be trusted. “With all this talk about a house and a yard… have you and Kara thought about… expanding the family?”

Lena, who had just taken a sip of wine, nearly choked. “Expanding?” she echoed, stalling as her brain tried to catch up.

Maggie leaned back in her chair, smirking. “Oh, she’s asking about a sibling for El. Don’t worry, Luthor, it’s just casual conversation with all eyes on you.”

Lena shot her a glare but stumbled over her words. “I—we—I mean... Kara and I have talked about it,” she admitted, her voice a little too high-pitched for her liking.

Alex arched a brow, immediately zeroing in. “Oh? So it’s on the table?”

“It’s… something we’ve considered,” Lena said, her hands waving in tiny, flustered circles. “I mean, hypothetically, yes. But there are logistics—serious logistics.”

“Logistics,” Maggie echoed with a snort. “That’s the most Lena Luthor answer I’ve ever heard.”

“No, really!” Lena protested, her cheeks impossibly red now. “If we did, I would carry—obviously.”

“Obviously?” Alex prompted, her grin mischievous.

“Yes, obviously!” Lena snapped, though the blush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Kara can’t exactly be pregnant while flying around as Supergirl. Can you imagine? ‘Breaking news: Supergirl rescues bridge workers while eight months pregnant!’ It’s ridiculous.”

Maggie burst into laughter. “Okay, fair. But…” Her smirk turned wicked. “Can a human even carry a Kryptonian baby safely? I mean, there’s gotta be some risks, right?”

The room went silent for a moment as Lena blinked, clearly thrown. “Well… that’s… something to consider, but Kryptonian DNA only manifests strongly under certain conditions. Without exposure to Earth’s yellow sun during development, it might—hypothetically—be manageable.”

Alex leaned forward, her interest piqued. "And where would you even get Kryptonian donor sperm?"

Lena groaned, her hand flying to her forehead. “I don't know. I’ve thought about it in passing! It’s not like I have a detailed plan, thank you very much.”

“Sure you don’t,” Maggie teased. “You probably have spreadsheets.”

Lena shot her a glare but couldn’t deny it entirely. “The point is,” she said firmly, “it’s not something we’d rush into. It would take time to figure out the safest approach—for everyone. And to be perfectly honest, I think we would both prefer to...adopt.”

Eliza’s warm smile returned, her gaze soft. “Oh, Lena, that's a wonderful idea.”

Lena’s blush deepened, “But we’re just considering things. There’s no… timeline or anything.”

Maggie nudged Alex. “I give them a year.”

Alex smirked. “Six months.”

“Oh, would you two stop?” Lena groaned.

“Whatever happens, Lena,” Eliza said kindly, “You and Kara have done a beautiful job with El. And whatever decision you make, I know it’ll be the right one.”

***

The living room was a riot of balloons, streamers, and laughter as everyone gathered around the oversized cake. Lena, knife in hand, eyed the cake with mock exasperation, the candles flickering under her gaze. Kara stood beside her, holding El in her arms. The baby craned her neck, her wide eyes sparkling as they darted from the cake to the crowd of smiling faces, clearly basking in the attention, even if she didn’t quite understand it.

"Speech! Speech! Speech!" James called out, raising his camera with a grin.

Lena’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “Absolutely not,” she muttered, shaking her head. “This isn’t a gala; it’s a toddler’s birthday party.”

Kara grinned, effortlessly taking the reins. “Alright, I’ll do it,” she said, her voice warm as she looked around the room. “First of all, thank you all for being here today. Not just to celebrate El’s first birthday, but to celebrate something that’s even more important: family. And family isn’t always about blood—it’s about the people who choose to show up, the people who love you no matter what. Looking around this room, it’s clear that’s exactly what we have here. So thank you, all of you, for being part of this messy, wonderful little family of ours.”

The room erupted in applause, and Lena found herself smiling despite the heat in her cheeks. Kara glanced at her with a small wink, and El let out a delighted babble, clapping her tiny hands.

“Alright, enough of that sappy stuff,” Maggie called out, already tipping her glass in the air. “Let’s sing before the kid decides she’s over it!”

And just like that, the room was filled with an enthusiastic (and slightly off-key) rendition of "Happy Birthday." El, oblivious to the meaning but loving the sound and energy, squealed in delight, throwing her arms into the air. Kara bounced her gently, swaying in time with the song.

“Blow them out for her,” Kara whispered, nodding to the candles, her voice barely audible above the chorus.

Lena hesitated, before leaning down and gently extinguishing the flamse.

“Okay, now let’s get a photo of them cutting the cake,” Eliza said, her voice warm with excitement as she gestured for James to ready his camera.

James grinned, raising the camera to his eye. “Alright, let’s see those big smiles!”

Lena tightened her grip on the knife, her nerves prickling under the attention. But before she could overthink it, Kara’s hand slid over hers, steadying her. Together, they pressed down, the knife slicing cleanly through the frosting and into the layers of cake beneath.

“Look at that teamwork,” Maggie quipped from the sidelines, “Domestic bliss in action.”

Lena rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smirk. “Alright, now you’ve seen us cut the cake. Let’s not turn this into a Hallmark movie.”

But just as she straightened, Kara leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Lena’s in a kiss so quick and natural it felt like instinct.

The room fell silent for a moment, the air thick with surprise, before erupting into a mix of cheers, whistles, and laughter.

“Finally!” Alex called.

“About damn time!” Maggie added, mock-toasting with a grin.

Lena blinked, startled, her cheeks blooming with heat as she pulled back slightly, her eyes darting to the crowd of amused faces. She shooed, the group with a flustered wave. “Moving on now. The show’s over.”

Kara, seemingly realizing what she’d just done, turned a vivid shade of pink but didn’t move away. She still had El balanced on her hip, completely oblivious to the commotion.

“Should we get a do-over for the photos?” James teased, snapping another candid shot of the moment.

Lena pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, for the love of—James!”

But despite her protests, she couldn’t stop the small smile creeping across her lips as Kara’s fingers found hers, giving her hand a gentle, grounding squeeze. It was enough to settle the whirlwind inside her, even as the room buzzed with playful jeers and laughter.

***

The living room was quieter now, the din of laughter and chatter replaced by the gentle hum of the ceiling fan. Wrapping paper and bows littered the floor, the aftermath of a successful birthday bash. Kara was stretched out on the couch, her head resting comfortably in Lena’s lap. Lena’s fingers absently played with Kara’s hair, earning soft, contented sighs from the other woman. El was tucked against Kara’s chest, fast asleep, her tiny fist clutching a corner of Kara’s shirt.

Lena picked up a stack of birthday cards from the coffee table, flipping through them. “Alright, let’s see what the fine people of National City and beyond have to say to our one-year-old.”

Kara peeked up at her, smirking. “Anything good?”

Lena pulled out a card adorned with glitter and a cartoon alien. “This one’s from the moms’ group. ‘Dear El, we hope your birthday is out of this world!’”

Kara chuckled, her voice low and relaxed. “Classic. And ironic, considering.”

Lena continued flipping through the cards, pausing when she came across one with a sleek, minimalist design—black and white, with bold block letters.

“Uh-oh,” Lena said, raising an eyebrow as she opened it.

Kara tilted her head. “Who’s it from?”

“Cat,” Lena said simply, before clearing her throat to read aloud. “‘To the Luthor-Kryptonian Wonder Baby—may you grow up with the wit to outsmart your enemies and the resilience to endure your parents’ endless codling. If you ever need life advice, call your Auntie Cat. Just don’t tell your moms. Best wishes, Cat Grant.’”

Kara burst out laughing, her shoulders shaking so much she nearly woke El. “Auntie Cat? Oh, that’s hilarious.”

Lena snorted, unable to keep a straight face. “She really can’t help herself, can she?”

“Nope,” Kara replied, her laughter softening to a chuckle. “But hey, at least she’s on our side.”

Lena set the remaining cards on the table with a soft sigh, her hand instinctively returning to Kara’s hair, her fingers threading through the golden strands. Kara hummed contentedly, her eyes half-closed as she cuddled El closer.

“So, your mother,” Lena began, her tone light but carrying the weight of someone gearing up to drop a small bombshell.

Kara cracked an eye open, a knowing smirk already playing on her lips. “What did she do now?”

Lena tilted her head, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh, nothing much—just spent a good chunk of the party not-so-subtly pushing for more grandchildren.”

Kara’s eyes widened slightly. “And what did you say to her?” 

“I told her we’d talked about it. That it’s not off the table. But…” She trailed off, her voice faltering.

“But?” Kara prompted gently.

There was a pause, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then Lena took a deep breath, her blush deepening as she glanced down at her lap. “It’s just—sometimes, when I look at you,” she said softly, almost to herself, “I know… I want to have another baby with you. It’s like everything in me is screaming for it, and it feels so—”

“Natural?” Kara supplied gently, her own cheeks turning pink as her smile softened into something deeply affectionate.

“Cringe-worthy,” Lena corrected with a groan, burying her face in her hands. “God, I never thought I’d be one of those people.”

“Hey,” Kara murmured. She reached up, gently pulling Lena’s hands away from her face. “You’re not cringe-worthy. You’re… incredible.”

Lena gave her a sceptical look, though her lips quirked in a faint smile. “You’re biased.”

“Obviously,” Kara said, her grin widening. “But I also happen to think it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

Lena’s blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away when Kara leaned up to kiss her softly, lingering just long enough to make her point.

“Lena Luthor,” Kara said, her voice teasing yet earnest, “if wanting to have another baby with me makes you cringe, then I’ll happily live with the embarrassment.”

Lena laughed despite herself, the sound light and full of affection. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me,” Kara shot back cheekily.

Lena’s smile softened, her voice barely audible as she murmured, “Yeah, I do. I love you, Kara.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Kara leaned back into Lena’s lap with a contented sigh. Lena's hand resumed its soft, soothing motions through Kara’s hair as the night settled around them. 

THE END

Chapter Text

EPILOGUE

A YEAR LATER

The last twelve months had been a whirlwind. Returning to her full-time role as L-Corp’s CEO had been smoother than Lena expected, largely thanks to the on-site crèche she and Kara had tirelessly championed. It had become a lifeline for countless parents, cementing Lena’s reputation as a progressive leader. El had adapted instantly, charming the staff with her toothy smiles and enthusiastic babbling, earning her the unofficial title of "Queen of the Crèche."

El was two now. Two! Lena could hardly believe it. Her once tiny, squishy baby had blossomed into a vivacious toddler with a personality bigger than her little frame. She loved singing nonsensical songs, pointing out every dog they passed, and carrying her plastic tea set from room to room, declaring, “Tea time!” to anyone who’d listen. She was also a climber—onto the couch, the coffee table, even the low-hanging branches in the backyard. Her vocabulary expanded daily, a mix of delightful surprises and words Lena wished she hadn’t repeated.

And El adored their new home. Purchased six months earlier, it was everything Lena had envisioned. A freestanding brick house nestled on a quiet street that offered suburban calm without sacrificing city convenience. The house had warm wooden floors, bay windows that filled the rooms with morning light, and a quaint ivy-draped porch Kara had insisted needed seasonal fairy lights. The kitchen, Lena’s favourite space, was a mix of rustic and modern—its butcher block countertops and mismatched vintage tiles exuded charm. Every corner of the house bore traces of their lives: toys scattered by the fireplace, Kara’s superhero-related paperwork cluttering the dining table, and the soothing scent of lavender from Kara’s diffuser.

Lena’s eyes wandered to the faint scuff marks on the living room floor—remnants of one of Kara’s super mishaps. A smile tugged at her lips, though the memory of that particular day still stung.

**

It was just days after they’d moved in—also the day of El’s first parent-child class at the crèche. Lena had been excited, maybe even a little nervous. She’d carefully selected El’s outfit, arrived early, and positioned herself perfectly for the best photos. But Kara hadn’t shown up. Not a call, not a message—just an empty spot where she should’ve been.

Later, Kara stumbled through the front door, her Supergirl suit streaked with dirt and ash, exhaustion etched across her face. She tripped, her boot scuffing the polished floor.

“I’ll fix it,” she said immediately, her tone apologetic.

“It’s not about the floor,” Lena snapped, sharper than she’d intended.

Kara frowned, clearly still catching her breath. “I’m sorry I missed El’s thing, but I had Supergirl—”

“If you say ‘Supergirl things,’ I swear—” Lena’s voice cracked, and she threw up her hands. “I had to find out on the news that you were going into space, Kara. Space! Do you have any idea how that felt? Sitting at baby day care, trying to smile while the whole world speculated whether or not you’d survive?”

Kara winced, guilt flashing across her face. “Lena, I—”

“No.” Lena cut her off, jabbing a finger toward her. “I sat there, pretending everything was fine while the anchor practically eulogized you. You didn’t even call me. I had to imagine—” Her voice wavered, and she pressed a hand to her forehead, willing herself not to break.

Kara took a step closer, her hands raised as though to placate her. “I didn’t want you to worry—”

“Worry?” Lena barked out a humorless laugh, tears pricking her eyes. “I worry every time you leave this house, Kara. That’s the price of loving you. But not telling me? That’s not protecting me—that’s shutting me out.”

Kara’s shoulders sagged, her usually bright eyes dimmed with regret. “I thought...if you didn’t know, it would be easier for you.”

Lena shook her head, her throat tight with a mix of anger and something else she couldn’t name. “I don’t want easy. I want to be your partner. That means the good, the bad, and the terrifying. I won't hold you back but I need to know.”

Kara nodded, the weight of her mistake sinking in. “I’ll do better,” she said quietly, her voice resolute. “I promise.”

“You’d better,” Lena muttered, her eyes darting to the scuff mark on the floor. Her voice softened as she added, “Because I can’t go through that again, Kara. Not like that.”

And Kara had kept her promise. In every way that mattered.

The scuff mark remained, though, a faint reminder of the lessons they’d learned. Lena didn’t want it gone—it felt like a part of their story, imperfect and real, just like the life they were building.

Their house had four bedrooms, an essential feature when they were searching because they’d always planned to expand their family. What they hadn’t anticipated was how soon—or how dramatically—that expansion would come.

A couple of weeks after moving in, late one evening, Kara had burst through the front door, cradling a baby in her arms. Lena had been halfway through an L-Corp report, when the sight stopped her cold. The baby, no more than a few weeks old physically, was wrapped in a makeshift blanket, tiny face scrunched in confusion and exhaustion.

Kara had looked uncharacteristically unsure. “I—uh,” she started, her voice faltering. “There was a crash site, space debris, and…well, him.” She adjusted her hold on the baby. “He’s Daxamite, Lena. From what I can tell, he’s…like me. Trapped in some kind of time loop. Preserved during his planet’s destruction.”

Lena hadn’t hesitated. She rose from her seat, gently taking the baby from Kara’s arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was impossibly small, his tiny fingers curling instinctively around hers. “What’s his name?” she asked softly.

“He doesn’t have one. Not that I can tell.”

They’d spent the rest of the night on the couch, the baby nestled securely in Lena’s arms. Together, they threw out names until one finally felt right. Jeremiah. It was Lena's suggestion, a nod to Kara's adoptive father, a man who had shaped her into the selfless, compassionate woman Lena adored.

The DEO handled the logistics, creating paperwork and an identity to protect his origins. To the world, Jeremiah was a foster baby adopted into a loving family. But within their home, he was a symbol of resilience, hope, and their unwavering commitment to creating a safe, loving space for those who needed it most.

Now, at seven months old, Jeremiah was nestled in a baby swing, contentedly watching the room with wide, curious eyes. El was perched beside him, diligently poking and prodding at his tiny hands and feet, clearly taking her big-sister duties very seriously. Jeremiah tolerated her antics with surprising patience, occasionally letting out a soft coo that made Lena’s heart swell.

Kara entered the room, her arms full of helium balloons, her expression as bright as the decorations she carried. “Where do you want these?” she asked.

Lena looked up from arranging a tray of snacks on the counter and gestured toward the dining table. “Tie them to the chairs, maybe? Just make sure El doesn’t commandeer one as a weapon.”

“Noted,” Kara said with a grin, crossing the room to follow Lena’s instructions.

They were setting up for El’s second birthday party, a celebration that seemed to grow larger by the day. Everyone was coming: Lois and Clark, Eliza, Alex, Maggie, and all their super friends. Lena had lost count of how many cupcakes Alex had insisted on bringing, declaring them a necessity for any proper kids’ party.

Martha and Jonathan were coming also - they had become a regular presence in their lives, visiting often. The last time had been for Kara and Lena’s wedding—a small, private ceremony just a few weeks earlier.

Lena’s thoughts drifted to the moment Kara had completely thrown her off with the proposal.

**

The bathroom was warm and humid, filled with the sound of El’s delighted squeals as she splashed happily in the water. Lena sat cross-legged on the floor, her worn sweats damp from an earlier enthusiastic wave of bathwater. 

“You’re such a menace,” Lena said playfully, wiping a stray splash off her arm. She leaned forward to nudge a rubber duck closer to El, who giggled and clapped her tiny hands, her joy infectious.

From behind, Kara entered quietly, having just soothed a teething Jeremiah to sleep. She settled down beside Lena, mirroring her cross-legged position on the tiled floor. Propping her chin on her hand, she gazed at the cheerful chaos unfolding in front of her.

“How’s bath duty going?” Kara asked, her voice soft and laced with amusement as her lips curved into a tired but affectionate smile.

“Oh, you know,” Lena replied with mock exasperation, “she’s only managed to soak me three times. A personal best.”

They exchanged a glance, warm and easy, before Lena turned back to El. “You know, Miss El, your mum had to deal with the most insufferable man today,” Lena began, her voice lilting with mock indignation. “Mr. Alderman—the VP of Marketing. I’m starting to think he wouldn’t know innovation if it smacked him in the face.”

“What did he do this time?” Kara asked, her tone indulgent, as if Lena’s workday complaints were her favorite form of storytelling.

“He suggested cutting funding for the clean energy initiative,” Lena said, scooping up a bubble and blowing it toward El, who tried to catch it with wide, curious eyes. “To focus on—and I quote—‘more lucrative ventures.’” She let out a theatrical groan. “Honestly, the man is an embarrassment to his title.”

Kara chuckled, her laugh low and warm. “Did you let him have it?”

“Of course I did,” Lena replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “In the nicest, most professional way possible.”

Kara nudged her shoulder lightly. “Don’t let her fool you, El. Your Mom probably sent him scurrying back to his office like a scolded puppy.”

Lena grinned, “Of course I did. Someone has to keep the company afloat.”

El rewarded her mother’s efforts with an enthusiastic splash that sent water flying onto Lena’s face. Kara burst out laughing as Lena wiped her face with a damp sleeve. “Really, El? That’s the thanks I get?”

“She’s clearly siding with Alderman,” Kara teased, brushing a stray bubble from El’s cheek. “Betrayed by your own daughter. Tragic.”

“She’s already outsmarting us,” Lena said with a mock sigh. “Next, she’ll be using her powers to direct splash patterns.”

“Don’t give her ideas.”

For a moment, silence settled between them, warm and companionable. Lena leaned back against the cabinet, letting her head rest as the day’s exhaustion pulled at her. She was about to make another quip about El’s penchant for chaos when Kara’s voice, soft and steady, interrupted her thoughts.

“Marry me.”

The words hung in the air, so casual yet so profound, that it took Lena a moment to process them. She turned to Kara, blinking in disbelief. “What?”

Kara turned her head to meet Lena’s gaze, her expression calm yet brimming with sincerity. “Marry me,” she repeated, her voice steady and unwavering.

Before Lena could form a response, Kara disappeared in a blur of motion. El laughed, clapping her wet hands, used to her mama’s super antics. In less than a second, Kara was back, kneeling beside Lena with a small box in her hand. Her usually steady fingers trembled slightly as she opened it, revealing a simple, elegant ring—something so unmistakably Lena.

“I want you to marry me,” Kara said, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “Not because of El, or Jeremiah, or anything practical. Just because I love you, and I want this. I want us. Forever.”

Lena’s breath hitched, her heart racing as she glanced between Kara and the ring. It was absurd, she was soaking wet from bathwater, dressed in old sweats, with bubbles clinging to her arms. But wasn’t that what made them, them? Messy, unpolished, full of love and laughter?

“You’re serious,” Lena said finally.

Kara smiled, “Always.”

Lena exhaled a shaky laugh, nodding. “You couldn’t wait until I wasn’t covered in bathwater?”

Kara’s grin widened, her voice soft but teasing. “Would it matter? You’re perfect right now.”

With a laugh, Lena leaned forward, her forehead brushing Kara’s as she whispered, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Kara’s smile lit up the room, and before Lena could say another word, El shrieked with delight, splashing water everywhere as if sensing the moment. Kara scooped her out of the tub, bubbles trailing from her tiny curls, while her other hand slid the ring onto Lena’s finger.

Kara had officially become El’s other mother on the same day she had become Lena’s wife. The memory was vivid in Lena’s mind: Kara, signing the papers with tears in her eyes, her hand trembling slightly as Jeremiah, who was already legally theirs thanks to the DEO’s seamless handling of paperwork, nodded off in Lena’s lap. El twirled nearby, spinning like a princess in her favourite dress - she had been thoroughly unimpressed by the significance of the day, more focused on her swirling skirt than the life-changing moment unfolding around her.

It was simple, understated, yet monumental—the moment their family became legally whole.

Shortly afterward, Kara and Lena had exchanged vows in a small, intimate ceremony with only their closest friends and family. There was no pomp, no fanfare—just two women who loved each other deeply, standing side by side, promising forever. J'onn had officiated, struggling to keep his composure as he spoke, while El had sat in Alex's arms, whispering "More food?" loudly enough to draw laughter from the group. Jeremiah had snoozed peacefully in Eliza’s lap from start to finish.

It had been perfect—not because of the setting or the simplicity of it all, but because it was them. Just them and their family.

**

Lena stood in the middle of their living room, her eyes sweeping over the party setup. 

“You’re quiet,” Kara said softly, stepping closer and brushing her shoulder against Lena’s. "You ok?"

Lena turned, smiling as she took Kara’s hand, their fingers instinctively tangling together. “Better than okay. Just… reminiscing about how far we’ve come.” 

Kara tilted her head, her expression gentle yet searching. “You happy?” 

“More than I ever thought I could be."

Kara leaned in, brushing her lips against Lena’s in a slow, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or fiery—it was steady, like a promise of everything they had built and everything they were still building.

When they broke apart, Lena rested her forehead against Kara’s for a moment, savouring the quiet before the inevitable chaos of the party. “This,” she murmured, “is everything.”

Kara’s arms slipped around her waist, holding her close. “And it’s only the beginning,” she whispered, her tone soft but filled with certainty.

Lena smiled, her fingers brushing Kara’s cheek. The party would begin soon, but in this moment—surrounded by balloons, streamers, and the promise of more laughter—Lena felt a deep, abiding sense of gratitude. This was her life. Her family. And it was everything she’d ever dreamed of and more.