Chapter Text
Lena should’ve been cut off four drinks ago. But a raucous Phorian bachelor party had distracted M’gann and the bar staff all evening, and the raven-haired CEO had been able to acquire drink after drink (after drink) without any issue. She’s really quite proud of herself. But more importantly, she’s drunk. Maybe the drunkest she’s been in years. Well, in public, at least.
But hey, she deserves it. Lena can’t remember why, but she knows that she does. Lena smiles to herself at the realization. She actually forgot what she came here to drink to forget. Ha! Her fist flies in the air triumphantly.
“Next round on me!” Lena yells.
The dive bar cheers, and she feels a wry sense of pride at being the cause of that reaction. Pride and… something else. Something she can’t put her finger on. Maybe she could if she wasn’t 8 drinks deep.
A big hand claps her on the back, and she slumps forward gracelessly against the bar top. When she turns to look at the offender, he’s wearing a face-splitting grin.
“Cheers, lady!” says the hulking man. He raises his bottle enthusiastically.
She smiles right back, grateful it’s not another Luthor despiser. “You’re welcome, Man!”
They clink glasses, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the lip, not that either notices.
“LENA!” M’gann shouts ahead of her like a schoolteacher. With a scowl, she approaches from the other end of the bar, towel draped over her shoulder, hair no longer pristine from a shift of non-stop pink cocktails, and a flustered flush to her cheeks.
“Uh-oh,” Lena slinks. She forgot she was meant to be keeping a low profile. She looks down at her glass, schooling her features into an innocent look.
“I know you hear me!” M’gann shouts as she approaches her. “You can’t hide from me!”
Lena looks more closely at the amber liquid, thinks about how much easier life would be if she could become one with it. Dissolve.
“Hey! I’m talking to you, Miss Next Round On Me!” the bar owner shouts.
Lena can’t stop the corners of her mouth from tilting up in a smile. Like a cheeky kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her smile falters, remembering the one time she tried that in the Luthor household. Lillian did not- No. Stop. Lena shakes her head, remembering the more pressing matter: the angry martian before her. Her smirk returns.
“Don’t you smile! You tricked me! What number is that?” M’gann accuses.
“This? It’s not… It's his.” She points to (and pokes) her new friend. He immediately nods, lifts the glass, and downs it, all in support of her farce.
“Hey!” Lena frowns. She wanted that. At least he looks apologetic.
“You know, you’re not getting another one," M’gann says.
“Come on! I’m barely drunk.” This would have been more believable if she hadn’t actually said “I’m dearly brunk," hiccuped, and then almost slipped off her stool from the fright.
M’gann scoffs, “I’ve already called your assistant.”
Lena scowls. “You cop!” She pops the "p" and pouts.
M’gann sighs. “The Superfriends left hours ago. Why are you still here, Lena?”
Lena grins, “I forgot.”
She laughs and laughs.
Lena wakes up with a piteous groan. Her brain feels as though it’s been cleaved in two. She imagines holding the pieces together, wrapping around a roll of duct tape and shoving it back in her skull. When it doesn’t fit anymore, she just says “Fuck it” and punts it off the balcony. New brainless Lena never gets hungover, AND she lost three pounds. Ha!
She opens her eyes. The sun pours through a slit in the curtain, illuminating the sorry state of her room: a crumpled dress on the floor, her own make-up-smeared face, and a patch of drool on the pillowcase. Lena doesn’t remember getting home at all, but there’s a note by her bed next to a glass of water and some aspirin. “Jess, you beautiful, beautiful girl”. She drains the glass and pills. Having now regained her ability to read, her eyes drift to the note.
“I’ve earned a sleep-in and so have you. If I find you’ve come in to work before 10 am, I’m going to post Beyoncé slander from your Twitter account, change the password and leave you at the mercy of the Beyhive.”
She groans. Ugh, why do I do this to myself?
But she’s sober now. She knows exactly why. She groans again.
YESTERDAY EVENING
The gang is at their usual bar after a particularly annoying mission. A moody alien of unknown origin had been terrorizing the city for weeks, its strange mist-like form making it particularly elusive.
The DEO’s resident aliens J’onn, Kara, Mon-El and even Brainy couldn’t recognize it on sight with all their combined off-world experience, and even the data crystals from the Fortress failed to provide any pertinent information. So naturally, Nia designated it the name Cloudy Girl and offered to document its qualities and attributes. For science. Lena reviewed the “science”. It was a collection of cartoon renditions, musings on what its favorite foods might be (which made no sense to Lena as it doesn’t seem to have a substantial form that requires solid sustenance), and simple descriptive terms like cute, gorgeous, fluffy and slay.
This should’ve been a simple capture. Except Kara now found it hard to go toe-to-toe with such an adorably named creature, and thus it kept slipping through her fingers. Sometimes literally. And while Kara promised Alex that it was simply an especially elusive cutie (she meant creature), the team couldn’t unhear her cooing through the comms. “Come on, my Cloudy Girl, come on, my love.” Usually right before it disappeared completely, leaving broken infrastructure and noxious gas in its wake.
No archival information and evasive behaviors meant a long week of the agents gathering data in the field (actual useful data) and Lena using it to produce a specialized counter weapon. It wasn’t difficult so much as arduous, but after many long nights, Lena presented Kara with the Nubilus. Cloudy Girl was contained within the hour. The team was tired but pleased. And now here they all were in their favorite booth, enjoying a well-earned drink.
Lena, unable to shake her Luthor upbringing, was up at the bar, making sure to get the first round. She watches as Alex holds court with the table, Sam smiling ruefully at her partner’s antics and J’onn cutting in to make sure the story isn’t veering too far from the truth. Brainy and Nia, of course, knew to take her tales with a grain of salt, but it didn’t stop them from laughing out loud at her more unbelievable embellishments. Lena notices all this, but she sees Kara most of all, grinning at her sister, looking at her with love and awe and a little embarrassment at the parts of the story that center on her. Lena pulls her eyes away as she feels a presence beside her. Mon-El has joined her.
“Kara wanted a drink after all,” he says simply.
“Right, no problem.” She makes no move to alert the bartender.
He looks at her. Narrows his eyes. “You already ordered it,” he accuses.
She shrugs, “I knew she’d change her mind.”
“You knew…” He shakes his head incredulously.
She tilts her head curiously. Mon-El looks back at the table, Kara now picking up the story, talking with her hands in that endearing, rambly way they love. They look at each other, then, awash in the awkward understanding before them. They both love Kara. No, they’re both in love with Kara. Lena thinks she should be embarrassed. But mostly she’s just so very tired.
“You know she’ll never feel the same way about you,” Mon-El says.
Lena reluctantly meets his eyes. He’s trying to hurt her. She could laugh. As if he could. She’s a Luthor. She stopped giving people the power to hurt her when she hit puberty. She reserves that right for blood relatives only.
“Never. You have to know that?” He says it incredulously, like it’s a mercy, like she’s a bright-eyed gambler backing a lame horse and expecting it to win. He wants to shake her, stop her from betting her life away.
She smiles. “I’m the smartest person in every room I enter”, she says. “I have three PhDs, and I run a billion-dollar company. I’m not a figurehead either; I manage the day-to-day operations. It sucks.” She continues, “I’ve invented trans-matter portal technology so we can traverse space in seconds. I just invented a snare to capture Cloudy Girl, a member of a wholly new alien species on this Earth.” Damn, Kara was right, Cloudy Girl is too adorable a name.
He opens his mouth to interrupt, to tell her that none of those things make her worthy of Kara’s love. To point out everything she’s left out. Her namesake. Her past. But she simply raises her hand.
“Of course, I know, Mon-El. I’m not in the habit of ignorance. I never have been. So why would I start now?”
They both go back to watching Kara in her element.
Mon-El hadn’t expected her to back off. “Well, good. As long as you know”, he finishes lamely.
The bartender lays down the drinks, and she takes a quick shot, grateful to 5-minute-ago Lena for ordering it.
She turns to face him, suddenly serious: “I also know that if you hurt her, I’ve got a nice lead bullet with your name on it.”
He gulps.
She looks away. “You don’t deserve her”, she says softly.
“Neither do you.” He shrugs.
She laughs aloud at that, to his surprise. She lifts her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
She watches Mon-El trudge off to Kara, handing her her drink with a chaste kiss on the lips. The smile she gives him is blinding.
Lena searches it for any trace of deception, a small hint of dissatisfaction. Then she reprimands herself for being disappointed when there is none. It’s pure, radiant and not for her.
If anyone deserves happiness, it’s sweet Kara Zor-El. Lena will die before she stands in the way of that.
Lena pastes on a smile and joins the rest of the gang. Their faces light up, too. There’s nothing quite like being the bearer of strong drinks.
PRESENT DAY
Kara steps onto the floor to see Jess already hard at work behind the reception desk. “Hi Jess, Lena in?”
Jess nods and smiles at Kara; she feels a kinship with this woman who cares for Lena’s wellbeing just as much, if not more, than she does.
She spies the drinks in Kara’s hands. “Is that coffee?”
Kara nods, handing one to Jess. “And pastries.” She holds up a bag. Jess sips her beverage and swipes a croissant, grateful to the perky blonde.
“Great, she needs it. Head on in.”
Kara tilts her head curiously before continuing to Lena’s office.
Lena lifts her head off the desk at Kara’s entry. Her eyes zero in on the bag in her hands. “Is that-”
Kara chuckles. “Yes”
Lena perks up. “Gimme gimme.”
Kara laughs and hands it over to her eager friend. Then she looks closer. Bloodshot eyes, sallow skin, a slight tremor. “Hey, are you ok?”
“Better now.” She gulps down the coffee. Lena could cry tears of joy.
“Did you stick around at the bar? Sorry, I didn’t come back. We got caught up with the explosion on Fifth. And then some idiot tried to jack a car not ten feet away from me. Thank Rao, Mon-El was there, he offered to take care of it so I could go home and wash the soot out of my hair. I don’t think I could’ve handled it. I was so tired. He’s sweet, right?”
Lena’s smile falters, just a little, hiding behind another mouthful of pastry. She remembers they hadn’t needed her last night; it was just a bog-standard explosion, not malicious, not alien, just a gas leak plus open flame. It required only the services of the Super. Alex and Sam left to relieve Ruby’s babysitter, and the others rushed in to save the day. And suddenly Lena was alone at the bar.
Lena snaps out of it. “Um, I think I can still see some soot.”
“Really?” Kara self-consciously touches her face.
Lena laughs. She stands and walks over, bringing a napkin to a spot on her ear. Kara stills as Lena gently wipes away the smudge.
Lena smiles. “That’s better.”
Kara smiles too. “Thanks.” It comes out as a whisper.
Lena is struck by the smell of Kara’s shampoo and the faint smokiness lingering from the explosion. She drops her hand and takes a step back.
Kara smiles softly. “Hey, are we still on for tonight?”
Lena snaps out of it. She turns away, back to the safety of behind her desk. “Sorry, I’ve been a bit slow today. And Cloudy Girl really set me back. I have a proposal that needed completing yesterday.”
Kara frowns. “Aren’t you the boss? Why do you need to propose? Just approve it. Easy.”
Lena chuckles. “Without any oversight? Are you suggesting I treat this company like a dictatorship?” Her eyes narrow. “Are you sure you’re not a Luthor?”
Kara grimaces. She hates when Lena self-deprecates like this.
Lena softens. She should know better, but hungover Lena resorts to lazy habits. “Raincheck? How about next week?”
“Uh, sure,” Kara nods. That’s weird. It’s only Tuesday; Kara feels like she’s being fobbed off, and she doesn’t know why.
Lena sighs theatrically, “I'd better get back to it.”
And now she’s being shooed out after only 5 minutes. Kara recovers and pinches the fingers of her hand and shakes it in the air. “Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.” Wow, her Brando impression needs work. Lena can’t help the girlish giggle that escapes her. She can’t believe this is what does it for her. Kara beams as she leaves.
The door clicks shut, and Lena sinks into her chair. She doesn’t know why she cancelled tonight. She hadn’t planned on it until that very moment. But suddenly, the thought of being alone with Kara was too much. She’s just feeling a little raw. Maybe it’s the hangover, or maybe it’s the natural next step in their friendship. How long can you pine for someone before it starts to weigh on you? She’s just so heartsore. She needs some good old-fashioned Luthor reconditioning. Ironically, Lex would know what to do.
When she had been at university, and Posey Alder had laughed at her bashfully posed “Will you be my girlfriend?” (and subsequently called their night together a drunken mistake), Lena had called Lex in tears. Within hours, she was on a jet to Ibiza. He even indulged her poolside sulking and spontaneous poetry readings for the first few days before eventually forcing her out to the local nightclubs. They danced and drank, and he came very close (too close) to convincing her to get matching tramp stamps with him. She still can’t hear Diplo without breaking out into a cold sweat about what could’ve so very nearly been.
But she’s not 19 anymore. Lex is in prison, and she has responsibilities. She’ll have to suck it up. Step 1 is to survive this hangover.
She groans.
Lena’s in the DEO lab, toiling away at a project. The smoking soldering iron fills the air with the smell of acrid metal.
“Hey.” Kara is behind her.
Lena jumps, almost dropping the soldering iron, “Jesus, Kara!”
Kara sheepishly replies, “Sorry!”
Lena wrestles her heart rate under control. “Warn a girl when she’s holding hot metal, will you?”
Kara nods. “I forget how fragile you guys are sometimes.” That’s a lie, and Lena knows it. Kara agonizes over her strength as if she’s afraid of herself most of all. But that’s not easy-going. That’s not happy-go-lucky. That’s not sunny and carefree. And those are the traits that Kara has clung to in carving out her Earth identity. Kara had thought this farce was over when she was with Lena, but they’re back at it: scripted banter, surface-level conversation. Lena understands taking the easy way out. Hell, she’s playing along.
Lena huffs. “Please try to remember.”
Kara is sufficiently chastened. Lena turns back to her work.
They’ve been doing this recently. Struggling to be. Lena has thrown herself into work, and Kara has been trying to figure out what’s changed.
Kara fidgets. She’s nervous. “Hey, are you avoiding me?”
Lena faces her. Struck dumb by the forthright question. That’s not in the script. “Huh?” she mutters dumbly. She can hear Lillian on her shoulder, “Close your mouth, imbecile.”
Kara hasn’t looked up yet. “It’s just- we haven’t hung out in a while.”
Lena clears her throat. “Cloudy Girl had us all over the city. We were pretty busy.”
Kara finally meets Lena’s eyes. “That was two weeks ago now.”
Lena smirks. “Miss me, Supergirl?”
Kara nods. “Yes.”
God, Lena feels like a bitch. She doesn’t know what to say. I mean, she misses her too, of course she does. But she misses her even when they’re together. And how is she supposed to tell Kara that?
Kara kicks at the ground. "Movie night tomorrow? Mon-El says he needs a boys’ night."
Lena looks away. “I- can’t.”
Kara’s head snaps up. Her eyes filled with hurt. “I thought we were better.”
Lena stops herself from reaching for her. “We are better.”
And they are. It had been a long road to get to where they are now, but Lena understood the reasons for Kara’s deception, and Kara understood Lena’s response. They had put in the work, and they had forgiven each other. They’d come out the other side, battered, bruised, but alive. When they told Alex they had been to couples counseling, she’d called them both idiots and stormed off, Sam having to apologize for her girlfriend’s behavior. But Kara and Lena hardly noticed; they were back to being best friends. Stronger together. El Mayarah.
Kara shakes her head. “Then what’s going on?”
Lena sighs. “Nothing. I’m just busy”
Kara looks up. Her eyes afire. “You’re always busy. I’m always busy. It’s our thing. It’s never stopped us before.” What aren’t you telling me?
Lena deflects. “Not all of us are powered by the sun, Supergirl.”
Kara frowns. “I know.” She adds. “I just miss you.”
“I’m right here.” And it’s not fair to say that. Lena knows it’s not. But it’s the best she can do.
Kara freezes. “Right. Of course.” She looks like a kicked puppy. “See you later, Lena.”
Kara leaves. Lena feels like an absolute asshole. She pulls her goggles down and gets back to soldering.
She hears footsteps not a minute later.
Without turning, she says, frustratedly, “Look, Kara, I’m too tired for this.”
“Not Kara,” Alex gruffs.
“Oh, hey, Alex,” Lena softens.
Alex leans against the table. “So why are you snapping at my sister?”
Lena rolls her eyes. “Well, technically, I snapped at you.”
Alex levels with Lena, “Ok, Luthor. Why are you being an asshole?”
Lena's eyes flicker with anger before she looks at Alex’s and sees only good-natured mirth in her countenance. “Oh, you know, it’s a Wednesday,” she offers airily.
Alex laughs. “It’s Friday.”
Lena is shocked. “Really?”
Alex knows deflection when she hears it. She looks at the table, strewn with tools. “And why are you working on the comms devices? They already have a sufficient range.”
Lena scoffs. “Since when have I settled for sufficient?”
Now it’s Alex’s turn to roll her eyes. “Go home. Have a hot meal. Sleep.”
Lena lifts off her safety goggles. “Yes, Mom.”
Alex pushes off the table. “Do not compare me to Lillian, thanks.”
Lena chuckles. “Oh, she was never so maternal; I was channeling Mrs. Svetlana”
Alex smiles. “The nanny? I suppose that’s an improvement.”
Lena nods. “Da, pozhaluysta.”
Alex places a gentle hand on Lena’s shoulder. “Fuck off, Luthor”
Lena laughs out loud.
Lena crawls into bed at 2 AM, her mind still loudly reeling. She thinks back to Mon-El’s words that night at the bar. “ You don’t deserve her.” Well, no, they were her words, weren’t they?
Suddenly, she feels sorry for Kara most of all. Two lackluster suitors.
A superpowered man-child and god, how to even sum herself up? Emotionally stunted, genetically cursed, famously and publicly hated, chronically overworked, and clinically depressed. Oh, and don’t forget all the personality traits befitting an unloved, rich kid shipped off to boarding school for her formative years: cold, mean, sarcastic, detached and entitled. She’s not fit for anyone, let alone the Girl of Steel.
She sighs. Poor Kara. Maybe Mon-El isn’t that bad. He handled a carjacking for her. Lena couldn’t do that. Well, it’s a rather unique proposition; she’s sure she could give it a go. But all the Pilates, yoga and instruction from a former Mossad agent couldn’t give her an advantage over Mon-El in that aspect. Even she has to begrudgingly admit that.
She opens her eyes suddenly. If it’s gonna be Mon-El, which it is, it’s been months since they told the gang they were going steady (my God, Kara really does sound like she stepped out of a black-and-white talkie most of the time), then it’s gonna be the best version of him that he can be. This is what Lena does: she creates, she molds, she innovates. She’s going to make Mon-El the best partner for Kara. She’s gonna 'My Fair Lady' him. Next stop, boys’ night.
She lays her head on the pillow and finally finds sleep.