11. Chapter 11(2)

The only surprise on the scoreboard is just how big the margin of victory is – Lakehawks 135 Grenadiers 97 – and when Lena watches the team exit the court from the tunnel they all practically skip towards the locker room, yelling and whooping and high fiving everyone in sight.

--

Lena doesn’t even bother with pretense. The thrill of winning is undeniable and she’s not going to pretend like she’s not itching to get her hands on Kara. So instead of going out for a drink with Jack and Lex, she has George linger in the players’ lot while Kara finishes up the postgame press rounds. She sits in the back of the car answering e-mails and text messages about the game and double checking her schedule for the morning. It passes the time until Kara’s opening the door, throwing her bag inside and sliding in next to Lena.

“Hey,” Kara says with a wide, happy smile as she presses a warm kiss to Lena’s cheek. She’s in her postgame outfit, grey slacks and a matching blazer with the cuffs rolled up. The only difference between the postgame interview look and now is the baseball cap settled on her head. “You didn’t have to wait.”

Lena shrugs, catches George’s eye in the rearview and tells him to take them to the penthouse before closing the privacy partition. “Good game,” she murmurs, basking in the glow of what Kara’s like after a well earned victory.

Kara settles into the seat as the car starts to pull away from the stadium, adjusts her blazer and lets her head fall back as she turns to look at Lena. “Thanks,” she says, hand falling to Lena’s thigh just high enough to make Lena shift closer. “One down, three to go.”

“Looked like your back might have been bothering you when you took that foul in the third,” Lena says softly, eyes focused on Kara’s features. They stay relaxed even as she blows out a heavy breath and rolls her head around a bit.

“Nah,” she plays off. “Feels fine.”

“You sure?” Lena prods, reaching up to tip the brim of the baby blue hat Kara’s wearing up to better reveal her eyes.

Kara pulls the cap off her head and smiles. “I was just trying to make sure I got the call,” she admits, nose scrunching up.

Lena laughs even as her eyes flit upwards. “Oh, so you flop now?”

“Anything to win, you know that,” Kara jokes, throwing her hat to the empty seat across from them and focusing her full attention on Lena.

The air in the car goes the kind of thick it always does when Lena’s caught in Kara’s airspace, fresh off the court after a good win. Lena swallows against the sudden shift of arousal flushing up her neck and licks out against dry lips.

Kara’s grin mirrors the one she had just before the game tipped off and Lena feels like prey under her gaze, like a conquest about to be realized. It pushes exhilaration into her extremities and down into her gut and though she keeps her lips pressed together, they turn up into a bit of a smirk.  

Without even speaking it into the air, they shuffle around in the seat until Lena’s practically in Kara’s lap, her fingers gripping at the lapels of Kara’s jacket to pull her in close. “Tell George to take the long way,” Kara whispers, her mouth so close to Lena’s that she feels the words more than hears them.

Lena doesn’t subject George to driving them around for a romantic tryst in the backseat, but she does let Kara feel her up just enough that when she steps out of the car with rumpled clothing and swollen lips, George looks pointedly away and Lena makes a note to raise his pay.

They make it all the way up to Lena’s penthouse, Kara tugging her forward and laughing when they catch the exasperated look of the doorman buzzing them through to the elevators. They’re a bit careless and messy with the way Kara pushes her up against the elevator wall and doesn’t stop kissing her even when the door dings open.

It feels good. 

The kind of sex that will have Lena walking funny into work in the morning and zoning out in the middle of investor meetings because a flashback will hit her at just the wrong moment.

Kara’s got her pinned to the bed with a hand at her hip to hold her down and the other gripped into her hair, just sharp enough to be on the pleasurable side of painful. She’s fucking into Lena with a purpose, stealing the breath out of Lena’s throat so acutely that she feels like she might space out entirely. The whole of her being is concentrated between her legs, a pounding rhythm that blacks out behind her eyes.  

“God,” Kara breathes out, forehead dropping to Lena’s back, right between her shoulder blades as her hips keep moving.

It’s a telltale sign Kara’s close, the staggered jut of her hips, the sweaty, exhausted way she pants into Lena’s neck. It shoves Lena closer to the edge, a spiral of feeling making her feel dizzy as she cants backwards, chasing the feeling of Kara stretching her out and filling her up.

Her vision goes so fuzzy she has to close her eyes as everything tightens up in her gut, spiking right into her clit and then releasing so violently her voice cracks into a cry as she comes. Kara’s only moments behind her, the fingers tangled in her hair tightening as it happens and she lets out a noise against Lena’s skin.

But it’s not over. Kara seems unstoppable, energized by the game and ruthlessly toying with Lena’s oversensitive flesh. This time with Lena on her back, nails biting into Kara’s shoulders as she comes and then later with Lena crawling down Kara’s body to return the favor, enjoying the power in making Kara arch her back and beg just a little.

By the time they both tap out, Lena’s chest is red from exertion and Kara’s sucking in air, the muscles of her stomach flexing with each breath in a manner that makes Lena consider – for one hysterical second – starting all over again.

Kara laughs at the ceiling and Lena shifts against the sticky, cooling sheets. “Do you think that will ever stop being like that?”

Dropping her head on Kara’s shoulder, Lena chuckles. “Maybe when we’re old and you can barely move because of a long series of sports injuries.”

Kara traces the line of Lena’s spine with her fingers. It’s a light soothing sensation against Lena’s overheated skin. Her eyes flutter closed a bit. “Nah, science will have evolved enough by then that I’ll be fine.”

Lena laughs again. “Tell me that again when we’re eighty.”

Kara’s arm pulls Lena in closer. “Deal,” she says softly.

Body sinking against Kara, Lena feels sleep pulling at the back of her mind. “We should change the sheets and clean up.”

“In a second,” Kara says and Lena’s asleep the next.  

--

It’s a quick turnaround between game one and game two and just like that Lena’s spending her day thinking of basketball while trying to sit through a finance meeting about funding for a new international project.

Game one was an anomaly. That’s what all the major sports talking heads are saying. That there’s no way the Lakehawks can continue to dominate like that the entire series. That it was a combination of experience and home court advantage that gave the Lakehawks the edge.

Jack sends her about twenty tweets on the subject – along with his own commentary – and Lex stops by her office so many times that morning that Lena has Jess bar him from the floor lest his own nerves rub off on Lena.

Kara sends her a picture from the morning walkthrough – it’s an aerial view of her shirtless body, clearly framed to show the ice pack strapped to her back just under her sports bra. trainers aren’t as good at wrapping as you

Lena highly doubts that but laughs at the memory of helping Kara with her ice packs during her injury. It brings up a certain fondness and exasperation that has her shaking her head at herself.

Does your back hurt?

yeah it’s hard work carrying my whole team to victory, Kara replies and then seconds later just kidding basketball is a team sport I love my team and also my back doesn’t hurt it’s just precautionary

Lena laughs and sends back a heart emoji. Good luck tonight, darling , she types back.

Kara’s reply is immediate: you know I don’t need luck

 A few seconds pass.

I love you, Kara sends and Lena’s only interrupted from staring at her phone tenderly by a knock on her door and an exasperated assistant asking her if it’s okay to call security on Lex.

--

It’s not nearly the slaughtering of game one, but the Lakehawks still emerge victorious in game two, claiming a decisive lead in the series as they’re set to head out to Gotham for game three. Kara plays so well that it’s all the news outlets can talk about that night.

It broadcasts on the massive flatscreen Kara has mounted to her bedroom wall and Lena splits her attention between the television and her phone while Kara sips at her postgame smoothie and ices her back.

“Kara Danvers has clearly decided it’s time for a threepeat,” the desk anchor is saying, joking with his co-anchor who nods in agreement. “You have to wonder if Barbara Gordon and her Grenadiers are going to find an answer for that.” 

“Is there any stopping her when she’s like that?”

The two anchors shrug at each other, shaking their heads while a third at the desk laughs and turns to the camera. “Well, folks, we’ll certainly find out on Wednesday when the NWBA Finals heads to Gotham for game three. We’ve got all your pregame analysis and predictions here. Stay tuned.”

Kara clicks the television off and chucks the remote to the bedside table, turning towards where Lena’s answering an e-mail from a Brazilian subsidiary about a change in distribution costs. “You’re coming to Gotham, right?”

“Of course,” Lena replies absently, signing off on the e-mail before sending it. She sets her phone down on the charger that’s taken up residence on Kara’s bedside table and gives Kara her attention.

“Cool,” Kara says, noisily slurping the last of her smoothie up through a straw and setting it aside. “Where are you staying?”

“Same place as you,” Lena answers, scrunching her nose up in a way that makes Kara laugh.

“Yeah, but I bet your room is a lot nicer than mine.”

“Are there such things as nice rooms in Gotham?” Lena asks. The executive suite at Regal Hotel is as fine as one can expect considering there’s a rat-infested burger joint on the same corner.

Kara laughs. “You must love me if you’re willing to spend the night in Gotham just for me.”

Lena arches a brow. “I love my basketball team,” she corrects, but Kara seems thrilled by that all the same. “I’m doing it for them.”

“Hey, that’s even better,” she says, pulling Lena down on the bed and muffling Lena’s retort with her lips.  

--

“They really should just declare the whole city a biohazard,” Jack says when they meet in the hotel lobby for a pregame drink before game three. There had been no way Jack was missing a single game even if it meant traveling to Gotham. Even Lana is slated to meet up with them, making the much shorter trip from Metropolis.

“It’s just for the weekend, Jack, I’m sure you’ll survive,” Lena says, texting Lex to see why he’s running late.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he says, adjusting his light blue Lakehawks tie and perusing the shelf of whiskey behind the bar. “We better win it all because I am not coming back here if I can help it.”

“On that, we agree,” Lena says, setting her phone on the bartop and picking up the small happy hour menu in front of her.

“Where’s Lex?”

“Tied up, apparently,” she says, trading the happy hour menu for the wine list in the hopes it has better offerings. “He’ll be here soon.”

Jack’s fingers tap against the bar and he adjusts the knot in his tie again. It’s a nervous fidget that charms Lena when she realizes the source. To think they’d both be here, anxious over a basketball game and a team they’d been deriding only months before.

“Nervous?” Lena teases, setting the menu down and trying to fight an amused look.

Jack, however, isn’t ashamed in the slightest. “ Yes,” he says emphatically. “This is the first road test of the Finals. How could I not be?”

Lena laughs. “Try not to think about it,” she suggests. “Order a drink.”

The bartender appears before them – summoned perhaps by eavesdropping on Lena’s suggestion – and they both order. Jack takes a long sip of his whiskey sour before going back to tapping against the bar and regarding Lena with palpable anxiety.

“How’s Kara feeling about it? Did she say anything?”

Lena laughs. “Confident as always,” she says thinking of the way Kara had winked at her when they’d parted in National City – Kara off to the team plane and Lena to work before she’d catch her charter jet later that afternoon.

“That’s what makes her Kara Danvers,” he says as he seems to relax at the mere idea of it. Lena supposes that’s part of Kara’s mystique, the ability to instill confidence in the entire Lakehawks contingent purely by her own self-belief.

“True,” Lena murmurs affectionately.

Lex interrupts them then, shrugging a dark navy blazer on over his Lakehawks jersey as he paces quickly towards their seats at the bar. He doesn’t greet them. Just reaches for Lena’s martini and takes a far too large sip of it. “Anyone else nervous?” he asks when he’s done and Lena just rolls her eyes, swiping her drink back, as Jack lets out an emphatic exhaled yes .

Lana joins them fifteen minutes later in a killer blue dress and heels Lena’s pretty sure Lana stole from her in college. She takes one look at Jack and Lex and rolls her eyes, takes the same long sip out of Lena’s drink without asking and sits down next to Lena. “You pansies need to relax,” she tells the boys. “The Lakehawks have this in the bag.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Jack and Lex manage to say in unison and though Lena laughs at Lana’s antics, she puts a fist under the bartop, out of sight, and knocks on wood.

--

Thankfully, for all their worrying, game three goes precisely according to plan – or so Kara says when she recaps the victory later. The loss of a home court advantage doesn’t seem to trip up the team much at all even when the Gotham fans come out energized for tip-off.

By halftime the home crowd is much more subdued. Most likely due to the ten-point lead the Lakehawks have gathered going into the locker room. Even Jack and Lex seem to relax enough to enjoy the halftime show – though that perhaps has more to due with Lana’s running commentary and endless sarcasm than anything regarding the game. 

The Grenadiers try valiantly to crawl back into contention, but the Lakehawks never lose the lead. In the end they win by seven and Gotham walks out amidst a crowd that had mostly emptied by the fourth quarter with their heads hanging down.

The Lakehawks, by contrast, stride to the locker room in jubilation – Maggie miming sweeping motions as she brings up the rear. There’s a sense that the series is the Lakehawks’s to lose and any postgame commentary that Lena catches no longer sees Gotham as posing any kind of threat.

Back at the hotel, Lena lingers at the lobby bar for longer than she might normally. Lana tries to convince them all to head to some club she’s found on the west end of town, but Lena refuses. Even on a normal weekend she’d be skeptical of any random club Lana’s found in a place like Gotham, but right now she’s waiting for one particular person to walk through the doors and she doesn’t want to miss it.

Jack gives her a knowing look as he departs with Lex and Lana that makes her glare at him, but she doesn’t move from her perch, sipping slowly at her amaretto sour as she waits for the inevitable staggered trail of Lakehawks players to filter into the hotel.

At long last it happens, Alex and Lucy, Maggie, Eve, all of them walking into the lobby and dispersing to their various rooms.

Kara is last, striding in with M’gann and talking about something intently. Lena watches as Kara’s head lifts up just enough to catch sight of Lena, her attention instantly distracted from their conversation. M’gann seems to realize it too and follows Kara’s eyeline until she’s looking at Lena, an unreadable expression on her face before turning back to Kara.

They exchange a few more words before splitting and then M’gann’s off towards the elevators with one last glance in Lena’s direction. It feels mildly victorious when she doesn’t feel the expected spike of anxiety knowing M’gann’s likely put two and two together without much trouble.

“Hey,” Kara says, coming up to the bar by her side. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Lena drops the stir straw she’d been playing with back in her drink and regards Kara with an elbow propped up on the bar, head in her hand. “Waiting for someone,” Lena answers, enjoying the flirty way Kara smiles.

Kara ducks her head and pushes her glasses back up her nose. “I could be someone,” she offers, bashful enough in her delivery that Lena thinks about kissing her right then and there.

Instead, Lena drops the appropriate amount of cash on the bar next to her drink and stands. “Want to see what Gotham has the audacity to consider an executive suite?”

Kara laughs, the sound like a pulse into Lena’s gut. “Absolutely.”

--

The suite isn’t as terrible as she’s made it out to be, and she certainly feels more fondness for it after she’s had Kara pressed up against the majority of its surfaces. It suits their needs and Kara mentions as much, affectionately teasing Lena for being a snob about it even as she curls her nose up at the coffee selection.

Kara stays as late as she can, testing her ability to get back to her room quickly enough to make Cat’s diligent and strict bed checks. Lena curls her hand around a cup of coffee and watches as Kara shuffles around the room collecting strewn items of clothing and tugging them back on haphazardly. It’s a now-familiar sight that tugs lightly under Lena’s ribs.

There’s something about Kara in these moments. Her hair finger combed and pulled back, neck still flushed from earlier and a look about her lips that makes Lena want to bite at them. She has her pants on now, still unbuttoned while she gets her shoes on and Lena abandons her coffee for pressing back into Kara’s space. 

It makes Kara laugh into a kiss as she wraps Lena back up, tugging at the shirt Lena’d thrown on to make her coffee. “I’m going to need this back,” Kara murmurs through a smile. 

“Then take it,” Lena says, her throat a bit hoarse. Kara’s eyes go a bit dark in a way that makes Lena feel liquid. 

“It’s gonna be hard to do my job tomorrow if I can’t walk.” 

Lena can’t help but laugh - more at herself for feeling persuaded away from pushing Kara back towards the couch - and she steps out of Kara’s space to drop the shirt off her shoulders and hand it over. It leaves her mostly bare to the chill air of the hotel room, but Kara’s look heats her up well enough. 

This time Kara laughs, a thick, worn-out sound that has Lena smiling. After pulling her shirt back on, Kara wraps Lena up again and they hover in each other’s airspace for a long moment. Lena savors the feeling of Kara’s palms at the small of her back, the way her chest feels against the fabric of Kara’s shirt and the warmth of her as she noses into Kara’s neck. 

They linger there a few more moments before Lena reluctantly breaks away and gives Kara the space to finish dressing. She returns to sipping her coffee and watching the ritual of it, thinking about the game tomorrow and what it all means. 

“What does it feel like?” Lena asks as Kara’s pocketing her wallet and her phone. “Knowing you could win it all tomorrow.” 

Kara seems to ponder the question, striding to where Lena’s sat and taking a sip of her coffee. “I guess I try not to think about it that way,” she says, sounding earnest. “Can’t get too much in your head about it. That’s how you end up losing.” 

The idea that Lakehawks could lose tomorrow isn’t something Lena’d like to dwell on and just the idea of it sounds so foreign coming out of Kara’s mouth. Judging by the little laugh Kara lets out, it must show on Lena’s face. 

“See,” Kara says. “Thinking about it too much is never a good route. Trust me. I’ve done this a few times. There’s no time for that.” 

Lena hums in acknowledgement. “Easier said than done,” she mutters and Kara nods a little even as she chuckles. 

“That’s why I play and you watch,” Kara teases and Lena rolls her eyes, hits her lightly in retribution. Kara captures her hand and plays with it a moment. “I mean, do you think a lot about like...a business meeting going poorly, or super well? Or losing out on a big contract or whatever it is you do?” 

Lena tsks at her, knowing full well Kara understands what Lena does better than she lets on, but gives the question its due. “No, I suppose not.” 

“Because you’re prepared for that, right? It’s your job.”

“Yes,” she answers, seeing Kara’s point and acknowledging it with an arch of her brow. 

“This is my job. Either way, it’s what we’ve worked for all year,”  she says, picking up her jacket and sliding it on. There’s a fire in Kara’s expression that catches in Lena’s chest. “A chance at it, you know? We’re prepared. The series is ours. Whether it takes four games or seven.”

Just the idea of it feels intoxicating and not for the first time Lena feels swept up in Kara Danvers’s mystique, that larger than life bit of her that never fails to impress. 

But then Kara’s threading forward, pressing a last, lingering kiss to her lips and whispering her goodbyes. A soft, regretful, “I have to go.” 

“Love you,” Lena calls out as Kara gets to her door and halfway turns to smile at her. 

“You too,” Kara replies, flushed and happy as she wiggles her eyebrows in such a dorky way that Lena’s left laughing as the door closes behind her. 

--

There’s something heavy in the air the next morning and despite Kara’s insistence that thinking too much about the game does no good, it’s all Lena can focus on. The chance of it, as Kara had said. It sits in the forefront of her mind, the image of the Lakehawks nabbing their third championship in a row, of being a part of it. 

By the time she gets to the designated brunch spot (a place Lana swears is up to health code), she’s so preoccupied with the fantasy image of Kara holding a trophy that it takes her a second longer than normal to notice Jack’s disheveled appearance when he drops into the booth across from her.  

He’s wearing sunglasses, his hair tousled like he’s ran his fingers through it over and over again and his expression looks like he’s got something foul tasting stuck in his mouth. It makes her laugh. “Have a good time last night?”

“Why do I always forget that when Lana and Lex get together it never ends well for anyone?” He reaches for the water set in front of his place and takes a long sip of it. “They’re apocalyptic.”

“Selective memory,” Lena answers, sliding her own water towards him when he nearly finishes his own in one go. “Should I expect the other two to be in as terrible shape as you are?”

“Who’s to say,” Jack grumbles, gratefully accepting Lena’s water and sinking further down into the booth. “Can I assume by your disposition this morning that you don’t regret your decision not to join us?”

“You can assume that by your own disposition,” she jokes, enjoys the way he goes a bit green at the gills when a server passes their table with two plates of hot food.

Lana joins them then, looking nowhere near as bad as Jack does. In fact, she’s practically beaming as she slides into the seat next to Jack. Lex is following behind her typing intently on his phone until he gets to his seat and pockets it as he drops down next to Lena.

“Hey, Jacky,” Lana says in that evil sounding voice she has.

Jack glares at her – as much as he can with his eyes still hidden behind dark sunglasses. Lex laughs, slinging an arm across the top of the booth seat above Lena’s shoulders. “You’re looking lively this morning,” he says to Jack, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with Lana.

Jack turns his ire to Lex, but neither Lex nor Lana look at all affected. Lana bumps her shoulder into his affectionately. “Come on, a prairie oyster and some dry toast and you’ll be fine,” she cajoles.

“And how was your night, dear sister?” Lex asks, plucking a menu up from the booth and observing it. He has an air of joy radiating off him that makes Lena suspicious. It usually precedes one of Lex’s ridiculous life plans like darting off to parts unknown for the better part of the year.

“What has you so chipper this morning?” Lena asks in lieu of answering his question.

“My basketball team is on the verge of sweeping the team owned by one of my most bitter business rivals,” Lex says with the same kind of proud confidence Lena’d seen on Kara’s face just the night before. “What’s not to be happy about?”

“Hubris,” Lana tsks, shooting Lex a scolding look. “The weakness of men.”

“You weren’t so confident a few days ago,” Lena points out, remembering the fidgety way he’d joined them at the hotel bar. If she’s honest, a superstitious tingle is crawling up her own spine at the assured way he’s speaking.

He rolls his head around his shoulders, smiles relaxed and easy. “I don’t know, I have a good feeling about this,” he says.

Jack makes a face, shoves at Lana’s shoulder to get her to move out of the booth. “Move, I have to puke,” he tells her in a no-nonsense enough way that she scuttles out of her seat quickly and Jack darts away.

“What did you do to him?” Lena asks, looking pointedly at Lana who scoffs, offended as she sits back down.

“Why do you automatically think it was me?”

“Because I know you,” Lena says and Lana laughs – that evil kind of mirth that has Lena concerned over whether or not Jack will be able to rally by game time.

“Jack’s a big boy,” Lex says, waving Lena off. “He’ll be fine.”

A conspiratorial look passes between her brother and her best friend, but before she can comment, Lana’s turning towards her with a deeply evil smile. “So how was Kara?”

Lex’s eyebrows rise on his forehead as he looks at her. “You were with Kara last night?”

“As if she’d ditch us for anything less than Kara Danvers’s big –”

Their server thankfully interrupts them before Lana can finish the sentence – Lena’s toe to her shin certainly helps as well – and they go about ordering their brunch, Jack returning to the table just in time to put in his own order of dry toast and the biggest glass of water they have.

“The ‘Hawks better win tonight otherwise this trip has brought me nothing but pain,” Jack complains later, still gulping down his water and taking the last slow bite of his toast.

“They will,” Lex tells him and this time it’s Lena who elbows his side, hard enough for him to make a noise.

“Stop jinxing it,” she hisses at him, so sincerely that she barely recognizes she’s the one who’s said it. But she most certainly has and though Jack is looking at her with a hint of bemused pride in his otherwise hungover expression, Lana is gaping at her, eyes wide and eyebrows lifted.

“What has happened to you?” Lana asks, but there’s laughter and affection curling around the words.

“Kara Danvers, clearly,” Lex answers for her, rubbing at his side and looking at her pitifully enough that she rolls her eyes.

“Am I not allowed to care about a basketball team I happen to own?” Lena asks, feeling the flush in her cheeks, but ignoring it as she takes a stab at the last of her meal.

“Of course. I’m just not entirely sure your reputation will survive it,” Jack teases and Lena chuckles.

Lex joins in the noise, sinking against the booth and smiling. “Wait until Mother hears about this,” he says, spinning his fork around in his fingers. “Both of her children gone completely soft.”

“Perish the thought,” Lena says in imitation of Lillian that the table laughs over.

--

They lose game four.

That weird feeling Lena’s been harboring grows over the course of the game as the Lakehawks trade leads with the Grenadiers constantly, battling it out more than they have in any game previously. Barbara Gordon works hard to neutralize Kara, blocking a few shots and getting in the way of plenty of others. Kara pays her back in kind, from what Lena can tell based on Barbara’s pitiful scoreline - but when Lex grabs a stat sheet from a passing attendant at half, it’s clear Barbara’s had only the slightest more success than Kara in getting passes and shots off. 

The Lakehawks don’t seem frustrated or lethargic, just - a little off. Off enough that the game isn’t quite within their grasp. Lucy’s three isn’t falling the way it usually would, Alex is having trouble containing Kate Kane, and Maggie isn’t disrupting the paint the way she has the last few games.

It doesn’t help that the arena rocks every time the Grenadiers turn a failed Lakehawks play into a basket. Lena understands it logically - the Grenadiers have their backs to the wall and every point is monumental in that kind of battle. But still, when Helena Bertinelli hangs an easy shot over M’gann’s head somewhere in the third quarter and the fans go nuts, she has to work hard to hold off her scoff. 

The television timeout comes right after, the ref dropping the ball at the baseline and hovering over it while the teams start meandering back to their benches. Lena watches as the teams intermix, Kara uncharacteristically stoic as she passes by Helena Bertinelli and then Kate Kane, shoulders brushing as they move around each other. 

“We need to turn this around,” Lex mutters, sipping his scotch and soda and frowning unhappily when another statline is delivered to them on a complimentary Wayne Enterprises branded piece of paper. 

Cat is glaring at her starting lineup as they settle onto the bench for their quick timeout, grabbing towels and water bottles. It’s funny, that Lena recognizes the full breadth of the routine, knows that Kara will take a sip of her Gatorade and give a thumbs up to the staff handing it to her while Cat rips the playboard from J’onn’s hand and never once draws on it.

“I need a drink,” Jack says, gesturing for the waiter that serves the courtside seats. 

Lana laughs, the frown that’d been creeping on her face morphing into something more delighted as she turns away from the scene on the court. “And he’s back on the horse!” 

“Just trying to change the mojo,” he grumbles, still looking a bit paler than usual. 

“Smart,” Lex tells him, serious as ever and Lena can’t help but agree, surprised at just how strong her superstitions have gotten. It makes her think of Kara detailing some of her pregame rituals and those of her teammates. What order a pair of socks go on or how many dribbles to take before a free throw. A rational part of her still finds the entire thing absurd, but a deeper part of her that sees Kara scrubbing a hand over her face, an indicator of distress, wants to find any way to help turn this game around. Ridiculous or not. 

It’s an odd portrait, one she never thought she’d be in. But she sees it stretch out into her future and it settles over her like a balm. Kara stands up from the bench as the ref blows the whistle to restart the game and they connect eyes for the briefest of moments. There’s determination there and for a brief flicker Lena feels some hope that it will all turn around. 

Kara certainly plays like a one woman wrecking ball. For most of the third quarter, she’s the only one on her side of the floor scoring any points or putting up any kind of effective defense. It seems that, for a moment, she might be able to single-handedly win the game herself. 

But for all her effort, the Grenadiers stay the course, sinking rebuttal baskets to Kara’s impossible threes and doing enough scoring when Kara’s taken off the court after a bad foul that they’re able to retain their lead. 

Despite the sixty-three points and fifteen assists Kara’s manages to tally by the end, Gotham’s on top and the fans in Acme Center go absolutely crazy. 

Lena feels stunned as the buzzer sounds. 

Even Jack has nothing to say on the subject, just blinks in surprise at the scoreboard and the way the Lakehawks shuffle off the court. It’s a shock, to say the least. Lena had just gotten comfortable with the Lakehawks stranglehold on the series and just like that, Gotham figures out a way to turn the tables in their favor. Rips the championship right out from under them.

Lana looks like she might charge onto the court to fight one of the Grenadiers, while Lex stands there with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Lena’s disappointment, of course is twofold.

All Kara has to say later on the subject is, “No one wanted to win it in Gotham of all places anyway. Can you imagine the afterparty?”

It’s obvious Kara’s a bit more than put out by not sweeping the Finals, but Lena lets it go, indulging the grumpy way she shows up at Lena’s late the next night when they’ve gotten back to National City and pulls her into bed.

Lena makes it her mission to get Kara out of her head as much as she can. It’s late, but Lena kisses Kara with intention, pushes her down onto the mattress and does her best to make Kara forget about basketball for a long while.

It seems to do the trick. Kara gives in to the way Lena manipulates her body, lets her have her way until Kara’s groaning out her satisfaction with a panted breath. It’s the first time Lena’s seen Kara smile since she walked off the court in Gotham and Lena enjoys the view, swiping softly at the damp hair that’s fallen over Kara’s forehead.

The peace doesn’t last long, however. Lena can sense the gloomy way Kara returns to thinking about the game and the silent way she pulls Lena in close to kiss at her temple is telling. 

It’s strange. Lena’s never been so in tune with another human being before and certainly never cared so deeply about their dips in mood. Somewhere between swearing their relationship was only about sex and now, Lena’s become completely dialed into Kara, able to tell when she’s upset about something in a flash.

But she’s also learned that sometimes Kara’s not nearly as aware of her own feelings and even then, she often needs time to process before they can talk about anything real. So, Lena stays quiet and counts Kara’s breaths, lets the silence stretch out around them while Kara seems to think.

Lena’s nearly asleep when Kara finally speaks.

“Do you wanna go on a vacation after this?”

It takes a second for Lena to pull her brain away from the heavy tug of sleep at its back and her brow dips, as she cranes her head up to look at Kara. “After what?”

“The Finals,” Kara clarifies. “Like after the season is officially over.”

It’s an easy ask, all things considered. Lena thinks about what Kara might look like sun-kissed and happy on a far off beach or holed away in a cozy cabin in the woods. Both pictures warm Lena’s stomach and she smiles. “What made you think of that?”

Kara shrugs, shifts a bit to roll onto her side and Lena moves to match her until they’re lying face-to-face. “Dunno, sounded nice.”

“Do you not usually go on a postseason vacation with the team?” Lena vaguely recalls tales of the Lakehawks post-championship celebrations – parades and yachts and a slideshow of pictures involving massive bottles of champagne and beer showers. “I’d think you want to celeb –”

Kara laughs when Lena abruptly cuts herself off. “There’d have to be something to celebrate,” Kara whispers, but it’s lighthearted and lacks the melancholy Kara’d been carrying with her earlier.

“I know that,” Lena says, pushing her fingers into Kara’s stomach playfully.

Kara captures her fingers, holds them hostage between them and smiles at Lena across the dark.

“I’ve already been on one too many boozy vacations with the team,” Kara says. “How many times do I really have to help Alex puke over the side of a boat because she insists she doesn’t get seasick if she drinks?”

“I think that might be something siblings have to do for their whole lives,” Lena says, laughing. She can remember Lex valiantly trying to hold Lena’s hair back more than once in varied tropical locations, including one time he had decided to force her into a pool to wash her off. She had broken one of his fingers in return.

Kara hums a bit. “You’re probably right,” she says through a soft short chuckle. “Then after I save Alex from herself somewhere in the Bahamas, do you want to go somewhere with me?” Kara pauses, her fingers light where they hold onto Lena’s. “Just the two of us?” 

“I could be persuaded,” Lena says, smiling. “What did you have in mind?” 

Kara shrugs a bit, shuffling closer on the bed. “I just like the idea of being with you,” she says simply, the feel of it manifesting in Lena’s chest. “When the dust settles.” 

“Me too,” Lena manages to say, but her throat aches like she might start crying and she has to bite at her bottom lip to stop herself. 

“Cool,” Kara breathes out, a quirky smile on her face before she leans forward to kiss her. Lena presses her hands up Kara’s stomach towards her side, can imagine the row of tattooed trophies under her fingertips. 

It’s quiet again as Kara shuffles back onto her back and Lena shifts in next to her to settle at her side, her palm gliding across her stomach. Lena’s nearly asleep when Kara speaks again, words soft into the dark of the bedroom. 

“I’m not going to lose this one.” 

Lena presses her hand solidly against Kara’s side. “I know you won’t,” she says quietly, feeling the truth of it deep in her bones, tethering them both to the bed. “I believe in you.” 

Kara doesn’t reply, but Lena can sense her smile when she drops a quick kiss to the crown of Lena’s head. 

--

In the morning, Kara’s attitude lacks any kind of the despair that had lingered all of postgame the night before. She’s up well before Lena is, making a morning protein shake in the kitchen – loud enough to rouse Lena all the way in the bedroom – and is practically bouncing by the time Lena shuffles out of bed.

Though her brow lifts at the sight she accepts the coffee Kara’s made her without question. “I’ve got trainer at nine, shootaround at noon,” Kara tells her, still sipping at her shake and rustling in the cabinets for food.

“Okay,” Lena says, sitting at her counter and letting her coffee do the work of waking her brain up.

“What are you doing today?”

Lena shrugs a shoulder and sets her mug down, warming her hands on its sides. “I’ll probably spend most of the day trying not to worry about the game and hopefully get some work done,” she says with a wry twist of her lips. Kara’s energy has her feeling restless even as her brain struggles to greet the morning.

“Why would you be worried?” Kara asks, confusion pulling her brow down. Lena just looks at her over the rim of her coffee mug until Kara seems to finally understand, her eyebrows lifting and a little laugh escaping her. “Ah, well...no sense in worrying about something you can’t control. Didn’t I already give you my speech on overthinking this stuff?” 

Lena shoots her a look. “Well surely if I could control it, I wouldn’t be worried at all. That’s the point.” 

Kara sets the bag of granola she’d be inspecting back down on the counter and moves around towards Lena. “I told you last night I wasn’t losing this series,” she tells her seriously. “I meant that.” 

“I know you did,” Lena says, reaching out to clasp Kara’s hand. “I meant what I said too.” 

“So there you go,” Kara says, smiling widely. “Stop worrying. Enjoy the moment and start thinking about where you’d like to go for vacation. Are we thinking bikini weather or a bear rug in front of a fireplace?” 

Lena laughs. 

--

Despite Kara’s assurances, Lena’s barely able to work. Though it’s not so much worry anymore but rather a preoccupation with what’s to come. 

Lex wanders over to her office from the other side of the executive floor - she’d finally caved and let him move back in - with a very large cup of coffee and wide eyes at around nine, slumping into the chairs across from Lena’s desk.

“Do you think we could just go downstairs and invent time travel real quick so that we could get to seven faster?” he asks. Lena rolls her eyes, but feels the burn of anticipation still in her spine. “I watched the rerun of game four twice on the flight back.”

“You have a problem,” Lena says. She doesn’t mention that she too has seen the rerun, largely because Kara had played parts of it while Lena was coincidentally in the room. 

“Is it a problem to care about something very, very deeply, possibly to an extreme?” Lex says, laughing when Lena responds with a pointed look. “As if you’re one to talk. You can’t fool me.” 

“I’m perfectly calm,” Lena says, closing a file over some contracts she’d looked over twice without actually managing to read any of it. It’s true, though. She’s calm, if a little distracted. 

“I don’t know how that could be true. This whole thing is nerve wracking. I much prefer one-and-dones.”  

“That seems like it’d have its own host of problems,” Lena says, but Lex seems fit to ignore her, as always. 

“Do you think we could change the playoff format? We should propose it at the next owner’s meeting,” he says, his eyes starting to glaze over with the thought. “I’m sure we could get Bruce on board. Maybe I could sweet-talk Moira Queen into it.” 

“Have you ever been able to sweet talk Moira into anything?” Lena asks, pulling his attention back to her. “You sent me to that ArrowDyn acquisition because you were too scared of her.”

Lex concedes the point with a tilt of his head and an unrepentant smile. “Okay, maybe you could sweet-talk Moira Queen into it,” he amends and she rolls her eyes. 

“I have real work to do today,” she tells him pointedly, eyes shifting to her office door. 

He looks unconcerned with that, but does unseat himself, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment. “To think you’d skip out on a chance to completely revolutionize the NWBA.” 

“Leave, Lex,” she orders, but she’s laughing as she points at the door. 

He smiles at her, but obeys her instruction, pausing halfway there to turn. “I should warn you that Lana is coming for the game,” he says, sipping his coffee and pocketing his free hand. “She asked for the jet this morning.” 

“You can pay the fuel bill then,” she replies, mentally taking stock if she has enough liquor in her cabinet to support a visit from Lana. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes and resuming his walk. “See you in the IT meeting at one?” 

He’s already out the door by the time Lena calls out after him. “Who let you in that meeting?” 

--

Around four, Jack appears to pick her up for their pregame happy hour. He’s wearing his Lakehawks jersey underneath a blazer and carrying, absurdly, the thick spiral-bound packet Lena had used to learn about the team when she had first decided to keep them. It makes her laugh when he drops it onto Lena’s desk with a wry smile.

“What’s this for?” Lena asks, sliding it closer and looking over the promotional shot of Kara from the beginning of the season. When she flips it open, there are notes from her and Jack scattered throughout, a few pages stained with wine and coffee. It makes her laugh softly as her fingers trace over it.  

“Found it in my office at home while I was getting ready to leave. Figured it could bring us some good luck tonight, since it helped you get lucky,” Jack says with a playful smile and a shrug. 

Lena clicks her tongue at him when she feels a warmth creep up her neck, but also loves him for the gesture. She flips it closed again and stands to pull him into a hug. “Thanks.” 

“For what? Telling you to get it out of your system?” Jack asks, laughing when she pulls out of the hug to swat at him. 

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Come on,” he says, grinning so widely, Lena’s worried he’ll hurt himself. “There are drinks to be had and balls to be thrown through hoops.” 

Laughing, Lena powers her computer down and moves to collect her bag. “Indeed,” she says, taking his offered arm and striding out of her office with him. 

--

By the time they get to the game - Lex and Lana now in tow - it’s six thirty and the place is already bursting to the seams with raucous fans. The music is turned up loud, highlights from previous games playing on the jumbotron, and Lena can’t help but feel the energy she’s been trying to tamp down all day ramp up quickly. 

There’s a clear feeling in the air that the Lakehawks and their fans are playing with The Finals trophy in their own building. Someone from ESPN finds their way to Lena and Lex and corners them around twenty minutes before tip-off, asking for quotes on the possibility of winning for the first time in National City.

Thankfully, Lena’s practiced enough to give a standard, polite answer and Lex goes along with her. 

It’s a far cry from what’s actually going on in her head which is swimming with the prospect of how her night might go if the Lakehawks win the damn thing. Enjoy the moment, Kara had said. No time to overthink the possibility of losing. Focus on the goal. 

Lena lets it thrill her, transforms all her nervous anticipation into excitement and winks at Kara when she walks off from warmups, headed to the bench for starting lineups. There’s a fierce look in Kara’s eye when she returns Lena’s smile with a brief one of her own before focusing solely on her team. 

The players huddle up nearby as they always do before a game and Lena catches some of what’s said. Alex claps her hands together solidly in the center: this is National fucking City and no way are we gonna let Gotham come in here and take our championship.

Kara joins in with her sister and adds a fervent this is our house and our trophy and it’s time to defend it. Let’s take what’s ours. 

The sound of them all joining in for a loud shout of TEAM is like a warcry as is the deafening sound of the crowd beginning an up, up away cheer that grows in volume as the teams line up for tip off. 

Then the ball is thrown in the air and the Lakehawks take on the game with a sort of vengeance. It’s like they’d been coasting this entire time, because from the moment the ball is tipped in their favor, they come out swinging. Hard. 

Kara had told Lena once that sometimes the best way to beat a team was to demoralize them as quickly as possible. If you could get in their heads in the first quarter, the game was all but yours. It’s not an unfamiliar concept. Lena knows that often it’s more about playing your opponent than the actual game - as she’s done in everything from a casual poker game to conducting high level mergers and acquisitions. But there’s something different about seeing it played out in realtime on a basketball court. 

It’s apparent rather quickly that in game five, with the championship on the line, the Lakehawks are dead set on demoralizing Gotham and then some. 

The first basket is a vicious alley-oop that Lucy throws towards Kara seconds after they’ve won the tipoff. Kara dunks the basket in over Barbara Gordon’s body and hangs there for a second longer than necessary, dropping down and running back with an expression as cold as steel. 

The entire game is like that. The Lakehawks look something close to flawless. Lena’s watched or at least seen highlights of nearly every game this season and she’s never seen them play like this. It’s like they’ve accessed some higher level of basketball. Every pass connects, impossible shots are dropping in easily, their defensive strategy has Gotham confused and reactionary, seemingly incapable of getting shots off or passes to their intended destination.

At the close of the first half, Lena stands and claps with everyone else as the Grenadiers gesture and grumble with each other as they walk off the court. The Lakehawks go sprinting down the tunnel, whooping and raising their arms. Kara gets stopped by the sideline reporter just in front of the foursome at courtside and though her expression remains as serious and lethal as Lena’s ever seen it, she can sense the smile lurking in Kara’s eyes. 

She can’t really hear what’s being said, the crowd’s so loud, but she can see Kara’s gaze land on her a few times, her hands on her hips. When the interview ends, Kara says goodbye to the reporter, who looks a bit starstruck as she jogs away, and gives a sweaty high-five to the four of them before jogging off and waving at the crowd.

By the fourth quarter the Lakehawks grip on the lead is so tight that Cat subs her bench in, sitting the starters for most of the quarter. Somewhere in that time, a staff member comes by and hands over badges for Lex, Lena, Jack and Lana that allow them on-court access, a bright smile on his face with promises that if all goes well he’ll set aside goggles for all of them for the locker room. 

Lena has no idea what that could mean and isn’t at all assured by the gleeful look in Lex’s eye. 

With two minutes left, Cat turns back to her starters and calls them back in, a triumphant smile on her face that’s oozing pride. Even though Gotham managed to shave a few points off their deficit, the Lakehawks still hold a strong position and there’s a sense in the air that victory is nigh. Kara, Alex, Lucy, Maggie and M’gann reenter the game as if they’re skipping to a victory tour.

The feeling of it is thrumming throughout the building, the cacophony of cheers rising so swiftly in volume as the players reenter the game that Lena feels deafened by it. 

Lena had been in the building when Kara and the United States won the gold medal, had felt so proud of her then - but this is something entirely different. Watching Kara take her home team to a huge victory - leading the squad with almost fifty points - after all the things she’s gone through this season, and especially with where they are in their relationship now?

She thought she was proud then. This is tenfold.

The last ten seconds feel like they take ten minutes with the way Lena focuses on the numbers counting down, watching Lucy take the ball over half and dribble it there, watching the time tick away, victory inching ever closer. Lex grabs ahold of her arm and squeezes hard, while Jack is jumping up and down. Lana has her hands clasped in front of her, leaning into Lex’s side as though she might hide her face at any second.

Kara’s at the corner of the arc, jostling lightly with Barbara who’s making a half-attempt to still mark her. Even as time winds down, and the Lakehawks have a sure handle on the game and the championship, Kara’s trying to get Lucy to pass her the ball.

The buzzer sounds, loud just above them. It’s over. The Lakehawks have won. 

It seems almost unreal. Lena knows the Lakehawks have won the championship twice before, but it takes a good minute for the realization that they’ve just won their third to really sink in.

Blue and white confetti pours down from the rafters over the entire court and the screaming crowd. Jack is still jumping up and down, absolutely losing his mind and Lena can’t stop clapping, staring up at the scoreboard marveling at the victory.

The court gets overrun by players, press and staff, and Lena’s drawn forward with them into the madness. Lex is jostling her into a hug and then Jack. Even Lana looks thrilled. It’s a mess of people, all of them exchanging congratulations. Even Eliza finds her amidst the throng of excitement and pulls her into a tight hug before moving on to find her daughters. 

Lena searches the pandemonium until she finds what she’s looking for, bright blue eyes connecting with hers across the crowd. Kara’s sweaty and disheveled, her hair coming out of her ponytail at the temples, and neck blotchy and red with exertion, but her smile is a mile wide and infectious and Lena needs to touch her.

It seems Kara’s on the same wavelength because she weaves through about seventeen people, pushes a reporter’s microphone away from her and beelines towards Lena, smile unwavering.

When Kara scoops her up into her arms she lets out a loud vibrant whooping sound into Lena’s ear, spinning her around once, before setting her down. “We did it!”

Lena laughs, basks in the victorious way Kara hugs her. There are cameras all around them, but Lena doesn’t care. Kara’s face buries in her shoulder and her arms are warm and tight around Lena’s back. Hidden against Kara’s shoulder, Lena smiles and kisses against the heated skin there, pride and joy bubbling up into her chest until it bursts.

They pull away to look at each other and Lena feels reality start to break into their little bubble, but she holds it at bay just a little longer, smiling at the triumph all over Kara’s face. Their gazes hold solidly together and Lena feels their connection like a thread between them. It makes every little thing that’s brought them to this moment feel worth it, like they’ve finally summited a mountain, like they really can have it all.

The picture will be all over the front page of the papers in the morning. A DYNASTY: LAKEHAWKS THREEPEAT in big bold letters and a full color photo of Kara and Lena holding each other and grinning widely. It’s a telling photo to Lena’s eyes, but not to many others. Years later it’ll be framed in Lena’s home office.

But for now, they just laugh with each other and let the cameras flash around them. “Congratulations,” Lena tells her and Kara’s eyes go soft the way they do when Lena whispers I love you.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Kara says with a big smile and Lena laughs.

“I know,” she teases. They’re interrupted by a loud round of cheers that disengages them from each other. Lena lets out a squeak when she’s picked up from behind by a laughing Lucy Lane, but smiles at the, “We did it, Luthor!” 

The celebrating continues on around them, infectious, as Lena’s embraced by the team, the staff, people she’s not sure she even knows. Kara gets swept away to an interview - a championship hat being tugged down on her head as the team gets handed their FINALS CHAMPS t-shirts. 

The trophy is heavy when Oliva Marsden - NWBA commissioner - hands it to Lena on a makeshift stage in the middle of the court. Lena’s surrounded by the team, Cat to her left with J’onn, Kara at her right, Alex with her arm slung over her shoulders. 

Lena had been prepared for the possibility she’d have to say a few words and she’s grateful she’d thought to sketch something out ahead of time because it’s like she blacks out the minute the weighty piece of metal is pushed into her hands. She’ll see a video of herself thanking the organization and fans days later, but she won’t remember most of it. 

All she can focus on is what the trophy looks like so close up - she’d seen two others behind glass near the front offices of the arena, but to hold one in her hands, to know they’ve earned it, is an entirely different experience. 

She says her piece, tries, and fails, not to look at Kara with an awed look of exhilaration, and then hands the trophy off to Cat who addresses the screaming crowd next. As she moves back, Kara wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close. It’s the position they’re in when the team photo becomes the cover of Sports Illustrated the following week, Cat lofting the trophy in the air with the team behind her. 

Then it’s Kara’s turn to receive her own award - Finals MVP - and Lena feels like she’s never cared about anything more than this moment and this team and winning. It’s addicting, she can tell. Just a taste of what this is like and she wants more, she wants the feeling to last forever. 

Kara thanks her teammates and the fans, eyes red rimmed as they break out into low chants of M-V-P . She holds both her trophies in her hands and lifts them up to the screams of the arena. 

Lena’s fairly sure nothing could top this moment in terms of pride and euphoria as everyone around them joins in on the chant and Kara holds the trophy up over her team, who all reach to touch it in jubilation. 

--

The insanity that follows is like nothing Lena’s ever experienced. 

There’s the never ending champagne showers in the locker room after the trophy ceremony - Lucy pouring an entire bottle over Lena’s head the moment she sees her, Kara standing up on the chair by her locker and spraying the entire room, Alex turning the music up so loudly they can barely hear anything else as the team breaks out into a chorus of we are the champions. 

Then the night that follows, the free drinks at club after club, more champagne, Lucy and Maggie pouring some out the window of one of the clubs to screaming fans below. It’s complete and utter chaos and Kara tugs her along for all of it. 

Lena doesn’t think to protest, just lets herself get wrapped up in the madness, in the way Kara keeps smiling and handing her drinks. It all feels so ridiculously good. 

It becomes an endless parade of celebration that so significantly blocks out anything apart from the Lakehawks from Lena’s mind that she doesn’t even think about being discreet when it comes to her relationship with Kara. 

How is she supposed to care about that when there’s a third championship to be celebrating, champagne to be had, and Kara’s smile to kiss?

It’s what outs them in the end - even though they won’t acknowledge anything officially for some time. 

She, Kara and Jack are lounging about Lena’s kitchen before heading out to dinner a week after the championship when Jack chortles loudly at something on his phone. It never portends anything good, Lena’s learned, and so she sighs, thinks about not rising to the bait. But Kara decides for them. 

“What’s up?” 

Jack looks up at both of them, a glint in his eye, before thrusting his phone in Lena’s direction, a picture under a tweet open on the screen. 

The photo is blurry, and dark, clearly taken in the middle of the night at a club Lena barely recognizes. It’s half-focused on Alex popping a huge champagne bottle, dressed as she was the night they won. In the background, the shine of Kara’s blonde hair is apparent with the flash of the cameras, even if the image isn’t clear. 

Not that anyone can make out her face anyway, the way it’s obscured by Lena, who’s clearly perched on her lap, gripping at Kara’s cheeks. Kara’s hand is more than halfway up the outside of Lena’s thigh, and they’re wound in each other enough that Lena can see why she’d have no memory of this picture being taken. 

Though Lena knows it’s her despite how grainy and indistinct the image is, she thinks for half a second that maybe no one else would be able to piece it together. They’ve had a stunning run of luck so far with pictures not naming her. But when Lena scrolls down, the mass of replies to the tweet tell a different story.

The caption is a simple, all caps I’M SORRY WHAT and the replies all follow a thread of is that LENA LUTHOR or more explicitly, FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE I AM NOT GOING TO BE SPEAKING ABOUT ANYTHING THAT IS NOT LENA LUTHOR AND KARA DANVERS MAKING OUT

Lena can’t help but laugh. As does Kara when she peers over Lena to see the photo, a cute little oops dropping out of her that has Lena rolling her eyes affectionately. 

“Lena, if you’re trying to be discreet you should really stop mounting your very famous girlfriend in public,” Jack says with a gleeful chuckle. “That’s like rule number one.” 

It’s Kara that huffs at him, though it’s through an indulgent smile as Lena passes the phone back towards him. “Hey, Jack?” Kara says, drawing his attention her way. “Shut up.” 

Lena laughs at the appalled look on Jack’s face, especially the way it deepens when she takes Kara’s chin in hand and kisses her. He does shut up, at the very least.