7. Chapter 7(1)

It takes some deliberation before Lena decides on what to bring for dinner to Kara’s that night.

The obvious solution to her indecision would be to call Kara and ask, but she feels oddly determined to choose herself and hope she gets it right.

She settles on something easy, something she’d seen Kara order before and sends it to George with a timeline of when she’ll head to Kara’s. The rest of the afternoon slogs by in a series of project meetings and a good hour of trying to put a dent in her inbox. It all feels like a slow slide until she sees Kara again.

When she’s finally done and heading home, a small portion of nerves returns to her stomach. She’s not sure there’s wisdom in electing to spend an evening at home alone with Kara. The confidence she tried to have earlier about being friends feels like it’s retreating inch by inch.

But she forces herself to suppress all of that and focus on changing out of her work clothes into something more appropriate for watching a basketball game with a former fuck buddy turned complicated mess of a friend.

Just thinking of it makes her shake her head at herself in the mirror and pour a calming glass of red wine. Regardless, it still takes her a half hour and sixteen outfit choices before she settles on a casual pair of black jeans and a top.

George picks her up precisely on time and there are two white bags full of hot takeout food waiting for her in the backseat. He gives her a reassuring smile that she tries to return and then dutifully drives her to Kara’s apartment building.

If she lingers a few moments inside the back of the car before entering the building, no one but George has to know.

By the time she’s ringing the doorbell, it occurs to her that Kara’s likely not in any position to be walking to the door. Or rather even if she tried to do so it’d probably take her fifteen minutes to get from the bedroom to the front hall.

But before Lena can think of a suitable solution, her phone is buzzing in the purse slung over her shoulder and she fumbles around with the food in her hands to fish it out.

It’s Kara.

“Hi,” Lena greets.

“It’s open,” Kara says. “I’d open it myself, but I don’t want you to die out there waiting for me.”

Lena laughs even though Kara’s voice sounds strained and self-pitying as she says it. “Just stay put,” Lena instructs, pushing the door open to the murmured sound of a television.

“I’m on the couch,” Kara’s voice calls out both over the phone and through the apartment. Lena disconnects the call and drops her phone back into her purse, striding through the front entryway towards the living room.

“Hey,” Lena greets, coming around the couch to set the bags of takeout on the table in front of Kara.

“Ooh, Maxwell’s,” Kara says, the smile on her face feeling like a reward for making the right food decision.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she says, depositing her purse on a side table covered with flowers and well wishes before taking a good look at Kara.

“Always,” Kara replies, shifting just slightly, but cringing as she does it.

There’s what looks like an ice pack inexpertly strapped around her waist and a blanket is slipping off her legs. Without thinking of it, Lena moves forward, settling Kara from moving too much with a hand to her shoulder as her other hand inspects the saran-wrap Kara’s used to keep the ice pack at her back.

“Do this yourself?” Lena muses, seeing how uneven the wrap is and the way the ice pack is all but slipping out of position every time Kara so much as breathes.

“I’d like to see you do better in my position,” Kara murmurs, pain making her sound grumpy and irritated.

“Here, let me fix it,” Lena offers, reaching out.

“Are you qualified to do this?” Kara asks even as she shifts enough to give Lena access.

“I have multiple degrees,” Lena says, airily enough that she gets Kara to smile. “You’re in good hands, I assure you.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Kara replies, softly enough that it hits against Lena’s chest.

Ignoring the feeling, Lena starts to pull off the wrap and the ice pack, working as best she can around Kara’s ginger movements.

“I wish the thing would just heal,” Kara says, a bit out of breath. “It’s a stupid bruise.”

“It’s barely been a week,” Lena tells her, trying to ignore how close they have to get just so Lena can place the ice pack at Kara’s back. It’s the closest they’ve been in what feels like forever. “You bruised your spine. These things take time.”

“I know,” Kara sighs, trying to sit up enough so Lena can get the wrap around her waist. It brings their faces abruptly close until Lena blinks and focuses on the task at hand, moving enough out of Kara’s airspace that kissing doesn’t feel like such an inevitability. “But I’m over it.”

“I can tell,” Lena says absently as she pays more attention to her movements.

“I can’t even shower myself yet,” she complains and that, at least, distracts Lena from the way her fingers keep brushing against Kara’s body. “My arms can’t go high enough to wash my hair without feeling like I’m being stabbed in the back and just standing for too long is a bitch.”

As she works at pulling the wrap off in repetitive circular motions, she glances at Kara. “That must be difficult,” she says, hoping it’s not a segue for Kara to ask for assistance.

“Alex helped me out,” Kara says, assuaging some of Lena’s worry. “And the team sends over a nurse and trainer every morning.”

“That’s good,” she replies without little else to say. Kara quiets down as Lena works at getting the last round of wrap off her. The ice pack has gone warm and from the feel of it, some time ago. Lena heads to the kitchen to find a replacement and returns with a smile.

“Not too tight,” Kara instructs, and Lena goes about wrapping her back up, trying to work as efficiently as possible.

It gets finished quickly enough, but not without making Lena feel a tad short of breath. It helps that she has something to focus on – setting out the takeout boxes and finding plates and utensils. As she does it, Kara turns the volume up on the television.

The game is already playing – a panel of talking heads doing the pregame show and Lena winces when they play a clip of Kara’s injury.

“I wish they’d stop showing that,” Kara grumbles, accepting the plate Lena’s handing her with a murmured thanks.

“It’s painful enough for me to watch,” Lena says, almost to herself as she watches the slow-motion replay of Kara’s fall. “I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

Lena can feel sudden scrutiny and turns to see Kara observing her, expression neutral, but eyes seeming to search for something. It makes her cheeks feel hot and she looks away from it with a short laughed out, “What?”

“Nothing,” Kara says immediately, shaking her head and laughing too. “Sorry I just – you’re right. It sucks to watch. It’s like I can feel it happen all over again.”

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, reaching out to put her palm over Kara’s knee. It’s meant to be a friendly, reassuring gesture, but her palm goes white hot immediately until she pulls it away almost too abruptly not be noticed.

Kara doesn’t seem keen to comment, for which Lena’s grateful. Instead, she gingerly reaches for a takeout box, taking care not to move her back too much and mumbles, “Thanks for dinner.”

“Any time,” Lena says softly, scooting just close enough to help Kara with the food, mindful of too much movement and hyper aware of every wince of pain Kara makes.

--

They find a comfortable eating position though Kara jokes a few times about Lena spoon-feeding her in a way that makes Lena both blush and glare at Kara.

When the game starts, they grow silent. Kara’s focus zones in intensely to the television where her team is huddled together under the basket and the starting lineups are flashing up on the screen. It’s undeniably odd to see the Lakehawks Starting Five and not see Kara’s name in the list.

As the players lineup around center court for tip-off, Kara makes a little noise. “Cat has Eve on Imra?”

Lena tries to make out what that means – sees Kara’s replacement, Eve Tessmacher, lining up next to a woman Lena vaguely remembers as Imra Ardeen. The memory is fuzzy with distance, but she can almost recall the night club in which she’d first run into Kara.

“Is that bad?” Lena asks as the referee throws the ball in the air between Alex and a tall woman with the name Ferris sewn into the back of the jersey.

Kara’s lips thin. “We’ll see,” she says, sounding nothing short of ominous.

The game starts slow and though Lena has not at all developed an interest in basketball for its own sake, she finds it intriguing to watch the game with Kara. She’s had the postgame rundown from Kara before – had likened it to a general picking apart battles won and lost – but it’s clear early on that the live version is different.

“Watch the baseline!” Kara shouts at the television, and Lena watches as a pass gets thrown right around Alex’s outstretched arm to a player running past Eve towards the hoop. It’s a perfect arc that ends in a basket and Cat screaming from the sideline as J’onn makes an instructive hand gesture behind her. “Come on guys.”

Lena stays silent for the most part, not having much to contribute to Kara’s nearly uninterrupted commentary for the entirety of the first half.

Kara must notice at some point because when the whistle blows, she looks over at Lena as if suddenly remembering someone else is with her. “Sorry,” she says looking genuinely contrite, her brow pulling down as she shifts gingerly on the couch into a new position.

“Do you need to get up?” Lena asks, sitting forward with her hands out as she watches Kara’s pained expression as she moves. They’d removed the ice pack in the middle of the second quarter and Lena wonders if there’s another one she should be getting out of the freezer.

“I just need to sit differently,” Kara says, blowing out a low breath as she finally stills again. “This sucks.”

“Maybe you should reconsider your stance on pain medication,” Lena says with a pointed arch of her brow. The half-time panel starts to talk on the TV and Lena stands, gathering the remains of their dinner up from the coffee table.

Kara makes a whiny little noise that makes Lena have to smother a smile. “Maybe I just need a drink,” Kara counters in a pitiful voice that makes Lena look over, a tad alarmed until she sees the teasing look on Kara’s face.

“That’s the last thing you need. Didn’t you have a concussion?” Lena asks, shifting around the couch and bringing the dishes and empty boxes into the kitchen.

“A mild one,” Kara grumbles, just barely audible as Lena walks away.

She goes about cleaning up, the boxes to the trash and the dishes into the dishwasher. As she’s pulling out dishwashing soap and a sponge and moving around Kara’s kitchen, it occurs to her quite suddenly how comfortable it all feels.

The realization settles heavily on her chest and she has to stop a moment to take a breath. The sudden cessation of movement must be noticeable because Kara’s voice rings out. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lena says, smiling even though Kara can’t see her. “Just – where do you keep dish towels?”

Lena knows exactly where they are, but Kara must not realize that because she answers it easily. “Two drawers down to the left of the sink.”

“Thanks.”

Dinner disposed of, Lena paces quickly back into Kara’s bedroom, tries to ignore the cluttered messy look of it, and swipes the pill bottles off the bedside table before returning to the living room.

“In case you change your mind,” Lena says, setting the pills down on the coffee table and inspecting them to make out which one is actually the pain medication. It’s the first time in what feels like ages she’s been grateful to have had a mother with a medical degree.

“I won’t,” Kara says sounding as stubborn as a young child. It makes Lena roll her eyes. “I have a ridiculously high pain tolerance.”

“Don’t bite your nose to spite your face,” Lena says as she turns to the television and watches the first half highlights play there. The Lakehawks are down five points – a fact that’s likely contributing to Kara’s mood.

The second half doesn’t get much better. The Lakehawks look like what they are: a team adjusting to the loss of their star player, the lynch pin in their well-oiled machine. Kara’s mood sours as the score becomes more and more lopsided, her commentary spiraling off in exasperation.

In the fourth quarter, after the Lakehawks go on a 13-1 run to bring the score closer just to lose momentum and give up 10 uncontested points, Kara finally relents. “You’re right,” she says out of nowhere.

Lena turns, confused. “About?”

“My pain meds,” Kara says in a strained voice as she tries to shift position for what feels like the fifth time in the last ten minutes. “I should take some.”

Lena watches the pain play on her face, wishes there were something more concrete she could be doing. “I’ll get you a glass of water,” she says softly before standing to pace to the kitchen.

Kara takes her pills as the final minutes wind down on the Lakehawks loss and the camera shows a close up of Cat shooting a steely look at Alex who couldn’t seem to hit a shot for much of the second half. The camera cuts away just as J’onn moves forward and pulls Cat’s attention away.

“Should have put Vasquez in to guard Donna. I don’t know what Cat was thinking,” Kara says, a displeased frown on her face.

Lena watches as the postgame analysis crew comes on screen and the points breakdown comes up in a flashy graphic. Curiosity gets the better of her. “Why’s that?”

“Hmm?” Kara looks over, clearly a tad confused as to why this is the point in Kara’s gamelong commentary that Lena needs clarification for.

Lena can understand that, but she pushes on. “What do you mean? How would that have changed anything?”

Something amused slides across Kara’s face. “Are you asking me to teach you about basketball?”

Suddenly embarrassed, Lena rolls her eyes with a click of her tongue. “Forget I asked.”

“No, no,” Kara protests, though she chuckles as she says it. “I just think it’s cute.”

Lena makes a face that only has Kara laughing more fully. “Instant regret.”

Laughter tapering off, Kara shifts a bit, but doesn’t wince in the way she had earlier. “It’s like we’ve come full circle. Dinner at home and Lena Luthor asking me for my brilliant insight into the holy game of basketball.”

“Good to see the pain meds are kicking in,” Lena says dryly and Kara smiles, her head hitting the cushion a bit and Lena’s reminded suddenly of post-coital cups of coffee on this very couch, of the exhausted, but happy way Kara would look, the lingering flush to her skin, the way her hair would be messily piled on top of her head.

Lena aches for it in an indescribable way that has her stretching her palms out against her thighs.

“Can I tell you something?” Kara says softly after a few beats of silence.

There’s an ominous pickup in her heartbeat, but Lena affects a friendly smile and faces Kara. “Of course.”

A moment’s hesitation before Kara says, “I’m bummed.”

Her brows pull down, but before she can say that’s to be expected, Kara clarifies the statement with a quiet, “About us.”

Silence drops around them and Lena can’t do much but blink at Kara, wonder how the hell she’s supposed to respond to that.

All she can think to say is a soft, “Kara,” that sounds something between agreement and warning.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Kara says, and Lena notices the droopy way her eyes are falling, the way her body is sinking into the cushions. “I respect that. I’m just – I guess I just – just consider this my formal complaint.”

The petulant way Kara says it actually makes Lena laugh despite the way her heart feels like it might beat straight out of her chest. “Maybe you should get to a bed,” Lena says, sitting up and trying to decide if she even has the strength to help Kara towards the bedroom.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Kara says hastily, her hand hovering in the air between them as if she’s going to touch Lena. It stops abruptly, likely because Lena darts away from it, and a sad expression takes hold of Kara’s face that Lena wants to soothe away instinctively.

“You didn’t,” Lena denies, but Kara’s frown deepens.

“I am glad to be your friend. I just…” her voice trails off a moment, her eyes sleepy as they observe Lena and a dissonant smile crosses her lips. “Whatever, you already know how I feel.”

I’m in love with you too, rings so clearly across her memory that Lena feels deafened by it.

Throat dry, she stands from the couch. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Kara seems seconds from passing completely out, but she’s able to stand up with Lena’s assistance, and together they get the walker Kara’s been issued in front of her. It’s slow work, but Lena follows closely behind as they shuffle towards the bedroom.

“Are you going to be okay?” Lena asks quietly after getting Kara into the bed and shuffling around some of the mess left littered across the room.

“Yeah. Alex said she’d call after the game,” Kara says, her voice slow and deep. “Nurse and trainer at six.”

“That’s good,” she says, fidgeting with the sheet over Kara’s legs a moment before turning to leave.

A hand darts out to capture her own and Kara halts her at the side of the bed. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

Something more powerful than the nerves catching in her throat has her squeezing Kara’s hand back and turning to sit down on the mattress by Kara’s hip. “You didn’t,” she says firmly, keeping Kara’s glossy gaze. “I promise.”

“I do really want to be friends,” Kara insists. “I just had to say it one more time.”

It feels final in a way that makes Lena’s eyes burn. “I want to be friends too.”

“It means a lot to me that you came over,” Kara says, her speech starting to sound slurry.

Blue eyes flutter closed as she says it, sleep clearly pulling Kara under against her will and Lena takes a deep breath, throat achy.

“You mean a lot to me,” she admits into the quiet of the bedroom before releasing Kara’s slack hand, checking that she has what she needs and pacing out of the bedroom.

As quickly as she can, she cleans up the mess left in the living room, checks on Kara one last time before calling George and making as discreet an exit as possible.

Lena’s not sure what to do with the contradicting feelings twirling in her head. Her resistance to Kara had ebbed away nearly completely in the course of the evening, and she wishes she were more frightened by it.

--

It’s hard to get Kara’s forlorn expression out of her head, but she manages. Makes it through the next sequence of days business as usual. The Lakehawks have a stretch of days without a game after returning from their road trip before they face Coast City at home.

As is their routine, she and Jack meet for dinner and go through the usual motions. The unsettling thought of attending a Lakehawks game in which Kara isn’t part of the lineup hasn’t really worn off and she spends most of dinner and pregame drinks wondering about Kara. What she’s doing, who she might be watching with, what she’s feeling. It’s such a persistent curiosity that she finds herself texting Kara just before tip-off.

Are you watching the game?

Kara’s response is quick. Winn got the night off to come watch with me.

That’s nice, Lena returns as the ref throws the ball in the air and the Lakehawks take possession.

You?

Front and center as always.

Let me know if you need any help understanding the game , Kara texts, punctuating the sentence with a series of laughing emojis that makes Lena purse her lips.

Very funny.

Kara’s response this time is in the form of a selfie taken from high above Kara’s head so that the ice pack wrapped to her back is visible. The shot also includes the tense line of Kara’s neck and shoulder muscles and Lena swallows as she opens it, shields it a bit from Jack’s view as if it were scandalous. Winn doesn’t have your ice wrapping skills is the caption and Lena laughs.

Maybe it’s the vodka soda she’s had or the safety of engaging in this conversation over text, but Lena’s all set to respond I can come fix it later as if it were instinct before Jack’s leaning closer suddenly and she has to shift her phone from his view.

“You know, the papers might notice if you’re on your phone the whole game,” Jack whispers in her ear, his arm slung behind her on the back of her chair.

It startles Lena away from her phone screen and she elbows Jack in the ribs as subtle as possible before dropping her phone into the purse under her seat. “Shut up, Jack,” she murmurs, but she smiles at him and feels almost comfortable as she focuses back on the game.

--

The Lakehawks manage to win, though just barely, and after the game she and Jack head to their usual spot for a postgame drink.

Kara had texted her through much of the game with little comments about plays and at one point an instruction to tell Alex to stop going for corner 3s. Lena’s responses had been infrequent, but enough to encourage Kara to keep sending them and she finds the re-emergence of their texting to be somewhat comforting. It’s friendly in a way that starts to stitch together parts of her heart.

That is until Kara sends a you looked good on TV just as the bartender is setting down her glass of Bailey’s and Lena feels her tongue go dry.

It’s the kind of text that would usually be followed by an agreement to meet up and where. It’s the kind of text that’d make Lena cross her legs and look forward to what the night could bring.

But now, she doesn’t know how to react to it – thinks maybe having Kara actually taking her pain medication was making the other woman a tad too loose lipped – and then she tries valiantly to convince herself that Kara didn’t mean it that way.

So she settles for a friendly thanks and puts her phone away for the rest of the night.

There’ll be an adjustment period, Lena realizes. It won’t be easy to be friends and not read into every situation. At least not at first. It’ll get better.  

They’ll be friends and...it’ll get better.

--

Part way through the week, the Lakehawks Instagram breaks a two-week silence on Kara’s rehabilitation and posts a picture of her in physical therapy. In a pair of loose grey Lakehawks sweat-shorts and a white tank top, Kara makes a show of walking through a set of two bars meant to assist her.

Her arms strain as she moves slowly, but confidently, and at the end, she manages to take another four careful steps unassisted until she’s smiling, exhausted at the camera and giving it a thumbs up.

Lena watches it several times, enjoys the happy, accomplished look Kara has at the end and laughs a bit at Winn’s caption.

Doing better? Lena texts her before thinking twice of it.

Minutes later, she gets a response in the form of a selfie. It’s clearly the Lakehawks training room if the giant Lakehawks logo on the wall behind Kara is anything to go by. She’s smiling at the camera, chin lifted as she sits on the corner of one the many beds in the room. Still really sore, but walking is awesome.

It makes Lena want to go celebrate the achievement, to go bask in the way Kara’s probably thriving on getting one step closer to back on the court. But instead she sends a few thumbs up emojis and allows herself to sink into a vicarious kind of good mood.

--

Throughout her tenure as the owner of the team, Lena’s had to give a few interviews here and there. First, when she’d just taken over ownership and then as the season went on and a reporter would catch her after a game or at an event.

It’s not something new to her life, but she can’t deny that the first time she’s stopped to answer a question regarding Kara’s injury, she finds herself startled.

The question is a soft ball. A gentle inquiry into Kara’s recovery process and a reach for Lena’s own reaction to the injury. But Lena can’t help but feel the question too personal to really answer. For half a second, there’s paranoia over why anyone might ask her at all. It’s an absurd feeling, one she manages to suppress with a smile on her face.

Falling back on years of training in the art of polite bullshit, Lena answers as professionally as possible.  “Kara is the face of this franchise. The Lakehawks will do whatever it takes to see to it that she’s fully recovered.”

“How are you feeling about the playoff chances without Kara in the lineup? The Lakehawks certainly haven’t looked like themselves without her.”

Lena tries hard not to react to the question, though it’s hard. It’s not as if she has any wise words about the practical basketball effects Kara’s injury has on the Lakehawks. “We’ll jump that hurdle when we come to it,” she answers, knowing at the very least that they have a couple weeks left until the regular season is over. She’d have to be dumb, deaf and stupid not to know that much. It’s all the television and news outlets have been talking about.

“There has to be some nerves here,” the reporter insists, goading her. “This used to be Kara’s team after all and –”

“It’s still Kara’s team,” Lena answers before she can help it. “She’s not dead.”

The reporter looks taken aback that it was that simple to get a soundbite out of her and Lena internally groans at herself. Regaining composure, she puts a smile back on. “Don’t count the Lakehawks out just yet,” she says in a more even tone and with a dismissive nod of her head, she paces quickly away from him.

--

Kara texts her later: happy to hear I haven’t died.

It takes seconds of searching, but Lena finds the middle finger emoji in the small keyboard on her phone and sends Kara an entire line of them. Kara returns several emojis with their tongues out.

She receives a message from an unknown number a few days later: You give good soundbite, sis.

She decides to reuse her middle finger emoji with Lex as well.

--

The next away game is in Dallas. Lena catches the Lakehawks social media showing stat lines and pictures of the players boarding the usual plane that morning. It’s yet another instance of Kara’s absence being unnervingly noticeable.

There’s no normal shot of Kara waving at the camera, bag slung across her back and perfectly pressed outfit drawing all eyes her way. Instead, it’s a series of Alex and Lucy striding across the tarmac with sunglasses obscuring their faces. Maggie is right behind them, uncharacteristically grinning at the camera, though the expression falls short of genuine and seems more out of mockery than anything.

M’gann is there too, huddled next to Eve and seeming to be talking to her about something intently. Cat paces behind them, looking ridiculously put together and focused intensely on two phones – one at her ear and the other in her hands.

Lena finds the picture to be incomplete without Kara’s form and it’s what has her texting Kara over her lunch hour. Are you watching the game tonight?

It takes a bit for Kara to answer, but she sees the message later after she’s getting out of a meeting and heading to the labs to go over a project. You can come over if you bring food.

A smile tugs her lips, makes her feel warm. Indian okay?

Kara sends back about fifteen emojis and it’s only Lena’s wealth of experience in deciphering Kara Danvers Text Speech that lets her know it’s a positive response.

--

This time, when Lena shows up at Kara’s door, it’s Sara Lance that’s exiting. Lena practically jumps back, her hand hovering over the doorbell as Sara swings it open and they both startle.

“Lena!” Sara greets, her smile surprised, but genuine. She strides forward and captures Lena in a hug as if they’re old friends.

It only takes a moment for Lena to remember her manners, but she does. “Sara, hi. I didn’t realize the Evergreens were in town,” she says.

“Skippers tomorrow,” Sara says. “Have to do KD here a solid and keep them out of the playoffs.”

“Is that likely to happen?”

Sara shrugs, but there’s something smug about her smile and she closes the door behind them until they’re both out in the hallway. “I’ve seen stranger happen. And with Kara out for the rest of the regular season, the whole playoff picture got kind of shuffled.”

“Ah, I see,” Lena says, nodding and wondering why Sara felt the need to keep them here outside the apartment. The careful scrutiny on Sara’s face is beginning to unnerve her.

“So, what are you doing here?” Sara asks, and it could sound casual, but Lena catches something intent in the question. Sara’s eyes dart to the brown paper bags in Lena’s hand. “Bringing Superstar dinner?”

“Yes,” Lena responds succinctly, unsure what she’s going to do if Sara inquires further.

“Nice of you,” Sara says, and they nod in time with each other, an awkwardness making Lena shift her feet.

“Well, it’s certainly the least I can do,” Lena says in a practiced way that sounds too much like her mother.

Sara smiles, folds her arms over her chest. “It’s nice the two of you are friends. I love Moira Queen like she was my mother, but I can’t imagine being at a club with her or the like,” she says, and Lena fights the feeling that Sara’s out to trap her. Sara pauses then, makes a considering look before adding, “Actually Moira can get down, maybe I can.”

There’s some measure of comfort in the fond way Sara’s smiling and Lena returns the expression. “Kara’s easy to befriend,” Lena says, and almost immediately regrets it. It sounds too telling, and Sara’s smile turns from fond to something more lecherous.

“Oh, I know,” she says conspiratorially, and Lena feels a usual spike of jealousy when confronted with Kara’s considerable past.

“I’m sure you do,” Lena says. It comes out even, but she knows Sara hears the disdain in her voice.

But instead of rising to it, Sara laughs, uncrosses her arms to lay one on Lena’s bicep. “You worry too much,” she says as if speaking to something unspoken.

“I’m sorry?”

Sara shrugs, this time her smile is more casual, affectionate even. “Kara’s one of the good ones,” she says, and Lena nearly bristles.

“I know that.”

Sara’s smile widens. “Good.”

It’s all the other girl says before winking and moving past Lena to stride down the hallway. “Bye,” Lena says under her breath, a bit put off by the entire interaction.

“Goodbye, Lena,” Sara shouts out over her shoulder as she rounds the corner.

It startles Lena. She didn’t think Sara would have heard her.

With a deep breath and a shake of her head, she pushes the conversation from her mind and reaches out to open the door. It swings open to reveal Kara a few paces away, shuffling with her walker towards the door.

“Kara, what on earth?” Lena says, moving quickly forward to set the bags down just inside the door and come up in front of Kara.

“I thought I heard Sara say your name, but then you never came in so I just – I thought –” Kara’s words chop off abruptly and her cheeks go pink as she looks away from Lena.

It doesn’t occur to her immediately where Kara was going with that, but when it does Lena laughs. “I assure you, Miss Lance’s charms don’t work on me.”

“That’s not –” Kara chokes on the words a bit, her flush intensifying in a way that makes Lena’s stomach flip inappropriately. “I just didn’t want you to get trapped by her. She can be a lot.”

“She was fine,” Lena dismisses, trying to steer Kara towards the couch. “Why don’t you sit down, and we can have dinner?”

“She didn’t say anything weird, did she?” Kara asks, though she follows Lena’s lead and shuffles towards the couch. She’s walking noticeably better. Almost as if she didn’t need any assistance, but Lena’s grateful Kara’s not overdoing it. “She can be weird sometimes.”

“I said it was fine,” Lena says with a laugh.

Kara makes a noise like she doesn’t quite believe Lena, but doesn’t comment further, just makes her way to the couch and sits down with only a slight groan. It’s an improvement from the last time she saw her, to be sure.

“How are you feeling?” Lena asks after she retrieves the food from the front entryway and drops it on the table.

“Better,” Kara says, and she sounds bright with the prospect of improvement. “I walked by myself the other day.”

“I saw,” she replies, pulling cartons out of the bags. At Kara’s inquisitive look she adds, “Instagram.”

“Oh,” Kara laughs. “Winn and his camera.”

“You looked good,” Lena says and rolls her eyes at Kara’s pleased expression. “I meant walking.”

“Sure you did,” Kara says, with an exaggerated wink.

It’s overtly flirtatious and as Lena sits down and hands Kara a carton of food, she takes a deep breath.

“Kara,” she starts, the seriousness of the word pulling her gaze over. “I think we should set some boundaries.”

“This sounds familiar,” Kara replies, slowly setting the food in her lap.

“I just think,” Lena looks away, tries to find the right way to say this. “If we’re going to be friends, maybe we should…”

As her words trail off, she looks back to see some realization spread on Kara’s face. “Be careful about how we talk to each other,” Kara finishes and Lena nods. That’s as good a version of how she feels as she can think of.

“Yeah, set some ground rules so we don’t get things confused.”

“Because that worked so well the first time around,” Kara says dryly, and Lena sighs.

“Maybe that’s a reason why we shouldn’t hang out right now,” Lena says. “It’s all too fresh.”

Kara’s lips thin and she shifts up a bit. “I think we’re fine,” she says in a confident way Lena feels incapable of not believing. “I think pretending like our feelings don’t exist is what makes it hard.”

“I’m not pretending -” Lena starts, but Kara cuts her off with a look.

“I understand you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I even understand that you don’t want to date me or be anything other than friends. I get it,” Kara says sounding nothing like she actually understands Lena’s position, but is going along with it nonetheless. “But let’s not sit around like we both didn’t declare our love in some form or another.”

It sinks so heavily against her chest Lena’s breath catches when she inhales. The serious look Kara has pulls Lena in and she doesn’t know how to reply other than a softly delivered, “Okay.”

“I’m going to act the same way around you because we’re the same people,” Kara continues. “It doesn’t have to mean anything other than that. It’s not some...it doesn’t change anything. It’s just how you and me are.”

“That feels like it’s just asking for trouble,” Lena points out and Kara shrugs a shoulder.

“Maybe that’s because you overthink things too much,” she says and Lena’s shoulder deflates as she rolls her eyes into a laugh. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” she replies.

“Look, was avoiding me all the time that much fun?”

“No.”

“And do you really want to spend all our time together thinking over every word you say to me so I don’t get the wrong idea?”

Lena sighs. “No.”

"And you want to be friends, right?" 

"Yes," Lena replies, unable to deny the irresistible pull she has to keep Kara in her life. 

“There you go,” Kara says, with a nod like she’s just solved all their problems. “I know where we stand, Lena. You don’t have to worry about that.”

There’s that finality again. It pushes the breath out of her for a short moment. “Okay, you’re right,” she says with a soft smile, wanting to buy into what Kara’s saying, wanting it to get better.

“Just relax,” Kara says, stretching her hand out as much she can to set it on Lena’s forearm. The warmth of it shoots up her arm and spreads over her chest. “Relax and we'll just be you and me.”

Lena decides that for once maybe she will relax, stop overthinking every excruciating detail. “I think I can do that,” she says and Kara beams at her.

“Settled then?”

“Settled,” Lena says with a nod.

Kara retracts her hand and picks up the carton of food in her lap. “Good. I’m starving.”

“Shocking,” Lena deadpans and when Kara laughs and winks again, Lena just grins back and sinks into the couch cushions.

--

The game goes much as it did before. Kara spends her time shoveling food into her mouth and yelling at her team from the couch. It’s clear by the enthusiastic way Kara watches the game that she’s feeling better. There are still winces and grimaces of pain, but they’re much less frequent than they had been before.

The Lakehawks have managed to fall into some kind of rhythm without Kara. The style of play isn’t as smooth as before – even Lena’s untrained eye can see that much – but it seems to work for them.

“Eve’s playing better,” Kara comments at one point as they watch Eve hit a contested three.

“Is she?”

“Yeah,” Kara answers absently, eyes intent on the game. “Why aren’t we in zone defense right now?”

Lena looks back at the game. She’s managed to pick up the basics of basketball by sheer exposure, but some of the more finer elements have eluded her. “No idea,” she says, pretending she knows what Kara means.

Apparently, she doesn’t pretend well enough because Kara looks over with an amused expression. “Sorry, I forget you’re allergic to sports.”

“I am not,” Lena protests, indignant.

“Just basketball then.”

“Clearly untrue considering how much time I’ve spent with the sport’s biggest player,” Lena says, eyes drifting upward in exasperation.

Kara’s hand goes exaggeratedly to her chest. “Flattered as always that you think so highly of me,” she teases.

“Isn’t that just objective truth?” Lena says with a grumpy lilt to her voice.

Kara laughs. “Actually,” she says, pointing at Lena with her fork. “A lot of people would say Clark is the better player.”

It’s a surprising anecdote and though Kara’s moved past it to focus back on the screen, Lena feels curious. “Really?”

Chewing, Kara looks over again just as Lucy gets a shot blocked under the basket. “Yeah,” she says, with a shrug. “He holds a lot of records in his league.”

“That’s…” Lena can’t help but look thoughtful as amusement plays across Kara’s face. “I didn’t know that.”

Kara shrugs, takes another forkful of food and shifts a little with a grimace. “I’ll break them all eventually,” she says. It’s spoken with the kind of confidence so wrapped up in the appeal of Kara Danvers. “He’s just been in the game longer. People don’t think about that.”

“You also don’t play the same position,” Lena adds and it’s Kara’s turn to look surprised.

“I’m impressed you know that,” she says, and Lena rolls her eyes. “What? I am.”

“I just don’t think it’s fair to compare you two.”

“And yet people are going to keep doing it forever probably,” Kara says, sounding just bitter enough to pull a sympathetic smile across Lena’s face. It feels a lot like the way she talks about her brother. Far off as he may be, his shadow will likely always loom. “The biggest difference between us is that I win games,” she says matter-of-factly and at Lena’s arched brow she adds, “You can have as many scoring records as you want, but it means nothing if you’re not winning championships.”

Lena considers that, nods as the truth of it becomes apparent and Kara laughs softly.

“Basketball’s a team sport,” she says, and Lena acknowledges that with a smile.

“That much, I do know.”

“Good,” Kara says with a wide smile. “You’ve got the basics down.”

Lena thinks to shove Kara but stops just short of it.

--

The Lakehawks win in a hard-fought overtime, though Kara doesn’t catch it all. She falls asleep sometime late in the fourth, about twenty minutes after she takes her pain meds, slouching over towards Lena’s shoulder until Lena has no choice but to shift enough to catch her.

Lena stays and watches the rest of the game, is grateful for Kara’s tiny snores into her shoulder. From what Kara’d told her earlier – I haven’t been sleeping great with the pain – Lena’s glad she’s getting some sleep in now, even if it isn’t the most orthodox.

When the game is over, Lena does her best to move without waking Kara, actually manages to get her into a comfortable enough position and wakes her up just enough to remove the ice pack they’d put on her after the half. It’s warm now and easily plied out of the wrap Kara’s got around her waist.

“You leaving?” Kara mumbles, stretched out across the couch and barely awake. Her eyes are only half open, a soft twist to her lips as she tries to focus on Lena.

Lena’s already cleaned up their mess from dinner and is in the process of pulling a blanket over Kara’s body. Her hair is all over the place, but she looks adorable. It reminds Lena of how she looked waking up in bed in Tokyo, tired and happy.

“Yeah,” Lena whispers, wondering how friendly it would be to sit at Kara’s hip and stroke her hair until she falls back asleep. Probably not very, no matter how much she wants to.

“Did we win?” Blue eyes suddenly become a bit more lucid as they dart to the now quiet television.

“Yes,” Lena laughs, and Kara deflates back into the cushions. “Do you want to move to your bed?”

Kara shakes her head, licking out against her lips sleepily. “This is fine,” she says and Lena nods, but finds herself lingering by the couch, not ready to leave. She wants to sit down again and feel Kara’s warmth bleed against her, wants to brush her fingers along Kara’s eyebrows when she frowns in pain.

“Okay,” she says, forcing herself to get moving lest she fall onto the couch and curl into Kara’s body. “Sleep well.”

“Hey,” Kara says, darting her hand out and capturing Lena’s, just like before. Startled, Lena wonders if yet another emotional confrontation is about to happen, but all Kara says is, “Thank you.”

“Any time,” Lena says.

Kara gives her a sleepy half-smile that every inch of Lena screams to kiss. She settles for twining their fingers together instead, squeezing and feeling Kara squeeze back. She’s weak enough that she waits until she’s sure Kara is asleep before she leaves.

--

Thai tonight? Is what she receives somewhere around midday the next Lakehawks away game. She’s agreeing before she has a chance to think about it, really. She doesn’t bother knocking when she gets to Kara’s.

“Hey,” Kara says from where she’s apparently nested for the day on the couch. “How was work?”

“Well, my mother called from Prague with her laundry list of things I’m doing poorly this quarter,” Lena says.

“So, great,” Kara says with a laugh, her smile twinging a little when she turns to look at Lena.

“I’m thankful that it’s over,” Lena says. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” Kara says. Her smile is a bit dopey, but it’s endearing. “I’m trying to find my ideal Kart combination.”

There is indeed some cartoonish racing game on Kara’s massive television, paused mid-race. Lena can’t help but laugh.

“Jack and Lana and I used to play that as a drinking game in college,” Lena says. Kara snorts, shifting slowly so that she faces the television again and pressing play.

“Were you any good?” Kara asks, as Lena starts to pull plates and napkins from various sources in Kara’s kitchen and makes quick work of unpacking their dinner.

“Lana once threw her controller at my head because I swept nine races in a row,” Lena says, shrugging. Kara laughs loudly as Lena arrives at the couch with their food. “It was particularly impressive because the winner had to do shots.”

“Why would the winner have to do shots?”

Lena shrugs, can’t remember what their reasoning was other than some version of, “To keep the playing field even, I suppose.”

Kara finishes her race nearly as soon as Lena sits down, and she absentmindedly switches inputs on Kara’s television over to the Lakehawks pregame. By the time she’s handed over Kara’s plate without looking and glanced up, Kara is watching her with that same dopey smile on her face.

“What?” Lena asks. It’s a foolish question, a fact that settles harshly in her chest. Lena can read Kara’s face clear as day.

“I - ” Kara starts, but then shakes her head a little. “Nothing. Thank you for dinner.”

--

It somehow becomes a routine in the same way their trysts had fallen into. Nights of Lakehawks games mean texts with Kara about what to have for dinner and quick exchanges in which Lena reminds Kara that no she can’t have wine while she’s on pain medication no matter how much Kara thinks it will help her back.

George picks up whatever takeout Kara’s requested that night and ferries Lena over to Kara’s apartment building.

Kara’s rehab is progressing. Not as quickly as Kara’d like, that’s certain, but she’s getting there. Walking has started to become easier and easier and though she still can’t sit or stand for long periods of time, she’s able to walk at a relatively normal pace and without the help of her walker – a fact Kara was so delighted by Lena had to convince her not to throw the contraption out her bedroom window.

Internal reports have Kara back for the first series of the playoffs and a certain buzz starts to swim around the front office.

Though Kara’s mobility is great news for the Lakehawks, it’s somehow complicated Lena’s life in ways she didn’t think to anticipate.

It changes the dynamic of their hangouts. Kara’s not chained to a seat or to her bed while Lena moves about the apartment. Now, as Lena works on pulling plates out of kitchen cabinets and utensils out of drawers, Kara’s able to idle in the periphery, standing propped against the counter.

“Should you be standing so much?” Lena asks, glancing out of the side of her eyes and trying not to react to the hot feel of scrutiny.

“It helps,” Kara answers, plucking a green bean out of the plastic container set out on the counter.

It might help Kara, but it’s distracting Lena to the point she nearly drops a plate and Kara laughs at her.

“Am I bothering you?”

“No,” Lena responds quickly, sending Kara an unimpressed look.

“Sorry,” Kara says, sounding anything but. There’s a cheeky lilt to her lips that Lena realizes she hasn’t seen in a long time. Though it makes her cheeks feel flushed, it warms in her chest just as much.

“You seem pleased today,” she comments

“It’s a good back day,” Kara replies jovially. “My PT says I’m way ahead of schedule.”

“That’s great,” Lena says genuinely, looking up and allowing the smile on Kara’s face to tug a similar expression across her own.

“Yeah, there’s a chance I could be back just in time for the playoffs.”

“I’d heard the same myself.”

“Couldn’t come a day too soon. I think I’ve been going stir crazy.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Lena warns, worried Kara’s eagerness to get back to playing could end up jeopardizing her recovery.

“I’m not,” Kara says, holding her hands up defensively.

Before Lena can say more, the doorbell rings out loudly through the apartment and they both jolt, looking towards the door as if it will reveal who is standing outside.

“Are you expecting someone?” Lena asks.

“No,” Kara says, and she makes to move towards the door, but Lena stops her with a hand on her bicep.

“I’ll get it.”

A glance at the security panel next to Kara’s front door reveals the visitor and Lena finds herself staring at the grainy video image of one Clark Kent.

“Who is it?” Kara asks in a whisper as she slowly comes up behind Lena.

“Your cousin,” Lena answers in a hushed voice, turning to gauge Kara’s reaction.

Her face shutters in a way that has Lena reaching for her hand without thinking. “Do you want me to tell him to go away?”

Kara hesitates, looks like she might even take Lena up on the offer, but instead reaches out and unlocks the door.

Before Lena can think to retreat back into the apartment the door is opening, and Clark Kent is standing there, looking clean-cut and tall and ever the picture of the All American Boy. His well-cut jeans and leather jacket look plain in an inoffensive way and Lena can make out the small features of his face that look so much like Kara.

“Clark,” Kara greets, sounding somehow completely warm and also closed off at the same time. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Hey, Kara,” Clark says, and he steps forward to press a careful, familial kiss to Kara’s cheek.

A glance to Lena has Kara hastily introducing them. “Clark, this is Lena,” she says, gesturing forward and Clark turns on a smile Lena’s seen on more than one advertisement.

“Lena Luthor, yes,” Clark says, holding his hand out. “I knew Lex fairly well.”

It’s the first Lena’s hearing it, but that’s Lex for you. “Did you? I’m sorry to say I never heard much of you,” she replies, taking his hand and putting on the smile she usually reserves for hostile takeovers.

It’s an instinctive reaction more than anything. Something in her can’t shake the story Kara had told her, the sad, forlorn way she’d talked about Clark all those years ago. How much she had wished Clark had been there for her.

Kara may not hold a grudge, but Lena’s not as nice.

“Well come in,” Kara says hastily, shooting Lena a look as Clark walks between them and into the apartment. Lena shrugs, unrepentant, but puts on a look of innocence that, judging by Kara’s eye roll, isn’t that convincing.

“Would you like me to go?” Lena nonetheless asks under her breath as Clark paces out of hearing distance into the kitchen.

Kara hesitates, but takes Lena’s hand. “I’d rather you stay, if you don’t mind.”

With a squeeze to Kara’s fingers, Lena smiles as reassuring as she can. “Whatever you need.”

They join Clark in the kitchen, Kara moving quicker than she had been before as if trying to cover up any sign of injury for her cousin. It isn’t until Lena gives her an admonishing look that she slows it down.

“What brings you by, cuz?” Kara asks, reaching into the fridge to pull out a beer and hold it up for Clark’s inspection.

He waves the drink off and takes a seat at the long expansive counter of Kara’s kitchen. “I’ve got a shoot in the morning for a new Nike ad,” he explains. “Thought it was a good opportunity to stop by, see how you’re doing.”

“I’m great,” Kara replies, standing up straighter than she probably should be and smiling at her cousin. “How are you?”

“Great,” he parrots, a skeptical look on his face at Kara’s sunny demeanor.

“Super great, even,” Kara says. “I’m doing great.”

“I guess you’re on the good drugs, then,” he says, glancing over at Lena with a grin Lena’s seen plastered on Monarchs promotional material and Nike commercials that sometimes run during the Lakehawks games. It’s boyish and charming and Lena can understand his clean-cut appeal.

“A lumbosacral bone bruise certainly qualifies for the good stuff,” Lena says, and she knows it comes out much harsher than he deserves, but she feels taken aback by his surprise appearance, how much it’s clearly thrown Kara off, and it helps to regain her footing.

Kara shoots her a look, but there’s a smile on her face that relaxes Lena and Clark looks at both of them before replying. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Maybe I should have called to check in before I dropped by.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kara says, laughing softly. Lena catches the way she’s leaning heavily against the counter as she tries to make a show of being put together for her cousin. “I’m glad you stopped by. And yes, I am on the good drugs.”

Clark relaxes from the way he’d stiffened under Lena’s gaze and smiles at her. “That’s good. When I broke my collarbone my rookie season, I couldn’t get enough of them.” He makes a face and then shakes his head. “That makes it sound like I had a drug problem, which to clarify, I did not.”

The hasty way he tries to reassure them reminds Lena so much of Kara that she has to laugh.

“I know you didn’t, Clark,” Kara says, reaching out to pat his hand and then wincing as she pulls back. Lena just barely restrains herself from going to Kara’s side and ordering she sit down somewhere.

Clark looks like he notices the painful expression Kara’s made and a wave of concern on his face makes Lena feel a little less bitter towards him. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” she dismisses and at his continuing look of worry she adds, “Seriously. It just tweaks sometimes.”

Thinking of a way to get Kara onto a couch and into a more comfortable position, Lena draws Clark’s attention. “We were about to order dinner and watch the game. Would you like to join us?”

Clark looks taken aback by the offer and even Kara gives her a quick look, but Lena plasters on an inviting smile that has Clark returning the expression easily enough.

“If I’m invited, sure,” Clark says. He looks at Kara, who looks over at Lena with somewhat narrowed eyes before she pulls a smile on her face.

“Yeah, of course,” Kara says.

“Cool,” Clark says. “Let me call James and tell him I’ll catch him later tonight.”

Kara waves him further down the hallway of her apartment and barely waits until he stops at her guest bedroom until she’s looking at Lena suspiciously.

“Go sit down,” Lena says, before Kara can let out whatever it is she’s about to say.

“This is going to be weird,” Kara says, looking very pouty as Lena starts pushing at her shoulder to usher her over to the couch. “We haven’t talked for longer than ten minutes since Japan.”

“I promise I will handle him if you just go sit down,” Lena says. “Right now.”

“I’m going,” Kara grumbles, her feet finally moving as Lena guides her over to the couch. When she sits down at the arm, she groans unhappily. Lena doesn’t even think about it, just runs her hand across the hair at Kara’s temple for a moment before she blinks and sighs.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Clark asks, a grin on his face as he reenters the living room. Lena’s hand retreats nearly as quickly as it had escaped her control. But Kara is still looking at her softly.

--

They watch the first half of the Lakehawks game together, the three of them. It takes a few minutes for Kara to start her usual commentary, clearly still distracted by Clark’s presence. But the two of them strike up a stilted conversation that begins with basketball strategy and doesn’t venture too much into personal things. Lena sits back and listens, can’t help but be interested in hearing Kara’s commentary as a two-way discussion rather than the monologue it usually is.  

As the game goes on, everyone seems to relax. Clark and Kara even seem to get along as if they were age old friends, joking about different childhood memories and making fun of some of the plays on the television.

It’s interesting – there are clearly similarities between Clark and Kara. They’re both funny, genuine people. But there are times where it’s apparent Clark isn’t quite sure how to handle Kara, and it’s apparent too that Kara notices. Lena wonders if this is how it’s always been or if it was something that developed after Kara’s parents died. Or maybe just when Clark went off to college.

By the time Clark leaves with another kiss to Kara’s cheek and a smile for Lena, the Lakehawks are about to start off the second half. Kara waves him down the corridor before she leans heavily again against the kitchen counter, the smile on her face drifting away as she slides onto a stool.

“Nice of him to stop by,” Lena says wryly and Kara makes a tired face, drops her head into the hand she has propped up by an elbow on the counter. Her other hand goes gingerly to her back and Lena looks around to see if she can spot Kara’s pain meds.

“Of all my family members that was surprisingly the least awkward,” Kara replies, an exhausted grin for Lena.

“Really?”

“Eliza was here the first few days,” Kara says, but pauses for a second to furrow her brow. “Eliza’s my adopt –”

“I know who Eliza is,” Lena interrupts with a laugh.

The crinkle in Kara’s brow fades and she regards Lena a moment before returning the chuckle. “Of course you do,” she says softly and then, “Well she was here right after I got out of the hospital and could not stop crying.”

At Lena’s face, Kara laughs again. “She’s usually not like that, but apparently seeing me that injured really upset her and she was just fussy and super concerned and how do you tell a person that loves you that much that they’re suffocating you?”

Lena arches a brow, but nods in an attempt at agreement. It’s hard to relate much less imagine Lillian Luthor shedding a tear over anyone that wasn’t Lex. “Sounds difficult.”

“And then when Alex comes by she keeps looking at me like if she breathed the wrong way she’d break me,” Kara continues on with a bit of a grumble. “The whole team doesn’t know how to react to me or what to say. Even Sara took two shots of vodka before she acted normal.”

“You two were drinking?!” Lena exclaims, and nearly slaps a hand over her mouth when she hears how chastising they sound.

Kara just laughs, waves her off. “Just Sara. She took one look at me with the walker and went straight for the liquor cabinet.”

“Sounds well-adjusted.”

“Sara’s just like that,” Kara dismisses easily, laughing with a kind of fondness that Lena doesn’t know how to take. It’s a constant battle to forget how surrounded Kara is by beautiful women. “Diana was really the only one that acted normal. And you. For the most part.”

“You’ve sure had a lot of visitors,” Lena comments, trying not to remember her run-in with the gorgeous Diana Prince.

“Turns out all you need is a nearly career-ending injury to bring everyone you know in your life to your doorstep,” Kara says and Lena sighs, setting aside any other feeling but the urge to soothe out Kara’s pain.

“Your career isn’t over, darling,” she tells her softly, reaching across the counter, but not touching Kara. “This will heal.”

Kara observes Lena for a poignant moment. “You know, I couldn’t feel my legs for the first few hours in the hospital.”

“You’ve said,” Lena says, swallowing against a sudden surge of emotion. Lena’d heard that from Cat’s press conference and again when Kara mentioned it that first night Lena stopped over to berate her. It’s not new knowledge, but it still steals her breath for a second.

“I thought it was over.” It’s said so matter-of-factly that Lena doesn’t know how to respond. “When Alex showed up after the game, I didn’t even want to see her.”

“I can’t imagine what you must have gone through,” Lena says quietly, unsure where Kara’s going with this.

A beat of silence, a look of consideration before Kara says, “They told me you were the first one there.”

Shock chills down Lena’s spine, her eyes widening for a moment. She’s not sure what to say other than, “What?”

Kara smiles. “I overheard the nurse talking to Cat and asking if they should call you since you’d been there minutes after I arrived.”

Lena flushes, feels her cheeks spike so violently with warmth she barely restrains herself from pressing her hands against them.

When she doesn’t reply, Kara bites at her bottom lip. “I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You’re not,” Lena denies, shaking her head and laughing a bit at herself. “I just didn’t realize you knew.” She pauses a moment and regards Kara seriously. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay.”

Kara shakes her head, reaches across the counter to where Lena’s hand still sits and touches her fingers lightly. “It was enough knowing you’d been there at all.”

It occurs to her with an overwhelming kind of clarity just how serious this thing between her and Kara is. It’s too clear how deep they’ve gone, how tightly Lena’s emotions are so wrapped up with Kara’s. The realization should give her anxiety, it should wrap around her throat and choke the air out of her.

Instead, her throat just feels thick and achy like she might cry, but her chest warms and settles down into her body. She feels rooted to the ground and to the way Kara’s looking at her and all she can think to say is, “I’m glad we’ve stayed friends.”

Kara smiles, even as her eyes drop and she laughs. “Me too.”

--

The Lakehawks lose. By the time the game is over, Kara looks the kind of emotionally exhausted she had after she told Lena about her parents, her eyes unfocused as she listens to the postgame territory.

“Let’s go to bed,” Lena announces, standing abruptly and only really hearing what she just said because Kara makes a startled noise, the exhaustion leaving her face as a more wide-eyed stunned expression replaces it. Lena feels her own eyes do the same, but she puts a stern face on and looks down on Kara. “You know that’s not how I meant it.”

Kara laughs, her expression deflating. “Too bad,” she jokes, and Lena’s hands feel like they’re buzzing suddenly.

“Very funny,” Lena says, determined not to overthink the teasing look in Kara’s eyes. “As if you’re in shape for anything like that.”

“Too real,” Kara says, the words more like a groan as she gingerly picks herself up from the couch.

They make their way to the bedroom and though Kara can walk without any assistance, Lena still follows her all the way there just to make sure. It isn’t until she’s standing there with Kara in the silence of the bedroom that she realizes she’s done it.

“Can I ask you an awkward favor?” Kara says quietly, looking at Lena over her shoulder until Lena comes better into view.

“Sure,” Lena replies, wondering what it could be and stomach flipping over at the possibilities.

Kara hesitates a moment, her fingers tugging at the hem of her grey Lakehawks issued t-shirt. “Do you think you could help me get my shirt off? It’s just painful as hell to do it myself.”

“Of course,” Lena says immediately, though the buzzing that began earlier only intensifies. “Just show me what to do.”

They work around each other, Lena lifting the fabric of Kara’s shirt over her head as best she can while Kara makes work of not moving her arms too high nor straining her back too much. It takes a lot of maneuvering and a lot of Lena trying very hard not to touch any bare skin.

She’s only partly successful. Her fingers still graze the muscles of Kara’s stomach and her shoulder blades and her body wakes up as if on muscle memory. It’s only with significant determination that she’s able to push it aside and focus on helping her friend.

When they finally get it off and Lena’s stuck standing in front of a topless Kara Danvers, she has to avert her gaze lest she let it rest there for an obvious length of time. “All good?”

Kara grabs the t-shirt from where Lena has her fingers clenched around it. “Yeah, thanks.”

Lena nods, looks up at Kara’s face. “No problem,” she says, clearing her throat the slightest. Kara’s eyes feel intense, but Lena thinks maybe that’s her own imagination. “I’ll see you later.”

“Definitely,” Kara says and before Lena can even think of it she’s stepping forward and pecking a short, completely friendly kiss to Kara’s cheek.

“Sleep well,” she says, face blooming with warmth before she turns and strides directly out of Kara’s bedroom without another word.

On her car ride home, Lena wonders the virtue of spending this much time around Kara, of allowing the kind of flirtation they’ve fallen into. Thinks maybe all that’s happening is she’s falling into old habits and only complicating everything so much further. That there’s a likelihood that letting this happen will only end with her being right where she was in Tokyo.

The obvious solution would be to stop, to cut her ties until their feelings are sorted out, but just the thought of it curdles so violently in her stomach that she knows it’s not a real solution to anything. And a part of her, too, knows that if it’s inevitable that her and Kara will be together, she wouldn’t mind.

--

Jack calls her midweek because he’s knee deep in a work project that’s driving him to the brink of insanity. Lena can hear the crazy in his voice the minute she picks the phone up and can picture him in his office, hair a mess from running his fingers in it and eyes red rimmed with how long he’s been awake.

“Do you want a break, or do you want me to come fix the problem?” Lena teases, already logging out of her computer and picking her bag up from the floor.

“Can it be both?” Jack asks, sounding pitiful.

“I’ll bring coffee,” Lena tells him before hanging up and telling Jess to call down to George.

--

It’s just as Lena’d expected. Jack’s office is a mess, his desk an unorganized pile of papers and half-destroyed prosthetic parts. It’s some project Jack’s been working on for the better part of a year and Lena recognizes it rather easily as soon as she gets close enough.

Jack is slumped in his chair, his suit jacket discarded along with his tie and his sleeves rolled up high on his arms. He offers Lena a tired smile when she hands him his usual coffee order and sets her bag down by his desk.

“You look terrible,” she tells him, her voice soft as she reaches out to tuck an errant lock of his hair out of his face.

“I assure you, I look a lot better than I feel,” he says with a joking twist to his lips.

“Reassuring,” Lena says dryly, and then surveys his workspace with an unimpressed eye. “Maybe some fresh perspective will help.”

“Maybe,” Jack says, slouching further in his chair and looking exhausted as he sips at the coffee he brought her.

Lena observes him a moment. “When did you eat last?”

“What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

Jack looks to the ceiling as if it holds the answer. “Not sure,” he says and Lena sighs.

“Come on,” she says holding her hand out and hauling him up out of the chair when he takes it. “Why don’t we go get some food and maybe a shower and come back to it a bit fresher?”

“I’m too tired to shower,” he all but whines and Lena laughs.

Pointing a stern finger at him, she says, “That part is non-negotiable. You’ve clearly become immune to what you smell like.”

Jack makes a face that both of them laugh at, but slings an arm around her shoulder and pulls in her closer. “That’s part of my musk,” he says and she elbows him, hard.

“Don’t be gross, or I’m taking the coffee back.”

He jumps back from her, huddles the coffee protectively, but grins at her, already looking fuller of life than when she walked in.

--

They head to his apartment and he takes a quick shower while Lena threatens to burn the clothes he’s clearly been working in for the past three days. After that, when Jack looks a little more capable of being a normal human, they head around the corner from his building to an old dive-y bar they used to frequent years ago but haven’t visited in some time.

It’s a comfortable kind of place and Lena’s pleased to see it hasn’t changed much in the time they’ve been away.

They take a corner table, a darker area of the already dim bar and Lena immediately orders a pot of coffee and two of Jack’s favorite appetizers.

“So talk me through the problem,” Lena instructs as the server sets the coffee on the table along with two mugs and glasses of water.

Jack does as he’s told, walks through the project and where he’s gotten stuck. Lena listens intently, pushes his coffee towards him when he doesn’t stop to drink it and lets her mind try to work on a solution.

It takes a full plate of wings and half an order of spinach artichoke dip before Lena has something to contribute and she sketches out an idea on a beverage napkin on the table.

Jack leans low over the table and watches her, sips at his coffee and blows out a breath into a laugh. “Why are you so brilliant?”

“Are you complaining?” Lena asks, pushing the napkin towards him for his inspection.

It’s likely not the full solution, but it’s at least something Jack hadn’t thought of yet and he folds the napkin nicely before sticking it his pocket. “Not at all,” he says. “I knew there was a reason I chose you as my best friend.”

Lena laughs. “Good to know I’ve earned the title.”

Looking much less exhausted than before, Jack sits up and throws the rest of his coffee back before pouring some more into his mug. “Okay, you solved my problems, any problems I can solve for you?”

Lena shrugs, sips at her water. “I actually don’t have any problems,” she says, realizing suddenly how true it is.

Jack’s disbelief, however, is immediate and deep. “How is that possible?”

“That’s rude,” Lena says, kicking his foot under the table.

“Are you seriously telling me there’s nothing new with the superstar?”

The mention of Kara makes Lena pause, considering, but she shrugs again. “Not really.”

“You’ve been texting her again,” Jack says, reproachfully. “I’ve seen it happening.”

“We’re friends,” Lena says, and it somehow doesn’t feel like a lie. Somewhere between sleeping together and then not, they did become friends. Complicated flirtation and feelings aside.

Jack, however, looks completely skeptical and despite an immediate feel of indignation, Lena can admit that’s probably warranted. “You’re friends,” he repeats in a deadpan, scoffing into a laugh at the end of it.

“I know what that sounds like,” Lena says, acknowledging it with a sigh. “But it’s true. Strange as it may seem.”

“It is strange,” Jack says. “Are you two…engaged in your arrangement again?”

Lena scoffs, taking a sip of her drink and glancing over to the television where a Harriers game is playing. They’re getting destroyed.

“She’s only just been able to walk for longer than ten minutes at a time,” Lena says. “We’ve been hanging out. Normally.”

“You’ve been hanging out,” Jack says. When she looks over at him, he’s squinting unnecessarily in the dim light of the bar.

“Yes,” Lena says.

“Normally,” Jack repeats. Lena throws a look his way that has him laughing. “Sorry, I just. I can’t imagine how it would be normal. You’ve spent the last two months like a hamster in a wheel trying to ignore your feelings.”

“She knows about my feelings, I know about hers. Now that it’s all out on the table there isn’t some big dark cloud looming over us,” Lena says idly, watching the screen as the Harriers miss another shot. It takes her a few moments to realize Jack is staring at her, and when she looks over at him, he’s got wide eyes.

“She has feelings,” Jack says. “That you know about.”

The cold feeling of realization – that she never exactly managed to tell Jack that she and Kara had had any constructive conversation about feelings at all – sets in.

“I – yes,” Lena says, shrugging and looking around before she speaks again. “I told her when we broke it off that I was - ”

“In love, yes,” Jack says, nodding and rolling his hand in the air as though she needs to get to the point. She’s a bit offended he’s just rolled past that.

“Right. She told me…some time after that…that she was in love with me too,” Lena says. It settles in the air like concrete.

Jack blinks at her, the mania from earlier leaking back into this eyes.

“So you’re in love with each other, and you’ve been hanging out. Normally,” Jack says. Lena nods. “Lena. What the fuck?”

“She needs a friend right now, and I can do that,” Lena says, shrugging. “Things are still how they are.”

Jack’s jaw is slack, his eyes darting around a little crazily and he looks completely at a loss for words.

“I’m too exhausted to process any of this,” he settles on, shaking his head at her. “You’ve both acknowledged you’re in love but can’t be together and are totally fine hanging out and texting like old friends. Even though you spent months sleeping together like…all the time.”

Lena shrugs, but when it’s said out loud like that, she can see where his skepticism comes from. “I don’t know what to tell you. We’re friends.”

“I’d tell you that you’re being delusional, but it’s like talking to a wall at this point.”

“Harsh,” she says, making an indignant face.  

“I can’t believe, honestly, that I told you months and months ago to sleep with the star of a basketball team and then you listened to me, and now you’re in love with her and you’re going to get married,” Jack mutters, mostly into his coffee.

“I think you skipped over how we’re just friends,” Lena says, glaring. Jack shrugs.

“For now,” he says, then blinks. “You know, I bet Kara Danvers never thought she’d be the trophy wife.”

“You need to go to sleep for at least twenty-four hours,” Lena says, shoving at Jack’s shoulder.

Jack hunches low over his coffee and shakes his head. “Just tell me where to send the wedding gift,” he grumbles, and she kicks him under the table.

“Shut up, Jack,” she says, but laughs when he just gives her a cheeky little grin.

--

Kara gets featured yet again on the Lakehawks Instagram. This time she’s walking completely on her own and even has a basketball in her hand. She looks complete in a way that makes Lena’s heart flutter.

The caption is just the countdown begins.

--

Instead of a text, it’s a phone call and Lena’s body reacts to that against her will. Phone calls from Kara usually lead to a very specific thing that has heat curling in her stomach and Lena pushes it down with frustration before picking the phone up. It’s not even eight in the morning, she admonishes herself silently.

“Hi,” she greets, and Kara’s voice is almost aggressively bubbly across the line.

“Hey! What are you up to?”

“Just got to work,” Lena says. “I have a conference call with some Dutch subsidiaries.”

“Can you speak Dutch?” Kara asks, her voice light and happy. It makes Lena smile.

“Only when it’s business related,” she returns. Kara laughs.

“I know there isn’t a game tonight, but would you want to come over anyway?”

Lena hesitates, ponders the likelihood of being able to restrain herself around Kara without the distraction of the Lakehawks. Wonders how much she even wants to restrain herself at this point.

“We can’t be friends if we never hang out,” Kara says as if reading her thoughts and Lena’s eyes go to the ceiling a moment.

“I was just checking my schedule,” she lies.

“And?”

Lena thinks of Jack’s earlier strategy – that repeated exposure might numb her to pain – and decides maybe the same applies here. The more she hangs around Kara as friends, the less likely she’ll be to think about all the things they used to do when they were hanging out. Kara had certainly said as much herself. Just relax and be friends. They can certainly have dinner without the distraction of the Lakehawks.

“I have something going on early afternoon,” she says, grateful it’s not actually a lie – there’s some happy hour she remembers she’s meant to make an appearance at after the normal workday is over. “But I could head by around dinner.”

“Great!” Kara says, sounding so happy Lena can’t help but smile.

--

When she actually does check her schedule, her eyes go wide at a meeting she notices for later that day. It’s apparently an appointment that’s been on her schedule for the better part of a week, but Lena’s just noticing it now – a glaring Samantha Arias: 1:00PM taunting her from her computer screen.

A sudden exclamation of Jess! brings her assistant scurrying into her office with a look of concern that Lena tries to assuage with a smile. Judging by the severe furrow of Jess’s brow that doesn’t release, Lena’s not certain she succeeds.

“Miss Luthor?”

“This one o’clock meeting I have…”

“Samantha Arias, yes,” Jess says with a nod, looking down at the tablet in her hands and scrolling through what must be Lena’s schedule.

“Any idea what it’s about?” Lena asks, hoping Sam at least attempted to contrive some business reason.

Jess purses her lips, scrutinizes something on her screen. “Looks like…a project proposal?”

“For what?” The words are clipped and a bit irritated and she tries not to take it out on her assistant.

“Unspecified,” Jess answers, looking up at Lena with a worried wrinkle between her brows. “She just mentioned that she needed fifteen minutes of your time.”

“You put her down her for a half hour,” Lena points out, glancing again at her schedule.

Jess shrugs, a bit repentant. “She was nice.”

With a sigh, Lena affects a smile, but shakes her head at the flush on her assistant’s cheeks. “Very well,” she concedes. “Will you let me know when she arrives?”

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jess replies dutifully.

And with that, Jess promptly leaves her alone with her thoughts and Lena spends the next twenty minutes staring at the same sentence in an e-mail she’s been trying to reply to until she finally shakes out of it.

--

Sam arrives five minutes early, just as Lena’s finishing a late lunch and discarding the rest of its contents into the trash can near her desk. Jess informs her of Sam’s arrival with enough hesitance that Lena does her best to smile warmly and affect some kind of casual air.

“Send her in,” she tells her and seconds later is greeted to the confident image of Sam Arias striding into her office.

“Lena,” Sam greets and after a moment’s deliberation, Lena leaves her chair to pace around her desk and greet Sam with a quick, polite air kiss to the cheek.

“Sam, good to see you again,” she says, the words coming out even and practiced.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Sam replies as they disengage, and Lena takes her position back behind the safety of her desk. Sam drops into one of the chairs across from her as Lena does the same.

“I must say I was a bit surprised to see you on my schedule,” Lena starts, pushing forward in her chair and leaning her elbows on her desk. She picks up a pen from its surface and plays with it, feeling fidgety, but trying to contain it. “What brings you to Luthor Corp?”

Sam laughs softly, her eyes darting away for a moment and Lena feels a drop of worry for a moment. “I can imagine what you must have thought.”

Lena’s sure that’s true. But she figures if maybe she just ignores the elephant in the room, it might wander away. So she arches a brow, lips thinned into a smile and says, “I’m not sure what you mean. My assistant said something about a project proposal?”

Judging by the way Sam’s lip twist, the reasoning was about as thin an excuse as Lena’d anticipated. “Yes, right,” Sam says. “That’s not entirely true.”

It irritates her more than she can say, and she hates the manipulative way Sam’s managed to trap her, but she takes a breath and remains professional. “I can’t imagine what else would bring you here,” she says, and Sam actually rolls her eyes at that.

“I said not entirely true, okay? I do have business here, but it feels awkward to start there without…” her lips purse a moment, eyes darting over Lena’s face. “You know.”

“So you secured a spot on my work schedule to talk personal things?” Lena knows she’s sounding testy, bitter even, but she can’t quite stop it.

Sam, however, has always been quick on her feet, adaptable and close to unflappable. She sits up in her chair and levels Lena with a look. “I have business to discuss with you that has nothing to do with us,” she says and Lena’s brought back to a different conversation, a younger version of Sam telling her it was about business, not about us. “I thought it might be good to get some of the personal stuff out of the way.”

Lena keeps her gaze out of sheer unwillingness not to be the first to break and sets the pen she’s been twisting back down on the table. When she doesn’t respond, Sam adds, “Unless you’d just like to awkwardly pretend none of our personal history exists.”

A snarky reply spikes up in her throat, but she swallows it and sees the opportunity for what it is: closure on a relationship she thought she might never get. “Very well,” she answers. “What would you like to talk about?”

This takes a bit of the rigidity out of Sam’s spine, but she keeps Lena’s gaze still, jaw tight. “I’d like to apologize,” she says, and Lena fights the reaction that wants to cross her face. Her stomach flips over, and she feels a scratching at an ancient scab.

“For what?”

Sam’s smile turns sad, her eyes softening. “For the way things ended between us,” she says in a quiet voice. “And for some of the things I said.”

“You don’t owe me an apology for that,” Lena dismisses, strangely feeling it unnecessary to rehash all that history. It occurs to her quite suddenly that she’d forgiven Sam without realizing it, that she’d moved on. Her mind wanders to Kara, wonders how much that had a hand it, despite realizing the answer quite clearly.

“Maybe not,” Sam says, “but I want to give you one nonetheless. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lena says and despite believing the words, her eyes feel hot with the memory. “It was a long time ago.”

Sam is quiet a moment. “And you’ve clearly moved on.”

The words could sound bitter, but they somehow don’t. It takes Lena a second to even process exactly what Sam’s referring to, but when she does her smile crosses her face unbidden. It’s incredibly inappropriate to feel this pleased by the insinuation she could be dating Kara, but something about the moment has Lena allowing herself to live in the fiction.  

“Kara, you mean.”

“Yes,” Sam laughs. “Kara Danvers. Quite the catch. How did that happen?”

Lena blinks, has no good answer for that question other than a dismissive, “It’s a long story.”

“It must be hard with both of your jobs and her busy schedule,” Sam says. “She travels a lot, doesn’t she?”

“We both do,” Lena answers firmly, unsure where Sam might be going, but wanting to head it off nonetheless.

“Of course,” Sam acknowledges. “I know all about that.”

“I’m sure you do,” Lena replies with an unimpressed lift of her brow. “We find ways to manage.”