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Organization for Transformative Works
Lena Luthor woke up on the morning of the National Chess Finals feeling deliciously evil.
For months she had toiled across the regional leagues, decimating all manner of opponent with the cutting, elegant efficiency of a Luthor on a mission. She had obliterated the Northeastern Conference, made mincemeat out of the Midwest Regionals, and mercilessly destroyed the South-Region finals with barely any effort. It was the run of her career, and she had been absolutely unstoppable.
That is, until she and Lex made it to the California State Rounds and were completely blindsided by…
A fucking no-name rookie.
It did not bear thinking about. Lena was at the absolute peak of her chess career – the last year she’d be able to devote to full-time competition, since the new LuthorCorp HQ would be opening up in National City by the end of the year, and she’d be the one heading it. And yet, her magnificent run had been nearly destroyed by some two-bit player from some suburban park.
Kara Danvers – the “rookie” in question – was an unseeded unknown who had somehow embedded herself in the highest levels of chess like a splinter into an unsuspecting toe. Lena didn’t even know how that was legal – Lex and others had clamored to the officials that surely this was a breach in regulations, but to no avail. Said officials had simply directed them to a match Kara had played a few months prior, the recorded proof of her sound beatdown of one of the world's most advanced Chess AIs.
The fact that the AI she beat was none other than the one designed by Lena’s own brother was just rubbing salt in the wound.
Lena would die before she ever admitted how much that recording rattled her, even though she had beat the very same AI herself more times than she could care to count. She was supposed to beat it – hell, she had helped design the damn thing. But some untested nobody?
Unacceptable.
To make matters worse, when Lena got to California and finally met the woman in person, she was utterly unprepared for just how disarming Kara Danvers would be in the flesh.
Because 1: Kara Danvers was hot.
And 2: Kara Danvers was a goddamn idiot.
From the very first moment Lena set eyes on that insufferable hunky blonde (someone really needed to tell her those button-down collared shirts were way too tight on her shoulders), Kara proved herself to be the least self-aware person in possibly the entire planet. Lena had not been there five minutes before Danvers accidentally flipped no less than three boards during practice rounds and toppled over a hotel beverage cart. She could swear the blonde said “Oopsie-daisy” after going ass over tea kettle down the last set of steps, nearly taking out Lex’s entire entourage on her way down.
That was the person who beat the LexChess 2000? This airhead who Lena had seen push every door that said “Pull” in the hotel? The one who said “whoops, excuse me” after walking into a pole?
The point was, Kara Danvers could scarcely tell where her own two feet were supposed to go – and this was the person supposedly planning over a dozen moves ahead in one of the most complex tournaments in the world?
Absolutely not.
Lena had been somewhat comforted by that first impression, and that turned out to be her first fatal mistake. Surely that bumbling idiot would buckle under the pressure of an in-person tournament. Surely she had cheated to beat the LexChess 2000 (now 3000). That was all. Lena had absolutely nothing to worry about.
“Nothing to worry about” turned into Lena’s first defeat in four years in the span of just six moves.
She had been baffled. Stunned stupid. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled by someone who said thinks like “Okie-dokie.” The trumpets of her defeat were sounded when Danvers – Cheeto crumbs still visible on the collar of a navy-blue, way-too-tight button down – moved her bishop for the kill and gleefully announced:
“Oh, golly! That looks like checkmate to me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous – wait, what?” There was no way. There could be no way –
“Yep, ‘fraid so. But good game!”
If looks could kill, Lena was sure their board would disintegrate into dust, chirpy Kara Danvers and her Cheeto-covered collar along with it. Lena had not just lost before she could even tell what was happening. No.
Inconceivable.
Lext would not shut up about the “incident,” as he called it, for days, but his protestations fell upon deaf ears. No one was angrier than Lena was with herself.
The next time she was to face Kara Danvers, Lena made sure to be adequately prepared. She studied Kara’s movements at the blonde’s other matches (keenly aware Kara was doing the same at hers), she immersed herself into the most obscure and complex realms of chess theory, and made some additional tweaks to the brand new LexChess 4000 for good measure. She made sure she was unstoppable.
On the day of their rematch, Lena was ready. Kara’s clumsy, “aw, shucks” façade would not work a second time.
Her faultless plan nearly failed her on her opening move. Kara sat down, smiled jovially, and said it like it was completely fucking normal:
“Hiyah, Lena! Nice to see you again. Gee, you look gorgeous today!”
What. The. Fuck.
What sort of strategy was that?! Lena had been caught so off-guard, she barely managed a mumbled “thank you,” trying her hardest to ignore the flush of her cheeks and completely fumbling what should have been a viciously aggressive opening.
She did manage to win, but it was a near, near thing. Kara’s play style was purely chaotic and entirely nonsensical, but outrageously effective. Most dangerously, it was completely unpredictable. She was a hand grenade to Lena’s sniper rifle.
The game ended in Lena’s favor, at last, and Kara let out a low whistle, her smile bright and cheerful despite the defeat.
“Holy moly, you sure are something!”
What was that supposed to mean?!
Their following matches during the State Championships followed much of the same pattern. Kara would win some, Lena would win some more, with a few draws here and there. Lena ended up winning the championship on a technicality – Kara overslept and missed their match, apparently, which was just. So inconsiderate. Lena wanted to earn her victories.
As they moved on to the West Coast Conference, their dance followed much of the same vein. Lex was at the end of his rope, encouraging Lena to train at all hours with the LexChess 5000, but no amount of training could prepare Lena for Kara’s chaotic style, or worse, what seemed to be her secret weapon: the compliments.
Lena hated how much they affected her – fully believed they were a calculated attempt at sabotage, in fact, were they not so goddamn sincere.
It was always right before the match started, and always delivered with that insufferable, idiotic megawatt grin Lena itched to wipe off her face. Sometimes they were about her hair, the shade of her lipstick; even her hands, once (“Gee, Lena, you have like, the prettiest hands – have you ever thought of hand modelling?”).
And every time, without fail, they would disarm Lena enough to discombobulate her entire strategy. Maybe the LexChess 6000 should come with a flattery mode.
It would have been even more infuriating (and further fuel her sabotage theory) if Kara didn’t also compliment her outside of matches.
She sought Lena out with unnerving frequency, and the compliments came along with her. One time, she had paid for Lena’s drink at the hotel bar and waxed lyrical about the shades of Lena’s eyes and the bottle of expensive gin the bartender had left on the counter.
If Lena didn’t know any better, if she were not renowned for her laser-like focus, she might have thought Kara Danvers wanted to be her friend – perhaps of the “with benefits” variety.
Ridiculous.
The most annoying part was, were it not for the intense, deep hatred she harbored for the blond bane of her existence, Lena might have even considered it. Oh, well.
It was on a balmy afternoon in Los Angeles that Lena finally caught a break. An appropriate solution to Kara’s “kill them with kindness” schtick finally presented itself, in the form of a lacy emerald green La Perla brassiere just barely peeking out of the not-inconsiderable cleavage of Lena’s blouse.
The match had started as usual, oddly without Kara’s customary praising quips, but Lena was too focused to pay it any mind. They were rapidly approaching an impasse, and Lena punched the timer to end her turn and waited.
And waited.
With an impatient huff, she raised her gaze to Kara, fully ready with a hurry-the-hell-up glare. However, the moment she looked up, she couldn’t help but notice her opponent’s line of sight was nowhere near their board, but went down, down, and beyond…
Directly to Lena’s chest.
She would have protested, or cleared her throat to say, “my eyes are up here” or “the board is a little further up,” but something stopped her.
Kara was in a trance. Mouth open like a guppy – Lena would not have been surprised to see some drool. It was unbelievable. Hilariously unbelievable.
Lena tested her theory with a discreet roll of her shoulders, a subtle twist of her neck…
And Kara suddenly sputtered to attention, whipping to sit up straight with a gasp and moving her knight somewhere entirely unadvisable in her panicked haste. Her cheeks were flushed an adorably absurd shade of red.
Interesting, Lena thought soon after, when she briefly rearranged her collar – a bra strap may or may not have made an appearance, it was impossible to say – and Kara nearly whacked the timer off the table with a gasp.
Very interesting.
They shook hands after the match ended in a resounding victory for Lena, and Kara was still red, eyes darting everywhere except to Lena’s face.
It was on. Finally, finally Lena had the answer to counter the baffling efficacy of Kara’s attacks. She laughed to herself in her hotel room while Lex worked on the LexChess 7000 in the adjourning suite, not believing the answer was right in front of her eyes all along. Well, a little below her eyes.
If Kara Danvers was caught that off-guard by a little bit of cleavage, she had not seen anything yet. Lena was about to crush her like a little bug under her Prada heel. She would prepare for war in a way that would make Sun Tzu blush.
By the time they got to Nationals, the natural order of things had been nearly restored, courtesy of Lena’s vast array of plunging necklines, body-tight fabrics, and a few thigh-high slits here and there for good measure. More than once Lena was sure Kara was more focused on counting the freckles going from her collarbone to her jaw than on the pieces moving across the board – that was one of her most memorable, deliciously humiliating victories, accomplished in only two moves.
Poor little Kara Danvers never had a chance.
Was it perhaps, a bit… unsportsmanlike? Perhaps. But Kara certainly wasn’t complaining, and Lena was back to winning more often than not. All’s fair in love and war, so they say.
After all, it wasn’t as if Kara’s compliments had stopped at the first little flash of skin. Au contraire, she had redoubled her efforts both in and out of their matches. Everything was fair game – at one point she had said hello with the ghost of a kiss to Lena’s cheek, and the match following that little overture was Lena’s worst defeat to date (as Lex continually reminded as he worked on adding a flirty mode to the LexChess 8000). But at least they were fighting on equal footing, finally.
And today, it ends, Lena thought, applying the deepest, most devastating shade of red to her lips. It was the finals. It all came down to the last game of the season, and Lena would take the prize home. Her plan was infallible.
All she needed was a supply closet, an unsuspecting Kara Danvers, and thirty seconds.
When the time came, Lena descended the hotel ballroom stairs like a queen surveying her kingdom, eyes scanning the passerby for her unsuspecting prey. Kara was easy to find – away from the crowd, at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her in an admittedly dashing navy waistcoat. When their eyes met, Lena knew immediately she would succeed; Kara’s mouth hung open for a brief moment before she collected herself, clearing her throat so loudly other people looked their way.
Lena had this in the bag.
“Erm, Lena, hi. I wanted to – uh, I wanted to congratulate you and wish you a good game. It’s been a good run.” She said, cheeks pink. The hand she extended for a greeting shook faintly; Lena took it with a smile.
“It has,” she replied, her voice as sultry as she could make it. “A pity it has to end so soon.” Kara did look a little saddened at the prospect; Lena saw her opportunity and cast her line. “Would you mind coming with me for a moment? I need to speak with you about something important.”
Kara glanced at her watch, brows furrowing with concern. “Can it be quick? They’re going to calls us out there any minute now.”
Lena batted her eyelashes, brushing off some imaginary lint from Kara’s waistcoat. The blonde shivered under her touch, and Lena’s smile tugged her red lips wider, deadly.
“It will only take a moment, I promise.”
Kara nodded, following like a loyal puppy as Lena walked away.
Hook, line, and sinker.
It really was too easy. Kara made no comment on their odd route through the hotel up until the moment Lena led them into a previously selected supply closet – one close to the pool currently under renovations and thus with minimal foot traffic. In fact, she seemed downright giddy to be following Lena around right until the door clicked shut behind them in the cramped space.
“Uh, Lena? Why are we in a broom closet?”
Lena turned – it was dark, but she could still see the inquisitive look in Kara’s blue eyes. It was time to move for the kill.
“So I can do this.”
There was an ungraceful squeak when Lena pulled Kara towards her a little more violently than intended, bringing her down in one swift move to clash their lips together. The blonde recovered quickly, hands landing on either side of Lena’s head with a heavy thump against the door, stunned stupid by Lena’s underhanded attack and more than willing to participate, if her little groan of appreciation was anything to go by.
Kara’s confusion did not last long – it was barely a second, Lena thinks, before her strong hands scratched their way down the door to find themselves at home on Lena’s waist in a possessive grip that (admittedly) sent shivers down Lena’s spine.
Lena’s attack was relentless, and to her utter surprise, Kara responded with gusto. Her lips tasted like the cherry ChapStick she constantly reapplied between matches, and Lena found herself getting a little sidetracked from Operation Snog Kara Danvers Senseless To Win At Chess.
She really couldn’t help it. Kara was good at much more than chess, apparently, and that little fact was sure to have devastating consequences. She was a sublime kisser, her lips making an absolute mess of Lena’s dark red tint, hands tight at her waist and her hips –
It was a knee expertly positioned just so for Lena to grind on that finally – briefly – separated them; Lena’s head hit the door with a muted thunk, and Kara got busy nipping at the exposed skin of her neck while Lena held on to that goddamn waistcoat for dear life.
“Uh, what are we doing?” Kara husked after a gentle bite to her earlobe that made Lena melt.
Lena turned and held her by the chin, looking up with murder in her gaze. “Do. Not. Speak.”
“Okie-dokie.”
After the most monumental of eye rolls, Lena shut her up by kissing her again – she heard no complaints, and Lena herself didn’t have any as long as Kara’s mouth was busy kissing as opposed to talking.
Lena forgot all about her sabotage plans the moment their lips met again. Kara was soft, she was sure, and so unbelievably strong. If Lena didn’t absolutely hate her, she would be exactly her type – athletic, kind of a goof, with majestic golden hair that felt like silk between Lena’s fingers. It was heaven, it was wonderful, and Lena was never leaving this damn supply closet.
.Who knew the most insufferable chess prodigy Lena had ever met would also be such an amazing kisser. Her plans really couldn’t have turned out any better, she thought with a gasp as Kara’s strong hands lifted her up against the heavy door, and holy shit she had lifted her fully off the ground –
“Wait, wait, wait, do you hear that?” Kara said suddenly, her head whipping pack, mouth stained with Lena’s red.
Lena almost whimpered, clutching at Kara’s shoulders like a lifeline, forgetting why she should be thinking of anything other than kissing this woman until they both passed out or even –
“Shh, it’s nothing, I’m sure—”
“No, no, listen, it’s… is that the PA system?”
Begrudgingly, Lena detached her hold enough to turn slightly and press her ear to the door. It was faint, but there was something coming over the Tannoy—
“.. –ra Danvers… and Lena Luthor, last call to final match at the—”
“Shit, move, move, move!”
The scramble to the luxurious hall where their final match was taking place would have been pathetically amusing, were Lena not in the middle of it, nearly breaking her ankles as they tried to take the stairs down three or five steps at a time. To Kara’s credit, she did save Lena from falling flat on her face a time or two.
They looked absolutely ridiculous. Lena’s hair was a mess, Kara’s shirt and waistcoat were heavily mussed – wait, when had Lena gotten to the buttons?? – and they were both wearing slightly different shades of Lena’s signature red lipstick across their faces in a way that left little doubt of what they had been up to.
Lena’s gaze met her brother’s across the hall as they arrived in a dizzying rush – Lex’s brows nearly disappeared into his nonexistent hairline and Lena could tell he was holding in a guffaw of laughter.
God, she would never live this down.
They took their places as usual, all eyes on them – their rivalry had generated quite a bit of buzz in the chess world, and Lena had no doubt after their entrance the buzz would spill over to her real life.
They shook hands; Kara would start with the whites, and then it was all silence. There was no compliment this time, no customary quip or sarcastic retort that usually accompanied them. There was only deep, intense focus, and Lena immediately began to wonder if her foolproof plan to distract Kara Danvers enough to make her stumble had been a complete failure.
Kara’s game was no longer chaotic. It was… brilliantly calculated, elegant, and most of all, insurmountably predictable. It was, in short, the most boring game Lena could have ever conceived, and she couldn’t understand why.
She looked up after another predictable play, pushing further into Kara’s half of the board, but not making much meaningful progress. The blonde was cool as a cucumber, eyes fixated on the chess pieces before them, and Lena was almost miffed at being so soundly ignored.
Until she realized Kara was deliberately leading them towards a stalemate.
“I see what you’re doing,” she said, breaking the silence and stunning their encircling audience. “It won’t work.”
Kara smiled, finally looking at her, and the moment those blue eyes were upon her, Lena felt like she could breathe again. Oh shit.
“What am I doing, Lena?”
Lena angrily moved her rook out of harm’s way. “You’re deliberately pushing for a stalemate. We’d just have to have a rematch, Danvers.”
Kara shrugged, and matched Lena’s move. “And again, and again, and again.”
Lena quirked her brow, positioning her knight and punching the timer a little more forcefully than was perhaps needed. “Enlighten me,” she continued as Kara made yet another predictable move. “Why are you prolonging out misery? Don’t you just want to get this over with?”
“Actually, I kind of want to get it started,” Kara quipped, winking as she ended her turn.
Another pawn taken. “Come again?”
“I don’t want to be done playing with you yet, Lena.”
Lena spluttered, nearly knocking the whole damn board over. Did she have to phrase it—wait a minute.
“Well,” she coughed, “we’ll have to finish eventually.”
Another pawn off the board. Lena moved her king, anticipating Kara’s next move with her bishop.
“Then how about we raise the stakes?”
Lena looked up, meeting an inquisitive blue gaze that made her momentarily forget about the battle raging on the board between them. “Continue.”
“If I win, I get to take you out for dinner tonight. As in, a date.”
The whole room erupted in a prolonged ooooh. Lena thought she could hear Lex have a coughing fit somewhere. She smiled wickedly, positioning her queen for some heavy damage.
“Intriguing. And if I win?”
Kara defended her king, and all eyes turned to her. She shrugged, not looking at the board. “Then I guess I’ll make like a knight and take the L,” she quipped – their spectators groaned in unison. “No? OK… If you win, I guess… I guess you don’t ever need to see me again.”
Lena stopped just before touching her queen – she had just found a hole in Kara’s defense, and she was absolutely going for the kill, there was no reason not to. But something stopped her, an otherworldly force born out of blue eyes and a beautiful smile, and in that moment, Lena had the unshakeable feeling that her entire life was about to change, right there and then.
She was about to do something profoundly stupid.
Her hand changed its trajectory, away from her queen and to her last remaining knight for what was possibly the dumbest possible move of her entire career – the thud of Lex’s body hitting the floor as he passed out was barely noticeable – leaving her king completely vulnerable.
She hit the clock for the last time and looked over at Kara, who looked stunned – stunned and happy. The blonde made her move with one hand, while the other reached over to lace their fingers together as the entire hall erupted in deafening cheers.
40 FICTIONAL FEMALE DYNAMICS
6. Kate Whistler x Lucy Tara (NCIS: Hawai'i)
But I love you. I don't know how - I don't know how else to prove it to you. And I can't go another day without you, Lucy. I will do it right this time and I swear I will not - Shut up already.
It’s funny, most people can be around someone and they gradually begin to love them and never know exactly when it happened; but Ruth knew the very second it happened to her. When Idgie had grinned at her and tried to hand her that jar of honey, all these feelings that she had been trying to hold back came flooding through her, and it was at that second in time that she knew she loved Idgie with all her heart.
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