lena is really *really* into the idea of fucking an alien
sometimes when lena is bored at her desk, on a conference call with the board, listening to her mother emasculate yet another yale-bred, early 20s nepotism hire in the hallway, her mind wanders. meanders, really. it's a lesson in imagination. a practice in her academic deductive reasoning. one of those exercises designed to fight dementia, she's inclined to believe. anyways, she wanders about what it would be like to fuck an alien.
don't be like that. it's not crass. it's a scientific pursuit.
for instance, would it be sexual or asexual reproduction? sexual reproduction would make more sense, and surely the universe is sensible. it would promote genetic diversity. and then, what kind? syngamy or conjugation? fertilization was the most common in multicellular sexual populations, lena has often reasoned. (see, this isn't horny. many of these words put you right to sleep, didn't they?) then there's the types of syngamy, of course: isogamy, heterogamy, and oogamy. but she doesn't really need to get into gametes here. size, number, maintenance. the question she's pondering while jess is listing off her jampacked schedule is how different would an alien's physiology end up being, sexually speaking? would they feel pleasure? that wasn't common on earth. how would fertilization work? penetration? on all fours, perhaps?
hm.
or would none of that even matter? would it be purely for the experience of interspecies connection? of finding common ground with a creature so distinct from you, it could almost be argued as a matter of say, quantum entanglement. no matter how many stars separated you, here you were. touching. looking. intertwining. two materials from totally different galaxies, the products of millions of years of formation, evolution, coming, coming together as one.
"mrs. luthor?" the tentative voice of her assistant rings out.
lena drops her pen to her desk. she'd been absentmindedly doodling. it's the super crest.
"kara danvers is here to see you."
"send her up," lena replies, careful in her tone, swiveling her chair towards the blinding windows of her office. up towards the sky, the heavens and far beyond.
if only someone, someone she knew personally, an alien, would be so inclined as to humor her questions. or even a physical demonstration, perhaps? was that really so hard?
theartofmadeline
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