Kara takes her to Argo and Lena has to pinch herself - multiple times, in such rapid succession, and winds up with a bruise - as a reminder it’s all real, tangible, she’s in outer space. Argo is a wonder to behold. A comic-book level fantasy she might have dreamed up in her darker mindsets as a younger woman, in times when Lillian was feeling particularly cruel or when Lex began his backslide into otherness, and it’s not just from an engineering standpoint. Yes, the dome is something obsess over, and the city architecture is astonishing (truly, the Burj Khalifa paled in comparison), and the day-to-day technology that is so very much lightyears ahead of Earth or anything Lena could being to postulate. All these things are true.
But the most startling thing about Argo, the thing which stands out the most in striking comparison, is Kara Danvers.
Kara Zor-El.
Lena adjusts quickly - she’s a Luthor, after all - but it doesn’t stop her from watching the subtle changes. It’s as though a light has returned to Kara which Lena never realised was missing in the first place. A pure radiance in every look, step and movement that makes her ache for the Kara she’s known; the sudden brazen freedom in Kara’s touches which send shivers down Lena’s spine.
Kara and Lena share a moment while visiting Argo City.
#SGSPEC: EPISODE TWO, “Past Actions and Their Motives”
Episode two in Supergirl fourth season spec script. Lex pushes Lena to make a decision on family loyalties; Kara and the team race against time to find her before it's too late. Episode One.
sam’s scriptwriting adventures: honestly, if the actual sg writers aren’t going to give a fuck about canon, then i am Going to write kara accidentally asking lena out on a date and i Don’t Care!! i’ll pop my own pussy!!! ep 1 & ep 2.
Kara thinks it must have happened somewhere between Dog Day Afternoon and that weird Magellan movie Lena swore Kara would love (she had been skeptical about both picks, doesn’t much go in for gangsters or gunfire, but the excitement on her best friend’s face was too cute and Kara couldn’t bear to ruin it). It starts with a soft sigh she only half hears - hello, super hearing doesn’t always suck - because Al Pacino is right in the middle of his big negotiating bit and she has to admit that Lena picked a good one to start with; they had both suffered through a long day, board meetings at L-Corp for Lena and a particularly ruthless editorial staff pick-up with Snapper and James. But now that the flotsam and jetsam of the day has settled neatly enough to enjoy the quiet company of her friend, Kara can feel the exhaustion creeping in.
It seems to have already taken Lena.
The sigh morphs into a deep inhale which shifts Lena’s whole top half into Kara’s. They are no strangers to cuddling (Alex has made a few choice comments about it more than once) but Kara isn’t expecting her billionaire something to slide onto her; she winds up with an arm around slim shoulders, cheek pressed to the top of dark hair (down for the night), and a fistful of her shirt clenched tightly in a tense hand.
So when the sigh and the inhale and the slide come together, it’s natural for Kara to shift just that bit more and wind up laid out, ankles crossed with her thighs wedged underneath Lena’s still bent knees. It’s a little awkward at first but when Lena shifts in her sleep and relaxes, Kara tugs her closer with a happy sigh and inhale and slide of her own.
(Alex wakes them up in the morning and they look like this: Lena with her mouth pressed into the crook of Kara’s neck - accidentally! - and Kara’s hand half slid underneath Lena’s skirt).
They are both far too drunk to be this close. Lena, in particular, has sunk six whiskeys in the last hour and a half, Alex not far behind her, and now they’re close enough to count the freckles dotting across each other’s nose. It’s one o’clock in the morning; Ruby and Kara have passed out on the couch in the living room, mercifully oblivious to the mounting escalation in the en suite bathroom -- the agent’s apartment is modest and cramped, so Lena hiked up her skirt just enough and situated herself on the edge of the countertop. Alex swears she can see the hint of deep red lace, eyes headed skyward for a moment to think God in Heaven, give me strength. Her knees are on either side of Alex’s, rough black denim on flawless alabaster, ankles hooked at the back of her knees to hold her in place.
An open first aid kit next to Lena’s hip is the only real discrepancy.
Her skin burns at the too few points of contact: fingertips resting lightly on perfect curves, the cool softness of the inside of Lena’s wrist pressed delicately against her collarbone. They’re so close, Alex can feel short, intoxicated exhales ghost across her mouth and a breeze could knock them into kissing.
I want to make out with Lena Luthor is a thought which strikes with the subtlety of a lightning bolt.
There had been a fight, Alex remembers. Some of Coville’s warriors staging a siege on the DEO, leaving the agent with a sizeable gash across her eye. It wasn’t overly painful, though it most definitely needed stitches, yet with the recent triumph over Reign and securing Sam back into their lives, it seemed a pithy thing to fuss over. They’d piled into Alex’s apartment, gotten wasted and somewhere along the way, the two of them had wound up... here. Lena, a needle in hand.
“What’re we going for, Agent? Rough and tumble rogue... or should I do my best impression of a plastic surgeon?” Lena smiles lazily, pupils the size of saucers, long dark curls cascading over her shoulders as she tilts her head to look up at Alex. It’s endearing and cute and unbelievably sexy.
Alex doesn’t think too hard about the flicker of her eyes down the track of the body pressed loosely against her, the cling of a too-tight pencil skirt, long legs wrapped around --
“Don’t make me look like a pirate, I guess,” she replies, a little low, too raw to be played off as a sore throat. She watches Lena swallow and smile as if to say I know exactly what you were thinking, Agent Danvers.
“I’ll do my best.”
Lena gets to work, gently starting the stitches with enough finesse to lull Alex just a hint closer, and god help her, Alex can’t seem to help herself, hubris and pride roaring up to meet ego in a spectacular show down that has her looking this beautiful woman - who by all current indications would quite happily let Alex rail her on the sink right then and there - in the eye and asking about her little sister: “If Kara walked in right now, what would you do?”
The silence stretches on for what feels like an age until Lena finally responds.
“What do you think?”
The stitches have stopped and Alex pulls away. She’s watched Kara watch Lena, seen how the two of them revolve like planets being sucked into each other’s orbit. She’s watched the collide of stars. She’s not interested in being obliterated by the fallout.
Lena buys the penthouse. It’s a top floor, gauche thing that she hardly looks at when the estate agent shows her around, and spends more time than she cares to admit hating the idea of setting down roots. This is no sure thing. This is an amalgamation of game nights, James and his sweet smile, Alex’s random texts about quinoa and restaurant recommendations, and of course a certain reporter. A voice – which sounds too close to her mother for comfort – whispers they have left you without a clean exit.
