Chapter Text
Lena remembers the rain. She remembers it, because she remembers praying it wasn't the universe's way of telling her she was making a big mistake.
Lena remembers the tears. She remembers those because they sprang free after the "don't go "and the "please stay."
She remembers the wind, and the starless sky, and the way blue eyes bore into hers, sad and pleading.
But what Lena remembers most is the cold. The icy chill that started in her rain soaked shoes, that permeated her skin and her bones. She remembers it most because it's the last time she felt anything at all. She remembers it most because it's when her heart froze over and she was ready to become a Luthor.
—
At just 28 years old, Lena Luthor has been named to Forbes 30 under 30 five times, TIMES Most Influential People six times, and People's 100 Most Beautiful People a whopping seven times (and not to brag, but she was on the cover of that issue two years in a row).
So yeah, she knows she's a triple threat of some sorts - beauty, power, and brains. She isn't arrogant or presumptuous about it, but she does have a healthy dose of self assuredness that she supposes could be construed as narcissism to those who don't know her that well.
And since she can count on one hand the number of people she has actually permitted to get to know her, it is safe to say that approximately 99% of the time, the world thinks she is an egotistical, stone cold, bitch.
And honestly, Lena is more than okay to let them think that about her. It gives her an automatic advantage in the boardroom, where any trace of uncertainty is a sign of weakness, and it means people keep their distance. She likes when people keep their distance. In fact, if keeping people at a distance were an Olympic event, she would win gold.
Which, now that she thinks about it, might be the entire reason why she's in her current predicament, which is preparing for an interview with some CatCo reporter for the upcoming issue of Catco's 50 Most Eligible Bachelors and Bachelorettes.
It's hard to be in a committed relationship when one actively avoids people.
And the only reason she even entertained the idea of giving an interview for this article is because Cat Grant, media mogul, self acclaimed stone cold bitch, agreed to match L-Corp's donation to the charity of Lena's choosing. So yeah, just because she has been labeled as a stone cold bitch, doesn't mean she actually is one - at least 1% of the time.
"Miss Luthor, your one o'clock is here," Jess's voice cuts in through the speaker on her desk, effectively ending any and all hopes Lena had of this interview getting cancelled.
Lena stands up and smooths out the wrinkles in her skirt. "Thank you, Jess. Please send them in."
She decides she has just enough time to pour herself (and her guest) a quick drink. What she really wants is something that would take the edge off - she always thought she was more personable that way, but it's still early in the afternoon and the last thing she needs is to read an article the following day accusing her of having a drinking problem.
She pours herself a glass of water and takes a generous sip. She doesn't know why, but there's a feeling of anxiousness building in the pit of her stomach. The kind of feeling she gets when she knows she's forgetting something but can't remember what it is. She finishes pouring a second glass of water just as she hears her office door opening.
As she turns around from the drink cart to greet her guest, two things happen at once: the glasses in her hand shatter to the floor, and piercing blue eyes stare back at her, shattering her heart.
—
She must have stopped breathing at some point because she finds herself having to take a deep breath, struggling to get oxygen back into her lungs.
"Oh! Miss Luthor, are you alright?" Jess exclaims, rushing to her, looking her over to make sure that she doesn't have any visible injuries from the broken glass. "Don't move, I'm going to go get something to clean this up."
It snaps Lena out of her trance. Shit. "No, Jess, please. I'm okay. I have a dustpan and broom in my bathroom, I'll sweep it up myself." At her assistant's concerned look, Lena forces herself to smile, willing herself to act normal. "Really, it's fine. I promise I'll be careful." After hesitating slightly, Jess nods to her boss and excuses herself out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Still standing near the doorway is Kara, wearing a light pink cardigan over a sundress, the same blue eyes staring back through new glasses. She has a faded out leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder, with her initials engraved on the corner. If Lena didn't know any better, she would swear it was the same bag she gave Kara for their first Christmas together, almost ten years ago.
"Lena -"
"Please, have a seat," Lena cuts her off, gesturing towards one of the chairs in front of her desk. "I'm just going to clean this up first."
She makes a beeline to the bathroom and grabs the supplies she needs for the mess. On autopilot, Lena begins to sweep the pieces of glass into the pan. The small, methodical movements help keep her emotions at bay. Finally, when she feels her heart beating at a normal pace, she discards of the pieces and makes her way back to her desk. She finds herself face to face with Kara Danvers, award winning journalist, modern day Greek goddess, and at one point in time, love of her life.
"Why are you so tan?" Lena blurts out without even thinking, immediately cringing as soon as the words leave her mouth.
Kara shoots her a surprised look, clearly not expecting that to be the first thing Lena asks. "I just got back from Mexico," she answers hesitantly, trying to decide if she should keep talking. "I was, um," she clears her throat, "trying to follow up on a lead. I got to spend a lot of time at the beach."
A memory of Kara, lying on a beach in a bikini instantly flashes in Lena's mind. She shifts in her seat, praying that the blush forming on her cheeks might go unnoticed by Kara. It doesn't.
Kara shoots her a small smile. "It was beautiful there. Almost as nice as that trip we -"
"I don't think that's why you're here, is it?" Lena says curtly, hoping to curb any and all thoughts of the vacation they took together the summer before senior year that Kara was obviously referring to. "If I'm being honest, I really don't know why you are here. I must have made a mistake when I was checking my schedule, because I actually thought I was meeting with somebody from CatCo." Lena makes a show of clicking through her computer, trying to pull up her calendar.
"Actually, I am here on behalf of CatCo," Kara admits with a nervous laugh. "Cat called in a favor and asked me to write a feature on you and so, here I am."
"Cat Grant," Lena says pointedly, "asked you, a Pulitzer Prize winning investigative journalist, to write an article on why rich people are still single?" Lena arches her eyebrow at Kara. "I don't buy it."
Kara at least has the decency to look sheepish. "Well, she may or may not have known that we have somewhat of a history together."
Lena internally scoffs at the way she is so clearly trying to gloss over the details. Now it's Kara's time to blush.
"And why exactly does Cat know about our 'somewhat' history?"
"Oh, well, funny story," Kara starts, while nervously readjusting the glasses on her face. "I was her personal assistant for a couple of years, and I may have let it slip once or twice that we dated in college."
"So let me get this straight. Cat Grant knows you and I were together when we were younger, and now she's sending you here to ask me personal questions about why I still haven't settled down?" Lena half expects to hear a frantic it’s not what it sounds like, but it never comes.
"Yes?" Kara starts tapping her index finger against her thigh, an anxious tell of hers that Lena remembers well.
"You know what,” Lena says after a minute, mulling it over, “never mind. It sounds exactly like something Cat would do."
Lena can see Kara's shoulders visibly relax. As Kara gets herself settled in her chair, Lena takes the quick opportunity to study the woman sitting across from her. She looks the same as she did in college, but the way she holds herself is more dignified, more sure of herself. It looks good on her.
"Okay, great, now that that's out of the way," Kara starts pulling out a pen and notepad from her bag, "do you mind if I start asking you questions?"
The bag catches Lena's attention again, and she can't tear her eyes away from it. "Kara," she hears herself saying, deciding at that very moment that she needs to know. "Is that...is that the bag I gave you?" It's the second time in a matter of minutes she's blurted out what she was thinking. Lena internally curses herself for her moments of impulsiveness.
Kara glances down at the item in question, and blushes again. "Yeah, it is," she rushes to explain, hands now rubbing her thighs. "I hope it's okay that I kept it. It's just, it's the only bag that can fit all of my pens and notebooks and my lunch and my snacks while still feeling comfortable on my shoulder."
"No, no, of course it's okay," Lena saves her from an anxiety induced ramble. "I was just surprised to see you still had it." Lena looks back into Kara's eyes, feeling a familiar swoop in her stomach and tug at her heart.
Lena is surprised by how strong the urge to put Kara at ease overtakes her. The need to soothe her prompts her to admit something just as incriminating. "I still have the paperweight you made me during that one semester you took pottery. It's on my desk at home."
"Lena, for the hundredth time, it is not a paperweight! It's an expertly sculpted ice cream bowl. It even has a place to hold the spoon!"
Lena lets out a loud laugh at that. "It's tiny," she says, still smiling. "What could I possibly eat out of that?"
"You always ate small portions," Kara grumbles, earning another chuckle form Lena.
"I eat normal portions, they just look small next to yours." It's true. Kara used to swear that the party sized bag of potato chips were only enough for a party of one. "And the spoon holder is now a very convenient pen holder."
Their laughter dies down and they find themselves in a comfortable silence. Lena almost forgot how easy it was to be with Kara, can't remember the last time she laughed so effortlessly.
Kara breaks the spell first. Or, more accurately, Kara’s stomach breaks the spell first with a loud growl.
“Glad to hear some things never change,” Lena comments while Kara tilts her head and shrugs.
“Do you mind if we do this interview over lunch? I haven’t had a chance to eat yet and I am starving, if you couldn’t tell.”
Lena should say no. She knows she should. She has contracts to sign, phone calls to make, and a solid hour's worth of Research and Development time in the lab she made Jess block off in her schedule a month in advance. She's been looking forward to it all month.
The problem is, she wants to say yes. She wants to sit in a booth across from Kara and ask her about her life. She wants to know what she's been up to, and ask her about all the things she's seen. She wants to remember what it feels like to soak in the sunshine that is Kara Danvers.
So for the first time in seven years, Lena does what she wants, and she says yes.
And when she steps out of L-Corp and into the bright, fresh air, she prays that this is the universe's way of telling her she's making the right choice.
__
Lena most definitely did not make the right choice.
She made, what she can only describe as, the worst possible decision in modern day humanity.
It's three o'clock in the morning and Lena is lying in bed, wide awake, because all she can do is think about Kara Danvers and her stupid smile.
Kara Danvers and her stupid laugh.
And her stupid golden hair that shimmers when the sun catches it just right.
And her stupid biceps that looked like that when she took off her stupid cardigan.
She wasn't even flexing.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Lena doesn't know why she thought she could have lunch with Kara and not have an existential crisis about it afterwards. Her naivety was, for lack of a better word, stupid.
The worst part was, after they had talked and laughed for two whole hours, they both realized they didn't even have one conversation about the article.
Which is why, in the middle of the night, Lena finds herself agonizing over the fact that she is going to have to see her ex-girlfriend again.
She finally decides that the best way to handle this is with all the elegance and grace of a Luthor - she's going to lie through her teeth and tell Kara she's sick.
She'll say she got food poisoning from the restaurant they went to.
Except, that probably won't work because Kara will just feel guilty and want to make it up to her.
Stupid.
She throws a pillow over her face and groans, until an even more horrifying thought crosses her mind - Kara is going to ask her questions about her dating life.
In hindsight, she probably should have realized this sooner, but the shock of seeing Kara again after all these years rendered the logical half of her brain useless.
She frantically throws the pillow off her face and snatches her phone. She is going to text Kara right now and tell her she's not doing this stupid interview. There is no way she's going to sit across from her and discuss her personal life. Absolutely none. Surely Kara will understand.
Until Lena realizes that she doesn't have Kara's number.
At least, she doesn't have Kara's number physically in her phone.
She might have it memorized, though.
From when they were dating.
Seven years ago.
Lena lays there and evaluates all of her options.
She could go through with her original plan and text her anyway, hoping that A) Kara still has the same number and B) it doesn't look pathetic that she still has it.
Or, she could suck it up and face Kara like the adult woman she is, and get the money from Cat to donate to the Pediatrics ward at National City Hospital.
Admitting defeat, she throws the pillow back over her face.
T hey better name the new hospital wing after me.
It's the last thought she has before finally falling asleep.
__
"Okay, so, I'm just going to start asking you some questions," Kara says, adjusting her glasses as she finishes getting settled. "How old are you?"
Lena looks at her quizzically, wondering for a second if the reporter really forgot. "Kara, you know how old I am."
"I know, but I wasn't sure if you wanted people to know your real age. You'd be surprised by how many people lie about it." Kara scribbles down something on her notepad. "So it's okay that if I put down 28?"
Lena nods. "Yes, you can use my real age. I don't think I'm old enough to want to lie about it yet," she jokes lightheartedly.
Lena can't believe this is really happening, that Kara is sitting here with her. When they broke up all those years ago, Lena steeled her heart to prepare for the fact that she would never see Kara Danvers again. She wants to pinch herself to prove this isn't just another dream, where she wakes up and has those three quiet seconds before her world comes crashing down again and she remembers that she's alone. Those mornings were always the hardest, because it always left her questioning how her heart feels so heavy while her soul feels so empty.
"Alright, next question. What's your favorite color?"
For some reason, Lena finds this interview more amusing than she should. It's light and almost refreshing. If these are the kind of questions being asked, she thinks she can handle it. She thought for sure Kara would be asking her more probing questions, things she wasn't even sure she had the answers for. A sense of a relief washes over her and Lena can feel some of the tension leave her shoulders.
"Blue," she answers. "Though I would have to say that red comes in a close second."
Kara writes something down on her notepad again, crinkling her forehead.
"What is your love language?"
This question actually makes Lena pause. She hasn't really thought about how she expresses her affections. To be fair, she hasn't actually thought about expressing any emotion in years, but that's another story.
"I think it's acts of service," she answers thoughtfully, tilting her head. "But it could also be quality time. Is it possible to have more than one?"
"Huh," Kara whispers, completely ignoring Lena's question. "I would have said physical touch."
An uncomfortable silence follows for a few beats as Lena thinks back to how one of her favorite things in the world used to be the way she could nuzzle in Kara's neck after a long day. Or how many lazy Sunday mornings were spent in bed, wrapped up in each other, wanting to be as close as possible. She remembers holding hands and the way Kara's fit so perfectly in her own. And how she would cradle Lena's head in her hands, and brush her cheeks with her thumbs right before she'd lean down to kiss her forehead. Lena doesn't know how to say, yours is the only touch that has ever meant anything, without making things even more awkward, so she settles for, "I don't really love physical contact." She hopes Kara isn't picking up on what's not being said.
Your touch is the only one that's made me feel loved.
From the small nod and soft smile Kara gives her, Lena thinks maybe she did pick up on it.
Clearing her throat, Lena leans back in her seat, trying to tame the butterflies in her stomach. "What's next?"
Kara flips a page in her notes. She looks up and Lena sees a glint in her eye. "Would you rather do dinner and a movie or take a scenic hike?"
"I think we both know the answer to that," she smirks, glad to shift to a lighter question. She thinks back on the one time Kara made her go hiking and how miserable it was for both of them. It was miserable for Lena because she was sunburned and hungry, and miserable for Kara because she wouldn't stop complaining about how sunburned and hungry she was.
Kara rolls her eyes. "Yes, you can't whine about the sun at a movie theater," she deadpans.
"Luthors don't whine," Lena chastises. "We just openly voice our displeasure to those around us."
"Pffft," Kara scoffs, "you whined so much the birds started to hide. You whined so much -"
"Next question, please," Lena cuts her off, gesturing to Kara's notepad. "Preferably one that you can't tease me about."
Kara lets out a small chuckle and reads her next question. "Okay, here's a good one. What is your biggest pet peeve?"
"Reporters."
"Hey!" Kara shouts in mock outrage. "I'll have you know that reporting is a very respectable and meaningful career. If it weren't for reporters, how would people have access to vital information?"
Lena arches her eyebrow. "You mean, vital information such as my dating profile? Excellent point, darling," she answers sweetly, laughing as Kara rolls her eyes at her again.
The pet name just slipped out, and Lena is grateful that Kara doesn't acknowledge it.
"Fine, I wasn't going to ask this, but you leave me no choice." Kara sits back in her chair and smirks. "What's your favorite sex position?"
That catches Lena off guard. "You can't possibly expect me to answer that," she splutters, eyes narrowing, regaining her composure.
"No, I don't. But Cat told me I'd get a bonus if I could get you to answer," Kara's smirk is bigger than ever. "It was definitely worth a shot. And you deserve it after saying I'm your biggest pet peeve."
Fine. Two can play that game.
"I think you know the answer to that question, anyway," Lena says smugly, enjoying the way the blush creeps up Kara's neck.
The fact that Lena still has the ability to fluster Kara sends a little thrill down her spine. She can almost feel the heat radiating off of her, and it is definitely making Lena feel things that she hasn't felt in a long time.
Approximately seven years. But who's counting?
"Are there any more questions?" As much as she loves making Kara blush, she decides to put her out of her misery. While a spluttering Kara is adorable and one of her favorite things, Lena also realizes that she is approaching a line she isn't sure she wants to cross.
"Just the one," Kara answers, finally able to make eye contact again. And Lena knows this look. It's the one Kara uses when things are serious.
The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and Lena can tell that Kara is about to ask one those hard hitting questions she was hoping to be spared from. "Why do you think -"
"Sorry to bother you, Miss Luthor. Your next appointment is here." Jess's voice interrupts Kara, and Lena releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding.
The interruption snaps Kara out of her concentration, and she looks at Lena with a much lighter expression than the one she had only moments ago.
"I think I have enough material here to write something," Kara says as she starts packing her supplies back into her bag. "Sorry for taking up so much of your time." Her voice sounds tight, and Lena catches the slight trembling of her hands.
On instinct, Lena comes around her desk and puts her hand over Kara's. She wants to soothe and comfort her, and when Kara looks back at her, Lena feels everything. She feels the rapid pounding of her heart, and the blood rushing through her veins. She feels the Earth stop turning and time stop moving. She feels Kara's eyes searching deep through in her soul an she feels it. She feels that comforting warmth that she's only ever felt with one person. She feels home.
"Kara," Lena whispers, her own throat tight with emotion.
But before she can say anything else, Kara rips her hand away and leaves Lena all alone.