Chapter Text
Kara was in the middle of enjoying the view of the bright blue sky and billowing clouds mix into the towering skyscrapers above when she went about recalling her day. It shouldn’t have been a bad day, in fact, it had been absolutely lovely up until this point. The sun was shining, her favorite meal of potstickers still resided in her stomach from an early lunch and today was her weekly hangout with her sister. But, here she was, laying spread eagle in the middle of the road with her blonde hair messily pooling around her head, rough asphalt digging into her back and alarmed screams milling about her supine body.
Since everyone was so set on ruining her private viewing of the sky above, she tilted her head slightly to the side and noted her mangled bike lying next to her. It had been a gift from her friend Winn after getting fired from her job at Catco a month ago.
You see, being Supergirl had its own set of unique challenges involving getting thrown around like a ragdoll, kryptonite ravaging her body from the inside out, having bullets repeatedly attempt to mar her skin due to criminals with stagnant thought processes (because, seriously…just stop trying to shoot her. It’s basically just littering with bullets).
However, the one thing that the public probably never thought would be an area of need for the superhero was keeping her day job. Well—her other day job. But then that day came where Kara’s boss at Catco had finally heard the last declaration of, “I was out of town,” or “I was out of town…again?” when attempting to cover up her frequent absences due to, you know, saving National City all of the time. She was shown the door, and honestly, Kara was surprised they tolerated her truancy as long as they did.
That left her high and dry, literally, as she flew home clutching the sacred personal items from her desk and trying to keep that “dry” part still true as she held back her tears.
After about a week of Kara wallowing in a job search to fund her daily caloric intake of 5 body builders, Winn showed up at her apartment with a bike and an idea.
“It’s just to get you back on your feet…or pedals in this case!” He smiled and presented her with an old single gear that had chipped blue and red paint adorning it’s steel frame. “Since you love spreading knowledge and awareness, being a bike messenger is kind of the same, just on a smaller scale. Plus you get to deliver information by zooming around National City on this beauty!”
Her first reaction was to laugh. Going from a journalist to a bike messenger was…quite the leap. But after noticing Winn’s genuine facial expression and hint of excitement, the humor of it all shifted. It kind of made sense, she could pedal all day and not even break a sweat, weave in and out of traffic safely using her super senses and maybe add a gear to this rough around the edges mode of transportation with her super speed.
So Kara got herself a job at National City’s Lightspeed Delivery, ironically enough, and quickly made a name for herself as one of the fastest couriers. And, why didn’t Kara just literally fly around the city in order to deliver these packages, you ask? “That’s not what I’m being paid to do!” Kara defended when her sister Alex inquired about Kara’s stubbornness of carting around the metal and wheels, which just slowed her down. “I’m a bike messenger, Alex, not a fly-around-the-city…messenger!” Kara not so elegantly tried to explain.
She had anticipated this question, among others, regarding her new job.
What she hadn’t anticipated, were dogs. Cute dogs, to be more exact (not that there were any other kind). National City was riddled with them and they were completely Kara’s Kryptonite…well, her other Kryptonite.
On this particular day a golden retriever puppy had stopped to romp around with a dachshund and Kara reasoned that she could look for just a second. Just one measly second of pure puppy happiness is all it took for her to end up here. For the tires to screech in her ears and a large dark mass of a black sedan to collide with her supposedly fragile human body.
Her bike, which was once a steadfast iron horse, turned into a mangled mass of metal and impending unemployment lying next to her.
Should she run? Should she fake injury? Should she point in the other direction claiming to spot Gillian Anderson in order to meld into the crowd of concerned citizens?
Kara’s question was answered shortly when one of those citizens impeded her view of the birds flying overhead as a woman’s head popped into the picture unfolding before her. Dark hair obscured her vision like a curtain closing in on the world and the scent of sweet perfume guided her back to the present. Concerned swirls of green and blue cast down at her and the stranger was saying things like, “Oh Jesus, are you okay?” and, “I’m going to hunt down my new driver and kill him. I can’t believe he just got out of the car and ran after hitting you!”
Kara thought she may have found her own personal angel. The breeze rippled through her dark blue satin blouse and formed a pink hue on her clenched cheeks. Sunshine streamed around her head forming a halo of sorts and Kara could have sworn she heard horns reverberating from a crack in the heavens above.
As it turned out, it was just a car honking and the woman responding with a, “Fuck off you twat!” in turn.
So maybe not an angel.
“I’m okay,” Kara finally breathed out. She tried to sit up, but felt a soft pressure on her sternum prompting her to stay put. Kara moved her own hand to remove the pale one from her chest and propped her upper body to sit upright.
The pale hand multiplied into two and began roaming Kara’s body in search of something.
“You are absolutely not okay, my driver just hit you with my car! Where does it hurt? Does it hurt here, or here? God, there could be internal bleeding…you need to wait for the ambulance.”
Kara eyed the woman, still lightly squeezing parts of her body and looking for a grimace or yelp in pain from her, but finding only amusement.
“Usually someone buys me dinner first before getting this handsy, or at the very least I know their name,” Kara admitted.
The citizen stuttered in her movements and immediately pulled back. “Right, sorry, I have some medical knowledge so I just thought I could—Lena, my name is Lena.”
Kara slowly rose to her feet, much to Lena’s obvious detest, albeit slowly because Kara had at least learned to mimic a semblance of pain over the years of growing up next to humans. She rubbed her side, like the friction could magically heal a fractured rib or a burst organ.
“I’m really okay, most of the impact was on my bike,” Kara tried to explain as she motioned to the sad red and blue pile of metal tubing. It resembled less a bike and more those multicolored wire mazes kids play with in waiting rooms.
Lena’s face contorted in confusion as she looked to Kara, to the bike and then to the obvious Kara-sized dent on the hood of her car. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to insist that I take you to the hospital. I’ll obviously pay for all of your medical bills if that’s the issue holding you back,” Lena tried to reason. “And, you know, I can compensate you for any lost work from--“ Lena’s eyes darted to Kara’s shirt with the Lightspeed Delivery logo proudly stretched across her front, but then drifted next to her, distracted by something. “Oh my God, is that your helmet?!”
Both women looked towards the bright red bulb of protection that Kara only wore for show and had loosened the strap quite liberally, to find a flat depression marked on the side with jagged cracks stemming from the epicenter of impact.
“Jesus,” Lena remarked and turned back towards Kara. “You could have…” Lena trailed off and whatever had been holding her together enough to assess the situation started to break apart at the seams. Her hands that had once been steady turned to trembling and her concerned eyes began to well at the edges.
“Umm, lemme just,” Lena clenched and released her hands in an attempt to solidify their movements enough before bringing them up to cup Kara’s cheeks. She stared with intensity, her watery eyes jumping back and forth between Kara’s own. “Your pupils are the same size, that’s good. Although I’m not sure how your glasses survived,” Lena remarked.
Kara wasn’t going to tell her that after breaking about 20 pairs when changing from Kara Danvers into Supergirl that Winn finally constructed a pair that could literally survive bombs, let alone a measly car collision.
Right when she was formulating an excuse for her intact frames, she felt a thumb brush lightly against her temple. Lena then removed her hands and cleared her throat, trying to reassemble her previous demeanor, but not before Kara could grab one and hold it tightly in reassurance.
“I’m alive, I’m okay. Promise.” Kara gave her most convincing smile.
Sirens wailed in the distance then, causing Lena to turn in distraction. “You really should have the EMT’s at least—” she cut herself off when she went to return her attention to the bike courier, only to find something that used to be a bike and a lonely red helmet rocking back and forth in the breeze.
There had been coverage in the news regarding the hit and run that night, but no names were mentioned and it was thankfully overshadowed by Supergirl saving a school bus full of children…so Alex, her sister, only yelled at her a little bit when she come over that night.
“You could have been found out! You need to be more careful, Kara!”
Kara nodded along on the couch in her apartment, accepting the outburst for what it was, her sister caring about her. And if Kara’s explanation regarding why she was distracted on her bike in the first place was, “Supergirl business”, it wasn’t Alex’s fault if she interpreted that as something different than Supergirl’s love for puppy parties.
Kara went into work the next day hoping that she would be able to bum an old bike from one of her coworkers that typically resided at Lightspeed Delivery’s home base. However, when she stepped into the dimly lit office riddled with a mismatch of furniture collected from Craigslist and curbs, she found her coworkers huddled in the corner all admiring something.
She pushed her way into the group and her eyes caught the gleam of a brand new, state of the art, carbon fiber road bike. It looked to have a custom paint job that matched the sun worn colors of Winn’s gift to her (RIP) and a note was attached to the freshly wrapped handlebars.
It read:
To the blonde woman hit by my car of Lightspeed Delivery,
I must apologize again for my driver yesterday and encourage you to seek out medical attention if you feel necessary (your boss has my info). In an effort to make things right, here is a bike replacement, as your former one was deemed “totaled” by 3 bike shops. I apologize if there was sentimental value, I had the bike repairwoman at least attach the old pedals to this one as they were the only items still usable. I can’t apologize enough, and I’d like you to know that the authorities have found and arrested my cowardly idiotic driver.
Best,
Lena
A tall man with coiffed dark hair gave a low whistle. “Maybe I should get hit by a car.” He looked sadly down at his bike with duct tape holding the seat together.
Kara nudged the man with her shoulder, “O shut it, Ray. I told you, I hopped off the bike just in time. It could have been bad.” She winced at her lie.
“Yeah, just in time to get a new bike.” Ray nudged her back with a smile. He had been her closest friend at work thus far, both constantly comparing the fastest routes around the city on slow days with the map on the far wall of the shop.
“Alright, ya hooligans, enough dilly dallying. Let’s get packed and ready for the day!” A gruff voice with a variant of a British accent bellowed out. “Kara! You’ve got a special request!”
She approached her boss, John, who sported bleach blonde hair and a black tie that hung loosely around his neck, like he’s already had a long day even though it’s only 6am.
“Number one, I want you to take the advice from your lass’s letter over there, if you do in fact feel any injury from yesterday,” he waggled a fatherly finger in her direction. “Number two, you were specifically asked to make this delivery today.” He handed Kara a piece of paper with instructions of the pickup and drop off. “Number 3, make sure to lock up that new bike or else these lug heads will try to take it out on a date or something.” John looked over at the group still collected around Kara’s new steed. “Oy! Stop groping that carbon fiber and get to work!”
Kara stood in the elevator wearing a tank top already tinged with sweat at the edges, cut off shorts to the knee and a square package strapped to her back. All the while surrounded by suits, blouses and curious eyes.
She didn’t mind though, she was used to being the odd one out. An optimist fighting the tide of realists, a smile in a crowd of frowns, a literal alien amongst humans.
Once Kara reached the floor that was scribbled on her slip of paper, she found herself alone in the elevator car, as she was now at the top of the building. She rechecked the address and saw no recipient’s name. When her gaze drifted back up to her surroundings Kara noted a single desk positioned outside two large opaque double doors and a lone woman typing away furiously at her keyboard. Kara tentatively exited the elevator and quietly approached the source of the soft clacking.
“Morning, I have a package for the person at this address,” Kara almost whispered because it felt sacrilege to speak any louder in the bleak quiet only broken with key strokes.
The woman held up a finger with her eyes still locked on her screen, and after about a minute of Kara rocking back and forth on her feet with the weight of the package pulling her slightly to the side, the seated professional glanced up above the rim of her glasses.
“You’re the bike messenger?”
Kara nodded. “That’s me! I just need you to sign—”
“You can head right in.”
Kara stared dumbly. Typically, in scenarios of this upscale nature, the secretary would accept whatever Kara was delivering. She had never been directed past the gates into the realm of quarter million dollar salaries and mid-day scotch drinkers.
Kara went to question her, but the secretary was already reabsorbed back into her world of emails. So she turned to the double doors, adjusted her glasses from sliding down her nose and entered into the office. It was white. Blindingly so, and it caused Kara to peek under her shoes to make sure she wouldn’t be tracking in anything from the city streets she regularly bustled against.
“You really are Lightspeed Delivery, this wasn’t set to arrive for another thirty minutes.”
Kara quickly swiveled towards the far side of the office to find the woman from yesterday, Lena, standing with her hands on her hips against a backdrop of pristine windows framing a view of National City.
“You…” Kara breathed out and stood stock still.
Lena chuckled. “Yes, me, Lena Luthor. And you, Kara Danvers. Former reporter from Catco and currently the top bike courier at your delivery company.”
“You’re Lena, Lena Luthor? CEO of L-Corp? I got hit by Lena Luthor’s car?” Kara thought of Winn, Lena Luthor’s fanboy, and whispered under her breath, “I feel like people would pay to get hit by your car.”
Lena’s eyebrow shot up, obviously having heard that last statement. “What kind of people do you hang out with, exactly?”
“How did you find me?” Kara deflected.
“Well, you literally wear your place of employment emblazoned on your chest.” Lena pointed to the design on her tank top. “Anyone with a simple knowledge of Google could have found you.”
“Right.” Kara rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment, which Lena interpreted differently.
“Do you feel whiplash from yesterday?” Lena’s humor died out and she took a concerned step towards the messenger, hand held out and ready to assess.
“No, no. I got checked out and everything was fine, like I said.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Alex was sort of a doctor and a sort of doctor yelling at you was basically like getting a check-up, right?
“Also, If I do have whiplash it’s only from you startling me when I walked in here,” Kara joked, trying to get their conversation back on course for friendly and light.
Lena’s hand fell back down to her side, “Well I’m glad you’re alright.” She awkwardly motioned to the package attached to Kara’s back. “So you got it okay then?”
Kara registered the weight on her body and pulled her bag around to take out the parcel that had led her here. “Yes, Ma’m!”
Lena approached Kara, but instead of taking the package, she just signed the slip of paper on top and took a step back. “Well, open it then.”
Kara furrowed her brow. “Typically you do that part.”
“What can I say, I’m high maintenance,” Lena explained.
Kara let out a breath and took out a pocket knife she kept in her bag for emergencies on the go. After slicing through the cellophane tape, Kara peered into the box with disbelief. She reached in and after excavating the item from the packing peanuts, she revealed a very sleek and sturdy helmet.
“It has the top safety rating regarding head trauma and collisions when riding bikes.” Lena beamed with excitement mixed with nerves. She took it in her hands and began explaining all of the different safety features it contained, including the fact that she basically invented the material the shell was made of, but all Kara could focus on was the woman standing in front of her.
“Why am I here, Lena?” Kara interjected.
She immediately regretted her choice of words though because of the visible hurt that skittered across Lena’s face, which wasn’t what she wanted at all. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you could have just sent the helmet with the bike, right? Which you really didn’t have to do by the way because that thing is like, wayyyy nicer than my other bike. Although I obviously greatly appreciate it and everything.”
Kara blew out a long breath at the end of verbalizing her stream of consciousness.
Lena clenched the helmet tightly and voiced her response barely above a whisper, “You just left yesterday. Do you know how worried I was about you?”
Previously, Lena had been a possible hinderance. Someone who could have outted her as Supergirl. A worry in the back of her mind. But now, Kara really saw her. A woman (beautiful, at that) who obviously felt horrible about what happened yesterday, felt genuinely concerned for her well-being and was going out of her way to try to make it better.
Kara reached out to hold the helmet on the other side, using it to tether them together in some way. “I’m really sorry about that, I think I just panicked. I don’t really like being the center of attention and there were just so many people…” She gave Lena a gentle smile in an attempt to alleviate any extraneous worry. “Thank you for everything, the bike and this helmet, but you really didn’t have to do any of this.”
Lena huffed. “Kara, of all of the things in my life I shouldn’t have done, this isn’t one of them. In fact, you should probably get ready for a slew of other things I shouldn’t do for you, but will regardless.”
Kara stared in awe at this concerned citizen, CEO and possible angel. She didn’t know it then, but she was soon to find out that Lena Luthor was a woman of her word.