Chapter Text
Lena Kieran Luthor wasn't a sloppy person.
She wasn't unstructured, or forgetful, and she certainly wasn't unprofessional.
From the moment she was taken in by the Luthor family, mere 4 years old and recently traumatised, manners had been drilled into her small body. Lena had learned quickly that her new family had two principles: be perfect, and never let anyone know when you fail. Her adoptive mother Lilian despised her from the moment she arrived, her watchful eyes never leaving throughout Lena's entire childhood. With her dedication and pressure, Lena learned Latin, Spanish and French before she turned 10 years old.
Lena was sent off to Mount Helena Boarding School when she was 11, the haunting letters from Lilian driving her to advance to fluent knowledge of Mandarin, Japanese and Russian, as well as mastering the arts of chess, fencing and etiquette. With the dawning claws of an extraordinary family heritage looming over her, Lena was pushed to become her greatest self. She had graduated at sixteen, obtained a Doctorate in Engineering at MIT at 19 years old and followed to complete degrees in Informations Systems and Computer Science by the age of 24.
All the more did it come as a surprise to Lena Luthor when only two years later, her adoptive brother Lex was revealed to be a master criminal, his crimes ranging from corporate corruptions over the destruction of ecosystems for monetary gain to straight up mass murder. Lilian, to no surprise, stood to defend him in court, outraged when she found her adoptive daughter holding testimony against him. After Lex was sentenced to life in prison, Lena was offered the position as CEO of the family's company LuthorCorp and accepted it with the intention to turn his legacy around and his fortunes into good, innocuous investments.
She was a businesswoman, a philanthropist and a billionaire. She was the most influential woman in National City, had ensured the atoning of Lex's crimes on all possible levels, and was continuously donating to charity and funding young, disabled or poor people. She had turned her company L-Corp into a symbol of hope, innovation and progress.
Lena Kieran Luthor was a mastermind—put together, rational and unwavering—and a feminist icon.
And—
She had fallen asleep on her desk.
Again.
"Don't you think that maybe, it's time to give your mind a little rest?" Sam's voice was gentle, an attempt at soothing something over that the woman knew was a dead end question.
"I can't," Lena sighed, swirling her glass of red wine. "You know I can't."
Sam huffed at the other end of the line. The static from the phone smoothed the silence into a lull. Lena was tired.
The last time she had slept more than 5 hours in a row had been weeks ago. And admittedly, it was her own fault. But a company didn't run itself, and an empire like L-Corp wouldn't last a week before the stocks fell. Lena had always enjoyed working, the undying focus and her clear mind all too addicting. When she was working, she felt useful. Needed. Like she was actually doing something good, despite all the things people said about her.
Or maybe, because of them.
Either way, work was Lena's solace. Her peace was there, in her grey and white office, a broad bland designer desk placed as the centerpiece and only the company of a leather couch, two automated coffee machines and a picture of her and her best friend surrounding her. She easily worked through 18 hours of documents, emails and contracts without so much as a lunch break. Were it not for her brilliant assistant Jess, Lena would have easily starved to death by now.
And yet, with all her achievements and breakthroughs in technical engineering, something was missing.
And Lena couldn't for the life of her fathom what it was.
"I think you could trust your coworkers a little more in their expertise and let go, Lena." Sam's voice was still soft, slightly muffled by what Lena assumed could only be the numerous cushions on Sam's couch. Her best friend had the wonderful ability to bring Lena to her senses, even in the most unwanted situations.
"It's not the lack of trust, Sam. You know I trust you and Jess," Lena corrected.
Sam huffed again. "Then what is it?"
"I can't just leave. Where would I even go?" Lena laughed at the irony. "My life is here, in National City. Leading my company."
"...Fixing the mistakes your criminal adoptive brother inflicted on the world." Sam finished, not missing a beat. "That's not a life, Lena. That's a sacrifice for atonement."
"I—" Lena protested, but Sam didn't waver.
"And I get it. Honey, I know how you feel. But you are not your brother's puppet, and your legacy isn't to repair his. Your life is worth more than that. And you have done enough, Lena." Sam halted, sighing. "You have done so much. Things are okay now, you're not 'the Luthor' anymore."
Lena scoffed at that, a bitter taste on her tongue. She raised her glass, lips pursed in disgust, "I will always be 'the Luthor', Sam."
Sam rustled on the other side of the phone before her voice rang clear and soothing again. "Lena Luthor, the billionaire businesswoman, yes," she agreed. "Not criminal Lex Luthor's scum sister."
"Master criminal," Lena corrected, sipping her wine. "He worked hard for that title."
The sound Sam made could almost be considered a laugh, and Lena's lips curled upwards with it. Talking about Lex was easier to endure when humour was involved.
"Give yourself a break, honey." Sam's voice was oozing out the speaker. "Take the summer. A few months. Get out of here and live."
Lena scoffed. "A few months? You're insane."
"I can handle your empire, Lena. I've been working by your side for 3 years now, involved in every contract and decision you made. If there's anything going on, I will let you know. And when you come back, you can get settled back down in your fancy office and throw yourself right back into it."
Lena knew she could trust Sam. She knew that Sam was more than capable of keeping L-Corp on track and steady. Instead she asked, "What will the press say?"
"We'll inform them that you're on an extended business trip in Europe, forging contracts with future business partners. They swallow that shit like drugs."
"Language," Lena warned, "you have a daughter."
Sam just laughed. "I mean it, Lena. Take some time. Find something to take some steam off."
It had been merely a week since their call when Sam reached out with news on the matter. An email, the subject reading 'Lena Luthor lets some steam off'. Lena couldn't help but smile.
Sam had sent her a various links to activities and summer stay opportunities like simple holiday houses on the east coast, a two month hiking tour in the Alps between old wooden huts, a luxury safari tour in west Botswana, house sitting in Kagoshima, Japan, an ocean wildlife restoration project in Australia, a house boat rental service in Norway, a farm workaway in Ireland–
Lena halted.
Her fingers curled over the mouse wheel, the link appearing back on her screen.
Ireland. A farm.
Her mother was born and raised there. Her real mother.
Later, Lena finished work well past midnight, she stepped through her front door, set her bag down on the kitchen island and walked over to her bedside table. She slid open the top drawer and pulled out the only thing in her possession that remained from her mother.
A necklace, its core an obsidian shaped into a gaelic rune, held by dark worn leather.
A gift to Lena. A sign of her heritage—or maybe a lead all along?
Lena felt weird, rubbing her thumb over the smooth cold stone, trying to grasp the memories that had once been so vivid.
Maybe Sam was right.
Maybe she needed a break, and a few months outside of this city. A few months where she could be Lena—the version of herself that existed before her mother died. The version that she thought she'd never find again.
Two weeks and three long conversations with both Sam and her assistant Jess later, Lena Luthor was sat on a flight across the Atlantic Ocean.
She had only reluctantly agreed to the absurd idea of staying on a farm with a total stranger for several months. But when she opened the link and messaged the woman that had offered the position, she was presented with an invitation right away—and no excuses to bail.
The profile had looked clean, backed up by a legit address, pictures of the land, the stables and a few horses and goats. The last picture had shown a dog, a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback in a fluffy dog bed, mid-chew on a chewing bone.
The woman had been kind and straightforward in her texts, inviting Lena in and asking no further questions on her back story or her last name. To Lena, that felt a little odd, very unsafe and simply irrational, but she would take it. The more low profile she could be, the better.
No one needed to know a billionaire was coming to shovel shit.
When she had been packing with two nights to spare, her wardrobe kindly reminded her how often she was actually going out to do farm work, or any kind of physical activities besides her Friday yoga. Which was—unsurprisingly—not at all.
So annoyed, and slightly embarrassed, Lena had gone shopping. And she had gone in the men's section, at Sam's request, and bought a few pairs of simple trousers and loose fitted shirts and jumpers. She hadn't particularly liked the looks of them, and trying them on felt odd—like she was transforming into a different person—but she had bought them anyway and neatly folded them into her suitcase, next to her designer clothes, laptop, and toiletries.
"A coffee, Miss?" The flight attendant had looked at Lena, a polite smile on his face and a tray atop his hand. "Snacks and drinks are free in business class, Miss."
Lena had shaken her head, flashing him a tight smile and moving her privacy screen up when he had turned. She hadn't felt thirsty, and most definitely not for lukewarm filter coffee. Her experience with flight snacks had been similarly disappointing.
While it wasn't her first transatlantic, it certainly knocked her out just as much, and Lena was absolutely knackered by the time she fell into her soft white linen hotel bed. Luckily, the airline hadn't misplaced her luggage or delayed the arrival unnecessarily, and so while it was only 5 pm in Dublin, Lena drifted into sweet dreams behind closed curtains.
She woke—much to her dismay—at 4 am. Groaning, Lena rolled over in the king sized bed, one of a quality that she knew she wouldn't get to indulge for at least a few months. Her back was going to kill her.
Not dwelling too much on the rising sentiment, she got up, slipped into an oversized sweater—one of those she had bought only a few days prior—and made her way over to the small countertop that was home to the hotel room's kettle and coffee machine.
While the machine was whirring, black drops of steaming liquid squeezed out under its strain, Lena checked her phone. There were a few messages from Sam, mostly her wishing Lena a good flight and then, about 7 hours later, a good night, but nothing special. Her email inbox was quiet too.
Yet.
Lena knew it wouldn't take three days before different departments of her company would reach out to her for further details on her trip, even though she had held a meeting regarding her upcoming absence at the end of the last week.
When Lena collected her mug of coffee from the machine, its lifeless body coming to a stop with one last groan, she drew open the curtains to the city before her. From the windows, she had a neat view over most of the rooftops, the sky only barely painted with the suspense of dawn.
Lena liked this—waking before the city, drinking coffee until she couldn't physically close her eyes anymore, and waiting for her body to slowly drift into work mode. She would get some projects done before going out for breakfast at a normal time.
The train was perfectly punctual.
Lena wasn't.
Rushing through the ticket gates before the platform, her heavy suitcase held tightly in a white knuckled grip of fear, Lena instantly regretted putting on her favourite pair of stilettos.
A young man in uniform flashed her a smile, asking, "Are you meaning to take the train to Galway?"
Lena nodded, lips tight.
The man grimaced, and she could only watch in dismay as he lifted his arm, his finger unmistakably pointing at the short train at the very end of the platform. "It takes off in 2 minutes. Do you need help with your luggage?", he offered, his polite smile now smelling of pity.
"No, thank you," she declined courteously.
And then she ran.
Despite her early terror, Lena enjoyed the ride a lot. She watched the grey outskirts of the city fade into endless green. Trees, fields and bushes as far as she could see. The sky was painted a soft blue, a few clouds hovering over an ocean of life.
Truly, in all her life, Lena had never seen so much green, and so many shades of it. She understood now, the reason why this place was often referred to as Emerald Isle.
Flat lands were exchanged by soft hills, and then suddenly proper mountains, the train entering three tunnels before they slowly faded back into an even horizon. She spotted a few houses every now and then, and sometimes the train passed through a small town without stopping. Cows were everywhere, but also sheep. Occasionally, there were fields with goats and horses, and Lena even got a glance at a deer before it jumped away into the bushes. Hours passed, and Lena was slumped in her seat, headphones in and soft tunes humming through her head as she simply watched.
She only noticed that the train was pulling up to its final destination when the elderly woman opposite her slowly collected her things and climbed out of her seat.
Galway's station was small, and as she got off the train Lena decided to follow the masses to the exit first. The woman she was meeting—Kara, if Lena remembered right—had offered to pick her up from Galway, despite her farm being further south. A kind gesture, Lena thought.
When Lena had made it out of the station, her belongings still with her, she pulled out her phone. Following the link back to the website, she opened the last message that the woman had sent. A phone number, and the request to text when she had arrived.
Reluctantly Lena tapped the number and opened a new contact. Then, she pulled up her messenger and gave her host a heads up.
Putting her phone away, Lena stretched out and took a look around. The streets weren't empty, but there was no rush to anyone's step either. A sign led her around a corner down a street that looked promisingly like the city centre. Lena had her foot halfway in the door of the first pub, hanging buckets of colourful flowers adorning its facade, when her phone chimed happily.
Kara(?): Very nice! I'm parked in the lot by the river, a mere 2 minutes walk from the station. Should I pick you up or are you coming over?
Lena sighed. No drinks, then. Yet.
The parking lot was truly not hard to find. Lena had saved herself the embarrassment of getting picked up like a toddler from the first possible point, instead walking down to the river and attempting not to break both ankles in the cobblestone road.
When she finally looked up again, the pavement under her feet now smooth and steady, she immediately spotted a broad, blonde woman with a flashing smile.
At first glance, Lena thought she was mistaken, that the woman was simply looking at someone behind her. But the closer she came, the clearer it became—the woman was grinning at her.
Lena was a bit blinded by the mere force of her smile, a toothy, carefree one that she hadn't quite seen since middle school. So much so that when she stopped at an appropriate distance for strangers, her eyes were challenged taking the woman in all at once.
"Hi, I'm Kara," Kara offered, and with it an outstretched hand.
A hand that was, mildly put, a sturdy body with long, calloused fingers, unmistakably strong in its grip when it embraced Lena's. Despite the sheer power below the skin, Kara's grip was gentle and careful, her touch light.
Lena's eyes traced the slightly exposed veins on its back up her defined forearm, her gaze clinging along the maroon flannel shirt Kara had rolled up to her elbows, the way it was stretched and pulled by broad shoulders and a strong neck.
When Kara retracted her hand, Lena shifted to look at her face. There was still a smile on her pink lips, but it had shifted into an almost sheepish expression, bright blue eyes staring back at her.
Only then did it occur to Lena that at least a few seconds had passed, and she still hadn't answered. "I'm Lena Lu—" A beat, in which Lena desperately attempted to pull herself together while Kara patiently waited. "Just Lena."
Kara's smile came back in full force. "Okay, 'just Lena'. Shall we get that treasure of yours loaded?"
The woman winked as she fished her car keys out of her trousers and unlocked the light grey Škoda Karoq she had been leaning on, clearly not bothered in the slightest that she wouldn't get to know Lena's last name. Kara opened the boot, moved a small foldable box to the side and smoothed out the plane that spread over the boots bottom.
Lena reached for her suitcase, attempting to lift it, but then there was a touch to her forearm, gently fingers pulling her away. "Let me, I got it."
So Lena could only watch as Kara lifted her suitcase—at least a 30kg monster—with an ease that resembled picking up a pillow.
And suddenly, very unexpectedly, her mind tipped into long buried desires. Heat pooled into her stomach at the sight, a spark flickering in her chest, unwanted and inappropriate. Lena bit the inside of her cheek, gulping and forcing her gaze towards the trickling water flowing in the riverbed behind the cars.
She wouldn't start this summer of self discovery with a stupid crush. She wouldn't.
"Alright, all set. Are you ready to hop in?" Kara had resurfaced, and her smile with it. Or maybe it had never left.
Lena nodded, her lips curling upwards involuntarily, a slight flush to her cheeks.
Kara's car was clean, well scented and spotless. The engine purred as the blonde woman manoeuvred them out of the parking space and down the roads to the city's outskirts. The windows were slightly opened, fresh air drifting through the cracks.
The temperature was quite low for May, but Lena learned quickly from Kara that it was one of the warmer, better days of the month. Rain, as it seemed, was the recipe to the Island's charm: endless water supplies kept the plants growing and the flowers blooming—and the population in their raincoats.
Kara laughed about it though, the sound of it like a warm hug. She didn't mind the rain, or the clouds, she told Lena.
While they made their way down the country lanes, the car rolling smoothly over clean pavement, Kara was mostly telling Lena which roads led to beautiful ruins, long beaches and amazing views—and which towns had the best shops and the cutest restaurants.
And Lena let it happen, her body slowly slumping into the soft fabric of the car seat. Kara's voice was soothing, laced with smiles and excitement, the perfect sound to relax to. Lena was exhausted, and it was her own fault for getting up so early in the morning.
But Kara didn't seem to mind, her gaze finding Lena's at every stop sign and street light, checking in. "We'll be there soon," she promised softly, "then you can rest."
When the car finally slowed down, the wheels turning into what could only be a driveway, Lena sat up in her seat.
The thin, paved road ahead was winding up a hill, fields to the left and right. Trees were splattered across, and a sturdy wooden fence surrounded the area.
They rolled up the long driveway to a truly stunning cottage style house, placed right atop the hill. The light grey stone walls hugged the house all round, reaching up to the second floor where they merged into a gable roof. The roof was laid with metal tiles, solar panels installed on the side facing the driveway. All window frames, doors and the pillars holding the small roof of the short porch were painted in a stunning dark green, a satisfying contrast to the light stone.
Lena drew in a breath, her mouth hanging open helplessly. Kara chuckled beside her. "Do you like it?" she asked sheepishly.
"Kara, it's gorgeous," Lena breathed, and at the blinding smile that made Kara's eyes sparkle like stars, she almost added a thoughtless like you.
"I am quite proud of it," she admitted as she pulled a remote key out of the cupholder between them, opening the rising gate to the garage hugging the left of the house, the colour scheme the same on it.
Once inside, Kara turned off the engine and jumped excitedly out of the car. Lena scrambled out of her seat, rounding the sleek beast to its trunk, and was beaten by Kara, her suitcase already in those strong arms. Kara huffed slightly as she set it down, the only indicator that it didn't weigh as much as a songbird.
"There," Kara grinned, her blue eyes sparkling in the lower light of the garage. "Follow me." And then she sauntered off, ducking unnecessarily under the still open garage gate.
Lena could only rush to follow, a red flannel her beacon in the unfamiliar waters.
"Technically, there is a door from the garage into the house, for the shitty weather days," Kara said, having slowed down to a walk, approaching the front door, "but I just love coming in through here." She stepped under the porch roof with Lena close by. Kara closed the garage door with the remote and let it slip into her trouser pocket. The doorbell sign read 'Danvers'. "It's a totally different vibe."
Kara was right. It was a totally different vibe.
Walking through the entrance door, Lena found herself in somewhat of a foyer. Not big, but spacious enough for a shoe closet, a shelf and a wide coat hanger, rain and weather coats splattered across it. She slipped out of her stilettos—gladly—and was instantly a few centimetres shorter—not so gladly.
Kara led them through a double door into the hallway, a winding staircase as the centrepiece of the space. Doors led left and right and a corridor reached down the left. It was instantly clear that the colour scheme continued inside the walls, all doors and doorframes painted in a dark green, the walls remaining a soft white.
And right there, by the bottom step of the stairs, was a fluffy grey dog bed with a beautiful Ridgeback rolled up inside. The dog looked up as they came in, its tail wagging as it stepped up to Kara. The woman leaned down, her golden hair flowing off her shoulders as she greeted the dog.
"Hello my baby, who is my beautiful girl? Hm?" She scratched the dog's head as it started curling and stomping happily before her. "Yes, you are. You're my good girl. My beautiful baby."
The dog. She is talking to the goddamn dog, Lena. You're not that sex deprived.
Lena breathed, straightening and letting the scene unfold. After a moment, Kara stopped touching the dog and turned to her. "Lena, this is Maya. She's my roommate and she will be your personal cuddle supplier for the next few months. I hope you're not allergic," Kara winked, and Lena could feel the way her cheeks warmed a tinge.
"I'm not, don't worry," she assured, her eyes finding Maya. "She is beautiful."
"She knows." Kara grinned, giving the dog another pet. Then she turned back to Lena. "Alright, the bedrooms are upstairs, and so is the kitchen and living area." Kara gestured lazily to the ceiling. "I prefer it that way, the view is just so worth it."
Lena nodded, familiar with the choice of design. Two of her summer houses had the same layout.
"Down here is my office, a guest bathroom, a workshop, straight ahead will lead you to the back door and these beautiful doors on the right lead to what I like to call the rotting room—" her eyes widened comically, "—not because it's moldy, I promise it's as clean as any other, I just—" she scrambled, an adorable flush creeping up her neck and spreading on her cheeks, "I like to rot away in it, doing stuff that I enjoy, and when I have guests I usually spend my time with them there, and I—"
"It's okay, Kara," Lena soothed, her hand unthinkingly finding Kara's forearm and pressing against the firm muscle there. "I know what you mean."
Kara's fearful expression smoothed into a relieved grin, "Oh, good. That would've been quite weird otherwise."
Lena offered a genuine smile at that, giving the arm a last squeeze before letting go.
"Alright, so I better show you your room and then you can get settled in."
Kara led them up the staircase—of course only after stealing Lena's suitcase from her and picking it up effortlessly—and down a hallway to the left side of the house.
She pointed at a door to the right, "This is me. If you need anything just give it a knock or call my name and I'll be there." She continued a few steps further, stopping in front of a door to the right. "And this is you. You have a view of the backyard and the stables, lucky you. There's a bathroom behind the other door, feel free to use it, it's all yours."
Kara finally let go of Lena's suitcase, rolling it towards her with an effortless grin. "If there's anything else that's not quite right, just give me a text. I'll go and feed the animals soon so I won't be in the house, but I'll be back later to make us dinner."
At the sound of food Lena's stomach comically grumbled, and she groaned at it. Kara just laughed. "Someone can't wait, I hear," she smirked, winking. Then she brushed past Lena, twirled and disappeared down the corridor.
Lena sighed, grabbing her suitcase and pushing open the dark green door into her new habitat for the upcoming months.
And she was happily surprised.
The room had windows both to the garage's side of the house as well as the back, the view was truly stunning. A clean, modern bed hugged the corner to her left, a dresser was placed under the windows in the corner opposite, and a desk with an office chair stood below the window ahead. The door on the left wall was surely where Lena's ensuite was hiding, and a broad wardrobe towered over her from behind the door.
It was spacious, simple, and clean.
Lena got to work unloading her suitcase.
The remaining evening went by quite calmly. Lena had gotten to writing two emails before Kara's text let her phone chime happily. Dinner was ready.
And Lena was not disappointed.
Despite the quite messy look of the kitchen, Kara was wearing a bright smile, and the room smelled fantastic. It was only a simple pasta and sauce recipe, some vegetables stirred within, but the warm food unfolded just the same as a fancy meal on Lena's tongue, the flavours seeping into every vessel of her body.
She couldn't help but hum contently, drawing a chuckle from Kara. "I hope that means you like it, then?"
"Definitely," Lena assured her, a smile flashing in her eyes.
Once they finished, Lena collecting the dishes to start washing up, Kara's touch found her shoulder in a gentle grip. "Oh, no, no, no. You will not be cleaning my mess."
"But—" Lena protested, but Kara didn't let her finish.
"No buts. Get some rest, tomorrow will be rough. The first days are always the worst. I'll take care of this," Kara assured, nodding encouragingly.
An image of Sam played itself in Lena's mind, in the way she would force Lena to rest just the same, and look at her through the entire process with that same unyielding kindness and care.
Her chest tugged painfully at the thought, the simple reminder of her favourite person being so far away. Lena had to text her still, let Sam know she was safe, and cared for. Maybe she would mention how nice Kara was, how bright her smile was, and how it made Lena feel strange things.
Maybe.
Lena was woken at 8:30 am by a knock to her door.
Confused, slightly disoriented and still very much in her nightgown, she opened the door.
Kara stood right there, eyes glinting and her blonde waves up in a messy knot. She was fully dressed, rocking a flannel, this time light blue, and right jeans that hugged curves Lena hadn't spotted the day before—and surely wouldn't ever miss again.
And Kara was flushing furiously, her gaze fallen helplessly to the cleavage that this gown, despite its comfort, sadly revealed to the world. Lena usually didn't mind it as much, it wasn't like she ever had people in her house long enough to slip into a nightgown for them to see, but now she felt incredibly rude, standing so revealingly in front of her host and making her visibly uncomfortable.
But then Kara's eyes flicked up, fluttering between hers in a state of—Was that interest? Lena knew the signs for discomfort, and Kara wasn't showing them, so the half-baked apology she was going to sputter out into the tension between them turned into a smirk on her lips.
"Good morning," Lena cooed, and Kara's blush turned two shades darker.
"I—" she started, her whole arm pointed down the corridor towards the kitchen. "Breakfast. Is ready."
Lena's smirk widened, and she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sudden nerves vibrating from Kara's very aura.
"If you want any," Kara added, defeatedly lowering her arm, her gaze flicking away.
"Sure, sounds good." She raised her arm to the edge of the door, her eyes locked on Kara and that adorable flush. "I better get dressed."
Kara nodded. Then, after a few seconds, her eyes widened and she turned and sauntered off.
Lena couldn't help but chuckle.
By the time Lena made it to the kitchen, Kara's flush had vanished, only a smile remaining. Lena was dressed more modestly, despite the adrenaline rush she had gotten from their earlier encounter. Kara was too much of a stranger to be unnecessarily teasing her, and Lena was still her guest.
She didn't want things to start off tense and awkward, that would just be unpleasant for the both of them.
Lena was greeted by Maya, a wiggling and dancing furball to her feet, the moment she stepped through. She smiled, leaning down and scratching the dog in a greeting. "Hey," she whispered with a smile. Then she let her go and had a look around.
Kara had conjured a breakfast feast, and truly too much food for two people. There were scrambled eggs, a freshly prepped caesar salad, multiple types of bread as well as various options to lay on top, cereal, yoghurt and juice.
Lena felt her mouth water as she stepped up to the table, but truthfully her head was pounding with that familiar scream for coffee. She desperately needed a cup.
"Is something missing?" Kara eyed her from her stool across, eyebrows raised and an observant look on her face. She had filled her plate with bits of everything already, the portion bigger than what Lena usually had for breakfast and lunch together—but then again, Lena didn't really get to eating when she was working, and she was always working, so it all didn't mean much. And Lena definitely wasn't one to judge others or their food consumption, especially not someone so kind and welcoming as Kara.
"Do you, by any chance, have a coffee machine?" Lena basically begged.
Kara raised her brows even further, a smirk creeping on her face. "I may have something you'd like," she said, winking and getting up from her seat.
She walked over to the kitchen area overlooking the backyard. The whole space was one joined room, the dining table as the centrepiece dividing the living area—a corner couch and two deep armchairs set up by the windows on the right—from the sleek kitchen setup going around the corner on the right, an island into the room providing the induction stove and oven.
Kara rumbled around the kitchen for a minute before joining Lena back at the table with a steaming mug of the familiar black void. Lena couldn't help but hum contently at the smell, her hands cradling the warm pottery like a long lost child.
"A friend of mine enjoys a cup when he comes over, that's why I have some, but I don't drink it myself," Kara explained, a smile on her face as she watched Lena melt into the liquid she was holding like a precious gift.
"How can anyone not drink coffee for breakfast?" Lena murmured, sipping and sighing at the taste.
Kara just laughed heartedly. "You know, a bunch of animals that love you unconditionally and a cup of tea every now and then just seem to do that to you."
It was a while later, when Kara came down the stairs into the lobby with her flannel tied around her waist, waterproof over trousers making her legs look bulky despite the tight jeans Lena knew she was wearing underneath, that Lena had a mild heart attack.
Because truly, she was not ready.
Nothing in her strict and planned life had prepared her for Kara Danvers in a tank top.
A charcoal grey skintight tank top.
Lena broke into a coughing fit, the air in her lungs suddenly deciding neither out nor in was its preferred choice.
And Kara was there, immediately. She jumped down the last steps in rushed concern and in a blink there was a steady—and sturdy—hand on her shoulder and ocean blue eyes searching her gaze.
"Okay now, you're okay," Kara soothed, and it really didn't soothe anything because now her lips were moving and with it were the muscles in her neck flexing and Lena was truly way thirstier than she had expected. "Just breathe, Lena."
The coughing stopped, and then Lena straightened with the last of her grace, facing a slightly taller Kara and her sculptured shoulders.
Lena tried not to stare. "Thank you," she breathed, still mortified.
"No problem," Kara winked, "now let's get going. I bet Getrude and Siglinde are starving already."
Getrude and Siglinde, as Lena learned, were the two Pygmy goats that Kara kept as living lawn mowers. Judging by the field they were on, they were quite effective.
"Come on, Lena," Kara called from inside the fence, two goats close to her feet, "They'll want to meet you."
Lena sighed, letting her head drop on the arms she had leaned over the top bar. So apparently, she would be petting goats now.
Cute goats, she wouldn't deny. But goats nonetheless.
She walked through the gate and up to Kara, who was beaming at her while scratching a goat—Siglinde?—behind her ear. The blonde rose as Lena stepped close, her blue eyes sparkling.
"They eat a lot of grass during the day and night, but I still feed all my animals at least twice a day. It helps them get all their nutrients and stay healthy." Kara was bending down again, now petting the other goat that had walked up close to her and sniffed on her leg. "Back when these guys were shaped by evolution, the grass had way better things in it. Nowadays, that's just not enough for them anymore. We killed all the important stuff off with our agriculture and mingling with wildlife, and the consequences are beet pulp for everyone."
Lena frowned. "What?"
"Beet Pulp." Kara said, grinning.
Lena just crossed her arms, raising her brow.
Kara's eyes flickered at that, her throat bobbing once with a gulp. "It's the waste that is left from farming sugar beets," Kara gave in. "The horses rely on it more, but it helps my goats keep their weight steady. It's necessary to be mixed with grain though, and I have some supplements that they get mixed into their breakfast as well."
Lena hummed. "I see."
Kara pulled out two leading ropes from under her flannel and held one out for Lena to take. "Now the first challenge of today. Can you tame a goat?"
Lena actually chuckled, the laugh slipping from her involuntary, and Kara grinned at her success. "Tame? These don't look like they're much of a problem."
"Oh? Is that a challenge I hear?" Kara's grin widened, her eyes glowing. "Please, go ahead. Take either one to the gate." She stretched her arms out to sign at the goats that were grazing close by.
Lena scoffed, sauntering off towards them. But then, as she got almost close enough to reach one with her arm outstretched at ready, the goat—Gertrude?—snapped her head up, bleated and ran off, bucking over the field in a big circle. Lena rose, turning to stare at Kara, only to find her bent over laughing.
"Hey!" Lena called, crossing her arms. "Stop laughing."
Kara raised her arms in surrender, still shaking with giggles. "Sorry," she said, clearly not sorry at all.
Lena groaned and slowly approached the other goat that was still close to her. She got almost close enough to reach the goat when it lifted its head at her. Lena leaped forward in a terrible attempt to catch the collar around its neck before it could run off, but of course, the goat was quicker.
Lena was too mortified to turn back around to Kara. She would catch this damn goat, no matter how hard.
Luckily, it didn't run off far, and Lena immediately followed it, steadily getting closer. When she was two steps or so away, she took a deep breath, her hand around the leading rope tightening. She could do this.
Lena skipped towards the goat, and this time, she was close enough. Her fingers glided over soft fur as the goat started moving, but Lena was steadfast in her success. Her fingers curled around the collar, her feet planted into the ground, ready to hold on—and the goat jumped.
Lena was pulled out of her until then considered bomb proof stance, and dragged forward until she fell on her knees. The goat bleated again, Lena's hand still rock solid around its collar, and promptly turned back to eating grass.
Lena was aware how utterly pathetic she must've looked, getting almost toppled over by a goat that was barely reaching her knees, but she fastened the leading rope on the collar anyway, gripping it tightly as she straightened.
When she turned, Kara was grinning, her hand around the collar of—Getrude, the traitor. Of course. "Don't." Lena warned, her glare piercing.
"I wasn't," Kara defended, raising her hands again. The grin around her lips remained.
They led the goats through the gate, and of course the damn animals let themselves be led easily like Lena hadn't just done the workout of her life to catch them, and down the footpath towards the stables.
The building was a stone build with the same design and colour scheme as the house, placed behind the garden in the backyard. It was an L-shape form hugging the plastered courtyard in the middle, a fence surrounding it into a square.
"One side of this building holds the boxes for the animals, while the other has space for the tack room, the shed, my workspace and a utility garage," Kara explained excitedly as she opened the gate to the courtyard.
Lena led Siglinde past her and waited for Kara to close the gate behind them. They made their way over to a big box, the sign over the door reading 'Gertrude & Siglinde family home'.
"That's adorable," Lena said, pointing at the sign as Kara pushed back the lever to open the door.
The blonde woman grinned wide, nodding. "I know. They are my two gay lovebirds," Kara shrugged.
Lena couldn't help but smile back.