Chapter 75: 75 | Really Bad (Good) Photography
The smell of vegetables being stirred around in the pan wafted around the room, Lena happily pushing the food around with a spatula as the radio played some pop hit softly in the background. The youngest Luthor was incredibly relieved that her near sub-par cooking skills were no longer as abysmal as they used to be, giving her a success rate of seventy-three percent (seventy-three percent being that there was a seventy-three percent chance the stove top didn't go up in flames and engulf the entire apartment block, which would ultimately and undoubtedly result in Lena being imprisoned for arson).
She snuck a cube of ham into her mouth as her fingers tapped lazily on the countertop, sneaking another sip of the red wine in her glass. The orange glow of the setting sun painted a pretty scene as the furniture in their open-plan apartment basked in its warmth like a gentle liquid fire. Streaky was sunbathing on the other side of the room, stretched out on his bed like a small toddler. Lena had come home early today, no need for Jess and her polite encouragements to leave the office.
Well, 'polite encouragements' being, '
Lena laughed quietly to herself remembering that Wednesday night. What on earth would she do without Jessica Huang? Probably drown in paperwork and perhaps maybe become arrested for strangling one of those irritating board members for making a borderline sexist comment without Jess to hold her back. Lena paused, hand floating in the air in the middle of reaching for the wine bottle for a top up. Her mind was conjuring up an awful lot of jail scenarios tonight, maybe she should stop drinking until Kara got home.
Ah, Kara Zor-El Danvers. The love of her life and the woman who she was going to marry soon. The very same woman who had tempered all of her sharp edges and made a home right in the muscle of her heart, dodging all of the iron defences and barbed wire within.
Lena let her mind run to all the happy thoughts filled with a certain blonde reporter while she busied herself with putting the seasoned chicken into the oven. Her ears perked up when she heard the click of the key from the front door, opening to reveal the taller woman with a bright grin on her face.
Instead of a greeting, the words that tumbled out of Kara's lips were far from.
"Aw man, I was gonna cook you dinner!"
That drew a soft chuckle from Lena and she watched her shed her jacket and shoes, but not before peeking into the pocket of the coat as if making sure something was there. Kara walked over and placed a bakery box on the counter, engagement ring glimmering from its spot on her left hand.
Lena raised an eyebrow in question. "Everything okay, Kara?" She immediately sunk into the arms of her fiancée in an embrace (the word 'fiancée' still made her giddy like a teenager with a crush), relishing in the feeling of her being close. The smell of Kara's perfume wrapped around her in a soothing manner, familiar and warm. Lena could — and would — spend eternity in those arms. She felt a kiss being pressed on the top of her head.
"Perfect," Kara murmured into her hair before half pulling back. "Though you did totally upstage my romantic gesture of cooking dinner." An adorable pout slid its way onto her face and even after three years, Lena really should be more immune to those pouts of hers.
"Well if my success rate doesn't pull through, the stage is yours," Lena replied, pulling her in for a kiss, sweet and gentle. Keeping her arms wrapped around Kara's neck, she peppered quick pecks on the reporter's face. "But I'm really not wanting you to ruin another pan."
"Hey!" Kara let out an indignant whine, "that only happened twice."
"Well, darling, I really don't want to make it a third." Lena poked Kara's cheek, feeling the muscles give way into a smile. "Besides, I handle dangerous chemicals and compounds for a living, what's a bit of hot oil and the looming threat of salmonella?" Her latter comment was slightly tinged with a nervousness.
Kara let out a laugh, "Famous last words, babe. It's you I'm worried about. I have, as Wynonna once lovingly referred to as 'insides made of steel.'" Her voice was matter of fact as she spoke and the hands around Lena's waist gave her a reassuring squeeze.
"Cooking is just measuring out ingredients precisely and following instructions," Lena reasoned, stepping out of Kara's arms to put a lid over the vegetables to keep them warm. She looked over at Kara, amusement tugging at her lip, "Which explains why you can't cook."
"I can follow instructions!" Kara protested, crossing her arms.
"Tell that to the number of times you've rushed headfirst into a mission without thinking," Lena countered.
"Touché," Kara fired back, unfolding her arms and bringing her hands and cradling Lena's face in them. She sighed into the touch, unconsciously leaning into the points of contact. "I'm a lot less reckless now," Kara said softly, blue eyes shining with understanding, thumb stroking across Lena's cheekbone. "I have people I love to come home to. Not to mention I'm a lot older and wiser now."
She brought her in for a kiss, Lena's hands instinctively going to Kara's waist, tugging her close, fingers tracing the familiar planes of her hips. They stayed there a bit, completely lost in their own little bubble, trading kisses that made Lena feel like she was floating. Or perhaps she was actually floating for her fiancée could actually fly.
"Older, sure, but wiser?" Lena hummed exaggeratedly as if in deep thought once she pulled back, a rush of affection hitting her when she noticed the faint smudge of her lipstick around Kara's mouth. "Not sure about the wiser part, love." Kara's eyes crinkled as she laughed, pure and joyful. The blonde's hands had meandered to grip securely around the small of her back, and Lena's own once again found their way threaded in Kara's soft hair, messing up the half-up-half-down look the reporter had put it in that morning.
Lena spoke again, heart jumping out of her chest as she yelped, "Kara, we're floating."
"Oops," Kara grinned out, gently setting them down from where she had hung them both about two feet off the floor.
In the end, Kara only had to laser vision the chicken once and eventually stopped fussing about whether it was actually cooked or not, leaving Lena to plate up and take their meals to the small circular dining table. Kara trailed behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses, setting them down with a clunk at their places. The made small talk about their day, Lena listening attentively at Kara's excitement over the interesting people she had interviewed that day, and in return, she was graced by Kara's focused gaze when Lena told her about ideas for a bio-gel which could be applied to wounds to speed up healing. Their comfortable routines always made a nice calm settle in her bones, with Lena being a very organised woman with a rigorous schedule.
Not that she didn't like surprises either, but she was especially not fond of the quarterly assassination attempts she kept experiencing. During the first few years after Lex was sentenced seventy-three lifetimes in prison, her schedule was jam-packed with unscheduled murderers trying to kill her (honestly, they couldn't even make an appointment?). For a solid year after she moved to National City, ninety-percent of her press conferences ended up with at least one explosion, but luckily because of Supergirl, none of them had resulted in civilian fatalities.
It was Kara Danvers who had made her realise that surprises didn't always include a bloodbath, the cocking of a gun, or being thrown over the balcony like she was a hay bale in a tractor trailer. In fact, it was Kara who made her realise that surprises could be nice, and pleasant, and fill her stomach with a longing to be in the reporter's presence. It was a slow and gradual process, only dropping in unannounced once a month with lunch until Lena felt more comfortable at their growing friendship between them.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
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