Hello, Lovelies! So, I've been super duper busy, but instead of writing a workshop submission, which is due in six days, for my next semester, this thing came out. I suppose it is a one-shot. Could be more. I have a million unfinished stories that I've promised you and no time to finish them right now. Let me know what you think of this one! I might extend it a little bit. Supercorp is my new obsession when I'm not being a professional writer. GUH and YAY all at once. I miss the immediate feedback from readers and haven't forgotten your loyalty! I shall return to my SwanQueen stories eventually. Promise. 3

I miss you.

Kara stared at the text. The newsroom buzzed around her, somewhere in the background, Snapper yelled his degrading yet accurate nickname, sounds of the city banged around in her super sensitive ears, Ms. Grant paced the floor above them in a huff at her new assistant, and Lena Luthor typed furiously on her laptop across town. Tip-tap. Tip-tap. Backspace seven individual times with excessive force. She'd not spoken to Lena in nearly six months, but Kara listened. She rationalized the invasion of privacy with the excuse of protecting Lena. It was a lie. Kara knew it was a lie. She missed Lena, but with the youngest Luthor now in the public eye, assuming her place at the helm of her family's multibillion dollar company, Kara knew it was only a matter of time before Lena needed Supergirl more than Kara Danvers.

Kara knew the day she met Lena that she'd have issues. Well, maybe not that day. She hadn't known who Lena was exactly until the next day. They bumped into each other at that fancy chocolate shop uptown where the price of parking made Kara want to check her bank account, but she'd broken Alex's arm under the influence of Red Kryptonite. Alex liked chocolate. Kara felt guilty. And then, Lena nearly toppled over when she turned from the counter and hit the solid brick wall of invincible Kryptonian with her chin on her chest. Kara caught her by the arms, saving people came so instinctively, so naturally. She'd never minded the sacrifices of becoming Supergirl because she never felt more like herself than when she was helping people.

Until Lena.

Lena who had waited outside that chocolate shop and took Kara's arm and demanded to be walked to her fancy red car, a Porsche Kara found out later. Lena who took her phone and enter her phone number as she bit her lower lip and texted herself so she'd have Kara's number. Pretty blonde with the sad eyes buying chocolate.

"You think I have sad eyes?" Kara said. It hurt, but it was true. It was so damn true. And Lena saw it. Lena saw her.

"I think you have beautiful eyes, but that's a bit superficial to say without knowing your name, isn't it?"

"Kara Danvers." She checked her phone. "Lena."

"Kara." The sound of her name rolled off Lena's tongue, fell from those bright red lips.

Those lips that Alex hated, especially when she found out who Lena was. Those lips that touched Kara in places that still made her shiver when she thought of them there. Those lips that made her want to give up Supergirl, give up her secrets, give up… give up everything. Those lips took the pain away, and Kara wanted to stay lost there, would have remained blissfully normal under their sensations if she hadn't loved Lena. If Lena hadn't loved her, if Lena wasn't a Luthor, but Lena had made her decision and Kara let her go because the thought of the world without Lena was like a world without Alex, a world without air, a world like Krypton.

Maybe Lena's world felt that way without Kara. She'd not given a great reason for ending their relationship of eight wonderful months, focusing on her career, finally getting a shot at being more than Cat Grant's assistant. Lena tried to fix it. Kara saw the desperation in her eyes, felt the ache when she flew through the city at night and listened to Lena cry because she couldn't sleep. Kara wasn't sleeping either, so she flew. She knew Lena blamed herself, blamed her family's reputation. Kara knew Lena felt more unlovable than ever, but even as deeply as Kara loved her, needed her, still she kept her secret guarded. Alex thought she wasn't able to trust Lena, but Alex was wrong for once. If Lena found out who she was, she might not love her anymore – not because she was a Super and Lena a Luthor, but because she'd lied to Lena for nearly a year. That was Lena's only request: "Don't keep secrets from me, Kara." She knew Lena had been damaged by her family, Lex's madness. She talked about it sometimes, but even without saying much, Kara knew. Secrets and ultimatums had destroyed her sense of worth, her sense of self.

Kara should never have gotten involved with her in the first place, but she hadn't known Lena intended to take over Luthor Corp until a couple months into the relationship. She should have ended it then, but she had been selfish. She was selfish, and now Lena had one more wound to heal. Now, Kara had to sit in CatCo Plaza and pretend that everything wasn't aching while she held her phone in her lap and read Lena's text and ignored Snapper and listened to Ms. Grant fire another assistant.

"Yeah, I heard you," Kara said and stood up from the chair he had finally grace her with for an article that should have made him get on his knees and beg her to write another.

"What's wrong with you?" Snapper looked up from an article without raising his head, glaring at her above the frames of his glasses.

Kara noticed the silence and glanced around the room to find most eyes on her, some blatantly staring and others peeking from the corners of bent heads pretending to read something in front of them. She relaxed the grip on her phone so it didn't explode in her fingers and slipped into the pocket of her salmon colored pants. She pressed her palms flat to her thighs so they stayed straight and not balled into a fist.

"Nothing," she said, not quite able to remove the irritation from her voice even with a conscious effort.

Snapper raised an eyebrow and stared. Assessing the situation, she guessed. Kara had never spoken to him like before, she'd never spoken to anyone at CatCo like that before except Cat when she'd yelled at her. Making a decision, he flipped the article shut with a flick of his wrist and tucked it under his arm.

"The president is arriving in National City tomorrow to sign the Alien Amnesty Act," he said.

"You want me to cover the president?" Kara almost smiled, almost felt that vivacious joy she used to channel every day.

Snapper scoffed, his neck puffing like a toad. "No, Wilson was in a car accident on his way to interview Lena Luthor. Go. Report. She's expecting someone within the hour and agreed to one exclusive interview, and for whatever reason, she's chosen CatCo Media. If you screw up building a rapport with the most sought after celebrity in National City, not even Cat Grant can save your job this time."

"You want me to interview Lena Luthor."

"That a problem?"

Kara looked around, still aware of the magnifying glass the newsroom had on her. She grabbed her bag and left the room, swift but deliberate in her steps. She walked. CatCo Plaza and L-Corp wasn't that far away. The path wasn't unfamiliar. She'd walked to L-Corp a hundred times, at least, in the past six months. She'd not meant to the first time. The first time she had wandered there without realizing that she followed Lena's voice giving a presentation about a new product to a room of investors. She stopped at the coffee shop she'd found that day and ordered a chai spice latte with coconut milk for Lena. How would the world have reacted if they knew Lena was lactose intolerant and preferred coconut milk over almond and soy? If it had been Cat's, she'd have heated it with her heat vision before she stepped into the building. What would the world have said if they knew Lena liked lukewarm coffee but piping hot tea with cinnamon in the evening? Kara wished she could forget.

She presented her press identification to the security guard at the front door. "I'm with CatCo Media. Ron Wilson was in a car accident." The guard looked suspicious, made a call that Kara never bothered to eavesdrop on because she knew he was checking her credentials. She looked around the lobby, stone and marble and metal, a huge "L-Corp" sign in the middle. It felt cold. It wasn't Lena, these were the remnants of her family that haunted Lena every day. Another tall, beefy man approached her and motioned for her to follow. He remained silent in the elevator and all the way to the end of the hallway where he knocked and then opened a large wooden door. The entire top floor was carpeted and open and bright. Dark wood panels lined both sides of the hallway, plants with flowers or bright green vines were scattered at intervals that seemed intentional. This felt more like Lena, maybe she'd had it renovated when she assumed control of the company.

Kara jumped when the door clicked shut behind her. She stayed near it, afraid to move closer to the woman correcting some sort of contract with an eccentric fury that bordered hysterical. Lena's long, thin fingers were white from the pressure she pushed onto the papers. A shock of black hair hung beside her face, the rest behind her back, setting off the deep red of her blouse. Lines etched Lena's exhaustion into her pale face, and deep purple bruises hung beneath her eyes. Lena hadn't even bothered to hide the emotional toll of taking over L-Corp, of her silent heartbreak. She wasn't even able to give the world a reason for her haggard appearance because she protected Kara's privacy. This was a mistake. Kara turned to leave.

"Kara?"

Kara turned to the side, head bent. Some of the latte had bubble up from the plastic lid, staining it a tan color. She took a breath but it had little effect on her pounding heart and raised her eyes to Lena's desk. Lena still sat there, pen in hand, leaned forward in concentration. Her position remained rigid and alert, but she'd gone still. Kara turned fully to face her and crossed to the desk with heavy step, like walking through water. Lena's shimmering blue eyes followed her, shifting to the foam cup when Kara sat it at the top left corner of the contract.

"Ron was in an accident on his way here. I… should have texted you when I got assigned to the article." Kara twisted her fingers in front of her stomach, a nervous tick she'd picked up from Alex.

"Why bother coming at all? You know my thoughts on alien amnesty well enough to write a convincing piece." There was a bite in her voice, but Kara saw the shock, the pain, the unguarded moment.

Lena pressed her shoulders into the tall back of the black padded office chair, searching for composure as they stared at each other. Kara sat in the chair across from her, dropped her bag to the floor, rubbed her hands over her thighs. Every movement felt like she'd been drained of her powers and now functioned at the speed of a normal human. The spice of the latte lingered between them, and Kara breathed deeply, allowing the familiarity of the scent focus her. Her gaze lowered to Lena's lips, her tongue remembering the taste of cinnamon that she come to expect there.

"I support the Alien Amnesty Act. I think aliens should be allowed to live openly as much as humans deserve to know who among them are not human," Lena said.

"I know."

"I suppose that is enough for an article. Try not to butcher me in the media. I've a horde of reporters doing their best at that." Lena leaned her forearms on the edge of her desk and bent her head to the contract.

"Lena…"

"Don't, Kara."

Lena's eyes jerked upward, piercing Kara's with their intensity. Kara's chest and neck flushed in anger.

"Why do you keep texting me if you didn't want to see me?"

Lena leaned back again, pen between her fingers, and Kara felt a predatory survival instinct awaken in the woman glaring at her, mocking her. She dug her fingertips into her thighs and held her gaze steady, not willing to wilt under that stare.

"You're here to interview me, Kara," Lena said. Her shoulders eased, and the tension dissipated as Lena twisted her chair towards the window.

"It's my job!" Kara's voice dropped into a low, harsh whisper, careful not to alert the security guard outside the door of any sort of friction. Lena swallowed and closed her eyes, profile visible but shadowed in the bright light of the sun filtering through the glass.

"It's my job," she repeated and looked at her hands. "You wanted me to come because I wanted to be here."

"Is that so awful?" Kara blinked away tears and forced herself to look at Lena, to witness the destruction of her decision. Lena's eyes remained closed, head resting against the padding of the chair.

"No," Kara said because she wasn't sure what else she should say. "I'm sorry, Lena. I… I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"It's alright, Kara," Lena said and shifted the chair to fully face Kara. "Just tell me why. If you don't love me, if…"

"It's not that." Kara shifted to the edge of the chair. She held her muscles taut, battling the urge to flee. She owed Lena this conversation, it was the least she owed her. "It was never that."

"Why, Kara? I thought our relationship was strong. I thought… I loved you. I love you."

"I have secrets." There. She said it, and the world hadn't imploded, not yet anyway. "And I wouldn't have been able to keep them from you if I had stayed with you." Kara stared at her fingers as she twisted them.

Lena shifted, moved with smalls clicks of her black heels. She knelt in front of Kara and ducked her head, forcing Kara to lift her head. The warmth of Lena's hand on her knee spread through her body, igniting the want that Kara had put to sleep.

"Tell me your secrets, Kara." Lena touched her cheek. Kara leaned into her palm. She couldn't help it. "Tell me now so we can work through them, so…"

"I can't, Lena. Please." Kara took Lena's wrist in a loose grip and pulled her hand from her face, holding it for a moment, sliding her fingers beneath Lena's palm. "Your life could be at risk if you knew, and I… Please don't ask me to, not until you're sure you're ready to know."

Lena jerked her hand back, and Kara watched a myriad of emotions cross through Lena's eyes. "Who are you?"

"What?"

Lena pushed off the floor in one smooth, swift movement that belied the muscles and agility hidden beneath the feminine clothes and high heels. She stared down at Kara, eyes cold and unforgiving. Kara let her believe whatever awful thoughts ate through the last remaining thread holding them together, acid to cotton.

"Who are you, Kara? Did Lillian send you to watch me?" Lena crossed her arms, using their proximity to force Kara to lean back at an awkward angle just to look up at her.

"I would never hurt you intentionally," Kara said, careful to remain ambiguous.

"Get out," Lena ordered. It would have been less frightening if she'd yelled.

Kara picked up her bag and pushed her chair back, giving Lena space before standing. She stopped at the door and turned back. "I still have to write the article."

"Fine."

"Snapper is going to send me back here when you permit CatCo to interview you."

"Why should I allow you on the premises, much less in my office?"

"Lena… He's going to fire me if you don't," Kara admitted, quiet and shameful for the unspoken request. "Do whatever you think you should. I don't have any right to ask anything of you, but… I'm in your hands."

Kara put her hand on the door, tried to leave but couldn't leave it the way it was. "Your latte should be about the right temperature." She had nothing else to offer.

Kara walked away and left her future in a 12 ounce, lukewarm latte and coconut milk.