Chapter Text
“Kara, honey, are you home yet?” Lena called out as she kicked off her heels and balanced the bags of take out in her arms.
The quiet of the penthouse greeted her as she hurried toward the kitchen. As she turned on the lights, the city outside disappeared from the large windows. Their home became its own universe, with just the faintest bit of galaxy outside.
The dog shakes as he wakes from his nap in his bed, the tags on his collar jingling as he hurries toward his owner and the smell of food.
“Hi buddy, working hard today?” the CEO teased, reaching a hand down to rub soft, velvety ears.
Before they even got married, Lena remembered the day Kara showed up with a scraggy, matted mutt in her arms under the pretense of finding him tied up and abused and in need of a home because the shelter was closed so late.
Two baths, three vet visits, six weeks, and two sets of pouty puppy dog eyes later, Lena had to relent. The truth of it was, she felt safer with the monstrosity of a dog that big-pawed puppy turned into almost overnight. Freddy was a sweetheart who couldn’t even be bothered to chase a butterfly, who got yapped at by tiny dogs at the dog park and took it with his tail between his legs, but who had a bark that was absolutely terrifying.
“Give me a few and we’ll go walk,” she promised as he sniffed and nudged her hip with his huge nose. “Remember when Kara brought you home and said I’d never even notice?”
All she got was a floppy tongue and wagging tail.
In the hall, a few pairs of heels were a disgruntled little mountain. Pictures were hung with pride. Lena took great pains to make sure that her home was filled with pictures of their escapades. Vacation snapshots, candids from brunches, their wedding, birthdays, Saturdays at the cabin, holidays with the hodgepodge of a family they created for themselves. All of those moments were glimpses, and Lena loved catching them from time to time.
Arms finally emptied, the CEO fired off a quick text and began digging for glasses and plates, preparing the spread that her wife would absolutely make sure there were no leftovers.
On days that she beat Supergirl home, Lena almost felt like a good wife. Most of the time, that was an abstract and fleeting feeling. But something about bringing dinner and already being changed into something more comfortable felt like a victory, she realized as she changed out of the skirt and shirt that made her feel too stiff to be home.
It wasn’t that she was a terrible wife, just that she always thought she could be better. A perfectionist in every aspect of her life, despite Kara’s reassurances, Lena hated the occasional long stretch of hours that kept her crawling into bed too late, completely missing an entire day of any meaningful conversation with her already snoring wife.
The dog got his walk, and already found his way to the couch, not even pretending to listen to the no furniture rule. Lena gave up because she secretly taught him that despite always sassing her wife about it.
There was a rule in their house, that dinner was to be a time with no work, but when Kara didn’t respond to her text, Lena took it as her chance to pull up some notes and scroll through them while the television played the end of the basketball game she’d wanted to catch.
When she still didn’t hear from Kara and the food had grown cold enough to be boxed up and put away, when the bottle of wine was half gone, when the television switched to infomercials instead of anything valuable, Lena sent another text and waited.
Even when she was explicitly busy with Supergirl stuff, Kara made sure to text, and that was what kept Lena from losing her mind some nights. Somewhere between fretting and debating, she fell asleep on the couch, curled up on one corner as tight as she could. It was the quiet turning of a key in the door that woke her.
“Hey,” Kara smiled as she closed the door behind her. “I thought you’d be asleep.”
“You didn’t text. I was worried,” Lena yawned and furrowed, staring fixedly at the bundle in her wife’s arms. “What’s that?”
“Don’t be mad.”
“Whenever you start any conversation with those words, I always end up mad, Kara.”
Separated by the living room, by an entire day, by a looming conversation, each looked at the other, silently pleading for it to go easily. Their tiny prayers were only interrupted by the tiniest of gurgles and rumblings of complaint from Kara’s arms.
Still exhausted from the hard life, Freddy raised his head and whined before realizing he was safe to stay there and not get involved.
“Just let me explain.”
“Don’t you do this to me, Kara,” Lena shook her head, short and quick, her finger pointing at the bundle. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s just until morning. She was left on a train. Just left there. I’ve called a social worker already, and first thing in the morning–”
“Kara…”
It was the sorest of subjects; probably their only fight. The image was a dream to Lena– her wife holding a baby, all perfect and beautiful and happy. It was something she never let herself imagine because it kept being snatched away from her.
Kara knew about the Luthor parents. She heard bits and pieces of Lena’s childhood, and it couldn’t have been farther from her own experiences with both of her sets of parents. It bred a kind of apprehensiveness in the heir to the fortune and name. Motherhood was probably the scariest thing to Lena, and that was saying a lot.
And then they reached a point, the point, the place that seemed hopeful. And they tried, because Lena could be fearless for Kara, the girl who swooped in and gave her hope and made her think she could be better, who gave her a better name, who made her a better person. They wanted the same thing, somehow.
Deep below her fear, she wanted nothing more than to be a mother. And they sat at the doctors and they got the results and they tried for a year and that didn’t work. It took another year to convince Lena to adopt. And when they were two days away from their own, the mother pulled out. Kara found Lena in the nursery they’d spent months decorating, quietly boxing everything up.
“It’s not. It’s not anything like that. It’s… She just– I had to do something.”
“I have to take the dog out,” Lena lied. “Come on, Fred.”
With a few taps against her thigh, the lumbering oaf slid off of the couch and pranced around, finally moving toward Kara, nudging her hands, nudging the blankets in her hand, the diaper bag on her shoulder.
All Kara could do was watch it happen, watch Lena slip on a coat and gab the leash. She didn’t give a second glance to the infant, she didn’t meet her wife’s eyes again before the door closed and she made her way out into the hall.
“Believe it or not, that went better than expected,” Kara hummed to the tiny thing in her arms.
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A normal walk, depending on weather, was around the block, or possibly up toward the park. Lena kept walking in circles. Every time they approached the entrance to their building, Freddy would veer toward the doors he knew so well, toward Pete the overnight doorman with the treats in his pocket, and every time, Lena would decide they needed just one more lap.
It wasn’t just a baby. Kara had hope, and Lena could see it the moment she entered the house. This was her fix all, her quick fix, her heroic streak.
Three hours, Lena meandered around the city, growing angry and then calming herself, getting upset and then being amused by fate and the future. Carefully she oscillated back and forth between every feeling that she worked so hard to keep very, very bottled up.
She unlatched the dog and paused at the door as he padded into the kitchen, slurping up water with his tags hitting the edge.
On the couch, Kara dozed with her foot gently rocking a swing left over from the last time they babysat their nephews. She sat up quickly at the noise of her wife returning.
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” Lena offered.
“Wait, Lee, please,” she stood, careful to avoid the sleeping infant.
“I don’t want to do this. One night. That’s it.”
“I didn’t mean for it to hurt you. This isn’t… it’s not… She was…”
“Kara.”
“Can I explain?” Kara asked, hands on her hips.
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Someone discarded her. Left her on the train with a bag of supplies and a note. I stopped that train from speeding off the track. She hasn’t even gotten a chance yet, Lena. It’s just for one night.”
“It’s not just for one night!” she finally yelled the truth. “You saw her and you thought it was a quick fix and that this was our chance. But we don’t get a chance, Kara! I don’t get a chance. It isn’t working out for us and I’m sorry, but–”
A loud scream erupted from the swing, upset by the noise. Little fists waved as eyes stayed shut, knit tightly together as a toothless mouth warbled.
“I wasn’t thinking anything,” Kara mumbled. “Except to give her a safe place for the night. I’m sorry, Lena.”
Fumbling, Kara looked away as the noise continued. She picked up the infant and held her close to her chest, gently cradling her head and bouncing slightly. The baby kept screaming though, crying against a world in which she was abandoned for just existing, a world in which she didn’t even yet fathom how terrible things could get.
“Can you…?” Kara moved, though Lena recoiled slightly. “Can you just hold her? I haven’t gotten her to eat yet. I’m going to try to make another bottle.”
“I’m not… that’s. You know I’m not good with little… I mean. The boys are older. I haven’t.”
Her wife shook her head and looked, wide-eyed and full of terror at the weeping baby. A shock of black hair curled almost behind an ear. Little fists beat with no force at Kara, looking for more support, more something.
“It’s just like with Noah when he was younger,” Kara promised, reminded Lena of how much time they spent with Alex and Maggie’s little ones.
“I didn’t pick him up til he was four!” she argued.
“Come on,” she smiled. “Here.”
Very delicately, they passed the baby. Lena clutched hat her and got that first whiff of baby that intoxicated her beyond reproach. Naturally, her hands moved to where they needed to be, and they rubbed the onesie and she cooed close to her ear.
“It’s not a diaper thing?” she asked, looking at Kara quickly.
“I changed her just a bit ago. Let me go get a bottle ready.”
“Wait. Don’t leave me.”
“I’m just going to the kitchen,” she chuckled. “Sit down on the couch. Relax.”
“What’s her name?”
The screams wavered and became just whimpers.
“She hasn’t told me yet,” Kara called from the kitchen. “I’ve been calling her Rosie. I found her at the Roseland Street station.”
Freddy hopped up on the couch and curled into his corner after sniffing at the youngest inhabitant. Her hair got inhaled slightly with his huge breath. All Lena could do was try to not look at her. If she looked at those eyes, and if she saw that nose and those cheeks, she would start to want one again, and that was a process that broke her down so hard she wasn’t sure she’d been rebuilt.
If this was Kara testing her, she was ready to fail and move on with her life.
And then she peeked. She looked down and wiped the wet cheeks and leaned forward to grab a towel and dry nose. Calm, peaceful eyes stared back at her, glassy and ready to go again with the slightest provocation.
“I didn’t bring her here to hurt you, Lena,” Kara mumbled as she finally made her way back into the living room. She took a seat on the coffee table and handed over the fresh bottle. “I know what trying did. It was… it was hard on both of us, to have our hopes raised and crushed so often. And then… when we lost our shot, when she changed her mind. I just. I know you’re not ready. I can’t say I am either.”
From the coffee table she watched Lena give the baby the bottle and smiled to herself. It was so natural and easy. Tiny hands held Lena’s fingers as she held the bottle. All Lena could do was smile to herself at the motion.
“I’m sorry,” Lena finally met her wife’s eyes.
“I know I’m the one that… Everyone thinks I just let things roll off of me, but that’s not true. It was hard. It’s been a hard few years in that department. But we try. We keep going. That’s what we do.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I saw a baby, and my first thought was what you probably looked like being picked up on the steps of a fire house. I couldn’t…” Kara shook her head and looked down at her knotted hands. “I couldn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe for the night. I was trying to pay back baby you, I think.”
“Kara, it’s fine,” Lena let out a long, deep breath.
“And maybe I did have a little hope. It was nice to believe in a miracle for a moment, that fate just finally gave us something good,” she proposed. “After all of it, how hard it’s been. Wouldn’t it be nice if it was just… easy.”
“One night,” her wife reminded her.
“What would you say, if this was an option?”
“Kara, please.”
“Hypothetically.”
“Honestly, honey, I’m too tired for even those tonight.”
With a sad smile that she tried to hide the sadness from, Kara nodded and rubbed her wife’s knee absently. Half asleep again and still eagerly drinking the bottle, the baby didn’t know what it needed more, just that it was ridiculously comfortable and happy in the set of arms it found.
“One night,” Kara chuckled softly.
“One night,” Lena repeated, a little more stern.
“That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“It’s just… that’s what you told me, the first night I stayed over,” the hero remembered, earning a slight frown from the woman who married her.
“That’s not true,” Lena whispered.
“We’d hooked up a few times, but never slept over. And one night, it was snowing, and cold, and I started to get dressed and you grumbled in that way you do when you’re super comfortable in bed and don’t want to get up in the morning,” she explained. Lena gave her an unamused look. “And you told me to stay. And I definitely agreed. I wasn’t going to pass that up. And I turned off the light, and you told me just one night. We weren’t going to do that thing, that dating thing. One night, snow storm special.”
“I was already in love with you, so that doesn’t count.”
“And you said the same thing when I brought a puppy home who was covered in dirt and was barely able to stand,” Kara reminded her. “You told me he got one night.”
“How am I supposed to say no when you’re begging and he was begging?” she accused, nudging her head at the slumbering beast on the couch. “I’m human.”
“I just think it’s funny that you try to keep out good things, but secretly want them to stay is all.”
“This isn’t like those.”
“I know,” Kara shrugged. “She’s cute, huh?”
“She is.”
“She likes you.”
“I don’t know about that. She probably likes eating.”
“You’re a natural.”
“You think?”
Lena’s face lightened slightly at the nice words. She softened as she looked at the nearly sleeping baby in her arms.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you this, yet.”
“I have you. We have a family. That’s already more than I ever thought to dream of,” Lena assured her, handing the bottle over as she brought the baby back to her chest and gently tapped her back, waiting for the burp.
Kara didn’t try to disagree, though she wanted to apologize for being busy, for not doing more, for not trying harder, for not reminding Lena that she could have the entire universe if she just asked. But Kara loved her because she would never ask for anything close to that. She would never ask for anything.
There was no use trying to get the baby back. Lena was on a roll and she was already nearly sleeping again. Kara pushed herself up from the coffee table to kiss her wife’s forehead before rinsing out the bottle.
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Nearly a week after her one night only, Lena woke to an empty bed. The overcast sky lingered through the curtains, casting the room in all manner of grey and disinterest in being anywhere other than under the covers. For a long second, Lena stretched, long as she could in the big, empty bed. It was early, she knew, but it was definitely too early for her wife to be awake willingly.
Only when she yawned and rolled over did she catch sight of something she wanted to keep forever. RIght there, gazing out of the window with a tiny, ball of a onesie and deep black hair, her wife held the baby tight, rested her chin on her head, and napped in the chair there. Both breathed softly together.
Lena didn’t move or get up or even lift her head. Instead, she just laid on her side and watched them together.
With a tiny yawn, the baby nuzzled deeper into Kara’s neck while a gentle hand rubbed her back. The onesie was one that had little lions on it. Lena picked it out, and Rosie looked adorable in it, though Lena refused to have those thoughts. She refused to think about how perfect Kara looked, long legs stretched, old, ratty shirt, arms wrapped around the baby, hair in a mess.
It was just one night, seven nights ago. Now it was becoming part of their life.
When the baby started to move, Lena finally pushed herself out of bed, her wife tired from staying up at all hours, probably just falling asleep recently.
“Come on, little lady,” she cooed, letting her wake slowly as they moved toward the living room. “Let’s let Supergirl sleep a little longer.”
Not entirely well versed with different types of Babies, Lena was under the impression that this little girl was perhaps the most perfect thing that had ever existed. She was always eager to giggle, always smiling, never one to yell or cry too often, she didn’t mind playing quietly, and more than that, she could be seen thinking, always thinking. As far as babies went, Lena was convinced she had to be smarter than most.
“I can’t believe someone just gave you up,” Lena shook her head and put her in the little high chair they borrowed from Alex.
Rosie didn’t say anything, just watched her move and twirled the pacifier in her mouth.
It was a serious conversation that absolutely hurt. Kara could see the pain in her wife’s eyes when she finally agreed. It was a long debate late into the night with the hero promising everything she could promise that this was it. This was their chance and they hadn’t missed it.
To her credit, she managed to stay good on her promises, that they wouldn’t take Rosie away, that they could get the paperwork done, that there was no way the social worker would think they weren’t a good family.
After a few months and the ongoing proceedings, Kara could see that Lena was starting to fall for the little girl. It was a beautiful thing to watch. Sometimes, when she wasn’t looking, Kara would watch Lena laugh and sneak kisses. She would catch her offering to take the baby with her to work, and she would put her to sleep, rocking her and whispering nerdy science things to her until she was out like a light.
Kara had been right all along, that Lena would be a natural. Even with the worry of possibly being hurt again, she stepped up and dove.
Her bag was the first thing she hung up, quickly followed by shoes being kicked off. Kara strained her ears and listened to the quiet of the house until paws clacked and greeted her. Coming home was a new experience, lately. Before, it was always kisses from Lena, and a big puppy crawling up onto her shoulders. Now, she was just always excited to see what her little family was doing and to interject herself into it.
“Where are they, buddy?” she asked, rubbing his sides and his back, earning not much in the form of an answer.
Kara smiled and looked through the kitchen, found nothing at all in the living room. There were toys and stuffed animals on the floor, a bouncer beside a stack of papers and Lena’s open laptop. Every day, there was something new added to the collection because Lena was addicted to baby things, always taking Kara’s knowing look with a shrug stating that where the baby went, she would need things. It was purely practical.
With her ear strained, she quickly followed the noises that told her where her wife had ventured.
The water wasn’t especially high, and the bubbles obscured much of it, but sitting in the bath, Lena chatted to the baby who giggled, balanced on her legs. A soft cloth ran along her chest while a little pile of bubbles slicked her hair. Big brown eyes were filled with this kind of happiness that seemed otherworldly. A naturally happy baby, Rosie enjoyed her time with them.
“The problem is that we just can’t find the proper spot to place the receptors so that there is universal and unrestricted access to the nerve endings. Our sensors are limited to the reactions they can create, but they can’t find any,” Lena explained. “The code is flawless, but as you’ll find out, what happens in a lab is so much different than what happens in real life.”
Hair up in a sloppy bun, Lena wore only the necklace Kara gave her on their first anniversary, something that was never taken off since. Kara fell in love with the pale of her shoulders, with the freckles that stayed there, living and slumbering contentedly. She was in love with the woman who didn’t know any bedtime stories or lullabies, but instead recited advanced theories of quantum mechanics when the baby couldn’t sleep.
“Did I stumble into the Research and Development meeting?” Kara finally chuckled.
“I’m thinking of conducting all important meetings in the bath now, actually,” Lena smiled. The baby spotted Kara and cooed, happily splashing. “We were going to be done and in our jammies by the time you got home, but it ran late.”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“What do you think, little wild girl?” she asked the baby who smiled. “I guess it’s unanimous.”
Even without superspeed, Kara was joining the pair in no time at all, much to the delight of her wife.
“Hi, munchkin,” she cooed, taking the baby as Lena passed her once she settled. “Any reason why bathtime is so early today?”
“Fred keeps taking it upon himself to make sure she’s clean.”
“Slobber bath,” Kara nodded, witnessing a few of those herself.
“And I might have spilled a lot of coffee on myself earlier.”
“Ah. There it is. Two sloppy girls lazing away in the bath.”
Lena smiled and settled back, watching Kara kiss the baby’s cheeks, carefully crafted her a soap beard, loved her so big and wide it was spectacular. She fought against every second until the water grew colder and they were forced to rinse and get out.
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“That one’s from us,” Maggie smiled as Lena carefully took the package and opened it.
Beside her, Kara held the pile of gifts their friends had already gotten them for the impromptu baby shower the day after the papers were signed. Their apartment was already overrun with toys and clothes and all manner of baby accessories, but it was the thought.
Somewhere in the circle, their daughter bonded with her new grandmother.
“My moms are super,” Lena read, stifling a laugh. The emblem of the hero was bold and bright on the blue onesie. “That’s cute.”
“It’d say something about LCorp, but Luthor doesn’t make a good pun.”
“I can’t wait for the day that you stop buying us Supergirl-themed gifts,” the CEO rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know,” Kara disagreed. “I like it.”
“You would.”
Kara shrugged and leaned over to kiss her wife.
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“Where’s Mommy?” Lena cooed as she wove through the offices of CatCo. The baby chattered and giggled, earning kisses on her cheek. “Uh oh! Look who we found. There she is!”
“Hi!” Kara smiled so big when she looked up from her desk, her wife was certain she broke her cheeks completely. “This is a nice surprise. My two favorite girls in the universe.”
“We thought a Danvers family lunch was much needed. And the weather is so nice,” Lena explained, earning a kiss before the baby was usurped from her arms.
“Hi pretty girl. Have you been good for Mommy?” Kara smiled and blew raspberries, earning giggles. “Of course you have because you’re perfect and I love you.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s about to talk. Any day now.”
“She’s six months old. Those are just sounds.”
“Nope, I’m telling you. She’s brilliant,” Lena disagreed, leaning her chin on Kara’s shoulder. “Today she most certainly said dog.”
“Are you sure she didn’t say Freddy, too?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re right. What was I thinking?”
Lena kissed Kara’s shoulder through her shirt and earned another on her temple. Sure enough, the baby drew a small crowd as people clamoured to see the newest Danvers, complimenting how big she’d gotten in the week since they’d last seen her. Big brown eyes stayed mostly tracked on the moms.
“What’s so funny?” the CEO asked, her arms wrapped around Kara’s chest as they finally escaped the building and found the beautiful spring day awaiting them.
“Just that your track record for that ‘one more night’ threat is still at zero percent effective.”
“Thank goodness,” Lena decided.