A/N: I got a few prompts for this pairing on tumblr so I decided to put them together in a fic. many thanks to Leanne for the beta!


Having a sister who is an alien is something Alex Danvers had long ago gotten used to. Having a sister who is Supergirl, however, is new. She knows it's almost hypocritical of her to worry for Kara's safety considering her line of work, but she can't help it. Worrying for Kara, putting her needs ahead of her own, is something that became natural as the years passed by, after she'd lost her father and his desire to have her protect Kara started being at the forefront of her life's purposes.

So yeah, Alex worries, and it doesn't help that Kara is not used to fully using her powers and therefore spends most of her time as Supergirl looking like an adorable heroic alien toddler trying to help. She mostly succeeds but Alex's heart takes a lot of blows while she's at it.

That's why Alex finds herself at a bar on a Thursday night, after Kara had awkwardly found her way into a victory against Reactron. She's alone, she's worked up from the stress of the day, she needs a drink…

… and she needs to get laid.

This isn't her kind of place, she thinks as she sets foot inside the door. A little fancy, a lot yuppie, but it's close enough to her apartment that she'll be able to wear the alcohol off by walking home in the fresh air of the evening. The patrons are mostly male, in their late twenties and thirties, a few over forty, wearing suits or button-up shirts with expensive-looking cufflinks. Some of them turn to appraise her, shamelessly giving her the once-over like they are a desirable piece of ass. They aren't. Alex makes a point of glaring at them as she passes through the swirl of warm bodies towards the counter.

She glances at the menu, rolling her eyes when she notes the thirty-dollar cocktails and eleven-dollar pints of beer. Overpriced, as everything aimed at entitled white men is, but Alex never spends any money and she can't be bothered to look up another bar.

"Two shots of whiskey," she asks the barmaid who nods her way. They're both gone in under twenty seconds and the barmaid lifts one perfectly sculpted eyebrow with a smirk, pouring two more. Alex laughs. "That's enough whiskey shots for the night, thanks."

"As you wish."

Alex grins, uncertain if she'd just been served with a The Princess Bride quote, and offers the fourth shot back to the barmaid, "Drink with me…?" She drawls the last word, trying to get a name.

"Sara," the barmaid concedes, eyes glinting, and they clink their shot glasses together before gulping them down. "How else may I be of help?"

Alex doesn't think "come to my house and let me fuck you" counts as appropriate help so she orders a rum and coke, their fingers brushing during the exchange, and observes Sara doing her job. She's competent. Fast and flirty, brushing off unwanted attention with diplomacy and a smile.

A man stands next to Alex and tries to make conversation. She indulges him until he makes a joke she couldn't pretend is funny in any known universe, shifting so her back is to him and she's facing the bar.

That's when she sees her.

There isn't anything men can do or say that makes Alex happier than when she spots a woman across the room – any room, any situation, – they lock eyes with each other, and the woman smiles. It's a small moment of appreciation and maybe it's the fact that they're two of the few women present, or it's the alcohol already talking, but Alex smiles back and does a waving motion that could be interpreted as an invitation to come over.

Vaguely. If one really squints.

The woman seems to get it though, if her approaching the counter and standing close to Alex is any indication. "Hi," she greets, extending her hand. "I'm Lucy."

One good thing about this place is that the music is loud enough to be immersive and low enough it's still possible to talk. Alex shakes her hand with a bashful smile she's not sure where it came from, "Alex. Nice to meet you." She signs for Sara and the barmaid comes, a knowing grin dancing on her lips. Alex has to swallow the urge to say shut up. "What are you having?"

"A tall glass of red wine, please," Lucy asks, sitting on the bar stool. Curiously, it's the only way she can be at eye-level with Alex, whose legs are starting to complain about the unnecessarily prolonged time standing still. "Do you have Merlot?"

"Of course," Sara replies, playful, and disappears for a minute, returning with an elegant long glass of wine. "Enjoy your drinks, ladies."

Alex feels a little under-dressed and somewhat out-classed by Lucy, whose make-up is both stunning and applied so masterfully Alex wonders if she's a make-up artist. Is she wearing foundation and blush? Or she just applied eyeliner and eyeshadow – which are making those gorgeous green eyes stand out? Red lipstick is also playing it a bit unfairly so Alex takes a swig of her drink to keep from staring and schools herself into acting like a normal human being who can establish communication with extremely attractive women.

"Thanks for inviting me over," Lucy starts, with a small smile. "I arrived to the city today and I didn't want to spend the entire evening alone at my Airbnb."

What goes unsaid is how she also didn't want to spend her time being approached by men trying to charm their way into her pants. Or skirt, rather. Alex can sympathize.

"Work?"

"Personal matters," Lucy corrects, taking a sip. "I'm not sure yet how long I'll stay."

Alex hums in response, searching for something to say. Lucy is distracting, with her curls barely kissing her shoulders and the necklace that ends right where her cleavage begins. She shakes her head, trying not to stare, and focuses on Lucy's eyes.

Which are also distracting as hell, damn it.

"Uh." Alex grabs her drink to occupy her hands and to have an excuse to look somewhere else. "So where are you from, exactly?"

"Metropolis."

"Superman's town," Alex jokes, facing Lucy again. She notices a flicker of hurt in her expression, which is surprising and is what compels her to add, "We have one of those now too."

Lucy chuckles, and just like that, the mood is set.

~~.~~

It starts like this:

Lucy rambles about her work, her hands moving about in a language of their own, her eyes sparkling with passion and excitement. Alex can see she's nervous and that's why she keeps talking, but she can't fathom why that is.

Of course the right thing to do in the face of a nervous woman is to listen like the rest of the world no longer matters, to lean forward with every new story and to smile as if nothing more fascinating has ever been said.

It helps that Lucy is gentle and thoughtful, and keeps giving Alex opportunities to share more about herself.

(Alex wishes she didn't have to lie.)

~~.~~

It goes like this:

Alex is relaxed and warm, nurturing her second rum and coke, and Lucy is now comfortable in their dynamic. Sometimes she touches Alex's forearm, other times she squeezes her shoulder, and when she gets to her third glass of wine, she allows her fingers to linger on Alex's wrist, her thumb tracing circles so light Alex wonders if the alcohol is making her feel things.

Alex takes a miniscule step to the side and they are now so close they could whisper to each other, share secrets for no one else to hear.

Lucy mentions an overly demanding father and a sister so accomplished she couldn't ever compare – Lucy, who is a lawyer, who is eloquent, witty, bright, and impossibly beautiful, – and something inside Alex softens, something inside her travels to her chest and wraps her heart around in tenderness.

She turns her hand upwards, her fingers hooking with Lucy's, and now her thumb is the one tracing a path on Lucy's knuckles.

Never feeling good enough – barely feeling enough – is something Alex understands.

~~.~~

It continues like this:

They're both on the tipsy side of drunk as they stumble out the bar, laughing and too absorbed in each other as they walk in the same direction, Lucy's arm tucked in Alex's.

Alex knows how she wants the night to end but she doesn't dare ask, she just stops when they reach the intersection, shoves her hands into her pockets and bites her bottom lip. She doesn't dare ask, but her eyes are filled with hope when she looks at Lucy, the corner of her mouth turning upward.

Lucy stares for a moment too long, running her pink tongue over her lips, and hooks a finger inside the waistband of Alex's jeans, "Let's go to my place."

Alex doesn't need to be told twice.

~~.~~

It goes like this:

They don't even make it to the bedroom. They're kissing and opening shirts as soon as they get into the elevator and once they're inside the apartment, there's a table right there and Alex pulls Lucy's skirt up to her hips, picks her up and sits her on the table, settling herself between Lucy's legs as she takes off her own jeans.

Lucy gets rid of Alex's shirt and nips at her collarbones, hands sliding down her back to rest on her ass. Alex gets the hint and Lucy's panties are gone in under a minute, thrown haphazardly to the floor.

Alex rests her forehead against Lucy's, and in the moment their eyes meet, Alex touches Lucy's center, one finger skimming through her folds. Lucy gasps and Alex slips two fingers inside.

There's something about touching a woman's core, feeling the wet heat around her fingers, that makes Alex feel like she's coming home.

Lucy arches her back and rolls her hips and yeah, okay, if that's how she's playing it, Alex can go deeper and faster.

So she does and Lucy, well, Lucy talks.

Lucy tells her she's fucking her real good and tells her she's so hot and whispers dirty nothings in her ear, full of reverence and praise, and Alex will be damned if she's pushed over the edge before she gets Lucy there.

She kneels on the floor and brings her mouth to Lucy's clit, sucking as she keeps pushing her fingers inside, curling them to reach the G spot, and she doesn't stop until Lucy comes, silent at last, one hand grabbing Alex's hair, the other gripping the table.

Alex kisses the inside of her thighs and slowly stands up, peppering Lucy's stomach with feather light kisses before holding her wrist, "Bedroom?"

Lucy smirks, discards her skirt as she moves down from the table, and leads the way.

~~.~~

It ends like this:

When Alex wakes up the next morning, sunlight hitting her face, it's 6:14 and she isn't nursing a hangover. Lucy is next to her, naked body half-exposed from Alex's habit of hogging the blankets. She looks peaceful and Alex smiles, covering her before getting up.

She can't believe she'd pretty much passed out after sex, no concern for personal boundaries and alarm clocks. She can't believe Lucy had just fallen asleep either. Guess alcohol and drunken-yet-good sex will do that to people.

Alex puts her underwear on, grabs her shirt from the floor by the dining table, and heads for the kitchen. There has to be coffee in this place.

There is, and Lucy seems to have bought groceries for at least a week because the cupboards are packed, so Alex decides she might as well have breakfast. Too bad she makes a loud mess while preparing it and she's cursing under her breath when she hears a soft, "Hi."

Alex turns to find Lucy leaning against the door frame, rubbing sleep from her eyes with the heel of her hand. She's wearing an over-sized white shirt that reads "nobody's perfect" and Alex grins, amused that Lucy had picked that as her travelling sleepwear.

"Good morning," Alex says, grabbing a mug. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Two brown sugars, please," Lucy replies, sitting at the kitchen table. "I see you've made breakfast."

"Technically, I just grabbed all the breakfast food I could find and set it on the table," she amends, blushing despite herself. "I figured you deserved a treat for letting me stay over even though I live like, literally two blocks away from here." It's Lucy's turn to blush but she takes the mug Alex is handing her without breaking eye contact. "Don't worry, I'll be on my way soon. I want to shower before work."

Lucy blushes again, a furious red tinting her cheeks, and Alex doesn't understand what's getting her so flustered until Lucy bites her lip and looks up at her from under lashes so thick and long they should be a sin, "I might have better plans for that shower."

~~.~~

They never finish the coffee.

~~.~~

(and, as it turns out, it isn't the end after all.)