Inspired by a post on Tumblr that I am currently unable to locate.

Lena Luthor is not, however much her family might wish it, anti-alien. In her efforts to prove the fact, she has taken over her brother's company, relocated to National City, survived numerous attempts on her life – none of which were by kale, despite what Kara might attest – and had her mother arrested.

All other physical, mental and moral quarrels being equal, however, she does have a problem Cadmus is ... uniquely positioned to take care of. Despite her mother being in jail. Lena's not anywhere near naive enough to think that will stop her for long, even if she does somehow end up in Cell Block X with Lex and not disappear into thin air.

The bane of her existence is, for once in her life, not family.

Mike of the interns is the worst sort of frat boy. Not to be trusted around anyone, much less the sort of genuine goodness as Kara.

If he were human, Lena would have ways and means. It would be easy, if he were human. If he were human, she could arrange an out of state promotion, provided he got a job. If he were human, she could tip off the IRS, the FBI, arrange an accident on a bad day, and be able to weather the repercussions in the unlikely scenario that it be traced back to her.

But he isn't.

And she's dragging L-Corp away from her brother's legacy even if it kills her, even if it feels like unicycling an elephant across a tightrope made of string cheese. She can't touch him.

It's a good thing she knows where her mother is going to be for the foreseeable future. Besides, Lillian wants to talk. Her lawyer has been in contact so often she's halfway convinced chatting Jess up is the main objective.

Normally, the ability to run a terrorist organization from prison is something she'd deplore and do her best to counteract – it would save so many attempts on her life, if the good folks of block X would just let her help – but works for her. She can always cut her off later, even if it takes designing and building a prison from scrap.

She pre-empts whatever Lillian's about to say as she sits down. Needs to have the upper hand, or they'll never get the conversation to the topics she wants covered.

There are armed guards at both entrances, and no doubt cameras pointed at the two of them, but custom-made scrambler is more than enough to deal with that hurdle.

"I have a problem."

Lillian spreads her hands as far as she can with handcuffs restricting her mobility, in a classic who me? gesture. She's as genuine as a snake on a hot rock.

"And what do you expect me to do about it, Lena? In case you haven't noticed, I'm in jail."

The look Lena gives her speaks volumes. It's a Luthor look, I know you're better than that, bestowed to her and Lex both, if not equally.

"We both know it'd take a lot more than a few bars and some substandard meals to stop you from achieving your ends."

Lillian smirks like she's about to upset balance of power in a democracy somewhere.

"Do you recall the reporter that was with me?"

Kara and her mother have never exchanged words, as far is she is aware, and Lena intends to keep it that way. There's also no way her mother isn't keeping tabs on everyone on in her life.

Lillian leans forward eagerly. Prison, for all its added challenges, can prove tedious.

"Does she need to be taken care of?"

"No!"

It's one of those, then. Honestly, she'd thought as much when she had been extracting the girl's blood. Friends her overpriced olive martini.

"No, quite the opposite. See, there's this alien, a frat boy if I've ever laid eyes on one ..."

Lillian sits back and allows herself to bask in her daughter's newly revealed ruthlessness. First the police, and now this ... she'll tell her about the affair another time, should she ever need leverage. The Alien Registration Act is useful enough to allow it to continue without intervention for the time being. For now, Lena's proving herself a Luthor.

"I'll see what I can do." Leans forward, allows their hands to touch.

"In the interests of deniability..."

Lena smirks. It's astounding to realise where she got that. It's certainly not Lionel.

"Oh, I know how to put on a show."

Lena depresses the button hidden up her sleeve, pushes her chair back with a screech. Comes to rest with both hands on table, looks down at her like she shot a puppy.

"I'll see you in court."

She's taught her well.