Song-Spired Trilogy

by Celtic Luthor

A little Supercorp one shot and my first Supergirl fanfic that has now turned into a three part series. All three come from songs that have been way over played lately on the radio and come to be very annoying to me personally, I used them as inspiration for this so that perhaps i will find them less frustrating to hear in the future.

1. Slow Hands

Slow Hands

It is the usual soiree of guests, political high fliers, business tycoons and the plain rich with no particular skills.

Lena sits back, feeling the cool leather of the sofa against the bare skin of her back and is thankful for it. The air is muggy and heavy tonight, the amount of ice she had ordered had been doubled less than an hour before the party when it was clear the weather was not going to break.

The bow tied lawyer sitting across from her leans forward enthusiastically, evidently very excited about whatever it is he is talking about, not that Lena has been paying attention for the last five minutes. Nodding she smiles and takes a sip of wine. These gatherings could get so tedious, depending on which side of high society you invited and sometimes it was necessary to invite the straight laced white collars, simply to keep up appearances. She breathes a sigh of relief when the music starts up, a band, booked at the last minute by Jess, who'd wisely noted that hours of over- polite socializing in this heat would have everyone leaving early or at least a few falling outs, a band would give people something to watch and allow them to relax and take the attention away from the most lightly boring conversations they were involved in.

Jazz music drifts across the open roof, the sound of conversation dies down, Bow-Tie sits back and turns his attention to the band much to Lena's relief. Waving to the waiter for a refill she shifts, tugging the professional length hem of her dress a little higher to rest a few inches above her knees, the rich red fabric thankfully dark enough not to show sweat.

There is a sudden clatter of glass breaking harshly across the music. Lena twists in her seat assuming a waiter has simply up ended a tray. At the far end of the roof, just outside the glass double doors, a waiter is indeed looking flustered with an empty tray in hand. Leaning a little father forwards Lena catches a glimpse of someone fair haired, crouched, evidently trying to clean up, between the crowds of people. The music continues, not even stuttering at the interruption, very professional, Lena would have to remember to give Jess a bonus. Some continue to watch the scene by the door but most turn back to the band. Standing she nods to Bow-Tie who looks somewhat miffed she would leave his company, she ignores his expression and weaves through the crowd towards the doors. "I'm so sorry, again!"

"Don't do that, you'll cut yourself!" Rounding a cluster of people who'd taken up place just a few feet from the doors Lena sees Kara, glasses sliding down her nose, purse held under one arm trying to scoop broken glass hurriedly into some kind of tidy pile while the waiter looks on in horror. "Be careful!" The waiter squeaks, eyes wide. "Go get a brush!" Lena snaps, annoyed at whoever hired the inept waiter. "Yes, of course." He squeaks again and vanishes inside. Lena shakes her head watching him go. "Oh, Lena! Hi!" Kara looks up, pushing her glasses up her nose as she straightens, brushing down her dress, a tasteful shade of lilac but sadly not able to hide the water spatters covering the skirt of it. "Kara." The business woman gives her a warm hug, delighted the reporter had received her invitation. Seeming to read her mind Kara holds up a hand. "Yes, I did get your note, eventually, only today actually, Alex had put it aside and it got buried under stuff. As, you know, happens often enough, in modern society." Kara smiles awkwardly. "No need to apologize, at least you made it." Lena turns, speaking over her shoulder as they squeeze through the crowd, sincerely hoping that Bow-Tie has left the table they'd been sharing. The two couches are vacant, Lena nods to herself, satisfied. "What would you like to drink?" She asks Kara as they seat themselves. "Oh, anything really is fine." The reporter waves a hand absently towards the nearest waiter. "It is really good to see you, sorry I couldn't make last weeks lunch or the one before that even." Kara says, shifting her purse awkwardly between her hands before placing it on the table and accepting the glass the waiter offers her. "No problem at all, you're here now." Lena smiles gently, noticing the heat beginning to steam up Kara's glasses. "Well, I'm sorry anyway." Kara takes a small sip of the wine, eyes widening at the taste. "This is..nice?" Lena chuckles. "It's the finest red we have." Putting the glass gingerly on the table Kara licks her lips. "A little too fine for my taste." The blonde woman blinks and pulls her glasses off abruptly, appearing to have just noticed she can no longer see through them. "I mean, I could get used to it with time." "It is an acquired taste I'll admit, my favorite since my I found out my mother hated it." Kara slides newly cleaned glasses back up her nose, tilting her head to the side, considering, a waterfall of curling blonde hair sliding over her shoulders. "I guess that is good enough a reason." She retrieves the glass and takes a long swig, spluttering slightly at the after taste. She squints at Lena through watering eyes, making the brunette laugh outright. "Kara, you are indeed my hero now." Kara chokes out a giggle. Lena shifts to sit sideways, one arm draped over the back of the couch, turned so she can look directly at her friend. "So how has work been? Busy I'll take it?" "Oh, like you wouldn't believe, Snapper has started demanding I bring pastries every week now, since you showed me that recipe." "Has the sugar made him any sweeter though?" Lena raises an eyebrow. "No, same old sour mean I'm-so-good-at-my-job-look-at-me-guy." Kara sighs, her lips quirking a wry smile. "But you love it anyway?" Lena guesses. "Yeah, I do. And he's right to think he's good at his job because he is and makes me better at mine." She pauses. "To a point only."

Grinning she glances around. "Nice party." Lena smirks. "Nice would be the word, fun? Entertaining? Definitely not." "You've got a band!" Kara waves towards the now sweating singer and musicians. "Yes, we have." Lena takes a drink from her glass. "But I do believe I would have fallen asleep by now if you hadn't come." Kara wrinkles her nose, grinning. " Aww, well you might still yet, this heat is enough to knock supergirl out." The brunette laughs, "I find it hard to believe anything could knock out the girl of steel." She realizes at the same time she's drained her glass and is slowly feeling the effects of the wine. Quickly she puts the glass down, the last thing she needs is to be tipsy when some business dealer or another shows up. "So how was your day?" She asks, resting her cheek against her finger tips, elbow nestled comfortably against the back of the sofa. "Oh you know, hectic, yelling, lots of clicking high heels, especially now Cat is around again. I got a good report on that marathon, had to run beside the winner most of the way, you know they're thinking of starting an aliens only marathon organization, since you know, they can often run faster than humans." Kara takes a long gulp of the dark red liquid, pushing her hair back from her face with her other hand. Lena nods. "That's actually a smart thing to do, keeps both sides happy and smiles at equality." "Exactly, of course that wasn't the winners' opinion, some son of a rich guy, saying marathons are a human idea, which they aren't actually and apparently should stay that way. " She pushes her glasses up her nose again, leaning forwards slightly to emphasize her next words. "But I was next to this guy most of the way, he's definitely not human." Lena frowned.

"Then why? That makes no sense." She glances up and waves a waiter over. "Water please."He nods and hurries off. Kara has her glasses in her hands again, cleaning the steaming surfaces. She looks up as Lena turns back to her, her eyes surprisingly appearing more blue than they looked behind the frames, which is usually quite blue indeed. The business woman shifts, tugging as subtly as she can at the low back of her dress, trying to relive some of the heat gathering under the hemline. Kara shoves her glasses back up her nose. "Exactly what I was thinking, it makes absolutely no sense. But I know what I saw, scales just under the edge of his t-shirt and he wasn't even out of breath after winning it, never varied pace or even sweated." The possible reasons why an alien wouldn't want to have his kind recognized in sports and given their own divisions runs through Lena's mind. "Perhaps the guy, I mean, alien, is actually slow, like compared to other aliens and wouldn't be winning anything in an all alien race." Kara's eyes widen and she grabs Lena's wrist, her skin a surprisingly comfortable temperature against the brunette's, despite the heat. "You know, you're probably right, why didn't I think of that?" She lets go, leaving an imprint of finger marks on pale skin. Slapping her palm to her forehead she laughs. "I think I used all my brain power just making those pastries this morning is what." Lena laughs again, thoroughly amused by the blonde's reaction. "Why don't you drop by tomorrow before work and I'll have some ready for you, save you having to make them for once." Kara holds her glass up in toast. "Now who's the hero." Lena glances down flushing slightly but with a pleased smile on her lips.

"Oh, I think I recognise this one." The blonde looks eagerly towards the band as they starts up a slow jazz number. The deep sultry tones matching the heat of the night and relaxing some part of Lena's mind that had still been tense and alert for any political tensions among the guests. Scanning the crowd she sees most if not all are feeling the music's effects, there is more smiling and less smirking, people seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves rather than enjoying the discomfort of their rivals.

"I needed this so much." Kara tilts her head to one side, resting it on her shoulder. Her blue eyes behind the lenses appear very much more blue as if they've brightened, somehow, enough to not be dimmed by the small glass panes.

"It makes me happy to see you happy." Lena smiles, enjoying the genuine eye crinkling, nose wrinkling smile she gets in return. "So, Lena, tell me, do you dance?" The business woman raises a skeptical eyebrow in question. Kara nods towards the previously empty dance floor, now occupied by a handful of couples participating with various takes on 60s style dancing to the now upbeat music. Sensing she's not going to get a reason for the question till she answers Lena raises both eyebrows in a parody warning. "I have been known too dance, yes, but…" She's cut short as the blonde reporter gulps the last of her wine and placing the glass firmly down, grabs Lena's hand just as firmly and pulls her to her feet. "Oh no, this isn't s good idea, especially after those glasses of wine." Lena says under her breath, only half resisting as Kara tugs her towards the dance floor. She can't help but smile at the other woman's enthusiasm as they wend between the other couples, dodging arms being swung and legs swinging to the unmistakable 60's beat. "I took classes when I was a teenager." Kara says as they find a space at the far side of the dance floor. The towering buildings of National City gleaming in the moonlight to their left and the now crowded floor to their right as the reporter swings around to face Lena, a wide grin lighting her face. "So at least one of us knows what we're doing then?" The dark haired woman smiles wryly, Kara's enthusiasm is infectious. "Oh, I only took a few of them." Lena's face drops in mock horror. "Well this is not going to end well then…" "C'mon, no one else cares how good or bad they are." Kara shifts her grip on Lena's hand, again the brunette notices the comfortable warmth of the blonde's skin, unlike her own which she's sure much feel like a warmed up fish. "You have a point." Lena says, letting Kara turn her, a hand on her shoulder, guiding, so they're standing side on to each other. "Now, it's all in the feet if I'm right, you'll be the lady, so you're stepping like this." Kara demonstrates a series of small quick steps and Lena attempts to copy, only half failing her attempt. "There, you see, not so bad. So keep that up and just follow my lead." The music thrums out it's high paced beat and focusing on that beat the business woman finds that perhaps she can dance in less than an embarrassing fashion after all, in-spite of the wine. Kara tugs lightly, offering her other hand, her glasses are steaming up again but it doesn't seem to hinder her. Swing, swing, step step, in and out, forward and back. And Lena finds she's enjoying herself, grinning in return to the blonde's smile when they swing inwards to face each other. Kara is strong, one hand pressed firmly into the small of Lena's back, while the brunette finds herself having to hold tightly as the other woman spins them in a tight circle, Lena finds herself letting out a small laugh of pure delight. Kara raises her eyebrows. "Enjoying yourself?" "You could say that. " Lena chuckles. Then they part again, the blonde woman guiding and turning the smaller into position, so Kara's arm rests across Lena's shoulders, their hands still holding as they follow the beat of the music, step forwards and back and repeat. Lena finds herself becoming acutely aware of the warm press of Kara's wrist resting against her collar bone, her lower arm and the tense muscles of her bicep as they press against the skin of Lena's bare shoulders. She frowns to herself, her feet moving almost automatically now. This…feeling, or is it simply an awareness, she is sure she has felt it before but not to this strength, perhaps it's only the effects of the of the wine, but no. When Kara placed an arm around her shoulders to comfort her sadness, it seems so long ago now, she had not been drinking but that time grief had pushed away any other feelings.

She waits, thinking it may fade once they part, but no. As they move and turn to face each other again, it's as if her skin has heightened in sensitivity and she is acutely aware of Kara's fingers, wrapped tightly around her own. The blonde looks at her quizzically, evidently noticing Lena's frown. "What's up?"

She asks, appearing oblivious to what the brunette is feeling. "Uh, nothing, just concentrating on not tripping over my feet." Lena laughs, trying to distract herself from the fact she finds herself hoping Kara feels the same new awareness and simply to distract the reporter from asking any other questions. The floor lights flash past as they twirl a small circle, Lena lets herself slide her hand a little further around Kara's shoulder, in a show of simply trying to keep herself from falling over. In truth, she Is desperately curious to see if the other woman will have any reaction to this, her hand comes to rest just below the nape of her neck. Kara's face appears to remain calm and open, a slight smile constantly on her lips showing she was thoroughly enjoying herself but nothing else as far as the business woman can tell. So she pushes the feeling down, locks it away, throws the key far away and makes e herself focus on the music and the simple joy of movement, that is coming surprisingly easily now.

The party has dissolved from double edged conversations and political maneuvering to having one too many glasses of wine and dancing a little too confidently to jazz music. Kara accepts another glass from the sever as they pass but Lena shakes her head, the world is already spinning enough from all the twirling on the dance floor. They lean on the wall surrounding the roofs edge at one side of the dance floor. Lena with her back against the wall, enjoying the slightly cooler air from the open night sky compared to the sweat and heaviness of the rooftop, sipping water and lime, a feeling of contentment tinged with underlying need, need of what she can't quite figure out or rather forbids herself from figuring out. The reporter rests her elbows on the wall, having placed her glass on the narrow ledge, she takes off her glasses to dry them yet again. Theirs is a comfortable quiet, companionable. Lena glances at her, about ask a question, away from her calculations of who will be asking for drivers home and who will not. Her heart stutters a beat and the words that were on her lips vanish into the air, unsaid. Eyes of blue, the blue of summer skies, of deep seas and a thousand forget-me-nots, the blue of white hot fire, look back at her, No glasses to dim that vibrant color, the brunette realizes she's staring but before she can feel embarrassed she realizes Kara is staring too, or gazing would be the right word, staring is too harsh and hard edged for the look in the blonde's eyes. It's as if someone has stoked the blue fire and it blazes now, warm and inviting, in a way you wouldn't expect blue flames to be but it is so nonetheless. Lena feels that stutter in her chest again and notices she's holding her breath. Quickly she looks away, swallowing hard and wondering what on earth this could lead too and why she hopes it will lead to anything. Shaking her head slightly to herself she sips her water, hoping it will cool the heat of her skin which seems to have trebled in the last minute. It is too easy to mis-read eyes, no matter how you wanted them too look at you. "Lena?" There's a touch on her arm, slow and tentative, yet it feels like an electric charge. Lena clears her throat which seems to have gotten all caught up and croaky. "Yes, Kara, sorry?" She absently wipes the sweat she can feel trickling down the back of her neck, a nervous movement. Afraid to look at Kara for fear those fires will cause her to do something she really, probably should not, she keeps her eyes on the floor. "Lena, do you want to dance again?" The hand is still there, just the barest pressure on her forearm. The business woman blinks, she's forgotten all about dancing and the music and failed to notice the band has struck up a new tune. Looking around she sees couples, swaying slowly, sensually but not too sensually, as this is still a business gathering after all. Her heart leaps and she desperately tries to keep it down and calm and banish that hope, making sure those gates stay firmly locked. "Sure, why not, can't be harder than those steps earlier." She laughs lightly, placing her drink on a nearby table, carefully avoiding those eyes. Kara moves her hand to Lena's and leads her forwards and the brunette is grateful that she can avoid the pull of those twin blue fires another few moments longer. The reporter's steps are light, the skirt of her dress swishing against the back of her knees, the lilac fabric slightly patterned and cut to slope down at the back, this Lena concentrates on trying to get her mind and feelings under control before having to face her. Oh but what if she didn't have to hold them down, inviting her to dance, to dance to music like this, to dance slowly and closely like this, could she maybe..? All this rushes through Lena's mind in the few seconds it takes to cross the floor to an empty space.

She sets her jaw, no, gates closed, key thrown far away.

"So, are there specific steps to this that you can teach me?"

She asks as Kara turns to face her. "Not that I know." Kara's voice is quiet, almost soft. Lena looks down, as if concentrating on where to place herself and her hands, her hands which Kara takes, placing Lena's gently on her own shoulder and grasping the other in the classic clasped style. The business woman tenses slightly as the blonde woman steps in close, closer than a friend would, at least closer than friends she's known before would and that wasn't many, so her judgment could be way off. She keeps her touch light, her gaze politely over the shoulder, glancing only briefly at her friend with a slight smile and away again in case those blue fires decide to consume her. And it's not like she isn't hot enough already, the sweat trickles down her spine and she is glad she pulled her hair back from her face tonight, leaving what air there is to attempt to cool the back of her neck. The towering buildings of glass wink around them in the odd flash of car lights or streetlights, Lena tries to take deep breaths as subtly as possible, unsure if the heat is pulling the oxygen from her lungs or if there is another reason she's finding it hard to catch her breath.

So subtle is the movement, the brunette barely notices it, a hand, that had been resting on her hip, polite and proper, is now against the small of her back, a gentle insistent pressure inviting her closer, closer to Kara. She risks a glance, behind the small panes of glass the twin fires burn as brightly as they did before, they meet her eyes calmly, almost curiously, as if Lena is a question and the the reporter is searching for the answer. The music is deep, but soft, swaying them to its rhythm as gently as a leaf on an almost still pond. She lets that pressure move her, less than a hand-span now, such a small space could be closed so easily, simply, but she hesitates, searching those blue eyes for an answer in return. Slowly, she slides her hand to cup the back of Kara's neck, fingers tangling slightly in blonde hair. She can't look away now even if she wanted, the same way a fire will mesmerize you, hypnotize even, those blue flames have a hold of her, and she finds herself hoping they never let go. The heat of the night is nothing compared to the fire on her the bare skin of her back where Kara's hand moves just that bit further, almost completely encircling her waist now, she can sense the strength holding her and doubts she could get away if she wanted to, not that she did, not in a million years. It seems those tightly closed gates are threatening to open on their own and Lena is loathe to stop them.

And then the music fades out, the end of the melody, the end of the moment, Lena's heart drops and she steps back politely as the dance floor empties slowly. Lena finds her gaze being firmly held as Kara lets go of her waist but keeps a hold of her hand, not tightly, not forcing her but gently so Lena could pull away at any moment.

This she can surely not be misinterpreting, the dancing could simply have been dancing, the way friends sometimes did, but this, the dance was over. And Kara holding onto her hand, not saying a word, not moving, not smiling nor frowning, just looking at her, those blue flames all but ablaze.

The gate within Lena opens, one she's been keeping tightly locked with the keys thrown far away. Now they're thrown wide and someone else has the key, a blonde reporter she's called friend until now. Until now when something more may be just beyond those gates. Lena turns, not wanting to to look away from the eyes but she does and moves off the dance floor, her hand keeping hold of Kara's. Few guests take any notice of them, most caught up in deep alcohol or business induced conversations as the night advances.

She feels Kara's grip tighten as they pass through the doors. Inside is nearly empty, one or two guests sit on couches chatting and drinking, the white walls and ceilings making it nearly as bright as day indoors. The business woman moves with purpose, away from the gathering, turning down a hall and then down another, passing closed doors. It's darker here, wall lights glowing off rich wood, until before them, the end of the hall, are glass double doors, open wide onto a balcony. Lena steps through without hesitation, her heels clacking gently on the wooden floor.

The balcony is large, holding a low couch at one end and a small dining table at the other, a place for private meetings, be they professional or otherwise. Now it's the otherwise or so she hopes.

The air seems to rest against her skin like a blanket, the bare skin of her back glistens but she no longer notices the humidity. Lena reaches the enclosing wall, staring for a moment over the glittering night bound city, taking a deep breath, trying to gather her emotions and control them. She's still holding Kara's hand and the blonde has come to stand next to her, Lena wishes she could read minds right now but she can't so she uses words instead. Turning to the taller woman she goes to speak, to ask, "Is this what you want?" but words fail her, again, when a finger comes to rest on her lips, keeping her silent. Every inch of skin under that finger, that is joined tentatively by the other four, tingles in the most pleasant way. Kara's expression is open and wide eyed, as if she's seeing something wondrous for the first time. Lena finds herself wondering how she, herself could be anything close to wondrous. But the expression is there and Lena lets herself reach up and place her hand over Kara's, applying the slightest pressure in a feather light kiss. The blonde's eyes close briefly and her lips part, when she opens them again her gaze is intent, purposeful and she steps forwards, leaving only a breath of air between their bodies, air that feels alive with heat. The brunette holds her gaze as she moves Kara's hand slowly over her lips, down over her chin to her throat, letting it rest there, letting the other woman feel the frantic flutter of her pulse. The reporter smiles then, a wide beaming smile that would make the sun seem dim. The smile turns to a giggle and Lena, unsure but smiling back because, as usual she can't help herself, wonders what could be so amusing. "Oh Lena, you and your slow hands." The brunette feels her smile widen, if that's all that was funny, at least she wasn't embarrassing herself in some way. She raises an eyebrow at Kara as she continues giggling.

"Slow?" She slides the blonde's hand from her throat to the nape of her neck and lets go, reaching forward to place the now free hand on the other woman's waist and tugging slightly, so they're abruptly pressed flush against each other. Kara stops giggling abruptly with an intake of breath, the lighting from the wall lights catches her hair, sunlight in solid form and illuminates her skin, the gentle peach flush of her cheeks, she's all sun and brightness and that brightness is like a heady tonic to Lena, it always has been. But now is more, much more intoxicating.

"Would you rather something else?" Lena breathes, letting the hand slide from waist to back. "Mmmhmm." Kara bites her lip, her eyes leaving Lena's and focusing slightly lower, Lena feels her heart threatening to stop again, watching teeth press into that full lower lip. Lena can feel her breath against her skin, they're faces are inches apart. The blonde's hand moves from the nape of her neck to her hair, fingers tucking under the tie holding the pony tail in place and pulling it slowly free. Dark silken strands tumble over her shoulders and Kara lets go of the hand she had still been holding to reach up, burying her fingers in those dark locks. Every place they touch feels like fire or electric or both. Lena's free hand moves slowly to down the blonde's side, gliding over the soft lilac material, feeling Kara's ribs moving as the blonde inhales deeply. Their foreheads are touching now, her lips parted she can taste Kara's breath, tantalizingly close. Her hand comes to rest on the other woman's waist, the other at the small of her back and she presses closer, relishing every place their bodies touch, thighs, hips, stomach, breasts, thousands of tiny wildfires blooming across her skin. The air is hot tonight but those fires are a thousandfold hotter.

Slowly, oh so slowly they close those last few inches but not quite, Lena pauses at the last possible moment, she can feel the moist warmth of Kara's lips, hear her every breath, the moment is soft and bright with tenderness and desperate and glitteringly dark with want.

But not wanting, too, as if this moment is too precious, a moment, a breath that will never be again once it has been broken.

Kara's hands are winding themselves into dark hair, her lips curve into the smallest smile, her eyes fluttering closed as Lena feels the brush of her eyelashes against her own eyelids.

Then as if on a subconscious signal or maybe a physical one, one of primal need and want, they both move, and close that tiniest of spaces.

Their lips meet.

And it's as if all those slow hands with their slow touches have been saving themselves up, waiting for this moment.

Kara's fingers are everywhere, in her hair, cupping her face, trailing over the bare skin of her back, gripping her waist tightly as if she can somehow pull them closer than they already are, which is the closest they can humanly be. Those lips are pure heat and softness, and then parting, inviting.

It feels like flying, or falling, or both at once as their tongues meet, wet and twining and sun hot. Bright light floods through those gates now, bathing her in its warmth. Her hands explore the shapes of the body pressed to hers, every curve and incline, the ridges of shoulder-blades, the line of her jaw, the dips of collar bones, skimming the neckline, fingers teasing just under the edge of lilac fabric.

Lena feels Kara's hands still momentarily, then come to settle on her thighs, strong fingers gripping and then lifting in one smooth motion. She shifts her hands to the blonde's shoulders, holding tightly as Kara lifts her with ease to sit on the balcony's surrounding wall, her dress rides up, leaving her legs bare to the thigh as she wraps her legs around the blonde's waist, not for balance or security but to simply keep her close, to not loose those tiny wildfires that aren't so tiny any more.

Some part of her mind wonders why she isn't worried, to be sitting on such a narrow space with a twenty story drop behind her but she simply isn't and doesn't bother to question why, too distracted by the hands once again roaming her body, setting her skin alight and the sweet, sweet taste of Kara in her mouth.