Lena doesn't think she's ever felt as happy as right now, slow dancing in Kara's arms. To be honest, she isn't sure the music currently softly playing in the background matches their rhythm at all ; she's stopped paying attention a while ago, precisely when Kara stopped goofing around, breakdancing with Alex, wildly waltzing with Kelly, and improvising some kind of Kryptonian dance with Sam, to instead dedicate all of her attention to her. They've built their own little world in a corner of the room, and it's just them now, and Lena is so in love it doesn't feel fully real.
Kara holds her impossibly close as they sway, with little concern for what they must look like to others, madly in love and completely lost to the universe. She's removed her heavy robe and the sight of her in her light grey suit, sleeves rolled up and vest and shirt stretched on her shoulders, is otherworldly. Also out of this world, is the colour of her eyes, bluer than they've been for a while now that the hazy film of pain and fear has been scrapped from them. Lena likes to think she's played a part in that, no matter how small ; that with her family, she helped build back Kara again with as much care as skilled restorers with a masterpiece. Because this is what Kara is to her, a masterpiece, crafted by a god ; and much like an antic statue, seemingly unbreakable yet endlessly fragile.
Kara smiles distractingly and tightens her hold on her. A soft breeze blows through the open tent, and though the sun has not yet started to set, hundreds of fairy lights are slowly lighting up, turning the wedding in a galaxy of its own. Lena looks up, taking in every single inconsequential detail to remember and cherish, the golden light on Kara's chiseled face, the weight of her hands on her waist, the warmth of her skin under her shirt. She looks up at her, takes note of the contentment in her eyes, the quiet happiness in the pull of her lips, and suddenly, she knows.
The music stops, and though they'd become largely unaware of its existence, Kara still takes the opportunity to stop swaying. She takes a step back, kisses the corner of Lena's mouth softly and says, mouth close to her ear, "do you wanna go for a walk ? Before it's too dark out ?"
Heart beating loudly in her chest, Lena nods. "Yeah," she whispers, "yeah, I'd like that."
Kara grabs her hand, gently, her metallic limb warm from having been pressed to her all this time, and starts leading her out of the tent, walking past Ruby who's engaged in a lively discussion with a school friend Lena has seen around a lot lately.
"You know," Kara says as they get further away from the tent, "I often forgot Ruby isn't actually Alex's kid. Biologically I mean."
Lena hums quietly. "They do look an awful lot like each other."
"It's funny, isn't it," Kara chuckles softly, "that Sam's last ditch attempt at heterosexuality ended up looking so much like her wife ?"
"I do see the irony in that," Lena muses. She wonders who her own kids will end up looking like, who they'll take after more. If they'll get her nose, or Kara's, if they'll inherit her heterochromia, or be gifted with flawless blue eyes. She knows, as Kara squeezes her hand gently, that she's thinking about this too.
They make their way down the uneven path bordering the flower field until they come upon a bench, old and weathered, its wooden planks bleached by the briny ocean air, and sit on it. It's warm, having been under the sun the whole day, and the sensation is grounding, the heated wood a tether to Earth when Lena feels so ready to float away.
"I had a plan," Kara says, "or the beginning of one at least." She speaks slowly, and Lena lets her voice wash over her the way the sun washes over her hair, melting the strands into gold. "Would you like to hear it ?"
"Sure."
"I was going to take you to Ireland," Kara continues, a smile clearly audible in her voice. "Andrea gave me coordinates for a place you like but haven't visited in a while and we were going to go on a trip there."
"Ashford," Lena guesses.
"Ashford," Kara confirms. "I went back and forth on it for a while, I know there's a reason you haven't been back there, but I decided, eventually, that it would be nice. We would have stayed in a guest house and one day, just before sunset, when Sol looks just enough like Rao, I would have driven you to the seaside and in the place where your home meets the memory of mine, I would have asked you."
Kara gets up, turns to face her, features indiscernible against the halo of the slowly setting sun. "I would have," she continues, getting down on one knee, "removed your ring," she says reverently just as she removes the ring from Lena's right hand, "and I would have," she holds the ring just on the edge of Lena's left ring finger, heart facing outward, "asked you to marry me."
Lena might have been expecting it, but her heart stutters anyway, simultaneously missing its next beat and soaring up and up. Kara looks at her with hope and not a single trace of hesitation.
"So," she asks, "will you marry me ?"
"Of course," Lena says, nodding furiously, "of course I'll marry you. There's nothing I've ever wanted more. I-"
Kara cuts her off by sliding the ring home and it feels so right that she forgets how to speak. She attempts to get up, fumbles and stumbles, drop to her knees a little awkwardly, and it's right there, with dry grass prickling her knees, that she kisses her fiancée with joyful abandon.
Nothing else matters but the press of Kara's lips on hers, the feeling of the ring on her finger, the way it digs into Kara's cheek when Lena grabs her face to hold her close. She's crying, and she knows Kara is crying too, can feel the wetness of both of their tears on her skin but it's okay ; if there has ever been a time for happy tears, it's now. They kiss, clumsy and feverish, clawing at each other's faces and clothes, and everything that was wrong, everything that'd been knocked astray is right again ; as if Kara putting that ring on her has finally tilted the Earth back on its rightful axis. Things are going to be okay now, Lena knows it.
They're interrupted by feet trampling the grass while Lena is attempting to catch her breath and Kara is busy peppering her face with kisses, strong hands wrapped lightly around her neck and jaw to keep her close.
"I know you're an alien," Alex grumbles, towering over them, "but don't you know it's rude to get engaged at other people's weddings ?"
Kara laughs, briefly, then kisses Lena again, long and slow, tongue darting between her lips while Alex pretends to gag on the side. "Sorry," she says when she draws back, "it had to be now."
Alex mumbles something under her breath then grumbles, a bit more audibly, "fine. I better be maid of honour. Come back inside now, Kelly's tipsy and she wants to make a toast."
Getting up without letting go of each other is a challenge, but they manage it with varying levels of grace. Before long, they're standing in front of Alex, Kara clearly trying not to cower under her sister's glare while Lena attempts to dust her clothes, keeping her hands busy that way. Alex rolls her eyes and sighs with surprisingly little annoyance. "Congratulations," she says before drawing them in a fierce hug, their heads bumping against each other, their hearts beating in sync. "Can't believe you go engaged at my fucking wedding."
"It's a day for love," Kara says, an aborted shrug jolting the embrace, "and I love her."
After everything, Lena can't believe it really is as simple as that.
The wind whistles in Lena's ears. She'd forgotten how hard it blows around here and she hangs onto Kara for dear life as they tread on the muddy path up the cliff with difficulty. If it weren't for Kara's strong presence at her side, her body sturdy like a rock, Lena would have no doubt been thrown to her death on at least two separate occasions. It would have been a shame really, to survive all these hardships only to be defeated by a gust of wind and the rocky lands of Eire. So she clings to Kara, and she watches where she puts her feet ; and even if she's half frozen and a light drizzle has slipped through the collar of her rain jacket, slowly drenching her to the bone, she's never been so fecking happy.
Kara turns to look at her, her lips move and Lena assumes she speaks to her but can barely hear a word ; which she tries to make her understand by attempting to shout over the wind.
"I can't hear you !"
Kara squints adorably in confusion, a gesture that makes her look so human, and somehow more real and palpable. She takes a decisive step forward and, crowding Lena with her warmth and cupping one of her ears with her hand, she leans towards the other and repeats, "do you want me to carry you ?"
"No !" Lena shouts, attempting again to cover the howling of the wind before she realises Kara can hear her just fine. "Why ?"
"It'll be quicker," Kara says, her warm breath tickling Lena's ear. "I don't want you to freeze to death."
"It's not that cold," Lena counters with, she is aware, a level of petulance that is not justified.
Kara laughs, short and sharp, the sound sending a shiver through Lena's body. "Your face is blue."
"I'm fine love," Lena, patting her arm. "You can carry me on the way down."
And well, it really is cold, and Lena's fancy jacket is not as waterproof as she thought, and it's been so long since she's worn hiking boots that she thinks her feet are going to fall off, but it's not a lie, she is fine. With some difficulty, she manoeuvres past Kara, and resumes her ascension, stopping only so she can grab her hand, and thread their gloved fingers.
It's not a difficult hike per se, the few other hikers braving the weather seem to be doing just fine ; but years of living under the Californian sun might have made Lena a little complacent in her own abilities to get around and she's paying the price now. They do make it to the top eventually, after Lena's tripped a third time and has gotten so close to the edge that it's quite possible Kara had the cyborg equivalent of a heart attack, and the view is worth every stumble along the way.
The clouds part to welcome them, casting a translucent light on the ocean which turns from a heavy aegean blue to a glittery welcoming teal. Lena knows the water must be freezing, but she imagines it warm to the touch, wanting to plunge into its depth and be carried to another world. Behind them, the countryside is resplendent, a patchwork of every shade of green she can possibly think of and then a few shades only Kara can see. The grass looks impossibly soft, it's a safe bed and an embrace, and the trees are cotton balls, dyed emerald green by uncertain children's hands. Lena does not need superhearing to perceive Kara's heart stuttering in her chest, to feel the way her breathing stammers at the view ; and this country, which had long stopped feeling like a home to her, is reborn within her, with her love at her side.
They remain at the top of the cliff for long minutes, just breathing and clinging to each other, Lena's cold hands slipped under Kara's open coat, her cheek pressed to the soft wool of her cream coloured Aran sweater. The waves crash below their feet and the wind howls in their ears, washing away every other sound and forcing the real world to recede to the background. Here they are okay, here they are safe ; here, they are home. Unwillingly, Lena's mind wanders to the manor back in National City, to her unsuccessful secret hunt for a new place to live for her and Kara and it's as she's looking at the sea, Kara holding her tight, that she realises that now that the dust as settled it doesn't matter where they are. If they're together, they are home.
Kara does carry her back down to the car. As a result of stopping to rest for a while, Lena's feet have decided to stop working properly and they both decide it's safer that way. To be fair though, Lena could probably do it, she's been through worst hardships that walking downslope on a cliff ; she just enjoys the feeling of pressing herself to Kara's back, her arms around her shoulders, Kara's hands effortlessly supporting her thighs, and she isn't about to be denied this simple pleasure.
She lets Kara drive them back to the house, confident that now that she's understood how Irish roads work, she won't lead them straight into a ditch again, and doses off with her head against the window, trying to catch a familiar word on the radio.
"I need to get back to Irish," she says as Kara exits the motorway. She never looks before she changes lane and though Lena supposes she doesn't need to since she can hear the cars coming, it still is particularly unnerving. "I think my Mum must have spoken it, I remember words, inflections, but that's all."
Kara slips onto a small country road, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car, and brings their intertwined hands to her lips. "We can learn together."
They decided against staying at a guest house, unsure exactly of the duration of their impromptu holiday, and rented a cottage instead. It seats on the edge of the village, not far from where Lena grew up, her childhood home now occupied by an elderly lesbian couple, their foster kid, and a dozen chickens. If anyone was going to get her house, Lena is glad it's them. They've had tea with them once already, in the living room Lena vaguely remembers with its stubby brick walls and ever crackling fireplace. It still smells like fresh bread in the house, and faintly of damp earth and dog breath ; she cried for the entire evening when they got home.
Saoirse and Deirdre found a mouldy cardboard box in the attic when they moved in, kept it all these years in hope of finding the owner of its content. There are a few toys in it, a blanket, frayed at the edges and delicately washed, and pictures, dozens of pictures. Of a woman with jet black hair laughing on the beach, of that same woman in a café with a crooked smile identical to Lena's, of a not yet hairless Lionel Luthor, but mostly of a little girl. A little girl with dark unruly hair and bright eyes, jumping in the waves in a pinstripe bathing suit, reading a picture book in an armchair thrice her size, snuggling to a dog the size of a small bear, laughing, hauling around a backpack too big for her, with her face covered in chocolate, looking dismayed at her bright blue boots covered in mud, happy. That night, bundled up under heavy covers in a too small bed, Lena clutches to her chest what she assumes is her childhood blanket. Kara's breath ghosts on her neck when she voices a question she's been asking herself privately for a while and there is only one answer ; yes, she does want kids.
"Do you want some tea ?" Kara calls out from inside the house while Lena is busy removing her muddy boots, sitting exhausted on the wooden bench in the entryway. "Biscuits ?"
The question is nothing more than a habit. Kara already knows Lena is going to say yes, she knows how much she clings to her routine, finding comfort in the familiarity. But just like it's a given that Lena is going to agree, it's customary for Kara to ask, and she smiles, the stretch of her lips making it difficult to answer.
"Sure love," she says, wiping her hands clean on her jeans. They're ruined anyway, the mud starting to crust all the way up to her knees and she has to bat Krypto away when he takes an interest in it, tail wagging happily just because she's here and he thought she was gone forever when Kara and her left him to go on their rainy hike. Considering who his owners are, she can't really fault her dog for having abandonment issues.
She washes her hands meticulously in the small lavatory, makes a detour to the bedroom to grab clean dry socks, and joins Kara in the veranda where heavy rain is now battering the windows, washing the world outside in deep greens and stormy greys. Kara has already laid the table with two steaming mugs, a plate of biscuits, and a dozen of sandwiches, and is busy trying to link her phone to the antic sound system, cheering happily when an acoustic version of Linger starts playing softly. She drops down on a chair opposite Lena and leans back on it, looking utterly content and at peace. A soft smile stretches on her face as she closes her eyes and starts combing her fingers through Krypto's fur, his head resting on her lap. She's pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, exposing her forearms. One is metal, the other impervious skin covered in scars, both glimmer softly in the glow of the single lamp lighting the small room. She stirs in a trickle of milk, lifts the mug to her lips, and drinks.
"You look pensive," she says matter-of-factly after she's put her tea back on the table with barely a sound.
Lena hums, takes a sip of her own tea. "I'm just happy," she says.
"Then I'm happy that you're happy."
She reaches across the table and Lena is happy to go with the flow, to let her take her hand and press her lips, warm from the tea, to the centre of her palm. A thought, a realisation that has started to simmer in her a while ago, breaks through the surface in her mind ; she's no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop. Lex is dead, he can't hurt them anymore ; and he didn't even succeed anyway, didn't break her, Lena is okay. And Kara, Kara is here, Kara is okay, alive ; and she's not going to leave her. She can breathe now, let go of the hurt and allow the bundle of fear in her chest to unknot and slither away.
"We could stay here you know," Kara says, "buy a house, settle. It's not a bad place to live."
Lena's heart soars at the offer but she shakes her head slowly and smiles. "We could," she says, "and I think ten years ago, or even just three, I would have jumped on an offer like that but now..." She lets the rest of her words trail off with an absent minded wave of the hand. It's nothing but a fleeting wish, and she parts with it with no ill feelings.
"We have a good life in National City," Kara finishes for her. Her face and demeanour bear no trace of upset. For her too, it was just a passing suggestion.
"But we're definitely buying a house here," Lena muses. "I was thinking of an old farm, with enough space for everyone to run around. Kelly and Alex already love Ireland, I'm sure they'll want to take the kids here. Sam loves being outside and fixing things so that's free labour."
"And we can have a place to escape to when we need it," Kara says quietly. She fiddles with her bracelet in silence for a while, the one she's taken to wearing again even if they're not married yet. "Thank you for showing me your home," she adds eventually, her voice strained with a peculiar timidity.
Lena squeezes her hand, runs her fingers along a thin white scar and smiles, mostly to herself. "I'll show you every part of me."
Which sure, is a cheesy thing to say, the cheesiest maybe, but it's true. Every little piece of herself Lena hasn't already shown to Kara she wants to lay bare in front of her. She has no fear anymore, knows Kara will take her as she is, crooked parts just like the rest of her. She's staring at her now, with a soft happy smile and crumbs all over her face because she seems incapable of eating anything without making a complete mess. She's got marmalade on her lips all the way to her cheekbone from the sandwich she stuffed in her mouth less than a minute ago and, half rising from her seat and leaning over the table, Lena wipes it clean with a kiss.
Kara laughs when she draws back, presses on the back of her neck to hold her in place, foreheads touching, noses brushing against one another with each intake of breath. "What was that for ?"
"You're a messy eater," Lena whispers, "someone's got to take care of it."
"Don't you know it."
"This will lead you nowhere," Lena grumbles. "Not until I've taken a shower. I have mud in unsavoury places."
Still, she kisses her again, slower, heart thundering in her ears and body tensing awkwardly from the unsustainable position. Kara smiles into the kiss, and God, she loves her so much.
"I love your unsavoury places."
"That's-" Lena chokes, biting back a laugh, "that's not as sexy as you think it is."
Kara wiggles her eyebrows. "Isn't it ?" she asks teasingly. "It must be, no ? Or you wouldn't marry me."
"Don't make me change my mind."
"You wouldn't," Kara scoffs with just a little too much cockiness that Lena considers scaring her. She can't hold the charade for long though, not when Kara is looking at her like that with eyes so dark yet so warm and inviting.
"You're right," she whispers, "I wouldn't."
She kisses her again, short and sweet, then clambers up and around the table to come straddle her lap, the old rattan armchair creaking under their combined weights.
"I love you," she says, cradling her face in her hands, running her thumbs over her sharp cheekbones, "so much. And I will never leave you again. I promise. I will bind my soul and body to yours, and I will never leave."
Kara looks at her in silence for a long moment, eyes boring into her, gaze peeling back the few layers that still stand between them until it feels like what she's looking at, what she's seeing, is her very soul. It should be frightening, Lena should want to run away, but there, with Kara's shaking hands on her waist and her body steady underneath hers, she's never felt so safe.
"I know," Kara says eventually, "I know. And I trust you with every inch of myself. You've more than made up for things that weren't your fault already, you can rest now Lena, you're safe, I love you."
Lena's heart briefly stutters to a halt, and instead of trying to find words, instead of losing precious seconds that sometimes still seem to be running away from her, she leans in and kisses her, pouring from her lips to hers the things she still occasionally struggles to say. The tea cools on the table, steam slowly curling away as it lays abandoned ; and as the storm rages on around them, rain falling heavily against the windows, all that Lena can think about, all that she wants to focus on, are Kara's eager hands on her, and her body, warm and passionate under hers.
They do have to leave Ireland eventually, get back to National City, their jobs, their family, but as they board her private plane on the air strip and Kara stands for a few seconds on the stairs, short hair ruffling in the Irish breeze, Lena knows with absolute certainty that they will be back ; she isn't saying goodbye to her homeland. This is not an ending, or even the closure she never really got to have with her home and her mother, but rather a natural continuation of her story. The moment they touch down in California, she puts an offer on a house.
Kara's leg bouncing up and down shakes the whole car. She keeps her hand clenched on her knee, pressing down to stop the motion with little success. She shouldn't be in a car to begin with, shouldn't have to be in such a confined space after the week she's had, full of disappointment and anger, but Lena wanted it to be a surprise until the very end. Clearly, it wasn't a good idea.
"We can finish on foot," she offers softly, her voice barely covering the low hum of the car, "we're not far."
"No," Kara counters without missing a beat, "no. I'm fine. I want to see what you're so excited about."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lena sees a slow smile stretch on her face. Kara deliberately unclenches her fist, and lays her hand on her thigh instead, palm warm even through the thick fabric of her jeans.
"I'm okay," she reassures, squeezing softly, "just a bad week."
Lena almost wants to laugh. In the grand scheme of things, compared to everything they've been through in the past year, this is indeed just a bad week, but it also feels like the understatement of the century. Often, little incidents piling up on each other end up amounting to more than one big catastrophe ; and where the anger, the fear, the emotions that might follow a disaster feel justified, the fury that builds up inside from small vexations feels wrong and suffocating.
Keeping one hand firmly in the steering wheel, she grabs Kara's hand with the other and lifts it to her lips to press a soft kiss to her skin. She doesn't need to say anything. Kara doesn't need to hear dull and generic reassurances, only for her to be here, unwavering ; to know that Lena won't take a step back at her mere presence, won't be wary of her hands shaking from restrained strength, won't spit on her, hassle her, be rude to her, question her right to exist on live television or call for her to be deactivated and stored away like a useless piece of junk.
She knows Kara has tried to tell herself it doesn't matter, that she's repeated to herself over and over again that most people are ready to forgive her, are grateful for her continued presence and guardianship ; but the minority of haters is so fucking loud that it's deafening. Just yesterday, an entire crowd assembled on the pier while she was wrestling with some nightmarish creature uncovered from the depth of the ocean just to boo her. It's a miracle there were no casualties, but the reporter who boldly shoved his camera in her face didn't choose that angle for his poor attempt at an interview. Upon coming home, Kara spent two hours with her face buried in her neck, just breathing, and Lena didn't move, because letting Kara hold on to her is the only thing that can outweigh the helplessness she feels when her love cries herself to sleep.
She lets go of Kara's hand to focus solely on the winding road. National City sprawls unevenly towards both the desert and the ocean, and driving North, the city's bounds are reached quite easily, the urban landscape thinning rapidly to leave place to vast expanses of nature, cypress groves, beaches, the odd cliff here and there ; and when Lena saw the listing for the house, she couldn't not do it. The small borough sits ten minutes away from the Dansenarias' suburban home, and thirty from the city centre. Forty on a bad traffic day, but they can always take the air way to work if they need to so it didn't exactly factor into her decision.
She slows down when she enters the clutter of houses, mindful of the children playing in the streets. They drive by an outdoor gathering, people drinking coffee on mismatched garden chairs directly on the sidewalk ; Kara perks up at the sight and Lena smiles to herself. This is everything Kara misses about their old apartment, the neighbours, the easy sense of community ; if she likes the house and they do move in, Lena thinks she'll fit right in.
She comes to a final stop at the very end of the road in front of the house that has been inhabiting her dreams since she first saw it. It's two storeys high, with an attic, but somehow still looks stubby in an oddly comforting way. It's got a porch, large windows with white wooden frames, and is covered in wood panels that might have been grey once but need a good paint job. Some shade of blue maybe, teal or cerulean ; unless Kara wants something different. The garden is overrun by weeds and bushes, the greenery spilling in an old swimming pool that Lena can already see herself doing laps in, and at the very back of it, is a gate that opens directly on a path leading down the cliff and to a secluded beach. The price, of course, is indecent.
They sit in the car in silence for a long minute, Lena's hand frozen on her way to unclip her seatbelt as she watches Kara seeing the house for the first time. She feels the overwhelming urge to fidget, but doesn't want to move and risk taking Kara's attention away from what she hopes will be their home.
"Did you," Kara asks eventually, voice a little hoarse, "buy a house ?"
"Not yet," Lena answers softly, finally undoing her seatbelt, "I wanted you to see it before I did that." She chuckles a bit nervously. "I mean, I do have the keys but I haven't paid for it yet so technically it's not ours and if you don't like it or think it's a stupid idea or anything I'll just drop them back at the real estate agency and we can pretend it never happened."
Kara interrupts her gently by pressing a hand to her thigh. "I can see us there," she says. "Clear as day. Do you want to give me a tour ?"
Lena releases a breath so long she almost chokes on it.
They get out of the car, Kara closing the door quietly after she's let Krypto out, and make their way to the house. Lena's hands shake a little as she unlocks the gate but Kara puts her hand on the small of her back and the simple pressure there lets her know everything is going to be alright. They forge a path up to the front door, wading their way through the tall grass, Krypto happily sniffing his way before them.
"I'll need to get a lawnmower," Kara muses, "some shears, potting soil. Mum can help with that I think."
"We could always hire a gardener," Lena points out, shivering at the mere idea of getting dirt under her fingernails. Kara whirls around to look at her, the look of utter shock on her face suggesting that Lena confessed to killing kittens instead of making a totally reasonable offer. "Or you could do it yourself."
"I want to do it myself," Kara whispers, running her fingers on the porch's banister. She seems enthralled by the grain of the wood under her skin, and keeps on brushing her fingers over the same spot over and over again. It must be grounding, Lena thinks, and it is so soothing to watch.
The floorboards creak under their combined steps when they finally make their way into the house, the long somewhat narrow hallway leading to a wide living room, currently plunged in semi-darkness. Lena goes around opening the shutters, the sudden influx of light revealing a thick layer of dust and an old peeling wallpaper.
"So," she says, "that'd be the living room."
She watches as Kara slowly revolves on herself, stopping for a moment to look at the chimney, then again at the low bench that runs down an entire wall.
"The kitchen's this way," she continues, pointing at a door she knows leads to a room painted an interesting shade of yellow. "And the stairs we passed on the way lead upstairs, if you want to go. We can take down that bench later."
Kara shakes her head. "I like it," she says, "looks sturdy. Good place to read."
Lena leads the way upstairs where she points out a room she hopes to turn into her office and another that would make a good nursery, maybe because the light purple wallpaper makes her think of kids and babies. There's a bathroom too, a little decrepit and in need of a good anti-mould treatment, but with an incredible antique bathtub she can already see herself lounging in.
The next floor up has a balcony overlooking the ocean and she thinks they'll make their bedroom here. She can already imagine it, knows where she wants the bed to be and the picture becomes that much clearer when Kara wraps her arms around her waist and presses her front to her back to whisper in her ears how much she likes the way the light spills into the room.
There's an old spiral staircase in one corner of the room and after they make their careful way up its steps, they find the attic, dustier, if possible, than the entire rest of the house, but flooded with light from the windows on either side of it.
"I could make my office here," Kara says, slowly walking around the room. "And we could have a library, and you'd come read with me while I work."
"You could also come read with me while I work in my office," Lena says, laughing, "but yes, I think a library would be nice here."
They'll need custom bookshelves to fit the slant of the roof, and it'll be a hassle to get everything up there, but she can see it ; God, she can see it. She already knows where they'll put the couch on which she'll curl up while Kara researches for her next interview, and knows which kind of light will be good for reading late at night. She can already smell the wax they'll use to keep the floors in good shape, and how it'll mix with the sea air coming in from the opened window. They're going to be happy here, and Kara seems to know it too.
She crosses the room in quick strides and lifts her clean off the ground, twirling her in a ray of sunlight before she comes to an abrupt stop and remains immobile, face tucked in her neck where she mumbles incoherences for a few long seconds that seem to exist outside of time entirely.
"Thank you," she says eventually, "thank you so much. This is perfect."
"We can sign today," Lena says, "have the contractors here by next week at most, move in in a month. What do you say ?"
"I say yes," Kara replies with a wide dorky smile, "of course I say yes."
She adjusts their position with ease, lowering Lena a little, but not enough that her feet are on the floor again and looks up at her with an overwhelming adoration.
"I can't wait for the rest of our lives," she whispers ; and frankly, Lena has no other choice but to kiss her.
She leans down, unused to being taller than Kara, and presses a hesitant kiss to her lips. Kara for her part is not as restrained, and she falls into the kiss eagerly, mouth hot and insistent even as Lena struggles to keep the upper hand. This new angle is more than enjoyable, and though her mind and senses are otherwise occupied, busy feeling the way Kara's arms press around her and the way her mouth parts for her, a tiny part of her brain is already listing all the furniture she's going to use from now on to be above Kara. She threads her fingers in her short hair, tugs to regain some form of control, a pleasing shiver running through her body when Kara lets out a tiny uncontrolled whine.
With the way they're both smiling, kissing becomes difficult after a while and Lena draws back, resting her forehead against Kara's. "Ready to go buy the house ?" she asks in between two short intake of breath.
Kara nods happily, the motion rocking them both. "Never been readier."
When they finally exit the house, Kara finding it necessary that they kiss in every room they pass on the way out, Krypto, who had been left to his own device, has find his way into a foul smelling puddle and is covered in a substance Lena wouldn't touch with a ten feet pole. It doesn't seem to faze Kara one bit who, after finding an old and leaky garden hose, starts wrestling with their dog in an attempt to get him clean. Lena takes several steps back to get out of the splash zone but she has to admit the sight is endearing. Kara, with her sleeves rolled up and her jeans and boots covered in mud and grass stains, attempting to hold Krypto down with one hand while the hose releases water from everywhere except the intended end.
She can see this being a regular show, can easily picture Kara play fighting with their dog now that they have more space to run around, and it sparks warmth deep within herself. She can see it now, can understand with no trouble that things were always meant to be this way. That from the moment she bumped into Kara on that fateful summer day, every step along the way, every single scar on their bodies, have lead to this moment, to Kara, free and almost unburden, having the time of her life in a puddle of mud with Lena at her side. So of course this is the moment someone chooses to scream in horror.
The cry is loud, and chilling. It seizes Lena by the guts, and she starts running in its direction almost as soon as Kara does, taking off towards the cliff in her dusty wake.
"Help ! Oh God. HELP !"
She arrives just in time to see Kara diving to a chorus of screams, and she doesn't really have any time to process what's happening, to fully understand that someone must have fallen off the cliff, before she's reappeared, floating down gently with a little kid in her arms.
Lena's heart beats in her throat and it seems to her that the whole world comes to a stop, hanging on to the next breath of the parent who extends shaky arms towards Kara. Kara hands them the kid delicately but with some difficulty, as the child clings on to her with fearful limbs.
A beat passes. Lena shakes so hard she thinks she might be about to pass out, and she presses her hand into Krypto's wet fur to keep herself upright.
"Thank you. Thank you Supergirl."
And Kara beams.