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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 days

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Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 4

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

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“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses.

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.”

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!”

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!”

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?”

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.”

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.”

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time.

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!”

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!”

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is.

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else.

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?”

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!”

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground.

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial.

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.”

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.”

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell.

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone.

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly.

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing.

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise.

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well.

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

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xoxoladyaz · 9 months

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AU-gust, Day 7: Boarding School

“It will be a miracle if we make it on time, Stella, so you should hope the Lord is watching. Heaven knows what an embarrassment it would be to your father if you were late.”

Stella Harrington stared out the window, watching as her family’s carriage drove her past the city park for the final time. “My apologies, mother.”

“Save your apologies for the train conductor,” Lady Victoria Harrington snapped as she began fanning herself. “This is the last time you will be allowed such a youthful indulgence. When you return, you will be returning as the future Lady Hargrove, and you shall act as accordingly.

“Truthfully, I am astounded that Lord William is so forgiving of your less desirable qualities,” her mother continued. (Stella has heard this sermon so many times, she could repeat it perfectly in her sleep.) “Then again, it is hard to find anyone of our stock these days when society is being overrun by the likes of that schoolmate of yours. Edwina Munson,” Lady Victoria scoffed. “I shall be having words with Headmaster Higgins about the sort of pupils he should be looking to accept in the future.”

Stella swallowed down the sour taste in her throat. “She does dilute the prestige of St. Catherine’s, doesn’t she?”

“New money,” Lady Victoria shook her head, although she seemed relieved at Stella’s words, as if the years of conditioning just what sort of people were right and wrong were firmly settled in her daughter’s mind.

(If she only knew.

Thank the gods above she didn’t.)

“Well, it appears you were on time after all,” her mother announced as their carriage pulled to a stop. “Be sure to send my regards to Miss Thompson,” she continued to instruct as Stella was helped out of the carriage by their driver, “and make sure to gather as much information as possible on Miss Perkin’s wedding to Lord Hagan, we mustn’t order the same floral arrangements.”

“Yes, mother,” Stella replied dutifully. She watched as Benjamin took her trunk and headed for the train, leaving her with just her small traveling case.

“Stella,” her mother drew her attention. She gazed imperiously at her daughter. “Be good.”

“Yes, mother.”

Lady Victoria nodded, and Stella was dismissed.

She picked up her small case and headed towards the train in a straight line, conscious of the fact that her mother’s eyes were following her the entire time. She nodded to Benjamin as she passed him by and, upon reaching the train, took out her ticket with trembling hands.

The conductor barely glanced at it, his eyes running lasciviously up and down her body instead. “Welcome aboard, Miss.”

“Thank you,” she replied, ensuring that although she was gazing up at him she was looking down the edge of her nose, and as soon as he stepped aside she made her way up the narrow steps and into the luxury cars.

She’d been on this train many times before, so she knew which rooms held her fellow schoolmates. She knew which cars held the most families and must be avoided if she was to make it on time.

(And she knew that the far side door at the front of the train was always open in the event that someone had to make a quick exit before the train left the station.)

Stella took off her unnecessarily frilly overcoat as she walked and stashed it in an empty corner. Her large hat was soon to follow, placed onto a table next to a small girl in a white dress. She pulled her hair out of its pins, leaving it in a long cascade down her back, and with a warm smile to the elderly attendant at the front of the train, disembarked on the other side and walked quickly and with purpose to the other ticket gate.

“Miss?”

“My apologies, wrong train,” she spoke without a second glance to the conductor.

Twenty more steps.

Fifteen.

Ten.

She took a sharp left inside the ticket gate and headed towards the luggage racks. It was always dimly lit in those rooms, even with the sun shining through the small, slatted windows, and as she rounded the corner she saw a figure in a fitted suit and a top hat pacing back and forth, muttering to themselves.

“ – quarter to noon, far side of the train - ”

Her heart quickened in her chest and her breath felt shallow, like she would never be able to get enough into her fluttering lungs. She was here.

She was here.

“Eddie,” Stella breathed, and the figure spun around. The figure – her Eddie – stepped into the light, a bright smile overtaking her face as she beheld Stella.

“Stella,” Eddie’s eyes ran all over her, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Stella replied, tears and giggles both caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry I’m late, I - ”

Eddie raced across the room and caught Stella up in her arms, pressing laughter and kisses all over her face. “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter,” she murmured with a final kiss to Stella’s forehead before reaching up and holding both of her hands to Stella’s face. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

“I’m here now,” Stella repeated, her own smile growing to match that of Eddie’s. “And I have the last of William’s gifts in my bag to sell.”

“Is that – you robbed your father’s safe?” Eddie asked incredulously with a shake of her head. “I – you didn’t need to do that, darling, we have more than enough from Wayne to get us started.”

“I know, I just – I wanted to help. I didn’t want it to be just you, I wanted it to be us.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie spoke softly, her eyes filling up with tears as she beamed at Stella. “Even if you brought nothing, it would always be us.”

Stella pressed a kiss to Eddie’s palm, unable to resist the pull of her eyes (or the pull of her skin). “We’ll save it for a rainy day, then. I’ve heard Indiana has those sometimes.”

“I don’t see any rainy days ahead for us,” Eddie replied with a smirk, dropping one of her hands to run around Stella’s waist. “Just clear blue skies for you and me.”

“Well, if there were,” Stella teased as she let Eddie draw her closer, “I wouldn’t mind.” She drew serious then, her eyes darting down to Eddie’s ring finger, empty and bare.

(Not for much longer, if Stella had anything to say about it.)

“Really?” Eddie hummed thoughtfully. “And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I just,” she swallowed a lump in her throat.

(They’d exchanged so many words in moments of passion: words of hate, at first, then words of anger. Words filled with tears and then acceptance.

Words of love, spoken quietly in the privacy of their shared room, moaned loudly in the ecstasy of their sheets.

But these words somehow felt the most important yet.)

“I want every sort of day with you,” she murmured, and when she looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes once again, she found that they were full of tears. “I want every day with you.”

Eddie shut her eyes as a few stray tears ran down her face. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Stella’s and exhaled slowly, whimpering softly as Stella gently kissed the tears off her rosy cheeks.

“It is you, and it is you,” Eddie finally spoke, reciting that first poem she’d written for Stella all that time ago.

“It is always you,” Stella finished for her, and her eyes slid shut as they finally – finally – kissed.

They stood there for some moments, relishing in the bliss of their reunion, until the clock struck noon.

“Time to board,” Eddie spoke as she cleared her throat and wiped away the last of her tears. “What do you think? Do I look like Edward Munson to you?” She stepped back and did a dramatic twirl. It was black – Eddie’s favorite color – and it hid her more feminine features perfectly.

Stella laughed. “I certainly think so. What about me, do I look like Steffi Munson to you?” Stella grinned as Eddie ran her eyes up and down Stella’s spinning body, this time with more heat.

“That you do,” she murmured, and she pulled Stella back in for a kiss that Stella – tragically – had to pull away from.

“Come on, you,” she said with a laugh. “It’s time.”

“To Hawkins?” Eddie asked one last time, her eyes betraying her fears that – even now – Stella would change her mind, would get on her train back to St. Catherine’s, would decide to leave her and become Lady Hargrove and live a life of luxury instead.

(Eddie always chose to forget, in these moments, that there was no life to live if Eddie was not a part of it. Not for Stella.)

“To Hawkins.”

Eddie smiled and held out her arm.

It is you, it is you, Eddie’s words echoed in her head as they made their way to the train that would take them to their new life.

No, Stella thought as they found their seats, as the train left the station, as Eddie pressed gentle kisses up and down the back of Stella’s hand.

It is always us.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #sapphic steddie #female steve harrington #female eddie munson #turn of the century #they're lesbians harold #august fanfic challenge

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