“Supergirl hiding in the bathroom. Ah, how the mighty have fallen.”
Kara whips around, so startled she almost loses control over her powers and floats straight up into the air.
“I’m not hiding!” With a quirk of the brow, Cat lets the door click shut behind her, and Kara’s shoulders unclench a little. “I’m just... “ What’s that excuse women always come up with in the rom-coms Alex loves to watch? “Freshening up. Yeah.” She makes a show of adjusting her tie. Cat snorts.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night, dear.” Reaching up she smooths her hands over the lapels of Kara’s jacket, and brushes imaginary dust off of her shoulder. “And the fact there’s three women vying for your attention in the ballroom, who are all under the impression they were your exclusive date tonight has nothing to do with me finding you here?” Kara opens her mouth to argue, but Cat bulldozes over her objections. “Nothing at all?”
“I didn’t know they meant a date as in an actual date!” She knows it sounds far-fetched, but it’s the honest to Rao truth. “They asked if they would see me at the ball and I said yes!”
Cat’s eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline, and Kara turns back to the mirror. She’s blushing so hard it’s a wonder the silvered glass hasn’t fogged up.
“So, you accepted three different invites and the thought that it may spark some conflict never occurred to you?”
“They didn’t invite me!” Cat just stares, mouth pressed into a disapproving line. She’s wearing the sort of expression she used to pull when Kara would get her coffee order wrong. Mild disappointment and deep disgust. “Well, I was gonna attend anyway, you know that.”
“That doesn’t solve my problem.” Just like that Cat’s hands are on her clothes again, getting rid of her tie altogether, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt so that her neck — corded with muscle but most of all unmarked — is in full view. “Normally a catfight between three of the most powerful omegas in this city would have the entire CatCo staff over it like flies to honey, with my blessing. But not during a CatCo sponsored event. Not under my roof , Kiera.”
“It’s Kara .” She says reflexively, trying and failing to dodge Cat’s fingers as they card through her short hair tousling it to hell. “Will you s— what in Rao’s name are you doing?”
“Precipitating events.” Taking a step back, Cat eyes her critically. Kara stares at herself into the mirror. Absolute shock aside, she looks… handsome. Definitely way more in control of the current events than she feels. “There. Now you can go back out there and solve this.”
“Solve— what am I supposed to do ?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you do, as long as you do it far, far away from here. Bring all three of them home, for all I care.”
“Cat.” Kara hates that a pleading note enters her voice. “You know I can’t! They don’t know I’m…” Supergirl , she mouths quietly, and has to avert her eyes in shame.
“Oh dear.” Cat pats her cheek, eyes softening for a moment so fleeting Kara’s sure she just imagined it. “I’m sure they’ll see that as a feature, not a bug.”
It’s her fault.
Even if she didn’t mean it, that doesn’t change the facts. At least from Cat’s perspective, and while Kara doesn’t really understand how she got into this mess exactly, it’s not hard to put herself into the other alpha’s shoes.
So it’s her fault, and Cat’s right. It falls to her to fix it.
The CatCo annual ball is the event in National City. People talk about it in hushed, reverent tones, but vibrating with all-caps excitement at the same time. Like it’s something special . Something everyone should do their best to attend once in their life.
Kara doesn’t understand that either, to be honest. Her first time, she went as Cat’s personal assistant, and seeing the opulence of the buffet and open bar, she’d imagined that was why people spent the rest of the year sucking up to her boss for an invite.
Stuffed full of shrimp cocktail and caviar-topped canapés, with champagne that was easily 50 bucks a sip fizzing on her tongue, she sympathized.
So it’s not a stretch to define her reaction as confused surprise when Winn, green with envy, had pulled her aside the next day to grill her about who chaperoned who, and what they had been wearing.
“I don’t know.” Kara still remembers squirming her way through the entire conversation, Winn’s face darkening with every question she had failed to answer. “I was busy.”
“You were eating, you mean.” He retorted, and then informed her that he expected her to write notes down the next time around.
She only truly understood the significance when, the following year, Supergirl received an invitation.
At that point Cat had still been none the wiser in regards to her identity, and the invite was delivered to the DEO HQ. Penned in Cat’s bold-yet-flowery handwriting. Kara knew so without looking, since she’d been present in the office as her boss sat down to write it.
It had taken some finangling, but in the end Alex had agreed it would be good PR, and so Kara had donned her suit, swooping into the ballroom through an open window as if she was on a mission.
Her retinas still hurt from the camera flashes. And it’s been two years.
But, if an evening spent as Cat Grant’s superhuman arm candy has opened her eyes to the glitz and glamor of the ball, Kara still doesn’t understand it. The things people will do just to attend. Including forgery.
Choosing the freelancing path means she’s technically not required to come to the ball anymore, but she does anyway. Feels she owes Cat for jump starting her career. Then, of course, there’s the Michelin star worthy food.
They have unlimited lobster this year.
Worse still, and maybe also dangerous considering exactly who’s involved, is not understanding the reality of her situation. Kara blames human custom; if she can’t wrap her head about humanity’s obsession with celebrities, what chance does she have with the intricacies of dating?
Kryptonian society has — had — its own set of rules, of course, and they may seem rigid to a human. Dogmatic, even. When two or more individuals choose to enter a partnership, gifts are exchanged to signal one’s openness to courtship. Color, value and material all send a message, and so many combinations are possible that entire codexes have been written on the subject. Thing is, there are rules and books, and when people don’t know what to do — it happens — they can just… go to the archives.
If any rules exist on Earth, Kara’s unaware. Everything would be so much easier. People coming with their personal instruction manual, but Kara’d settle for a compendium on social cues she still can’t read no matter her upbringing.
She envies Alex the ease with which she could always get a girlfriend. Kara wouldn’t call her sister a player. but she remembers the way Alex had people panting after her without ever really trying.
Kara could never.
But now she stumbled her way into not one, but three different dates, apparently. At the same time.
And as the faint clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation grow louder in her ears, Kara realizes she doesn’t know what to do about it.
Kara is brave.
It takes bravery to wake up every morning, with the thought that she and Clark are the last ones of their kind crossing her mind before her first sip of coffee and choosing to keep on living regardless. It takes a unique kind of courage to step into the path of danger, over and over and over again, for people that a lot of the time won’t even know about her efforts. Take them for granted because she’s gifted . It’s a superhero’s job to save the world.
Mostly, a blend of recklessness and lack of self-preservation are required to do what Kara does whilst knowing that no matter how strong she is, there are things in this universe that can potentially hurt her. Kill her, even.
So, Kara has proof that she’s brave, but as she walks back to the ballroom, that doesn’t feel like much.
If she super speeds out of the window she can fly a quick roundtrip to the Fortress. The data banks might offer some insight on her predicament. She could buy herself a little time, take the long way back. Let the problem fix itself, so to speak.
After all, if her three accidental dates can’t find her, they’ll eventually stop searching for her.
She’s eyeing a promising escape route — french doors overlooking the hotel’s private gardens — when they find her.
“Kara! There you are, darling.” It should be illegal to move that fast in Louboutins but in what must be the new Guinness World Record, Lena Luthor manages. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“ We have.” Second date Andrea Rojas is only one small step behind, long, elegant fingers closing around Kara’s left forearm, just as Lena grabs her right. The two frown daggers at one another in a way that suggests history, and Kara is sure that it’s only the several hundred witnesses one short corridor away that stop them from murdering each other.
Sam Arias — date number three, although Kara isn’t listing them in order of importance — seems content to watch the drama unfold, and when the other two start tugging her in opposite directions, the faintest grin plays across her lips.
Out of them, Kara would say Sam’s the one positively enjoying the situation, but what does she know? She already made the mistake of assuming the meaning behind a phrase as innocent-sounding as see you tonight would be literal.
Still, when she shoots what she hopes is a subtle look pleading for help, Sam’s grin widens until it skirts shit-eating territory, and the stare Kara gets back in return, couped with a slight shake of the omega’s head is an easy to read; you’re on your own, champ .
“I was hoping you could clarify something for us.” Lena tugs her arm again, and Kara’s so emotionally off-balance she actually stumbles. An involuntary step in her direction. That is some sort of tacit signal that the tug-of-war can commence, because Andrea pulls her other arm, and if she were a regular individual, Kara’s shoulder might just dislocate.
“Yes, Kara.” Andrea’s fingers tighten, but her tone remains deceptively silk-smooth. “Lena’s insisting that she is on a date with you.”
“Well, I mean—” Feeling herself start to sweat bullets, Kara redirects her puppy-eyed look to Lena. With luck she’ll be more amenable to lend a hand than Sam.
But Lena’s smile is one of triumph, and when she reaches out to cup her cheek like Cat had done, her fingers linger, thumb stroking out to trace the line of Kara’s jaw. The way she touches is far more intimate, and an honest to Rao whimper almost rips free from her chest.
Kara thinks she manages to hold it in, or if that some sound escapes her it’s basically inaudible. However, Lena’s scent wraps around her as fast as ivy crawls across a wall, and both Andrea and Sam seem to take note.
They close in, and she’s surrounded. Walled in. This is what bait must feel when sharks start circling in the water.
“I told you.” Lena remarks, to which Andrea scoffs full of contempt.
“She’s not agreed.”
“Well, she’s not denying it!”
Kara’s head whips from one to the other so fast it’s like watching tennis in Wimbledon. And she’s got only a vague idea of what and where that is.
“Kara?” They’re all looking at her now, and only Sam’s face holds a measure of pity. But just a little bit.
“I—” They’re never gonna buy the truth, which isn’t fair, so she settles for the path of least resistance. “Yeah.” Lena’s smirk blooms, but Kara’s next words effectively cut it off at the root. “I accepted a date from all three of you, I suppose.”
Several sharp gasps echo around them, but no sound comes from the three omegas. In itself, that is troubling enough, but when Kara notices they’ve gathered a small audience — and how could it be otherwise? — her heart sinks right through her stomach. Great. Just awesome.
She’s never going to hear the end of it. Alex is going to lock her up inside the DEO and throw away the key.
Then, something whirrs and a camera flash goes off right in her face.
Relocating somewhere more private seems like the best choice for everyone involved.
Kara would call it a rout, but she’s sure if asked the women with her would say it was an orderly retreat in the face of overwhelming, hungry for scandal forces.
She braces for another argument when it’s time to choose which address to give Andrea’s driver (her car was the closest) but the omegas settle on Lena’s penthouse surprisingly quickly.
Once there, however, it’s obvious they’ve just been gearing for round two.
“So, you either need to hire yourself a secretary,” Sam starts, plopping down on one of Lena’s couches without asking permission. “Or the fact that all of us are interested in dating you has flown right over your head.” Kara expects Lena to say something about Sam making herself at home, but she’s currently engaged Andrea in a staring contest. Daring her to try and do what Sam just has.
Kara remembers then that Lena and Sam used to be friends. Are still, if the whole Reign incident was any indication. Investigative journalism is her bread and butter, but she never felt the need to know what’s going on between them until now. Following Alex’s advice had seemed safer.
Just because she’s saved each woman’s life at some point or another, just because they’ve all helped Supergirl in some capacity doesn’t mean they need to be more than acquaintances. What Alex doesn’t know is that Kara likes all three for one reason or another, and yeah, maybe her brain hadn’t realized that’s how they feel too, but her heart certainly has.
“Well?” Sam prods, not unkindly.
“Uhm. Both?” Having somebody point out the obvious would have helped her avoid this disaster. Possibly prevented it. But also, Kara can’t deny the other part.
She lowers her gaze to Lena’s undoubtedly persian, certainly very expensive carpet, ready for a barrage of oh my god and are you for real . They’re never going to believe she hadn’t known any better. No one in their place would.
She finds herself desperately hoping the near invisible comm in her ear will crackle to life, calling her away on some emergency.
“Any idea how to resolve the...impasse?” Sam crosses her legs and leans back, the almost-smile back on her lips. Her scent, when Kara sniffs in her direction, is mostly curious. Lacks the harder edges of Lena’s and Andrea’s. Her energy is different too. Not relaxed, but it wouldn’t be wrong to say that, out of them all, Sam is the one most in control of her emotions.
“We could flip a coin.” Andrea jumps in. “Whoever wins continues on their date. If Kara agrees, of course.” She adds, like it’s an afterthought.
“You always liked to gamble.” Lena crosses over to her liquor cabinet, and Kara is tempted to ask her for a stiff drink. Alcohol won’t make a lick of difference, but it maybe, possibly will calm her nerves. She’s starting to feel like she’s the omega in the room, all things considered.
“Logically, the first person Kara said yes to should be the one to date her.” Lena observes the room over the rim of her shot glass. Moonlight spills in through the floor to ceiling windows, casting an argent luster across Lena’s chiselled features. Her skin is flawless alabaster, and Kara has to take a steadying breath. So deep her lungs fill until air has nowhere left to go.
They’re all beautiful in their own way. And it’s greedy, probably, but Kara wants them all.
Having multiple partners — more than one mate — was common enough on Krypton. It made dealing with cycles easier. Because everything else was so structured, society divided in guilds depending on one’s calling, the matter of love and family was the one thing left to the individual. Monogamy existed — Kara’s parents, for example, had adhered to its principles — but polyamory had been far more common than it is on Earth.
For starters, it served to keep tension to a minimum — Kara’s highschool years had been hell, not only because she couldn’t score a date to save her life, but also for the constant barrage of aggressive alpha pheromones stinking up the halls — and, before the birthing matrix was invented, helped to keep the dwindling birth rates from collapse.
If a single alpha — rare as they’d become — could sire more than one or two children, all the better.
Even after, as fertility went up, the custom had remained.
Kara is so lost in her own mind only the raised voices clue her in on the fact another argument has broken out.
“I’m not leaving.” Andrea is saying, eyes narrowed.
“This is my house. I could make you leave.”
“Oh? What are you gonna do, call security and throw me out? Can’t accept I asked Kara out before you did, can you?”
Lena and Andrea are so busy being in each other's faces they haven’t noticed that Sam has left the couch, siding up to Kara.
“Should I tell them, or will you?” She asks quietly, hand stealing a quick caress down her back. Kara has to bite her lip not to groan. Frankly, all she wants to do is disappear, but if there’s ever been a moment in which she should rise up to her ideal of bravery it’s this.
“Sam was the first.” Kara has to repeat herself twice to make her voice heard over the arguing. “She asked me first.”
As what she said finally registers, several things happen at once.
Andrea is the first one to react, disgruntlement painted in bold font on her face. She’s not used to coming second, that much is clear. Not accustomed to lose either, for that matter.
The journey Lena’s expression embarks on is very interesting. At first, her eyes round out in shock, then narrow in disappointment. Finally, a look passes between her and Sam, and she gives the other omega the tiniest nod. A blessing of a sort.
And Sam. Well, Sam opens her mouth and chooses violence.
“You know.” Something sparks deep in her eyes, and if Kara didn’t know better, she’d say it’s the telltale flash of laser vision. “I wouldn’t mind sharing. If Kara thinks she can handle three omegas at once.”
And oh, the smirk that stretches across her lips tells Kara she knows exactly what those words will do. Are doing.
Lena’s bed is big enough it could accommodate six with room to spare, but sprawled out on it, Kara doesn’t have the time to feel alone.
WIth Lena kissing up her neck on one side, and Sam nosing behind her ear on the other, it’s hard to keep her powers in check, and when Andrea crawls on top of her to capture her lips in a kiss that’s more than a bit bruising, Kara almost fists a hole through the mattress. That will never do.
“Relax.” Sam leaves a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses to her pulse, fingers making quick work of her shirt’s buttons. “You’re doing great.”
“So good.” Lena agrees, her mouth taking Andrea’s place against her mouth. She kisses differently, they all do, but the swipe of Lena’s tongue against her own is almost hesitant. As though, deepening the kiss too much too fast may hurt her.
When Kara starts sucking on her tongue, encouraging Lena’s exploration, the omega’s heart rate grows so frantic she can taste it. If they were alone, Kara would pull back and reassure her, but she doesn’t want to draw attention to her carefully concealed vulnerability. Instead, she lets her hands roam, stroking soothing circles on Lena’s spine.
There’s a sigh, and then Lena practically melts against her.
“I never thought watching other people make out would be such a turn on.” Andrea’s quip lands just shy of quivering. She’s trying to play the sophisticated, seen-it-all part, but her pupils are blown wide, and her mascara’s running.
“I can smell how wet it got you.” Kara doesn’t know where the accompanying growl comes from, but all three omegas react. Sam’s hand flies down to the buckle of her pants, Andrea licks her lips. Lena kisses her again, and this time teeth catch on Kara’s lower lip.
“Are you as big as you feel?” A note of wonder enters Sam’s voice. She’s given up trying to undo her belt for the time being, and contents herself with cupping Kara through the fabric of her pants. “You feel...wow.”
Her hand gives a little squeeze, and Kara bucks.
“Why don’t you pull me out and see for yourselves?”
It only takes minimal prodding for her alpha to bite back now, and it’s like they’re deliberately doing their damndest to push all of her buttons. Like they can tell Kara’s self-control is fraying, and are just trying to see what they need to do for it to finally snap.
Not much, really.
Her belt is unfastened with an almost threatening jingle of metal, and a split-second later, the cool air of the room is skimming over-heated flesh.
“Fuck.” Sam’s hand falls away. Her tone is awed. A little parched. “Oh, my God.”
“You’re so big, Kara.” Lena whines, eyes glued to her erection. Under their combined gaze, Kara’s cock seems to sway slightly. Big and fat and pink, tip already glistening with pearly pre-cum. “You’re—” She cuts short, and the camera roll of lewd pictures that must be unspooling through her mind is easy to imagine.
“I think it merits a round of applause.” Eager to be a step ahead, Andrea starts to shimmy out of her cocktail dress. “Maybe a standing ovation.”
“Your mouths and cunts wrapped around it will suffice.” Again, Kara is stunned by her own dirty mouth. A darkness is stirring inside her chest. Not evil, but hungry. And it wants to be fed yesterday .
“Oh, honey.” Andrea might be half naked already, but it is Sam who sucks a first mark over Kara’s pulse. It’s the promise of a mating bite that her hooded, possessive eyes promise will soon come. “I don’t think you’ll have to ask for that twice…”
It becomes hard to keep track.
It’s a tangle of bodies in the moonlight, sleek with sweat and shared arousal. A series of Polaroid images seared indelibly in Kara’s mind while teeth and nails and hands leave bruises on her body that will be gone by morning.
She expects Sam to demand her attention first — going by Lena’s previous logic — but a strange alliance has formed between her and Andrea. Which means they languidly recline in one another’s arms and watch as Lena takes Kara in her mouth, crimson lips sealing around her head before she welcomes every inch of cock into her throat. A surprising, impressive show of skill that is almost enough — combined with the sensuous spectacle of Sam deftly stroking Andrea to a first frenzied release — to make Kara spill in Lena’s mouth.
Lena’s grey-green eyes brighten knowingly, but before she can drag Kara over the edge whether she likes it or not, she’s pulled off of her by the scruff of her neck, strangled protests buried in a sea of fluffy pillows when Kara pushes her facedown on her stomach.
“Wanna cum inside you.” The curt explanation culls the omega’s resistance, and under Kara’s weight Lena goes pliant. Ragdoll-like as Kara grabs her hips, pulling her ass into the cradle of her pelvis.
After that, it’s liquid heat, Lena’s walls rippling around her every thrust, Adrea crawling behind them to shower Kara’s bowed spine in kisses and sharp nips.
It seems to go on for hours. Kara spills inside of Lena a first time, then a second, the head of her cock catching into Lena’s g-spot whenever she angles her hips just so.
“No more.” Lena begs, after what’s maybe the fifth climax in a row is torn out of her frame. “No more, please.”
“You heard her.” Sam sighs at her ear. “Besides we want a turn too.”
Everything blurs, and when Kara blinks the world back into focus, she’s lying on her side, sandwiched between Sam and Andrea. Lena’s propped up nearby, staring avidly as Sam bites Kara’s shoulder. She’s taking a breather, alright, but Kara’s positive she’ll be back in the game in no time.
“Shit, no wonder you’re so sore. She’s huge .” Andrea is the one facing her, and as she speaks — to Lena, not her — cool fingers stroke Kara’s aching length, lining her up to Andrea’s opening. Spurred forward by the sweet heat of the omega’s cunt, Kara sinks in, hard enough to make Andrea cry out.
“Slower, sweetheart.” Sam’s orderly voice brings some semblance of self-awareness to Kara’s lust-fogged mind. “You don’t want to hurt her, do you?”
“N— no…” Andrea is clinging to her, one leg thrown over Kara’s hip. She’s utterly still, and Kara nuzzles at her pulse, doing everything she can not to move until she’s ready.
“There you go.” Sam is doing something at her back, but Kara can’t figure out what. “Let her adjust.” Gentle hands soothe up and down her arms, taming Kara’s basest instincts, and it is Andrea who starts to grind first. Kara’s eyes close, and completely blissed out, she allows herself to be ridden.
Her eyes shoot open a moment later, something cold and hard pushing against her asshole.
“Breathe.” Sam urges, licking at her jawline. “You want to be full, don’t you? Let me fuck that pretty ass of yours while you cum inside Andrea?”
Yes. Sam pushes more firmly, and Kara recognizes the foreign object for what it is. A strap, dripping with lube. Yeah. She absolutely wants that.
“There you go.” Andrea is coming around her shaft, clenching so hard that Kara’s body loosens in response. “Let me in, nice and easy.”
It feels so full, with Sam gently push-pulling inside her rear, breath increasingly more ragged as the base of the strap rubs directly over her clit. They come together, so hard that Kara thinks she may start to cry from the intimacy.
She does, maybe. Can’t remember much. Only flashes. Sam rides her while she’s on her back again, the omega’s nails digging into her abs as her hips describe a lazy figure eight. Lena kisses Andrea, before the latter eats her out with Kara jerking herself off over them both.
All of them cuddling at some point, after Kara’s stamina hoisted the white flag of surrender. She has no idea what time it is by then, but far to the east, the sky is blushing pink with dawn. Flustered red with their sexual exploits.
It’s well past noon when she stirs from a heavy, leaden-limbed sleep. Lena and Andrea are still curled around each other next to her, but Sam is nowhere to be seen. Kara slips out of bed slowly, so as not to wake the others, and when hunting for her discarded shirt yields no results, she grabs an old t-shirt.
Lena’s scent pervades the well-loved fabric, but tugging it over her head, Kara has a feeling she won’t mind her taking it. They’ve shared way more than clothes, after all.
A quick listen is enough to reveal Sam’s location, and just as her super senses had revealed, Kara finds her in the kitchen, making coffee.
“Hey.” It’s the greeting, more than how soft Sam looks, haloed in sunlight, that freezes Kara on the doorway. Only as Sam’s sharp eyes scan her face, does she remember she’s not wearing her glasses. It hadn’t been an issue the night before, in the velvet dark of Lena’s bedroom, but now—
“Kara. Kara, hey.” Sam is standing in front of her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay. I know, already.”
“You—” Wait. “How?”
Sam’s smile is tinged with sadness.
“I don’t remember much about Reign. Have nightmares, mostly.” She makes to let Kara go, but Kara tugs her back. She smells so hurt, a weeping, open wound. Raw and un-healed. Kara wants to help. She’ll do anything to make the pain stop, if Sam lets her. “But I remember you punching the living lights out of me.”
“Hey, it’s fine.” Standing on her tiptoes, Sam pecks her cheek. “You did what had to be done. And you chose to try and save me when it'd been much easier to just kill me.” Alex had wanted to, but Kara couldn’t. Not when the blood of her people filled Sam’s veins.
Too choked up to speak, Kara just holds her, Sam’s face tucked into the crook of her neck. They stay that way as the coffee gurgles in the pot, and then it becomes a bit embarrassing, when she starts to get hard.
“Should we, uhm, go and wake the others?” Kara gently disentangles, hands closing around the hem of the shirt. No matter how she pushes it down, there’s no hiding what is happening.
“Seems like someone’s already awake.” Sam laughs, cradling her face to kiss her. “But, yes. If I let them sleep through this,” she gestures to the periphery of Kara’s nether regions. “I’ll never know peace.”
“Sam wait.” The omega brushes past her, and Kara has to grab her wrist to stop the process. “Do…” She wets her lips, and lurches out of the kitchen, in Sam’s wake. “I mean, do they know?” That she’s Supergirl. Kara Zor-El and Kara Danvers. Two sides of the same dumb coin.
The drowsiness of early afternoon evaporates, and the entire world hangs in the balance while Sam considers.
“I don’t think they do, but they’ll catch on soon. Telling them might be best, and I’ll help if you want.” You’re not alone, Kara . Sam doesn’t go as far as to say the words out loud, but the tenderness in her eyes speaks volumes.
“Okay.” Taking her hand, Kara allows Sam to guide her to the bedroom. She has no idea if it will work, the four of them together. It may not even be what Lena and Andrea want.
She’s willing to try.