#forgive any errors

"Where is she?!"

The growl issues forth from your throat before the doors of the local station even fully swing open for you. How you'd found out, and how quickly you'd gotten here is irrelevant. All that matters is you're here now.

Aaron's is the first face you see and his doesn't help to calm you, to tame the anger masked worry on your face. He steps away from the officer, quickly excusing himself, to turn to you. He doesn't offer excuses, a credit to him, and he doesn't attempt to stop you.

"She's with JJ right now. She's okay."

Okay. Okay is a fucking understatement. Almost drowing at the hands of an inbred sociopath doesn't even come close to the definition of okay.

You shove past him, had he tried to stop you you would have shoulder-checked him and he would have let you, he would have allowed anyone to in this circumstance.

"How are you doing?"

Jennifer's voice lilts through the hallway as you stalk closer, and it sounds like a prompt, like she's asking for a real answer, it's not the first time she's asked.

And then you hear it. The voice that matters to you more than anyone else here, you loved the team, of course, but not the way you loved her. You hear Alex.

"I just..." Her voice breaks, shatters like stone, and it nearly sears your broken heart, "i couldn't breathe!" She sounds like she's fighting, clawing for air, and you want to burst in right now, to interrupt, but that wouldn't be fair, not to JJ, and not to her. It's Alex who needs this moment.

"We sent thirty bullets into that water." JJ's tone is soft, soothing, "Alex, he's dead."

You don't listen to what Alex might have said next, because it's then you make your presence known.

"He better fucking be."

Your growl, the snarl, it's poison on your own tongue, your hatred for a dead man, he'd better hope he was dead at least. Because if you got your hands on him...

"Oh god."

Alex breathes, knees buckling at the sight of you, the sound of your voice, you'd never seen her like this, so scared, not in all the time you've known her, she's been scared before, but not like this.

JJ rushes to keep her standing and you meet her halfway, accepting Alex's weight as your own. Your hand tangles in her damp hair, and you can smell the mildew and damp sock smell immediately.

"Oh god." She repeats, sobbing into your shoulder, a rare display of public fragility. She normally keeps everything inside so well, that seeing her like this, while not surprising to her co-workers, sends ripples of worry in them. "Oh god I'm sorry."

"No." You bark, harsher than you'd intended. "No." You repeat, softer now, "Don't. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."

"So scared." She mumbles against your shoulder, and she's gone, she can't hold the mask in place anymore, after tonight, no one could have expected her too. "I was so scared."

"I know. I know, you're safe now. I promise."

Your eyes find JJ's, a look passing between you, you need her help, to get Alex out of here and back to the hotel. She won't leave unless everyone else does, she won't rest until the case is done.

"Well, I am beat. I think i'm gonna head back to the hotel and check in with my boys. You guys should do the same. Derek and Spence left already, and I think Hotch is wrapping up."

Alex nods and you sigh internally in relief. One arm wraps around her middle, though she's perfectly capable of walking herself, she lets you hold her anyway. Needing the grounding you always provide.

"We aren't flying out until morning." She mumbles as you both pass by Aaron again, "how did you—"

"Penelope helped me out."

At this, Alex barks a waterlogged laugh that jostles her for a moment too long, and it genuinely scares you.

"Of.." she coughs, "of course she did."

"Easy, easy. Maybe we should go to the ER."

"No." Her whisper is half plea. "Please, no hospitals, I'm fine. I swear."

You don't need to look at her to see her eyes, to know the exact way she's looking at you. And you give in. Of course you do.

"Fine. But if you feel even the slightest bit sick..."

"I'll tell you." She finishes your exact thought. "I promise."

"Alright."

You hum your assent, and the SUV chirps to life from the key fob in your other hand. She grips the door handle and slides into the passenger side without complaint. Normally you wouldn't be allowed to drive a goverment issued vechicle like this, but given the situation, you doubt anyone would stop you. Not even Rossi.

Soon enough the hotel door closes behind you and the lock clicks into place. Alex hasn't really said much since you'd left the station and that was fine, until it wasn't. You need her to talk to you. After what happened, god she has too.

"Are you going to say anything?"

"I just want to take a shower and sleep."

"That's not fucking good enough Alex! I need you to fucking talk to me! You almost fucking died today and all you can think about is a fucking shower?! Jesus Christ!"

She backs away from you just slightly, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of the bedside table inbetween the two beds of the room.

"I don't know what you want me to say..."

"Anything! Alex! Any fucking thing!"

Hot tears swarm down your face and the anger melts away, fear replacing it. You know this about her, that she has trouble communicating, and you get it, you really really do. But god sometimes you just hate it. You hate it when she can't tell you anything, can't or won't.

Alex shrugs, slumping down on the first available bed and drops her head into her hands.

"I tried to shoot." She murmers at last, "my gun went off, I saw blood, I must have grazed him. He pulled me under with him... I couldn't... I couldn't..."

You drop on the bed next to her, guilt swirling in your stomach now, you shouldn't have yelled at her. Not after the ordeal she'd been through.

"I couldn't breathe!" Her nails claw at her throat helplessly and you carefully coax them away. Pulling her into your arms instead.

"I don't know what would have happened if I had missed. If... if my shot hadn't connected. If Morgan and JJ hadn't shown up... I... I was so scared I'd never see you again. Never see anyone again."

"Oh baby, oh honey." You coo, you don't kiss her hair, you're not keen on tasting that water, but you do keep your arms around her. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry I yelled at you. I'm not mad at you Alex, I was scared. So scared. And sometimes I forget how hard it is for you to... to open up. I'm sorry."

You stay like that for a while longer, your apology hangs in the thick, southern air around you, hugging you like smog, before you pull back some, take her face in your hands.

"Let me take care of you. Just for tonight?"

She nods, out of energy, out of words, body and brain shutting down, as you suspected they might. That's alright. You no longer need her to speak, just be alive, alive and safe with you.

You beckon her up, offering your hand, and guide her into the tiny bathroom. Lucky the bureau had sprung from rooms with actual tubs in them. Gently you lower yourself to the side of it, plugging the drain and adjusting the temp.

Alex stands, arms hugging across her lithe frame, damp clothes clinging to her body, wet hair curling around her face and throat.

When you're satisfied you stand up, closing the small distance between you both.

"Come on, can I help you out of these wet clothes?"

"Yeah."

Her consent is a whisper, but it's enough to hear, and slowly you peel her dark blue t-shirt from her chest, unhook her black bra—you don't linger— undo the button on her soaked jeans, and pull them from her legs, her underwear too, throwing them in a pile on the bathroom floor.

"Come on."

You take her hand, lead her toward the bath, but she falters, stops. A whimper spills from her throat, tiny, helpless, near silent.

"Hey..." you whisper, "it's okay. This... this is safe. I promise. I'm right here, and I'll be with you the whole time okay? I won't let you go under. Okay? Trust me?"

"Yeah." She echoes, taking a tiny step, and then another. Slowly you lift one of her ankles, placing her right foot into the warm water, then the other.

"Can you sit for me? So I can wash your hair?"

After another second of hesitation, Alex contemplates just calling this whole thing off, she acquiesces, and coaxes her body to sit.

The water does feel nice, admittedly, and she's surprised that she even relaxes a tiny bit.

"There you go. See. Nothing to be scared of."

You reach for the shampoo, she always brings hers from home, something else about her you'd learned, she hated not having her own supplies, her own things. Tiny routines like her own soap helped soothe her when her mind got too overstimulated.

You pour some into your hand, dipping it into the water to give it some purchase against her hair in a moment, and get to work, working the lather in until the scent of strawberries fills the small room.

You work until your fingers ache, massaging her scalp soothingly, not wanting to stop until you know she's ready. Finally though, you help her lean back, it makes her stiffen again.

"Right here. Remember?"

She hums her remembrance, and allows you to lower her slightly, just enough to rinse her hair. It floats around her in the tub and you're careful not to let it get into her eyes or near her neck.

"Alright. All done. Lets get you comfortable and dry."

You help her to stand and wrap a fluffy white, hotel grade towel around her, drying her hair with the other one left in the room. She likes to let her hair mostly air dry, so you just squeeze the excess water from it and let it be.

"Feel better?"

You ask her, once you're both dressed for bed and slightly more comfortable, with her laying across your chest, and your fingers dancing through her hair softly.

"I do. Thank you. For coming."

"Wild horses Blake, wild horses."

She snorts a laugh, rolling her eyes.

"Garcia tell you that one?"

"As a matter of fact, she did."

You kiss her hair this time, this time it smells like her again, as you chuckle into her scalp. The TV is on in the background, some historical documentary—Anne Boleyn you think— it's one of your shared niche interests, but it mostly just serves as something mindless that can drone on, putting you both to sleep.

"I should have waited for backup, I should have waited for Morgan."

"You were doing your job, Alex, you saved Cissy. You couldn't have known what would happen."

"It's quite literally my job to know."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"Someone has to be."

"And let it be the brass, fuck, let it be Aaron, but it doesn't have to be you. Okay? Let yourself forgive yourself, because you saved that woman's life. That is no small thing. I'm just glad... glad you're still alive to see that."

"You were really scared?"

"Fucking terrifed." You laugh, "If looks could kill, Rossi would be arresting me for homicide on Hotch."

"You should apologize. To all of them."

"I know. I will, but my first priority, always, is you."

"You spoil me."

"Maybe. But you deserve it."

You kiss her forehead, her nose, and finally find her lips, it's not a passionate, lover's kiss. Its sweet, chaste, and soft. All you both need.

"I love you." She says suddenly, "I don't say that nearly as much as I should. I'm terrible. I'm terrible at putting my feelings into words, at communication, which is so stupidly ironic considering I study people's words for a living, my brother, oh it drives him insane, drove my mom crazy too, none of them understood it. Not really, how I could be so good at words, understanding them, the syntax of language, and yet be so bad at expressing my own thoughts and feelings. I wish I were better at it, and I'm trying to be I really am, but sometimes i just can't seem to... to see the world the way everyone else does, sometimes I forget not everyone is so blunt, so straightforward. The world would be so much simpler if everyone just said what they mean, but that's probably asking way too much."

She's rambling again but you don't interrupt.

"So, rather than deal with that, I just... end up not saying anything at all, and that comes off as cold or uncaring, but I do care, a lot. I love my brother, my father, I adored my mother, but I could never find the right way to express that. And I love you, so so much, and it scares me, it scares me because I can't express that the way I know you wish I could, I'm trying, but I dont want you to think that I don't care, that I don't love you, because I do."

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." Your lips ghost against her ear for a moment. "I know how hard it is for you, to communicate, at least in the way the world thinks you should, but I don't give a damn about what the world wants. Alex, I know you love me, I don't need fancy declarations to know that. I'm sorry that I implied i was angry at you for something you can't help, that was wrong."

"My dad thinks... my brother, they wish I would change, visit more, write more, as much as i wish i could, as much as I want too, I... I forget. Genuinely. I just... forget how much it hurts them, not hearing the words, because they can't, they can't feel it, they can't understand love without words, actions. It's not that I love them less, of course not, but... it would be nice if they could try to understand me, instead of trying to change me."

"I'm sorry." You say again, "I never, never want to change you. I'm sorry I said that. I was just so scared I lost you, that you going silent... god Alex, it scared the hell out of me."

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I know you didn't. I know you needed to regulate, and I'm glad you let me help you to do that. Thank you, for letting me take care of you."

"Just don't go around telling people okay?"

She chuckles, nuzzling deeper into your chest, her ear pressed against your ribs, listening to your heart.

"Your reputation is in good hands, I promise."

You tease, smiling to yourself a little. You still can hardly believe this gorgeous woman is yours. That it's you she comes home to after cases, you who she lets see her scared and vulnerable, you who she lets wash her hair. You almost want to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming all of this. Alex Blake. Cunning linguist and badass FBI agent, is your girlfriend. Holy shit right? What had you ever done to deserve that? Deserve her?

You both turn your attention back to the televison, the pretty blonde British historian is telling you about a book of hours, from what Alex had told you, basically it's a book of prayers, meant to be read at certain hours of the day, hence the name. You settle into the explantion, letting the years of old travel you back in time.

When you look at Alex again, a short time later, you're unsurprised to find her asleep, one hand gripping the hem of your shirt.

Your phone's vibration takes you out of your revere. A text from JJ.

"How is she?"

"Asleep now."

"That's good. She needs rest. Take care of her."

“I’m glad you decided to meet me Sophie. I was worried you would back out.” Kate says as she brings their coffees to a table that Sophie is leading them to. Kate sets the drinks down and her and Sophie sit in their respective chairs across from one another. As soon as they sit, Sophie bites down on the blueberry muffin that she ordered so that she doesn’t have to answer Kate right away. She watches as Kate blows on her coffee and takes a timid sip. 

“Ok Sophie, I’m just going to say it. I want you back. I want us back. I’m really sorry for the way that I left. I had so much on my mind and I didn’t know how to handle it. I had to get away to process everything.” Kate said. 

Sophie takes a deep breath. “I understand that Kate. But, you can’t just keep coming and going. I want closure. I want to move on from this time in my life. I want to close up these wounds and you, you just keep pouring salt on them.” Sophie looks up to see Kate’s reaction to her words. Kate looks taken aback. 

“Sophie–” Kate starts.

“Look, Kate. I know it is not your fault, what happened to you, and what they did to you. And I’d love to be here for you as a, as a friend but I’m not ready to be with— no. It’s not that I’m not ready. I don’t want to be with you in that way, Kate.” Sophie says. Sophie looks apologetic, but she also looks determined, fierce, confident, older. This Sophie was different from the one that Kate knew.  

“It’s Ryan isn’t it.” Kate says suddenly. Sophie’s heart leaps out of her chest. How the hell did Kate put that one together. 

“What’s Ryan?” Sophie says, not wanting to offer anything up and waiting to see what else Kate was going to say. 

“Come on Sophie, you know you’ve always been an awful liar. She was there with you last night wasn’t she.” Kate says. It wasn’t a question. Sophie shifts in her chair and looks out the window. None of this was Kate’s business. 

“Do you love her?” Kate asks. Sophie stays quiet. Her and Ryan hadn’t even discussed what they were yet, no way was she going to be giving Kate this tea. 

“Ok, you don’t have to tell me.” Kate says in that smug way she always says and does everything. Like she knows better than everyone, like she knows people better than they know themselves. “I guess that’s what Ryan meant when she said her and I had more in common than I knew.” Kate says. 

“I’m a different person than I was when I was with you Kate. I’m not going to get into what is going on with me and Ryan because that’s not any of your business, but I’m not going to hurt Ryan, I refuse to hurt her actually, and I would never betray her trust. Even if it wasn’t for Ryan, you and me just can’t work out. We want different things and we are at extremely different points in our lives. I can’t keep living in the past. I want to move forward. You’re my past Kate, and it is something that is part of me, but it’s not my story. You know, you’ve not asked me once about what has been going on since you’ve been gone. It doesn’t feel like you want to know the new me, it feels like you want to hang onto the old me. But the old me wasn’t happy, the old me was hiding in the closet, scared to be out, scared to tell my mom who I really was. The old me was sneaking around, scared to be myself. The old me was stupidly dedicated to the Crows, so much so that it almost got me and my friends killed!” Sophie says the last parts of her speech breathlessly. Kate looks shocked and confused. 

“See, you don’t even know all the things that have happened. And again, I don’t blame you Kate. You came back from the dead, you had other fish to fry. But that’s just it. Us and timing. Even with you coming back now. It was not good timing, and I don’t think it ever will be.” Sophie says. She starts sipping her coffee now that she was sure it had cooled down. She watches Kate. 

“Well that settles it then, doesn’t it.” Kate says.

“Kate—” Sophie tries, she doesn’t want to end on a sour note. 

“No, no I’m not mad Sophie. I appreciate your honesty.” Kate gulps the last of her coffee and stands up. Sophie takes this as her que to stand as well. Sophie cleans up her crumbs into a napkin and crumples it in her hand. Kate takes their empty coffee mugs up to the front counter. They walk out to the parking lot. Sophie looks around for Kate’s motorcycle and then sees it parked some feet away, sun glistening on the handle bars. Sophie puts her hand above her eyes to shield the sun. 

“Ryan is lucky to have you, kid.” Kate says. She regards Sophie with a look and then starts off towards her motorcycle. 

“I’m pretty lucky myself, actually.” Sophie says to Kate and then smiles to herself.

“You always did like your women in suits.” Kate says. She continues walking towards her motorcycle and then turns around and gives Sophie the two finger salute. Sophie smiles and watches as Kate gets on her bike, puts her helmet over her head, revves up the engine and then takes off. Sophie hates to admit it but she hopes it’s the last time that she sees Kate. at least for a while. She wasn’t lying when she said they could be friends, she also wasn’t lying when she said she refused to hurt Ryan and break Ryan’s trust. Sophie jumps into her car and heads back to her place, on the way she calls Ryan to see if she will meet her there. 

******************************************************************************

Sophie enters her place and see’s Ryan lounging on the couch watching some Batman cartoon, she’d figured when she told Ryan to meet her here that Ryan would get there first and let herself in. She gave Ryan a key a couple of weeks ago and it’s been fun to come home to someone that she cares so much about. It’s still blows her mind that only a year ago her and Ryan couldn’t stand each other. And now Ryan was all over Sophie’s place. In Sophie’s bed, on Sophie’s couch, on Sophie’s shirts, in Sophie’s arms.

“Hey Soph! How cool is it that I’m literally watching Batman, and I’m freakin Batwoman bish!” 

Sophie laughs. “Pretty cool, babe.” Ryan looks up and smirks at Sophie and the pet name that just slipped out of Sophie’s mouth. Ryan sits up and pauses the TV. 

“How is Kate?” Ryan asks. Sophie takes off her shoes and coat and goes to sit next to Ryan on the couch. 

“Kate’s... Kate. She’s gone again.” Sophie says and rolls her eyes. 

“Are we, are we mad about this?” Ryan asks. She is not sure how Sophie is feeling but wants to support her in whatever way she can. 

“Gosh no.” Sophie says briskly. Ryan says nothing and Sophie continues. 

“Kate wanted to get back together and I shut it down. She uh, she actually kind of guessed that something was going on between you and I, I didn’t really confirm it completely but she seemed to know anyway. I didn’t give her details.” Sophie says hesitantly, trying to register Ryan’s reactions. Ryan still says nothing, she just looks at Sophie with those rich, deep brown eyes of hers and Sophie has to look away because sometimes Ryan is just... Ryan is so raw and fragile at times that it makes Sophie ache. Sophie swears that one day she is going to drown in a pool of Ryan Wilder’s eyes. 

Ryan finally speaks. “So, Kate suspected that something was going on between you and me and that bitch still tried to shoot her shot!” Ryan says pretending to be extremely incensed. Sophie sniggers at Ryan’s antics. 

“She kept trying to pry but I didn’t want to tell her.” Sophie says. Ryan looks confused. 

“You didn’t want to tell her what?” Ryan says. 

“I didn’t want to tell her how crazy I am about you. I mean I did want to tell her. I want to tell everyone! But I thought you should be the first to know how I feel.” Sophie says. She puts her hand on top of Ryan’s hand. 

“And uh, how do you feel?” Ryan quietly asks. Sophie’s answer comes in the form of her lips on Ryan’s lips. Ryan’s eyes flutter shut and Sophie places her hand behind Ryan’s head to deepen the kiss. They break apart and lean their foreheads together. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that, can you repeat it? How do you feel?” Ryan jokes. Instead of another kiss, Sophie wraps Ryan up in a hug, placing her hand on Ryan’s head and pulling her into her chest. They fall back onto the couch. 

“I feel like everything that happens from here on just proves that you have been right in that first moment. When you suddenly realize that you were incomplete and now you are whole...” Sophie says, almost to herself. 

“Not you quoting Imagine Me & You.” Ryan laughs and buries her head into the crook of Sophie’s arm. Sophie laughs and then there is a comfortable lull in the conversation, where their breathing and heartbeats synch up once more. 

“I dare you to love me.” Sophie barely says above a whisper. 

“I just might.” Ryan responds back quietly, her head resting on Sophie’s chest. 

“Don’t forget me, Soph.” Ryan says softly after a few beats.  

“I won’t remember anything else.” Sophie says.

"Come to warn me away?" she drawls, left eyebrow lifting archly. "If I hurt her you'll make sure I regret it?"

James tucks his hand into his pocket. "It's not Kara I'm worried about."

That takes her by surprise. She doesn't look up, but falls still with her gaze unseeing at the report in front of her.

"Come on," he urges gently, dipping his head towards the privacy of her empty balcony. When she makes no move to rise, he pushes just a little harder. "Let's talk."

"This is not a conversation I want to have with you."

James blinks. A flash of hurt lances through his chest. "Wow."

To his surprise, Lena softens a fraction. "I just mean--"

"Come on," he says again, this time propping the balcony door door with one arm. "Let's talk outside."

The softness hardens back into reproach that stares at him balefully. James receives it unflinchingly, and when he doesn't budge she finally sweeps from her desk and stalks under his arm onto the balcony.

Once the door closes behind them, James takes a moment to tuck his hands into his pockets once more.

"Look, I get it," he starts, shrugging. "I'm not that person for you anymore. I understand. But Lena-- if you don't want to have this conversation with me, you have to have it with Kara."

"James--"

"She's walking on air because she thinks you forgave her, lock stock and barrel. She deserves to know how you really feel so she can try to fix it, and you deserve to have your feelings heard--"

"Oh, please!" Lena scoffs. She pivots sharply away from the rail, pinning him with a glare that tugs her lips into a sneer. "No one was so concerned about my feelings until now, were they? They were more than happy to let Kara continue her charade as long as she wanted, feelings be damned--!"

"You know it wasn't our secret to tell," James says softly.

Lena blinks, and suddenly they're bright with tears. "And YOU--" her voice cracks, and she inhales a shuddering breath. "When you told me Supergirl asked you to break into my vault, you didn't say it was Kara--!"

"It wasn't--"

"I went to her, as a friend, and told her everything! Like a--" Lena breaks off with a damp scoff, eyes pinching closed in shame. "I'm such an idiot."

All James wants to do is fold his arms around Lena and hold her close. To give her a refuge in which to cry, to hide her hurt and grief from the world without having to bottle it up inside.

She turns away from him, straight-backed and rigid against the rail as she turns her face to city nightscape before them. After a moment, James moves to join her at the rail.

"Then I am too," he admits in a low voice. "You know, when I found out Clark was Superman, I-- I was floored, to say the least. It was months after I got the Pulitzer, for the photo I literally took of him, and I just..."

Lena says nothing.

"I was friends with Superman at that point, but Clark-- he was my best friend. I think the hardest thing about finding out was that... it made me realize I wasn't his. And that hurt. Because he was important to me."

From the corner of his eye, he sees the minute slump of Lena's shoulders.

"What I didn't realize until that moment, is that because he's Superman, Clark doesn't have best friends. He has Lois, and that's about it. He cares about people, and he might care more about me more than others, but there's something between him and the world that keeps him from really.... connecting."

When his thoughts turn to Clark's cousin, and the shy, frazzled assistant who'd bumbled into his office his first day, James finds himself smiling. "Kara's different."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't Clark's best friend," he returns simply, "but you are Kara's. And she was terrified of losing you. I haven't seen her so torn up since Myriad, when Winn and I pitched ourselves off the CatCo balcony."

Green eyes flash in surprise.

"Clark stands apart. Always has. But Kara pulls her strength from those around her. Those ties keep her grounded, and she needs them to do what she does. You are a big part of that."

Lena turns away-- it's a little too much for her accept at this point. But she doesn't shut down either. She studies her hands, where her fingers worry each with white-knuckled focus.

"You forgave him?" she asks softly.

James nods. "Yeah. I had to. I didn't have it in me not to. But I'm not sure he would have minded if I never spoke to him again. I mean, I've barely seen him once since I came to National City, so..."

A few years ago, it would have hurt to say it aloud. But now, a country and so many friends later, it's okay. He inhales deeply, letting the cool night air fill his lungs to hide the fact that if he had to choose a distance that hurt more, it'd be the one that separated them here on this balcony.

When he turns to regard Lena, he finds her chin low, her gaze studying her hands, folded together atop the rail.

With one hand he reaches over and gently covers one of hers in his. Her palm turns to meet his, fingers lacing in a familiar, gentle grip.

"It's okay to not be okay," James says quietly. "And it's okay to feel like you need to keep that to yourself. But she can't make it right if you won't let her."

"What if I don't want her to?" Lena asks.

He inhales quietly. "Then that's your call. But don't let her believe it's cool when it's not. It's a discredit to you and to her, and everything you've meant to each other."

Lena scoffs almost imperceptibly, and James tightens his squeeze.

"She loves you, Lena. Your friendship has pulled her through when nothing else could. She relies on you, and your heart, even when you don't agree. Especially when you don't agree."

He only wishes he'd had that with Clark. The quiet night curls around them, unbroken by further words until the air grew chill and Lena finally turns to face him, leaning against the rail.

"I hear you left CatCo," she says, officially ending the Supergirl conversation.

James grins. "Yeah. I did. Turns out not all bosses are created equal. But I'm okay with that. It's time for a change. Been time."

This time, Lena's gaze is softer, almost a smile. "Then I'm glad," she offers quietly. Then a smile does curl her lips, even if her heart isn't quite in it. "You deserve to happy."

James looks over at her, and this time, she meets his gaze with no anger, no mask. Just Lena.