I want to talk to you so badly

Take my hand

When Kara was a child and her family had moved to Midvale, to their beautiful house on a little hill, she found an injured blackbird in their back garden one summer afternoon. The little thing was scared and needed help so Kara tried to catch it to treat the wing that was hanging limply on its side, but the creature was so frightened it kept trashing around until it hid in the corner of the garden under the rose bush, where Kara couldn't reach it. She remembers hiding in her room from her sitter at the time, for the rest of the day, pretending to read a book, because she couldn't explain to the woman what happened, all the while she watched the rose bush from her room window.

The bird did not come out all day.

Her father came home early that evening and Kara sprinted into his arms as soon as she heard the front door open, and burst into sobs into his chest. And her father, always gentle and patient, waited until she'd calmed down enough to explain what happened, or in her case drag him to the rose bush and show him. And then dad smiled his warm smile, that always made her feel so safe and strong, and said, wiping tears off of her face:

"Hurt creatures lose their trust in people, Sunshine. You have to earn it back."

"It'll get hungry soon." he explained to her, helping her to leave some food and water just out of the bird's reach. "All you have to do is show it some kindness and that you mean no harm. And then wait. It'll come to you."

And so she did, as frustrating as it was, she waited, she laughs now at her childish impatience.

"Small steps, Sunshine." dad would say when she would find food gone after the night.

It took few days for the bird to come out in daylight, couple more to do that while Kara was sitting close by and another few days for it to peck out of her hand. But in the end, the patience paid off and her father helped her take the bird to the local vet to be treated.

Lena reminds her of that injured bird, sometimes. There's a caution in her smile, suspicion in her eyes, uncertainty in her motions. Even after they shake hands and agree to forget the picture incident, Lena doesn't seem to relax. She sits straight and doesn't look Kara in the eye for longer then safely appropriate, and she hides behind a witty remark or her sarcasm every time they wander onto something remotely personal.

Small steps, Sunshine.

And so Kara takes it slow. The last thing she wants is to scare the woman away with her childish eagerness. So she tells Lena about her parents, not the full story, but as much as she tells anyone who asks. She tells about M'gann and her work with kids. She tells about her stutter - something she doesn't usually like to talk about. She asks Lena about her college years and tells her about hers in return, how she met Imra and how she befriended Leslie, and how they became an inseparable trio. She asks Lena about her passion for science and tells her how she'd decided to follow in her father's footsteps herself. Lena doesn't share much and the little that she does comes in small titbits like crumbs. And Kara is catching every little bit of it: Lena doesn't like flying, she loves kale and Star Wars, and she loves fast cars (although, having Lexie stopped her from owning one), she likes rock and classical music, and scary movies, and she's apparently good at chess, champion of MIT chess tournament two years in a row (and she's ready to prove it by challenging Kara for a match sometime). Kara drinks every word of it, every smile and every little laugh, every cheeky glint of those greens, every rise of that perfect eyebrow, every bite of that soft lip... God, the woman is just so gorgeous.

Lena.

Kara bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from gushing the name out loud.

By the time their main courses are gone and that bottle of wine too, and they're both nursing calvados and apple juice shots still not sure whether they should have dessert or not, they're a bit looser, Kara's words flowing a little easier. Somehow they manage to fall into this light conversation that doesn't really lead anywhere, just feels like they are circling around in a safe space, shunning something that's there, just beneath the lingering looks and small smiles. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking, just Kara reading too much into it because she would like something to be there, at least the beginning of something, for this relaxed dreamy look on Lena's face to be the cause of her, not the wine or a long day, and that... that red lip between perfect white teeth to be flirtatious, not just a habit. As it is Kara does the thing Kara does best: she smiles and makes sure the person in front of her feels comfortable.