Alt Assistant Pt 4
There are benefits to Lena not being CEO.
For one, she gets to go home at night. She gets to have a life outside work. She gets to go clubbing.
Which Kara only knows because she's standing at a table during Club Velvet's busiest night of the week, watching her boss bump and grind to the music.
She's not alone either. Kara recognizes Andrea, and for brief moment jealousy sparks low and hot in her belly at the thought they might be together. But when it becomes clear that Andrea is focused on a specific man in particular, Kara accepts that they're just here as friends, just like her and Nia.
Lena, for her part, keeps up a steady rotation of dance partners, men and women alike, all outrageously gorgeous and enviably coordinated. Even from her position off the dance floor, Kara can see the sweat clinging to Lena's neck, and feels the phantom feather touch of Lena's swinging ponytail against her skin.
"Holy SHIT," Nia shouts over the music, still barely audible to Kara, let alone others. "Is that Lena?"
Nia has her memories of the previous reality, and Kara knows she's having difficulty reconciling the cozy Lena she knows with the sultry and enigmatic woman currently leaning back against a stranger's chest as her hips move under his hands.
Kara's mouth goes dry. She wants that. She wants to be that man, wants her hands on Lena's hips, her lips brushing Lena's ear.
"Well??" Nia continues, giving Kara a nudge. "Aren't you going to say hi?"
She thinks about it. She *really* thinks about it. About sliding through the throng to grasp Lena's hand and pull her flush against her front, guiding their hips into a tandem rhythm. About burying her hand in Lena's hair and pulling her in to--
Kara shakes her head. "No."
"What? Why not?"
"She's my boss!"
And if her boss knew that Kara was there, ogling her, there'd be hell to pay. She can hear it now-- don't.
At least Nia drops the issue, seemingly accepting that things are different in this reality, as evidenced by the woman continuing to dance along with the beat of the thumping music. Kara manages to go the entire night without bumping into Lena, even if her gaze returns to the dance floor again and again.
It's only until she goes to close out their tab that Kara knows she's in trouble.
"Your tab's already been paid," the bartender informs her.
The message is clear: Lena knows.
Shit.
Kara stuffs a couple bills into the tip jar and makes her escape, anxiety gnawing at her gut. The next day, Lena makes no mention of having seen her, and seems none the worse for wear after her long night. They work in easy rhythm, as Kara keeps to herself and executes her role perfectly.
Right up until Kara enters Lena's office to let her know she's heading out, and finds Lena gazing out the window. The lights in the office are low, and in the glass reflection Kara sees Lena's eyes shift to her, before languidly turning to face her.
"You liked what you saw," Lena says. Not accusation, but simple fact.
"Yes," Kara returns truthfully. She steps closer, emboldened when Lena doesn't protest.
The corner of Lena's mouth lifts. "I'm surprised you'd admit that, after the little diatribe you levied at me your first month here."
"Like I said," Kara reminds her, moving closer still, "I was an idiot."
The way Lena gazes at her sends a shiver up Kara's spine. Green eyes challenge her silently, as though waiting to see just how far she'll go. A small yet confident smile shapes Kara's lips in spite of herself, calming the butterflies in her belly.
She closes what remains of the distance between them, rewarded with a hitch of Lena's breath as Kara crosses the invisible line into her personal space. They're far too close to be professional now, their locked gazes promising exactly where they're headed.
Finally, Kara places one hand on Lena's waist, and lifts the other to brush the backs of her fingers lightly across Lena's smooth, soft cheek. She lets it come to a rest cupping the side of Lena's face, their noses nearly touching.
"Tell me to leave, and I will," Kara offers, giving Lena an out she prays won't be taken.
Lena's hands are already pulling her closer as her response drifts from her lips.
"Don't."
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