#and her wife (rosie) is the superhero who always tries to stop her

[u3pxx]

can i show you guys an old oc of mine her name is reina (she/he) and he is a retired villain and also he loves her superhero wife a lot

[mysticraven20]

Slight spoilers to season 4

He hadn’t spoken to anyone in quite some time, a lot had happened since they’d defeated Hawkmoth including him leaving Paris to better his life, not that it wasn’t good in Paris, just there was more to the world than what he’d experienced in the city of love.

He’d already spoken to his sister, and her girlfriend, plus the rest of Kitty Section. They were eager for his return, for him to fill them with the knowledge of what he’d learnt during his time away.

Slinging one leg over his motorcycle, he slammed his foot on the pedal and sent the vehicle into motion. Five hours until he reached his destination. Five hours until he was back in Paris.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his body. He’d like to say she fit perfectly, but there was always a slight awkwardness to them being this close. Was it him? Was it her? He never knew.

He was travelling back to the Liberty. He had the money for his own place but at the moment he thought he could be a good son and stay with his mum for a while, after all it had been months since he’d last seen her, and if her messages were anything to go by she wanted to spend some time with him too. She’d had him for sixteen years before his father took him away for five, it was obvious she had withdrawal symptoms from him. He didn’t mind though, he was definitely a momma’s boy.

She couldn’t tell him the truth, yet he thought he knew it anyway. She had something going on which didn’t include him, something that included someone else. Someone with as many secrets as her, someone she was made for.

Only three hours until Paris. He pulled up at a gas station and headed inside. He needed a couple of items before he made it home. His phone rang in his pocket, Juleka.

“Hey sis,”

“Hey yourself, how far out are you?”

“About three hours.” He said, paying for his items and giving the sales assistant a nod. He could tell he was recognised, he was recognised in most places now and in his own right too. No longer was he just Jagged Stone's son, no longer just one of Ladybugs helpers. He was Luka Couffaine, guitarist and composer extraordinaire.

“Great, we’ll see you then. Everyone will be here to welcome you back.”

“I can’t wait.” And he wasn’t lying either, a lot had changed and he was quite sure his friends had changed too. It was going to be nice to meet up with everyone again, especially her.

“Oh, and Luka?”

“Yeah?” He questioned.

“We’ve all missed you.” He smiled down his phone, placing himself back on his mechanical stallion and continued on his way.

He looked at her. The lights reflecting on her hair and in her eyes. She was beautiful and he was sure no one else would ever look this good. Not to him anyway. They hadn’t spoken in so long and it hurt, she was special not just to the world but to him too. Friends? She wanted to remain friends. He would take what he could get, time with her was always better than time without.

He pulled to stop in front of a group of teens. Each smoking and shouting loudly, having the time of their lives. They were surrounded by a carefree aura, no clue to how their lives would be different if it wasn’t for himself and his closest friends. A group of teenage superheroes saving the world. They’d missed out on so much, so much that he needed to leave Paris to get some control of his life back. The last battle was tough, tougher than what any of them ever thought it could be. He was broken from it, not physically, no, the Ladybug’s fixed all that, but mentally he’d be scarred for years to come.

She screamed in agony, each member of their super team not knowing what to do. Luka tried to step forward but he couldn’t, something was holding him back; the intensity of her grief. Rena moved first, then they moved one by one, giving her the power to fix what was broken. To bring him back. Luka knew heartbreak from when he lost her, but losing her was nothing compared to this. She was broken, a crumpled heap of a person curled up next to her partner on the floor, his head in her lap, her voice screaming for his revival.

It was in that moment he understood the intensity of their love, he was a mere speck, a memory, a first romance. He wasn’t hers, and they weren’t meant to be. He’d had his time with her, and he’d treasure every moment. He was her past, the boy lying lifeless on the floor was her present, and future. With a flick of his wrist he called on his power.

“Second chance.”

He’d make sure she’d never feel that broken again.

The lights changed to green and he was on his way again. Following the bright lights of the city of love, twisting and turning down the once frequently visited paths. He’d done this trip millions of times via peddle bike, oh, how different it was to have the wind sweeping through his hair as he moved at ninety miles per hour down the roads on his bike. Freedom. Aging. Growing up.

He pulled up outside a bakery, memories of earlier days flashing through his head. A costume fitting, a delivery, a drop in, a tearful goodbye. It’s all happened here. It needed a plaque …

‘Luka Couffaine lived, laughed and love here’.

The lights changed again, passing his collége before heading down to the river. There she stood in all her glory. ‘The Liberty’.

He parked up his bike noticing the very fancy red Mini Cooper next to a Coral Fiat 500. No doubts in his mind who they belonged to. A very well known Bug and Fox. She had left Paris, moving to New York to further her designing career and get away from the historic occasion, before moving back ‘home’ six months previous. They’d met at the Rockefeller Center two Christmas’ ago, ice skating was their thing, a reminder of their first date. Reminders of what they once were and what they could have been.

He walked on board, placing his helmet under his arm. Greeting his friends as he passed. Friends that had loved, friends that had lost, those who had moved on to greener pastures, and those still trying to figure out what they wanted to do in life. From one friend to another waving greetings between them, his eyes searched. Finally, they set upon <em>her</em>. She was breathtaking. He heard squeals of excitement as she showed her hand to her friends, rosy cheeked and wide eyed.

Luka searched for the guy who made that smile and blush happen, finally finding him in the midst of back slapping from their friends. He looked as thrilled as she did, scratching his neck at the attention he’d drawn to himself. Luka watched as the cat's eyes met the glorious blue of the bugs, both smiling, both overwhelmed.

She turned her head and caught Luka’s eyes. Giving him a little wave, showing the back of her left hand. Luka smiled. Genuinely smiled. For once seeing her didn’t reopen wounds, seeing her no longer stopped his world from spinning, seeing her didn’t hurt anymore, seeing her was … nice.

Suddenly two arms wrapped around his waist and he looked down. The familiar black stone buried in yellow gold winked at him as it sat next to the plain yellow gold band, one that matched that of his own. A smile stretched across his face as he turned to face her.

Paris was no longer his home and his heart no longer beat for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, it hadn’t for a while. He was made for this girl in front of him, his lifeline and his home. For where she was, was where he needed to be too. They were made for each other.

Who Luka’s wife is, is your choice 😉

[coeurdastronaute]

Either/Or: Rosie 5

As much as she knew her mothers would go with her, Rosie couldn’t do it with them. She just couldn’t, and so she got off the bus in an unfamiliar neighborhood after hacking into the police database and doing a little bit more of her own research.

She shouldered her bag and she took a deep breath as she walked down the street, occasionally looking at her phone for directions to the restaurant.

Her movie was almost done, and for some reason, Rosie felt happier than ever with her family. She just couldn’t shake this final thing she had to do, and she was raised to be brave and kind and so she couldn’t do it to her parents. They wanted to be there and hold her hand, and she couldn’t let them be that selfless.

The bell rang as she entered the little coffee shop. It was warm and smelled like bread and coffee and everything sweet. There was a few people throughout, relaxing and meeting, they didn’t do anything to notice her at all.

Rosie scanned the shop, looking for a face she didn’t mean to memorize. She slid into a seat before deciding on an order, and she tried to blend in while also searching.

Just like that, she suddenly existed in a room with the woman who left her on a subway train. Just like that, she suddenly spotted a woman, and waited for the connection to zap into her being, though nothing came at all. Instead, Rosie just sat her bag down on the ground and stared and waited for something to happen.

Eventually, she set up her laptop and camera to work on editing footage. She slid an earbud into one ear and listened with the other to the happening of the tiny world. About an hour into her watching, and still afraid to say anything, her phone buzzed, and she texted her mother that she was at the library.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a voice interrupted her texting back about dinner.

Slowly, Rosie lifted her eyes and followed the apron up to the collar, to a familiar face, to eyes that were very similar to her own. Her mouth went completely dry and her heart turned into that of a hummingbird’s.

“Can I get you anything? You look like you’re working hard. We have coffee and really good cinnamon buns.”

Still, she stared back and cleared her throat.

“No? I also have some donuts and apple twists. Tea, cakes, you name it, we try to make it well.”

Only silence existed as Rosie desperately tried to talk, her brain screaming at her tongue to do something, and it all getting jumbled in her cerebral cortex.

“You look… do I know you from somewhere?” the waitress furrowed and searched the weird, quiet patron’s face.

“Tea is fine. Green tea, if you have it.”

“I’m sure we do,” she smiled sweetly. “Back in a flash.”

As soon as she was back behind the counter, Rosie let out an entire lungs worth of air and felt her hands begin to shake. She hadn’t fully anticipated the telling part. Somehow she had to say things, and she couldn’t even order coffee properly.

Halfway through her belittling of herself, the door dinged again, and a pair of kids ran in with a gentleman following, lugging their colorful school bags and chiding them about being quiet. They were young, in no more than kindergarten and second grade, but they were cute enough, and obviously familiar with the place enough to feel comfortable to climb up on the stools and lean over the railing.

“Hi, babies,” the waitress greeted. “How was school?”

Kids. They were her kids.

Rosie shook her head and felt the blaring signals in her head telling her to bolt, and unlike just a minute ago, she decided to listen to them. Quickly, she shoved her camera in her bag and resigned herself to running scared.

“Sorry about that. The noise will die down. My kids are on the way out,” the waitress explained. “Sorry if they disturbed you.”

The mug of tea slid across the small table, joined by a delicious looking donut on a separate plate.

“Kids?”

“Those are mine,” she nudged over her shoulder. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“No, thank you.” With that, she tossed a few bills on the table, gathered up what was left on the table, and bolted out of the café without looking back.

Rosie couldn’t leave. She left, but she couldn’t leave. So she sat at the bus stop and tried to clear her head, while at the same time, her brain did nothing but cloud it even more.

She had siblings. She had two siblings. She had a brother and a sister. She hadn’t thought of that part, of her… of Amy moving on and having a life. That was blindsiding.

Rosie sat and thought for a good, long while. She wondered if it was smart, she wondered if she could even meet this person. She wondered what to say, until she knew the words. She knew them but couldn’t articulate them. And she gathered a bit of spine and she nodded to herself as the sun went down, and she knew it was for herself. It was better to know. Her moms said as much, and her mother missed her chance, not finding out until it was too late that her birth mother was dead. Rosie didn’t want to risk any freak accidents when she came this close.

The bell dinged once more as she pushed through the door of the café.

Her mother was once the best superhero in the entire world, who lifted trains and stared at dangerous creatures and wasn’t afraid. Her mom took over entire companies and survived terrible things people said about her, and still she was hopeful and alive. Rosie could do this.

“Everything okay?” the same waitress greeted her as she approached the counter.

“Amy Carvallo?”

“I haven’t been called that in about ten years,” she smiled and searched the stranger’s face. “How can I help you?”

“Sixteen years, almost seventeen years, you left a baby on a train.”

Rosie said it very straight and very honest because like her mom said, there was no reason to stray from the facts. The facts were like a lion, able to defend themselves. She watched the stranger’s face go ghostly white.

“You’re…,” she gulped.

“I had a project to do. I was wondering if you would let me ask--”

“You have to go,” she shook her head. “You were… you were a different life. You have to… I can’t.”

It was hard enough to think of saying words to this woman who gave her away, so much so that Rosie never considered what she might say back. It stung more than she would have liked.

“I wanted to ask you--”

“Please. I’m sorry.”

The door rang again and the kids from earlier approached, racing to hug their mother. And all Rosie could do was disappear.

There was a sense, a cosmic understanding, a special way of figuring things out, that Lena just always knew what her daughter was feeling, no matter how hard she tried to find it. Kara attributed it to the fact that Lena was constantly in awe of, and therefore, constantly watching Rosie as a child. But she also believed it was just because their family was meant to be.

“Something’s up with the kid,” Lena muttered as they laid in bed reading.

But it never surprised Kara to hear Lena say such things. Her wife had premonitions often, which she described as an ability to read subtle clues on people she knew well. Kara rolled her eyes and put her book down on her lap.

“She seemed fine today.”

“She was off,” Lena corrected. “Something happened.”

“You’re worrying too much. It’s the video and how it’s coming to an end. There’s only one interview left.”

“Kara, I’m serious. Something is off with Rosie.”

With a heavy sigh, Kara tossed her book on the nightstand and rolled over toward her wife. Lena was the worrier, and she took the job seriously. There wasn’t a day that she wasn’t going out of her mind about something. Often, it was their daughter. Most of the time, it was global warming.

“What do you think is wrong with her?” Kara asked, knowing how to deal with this mood already. She learned how to weather her wife’s moods constantly.

“Obviously it has something to do with finishing her project. Do you think I pushed her too hard? Should we have talked to her about this sooner?”

“I think we wanted to forget. I know I did. I kind of just… I made myself not think about it because it was easier and because I knew that it would hurt her. In some way, it would.”

“She’s quiet,” Lena nodded, staring at the door at the other side of their room. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Just love her, and be there when she needs it. Believe it or not, you raised a pretty independent and resourceful young lady, Ms. Luthor.”

“Don’t call me that,” she smiled despite herself.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Danvers. I just think it’s important to remember that the next Luthor to take over the company will be another Danvers. I’m pretty impressed.”

“She doesn’t want to run LCorp,” Lena disagreed, settling into her wife’s arms despite her distracted brain.

“No kid wants to hang out at their mom’s job. That girl is obsessed with you,” Kara promised, kissing her wife’s cheek and temple, wrapping her arms around her tighter. “And she’s okay. She’s tough.”

“I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m telling you-- something is up.”

“I know, I know,” she soothed. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Do you think she’s on drugs?”

Kara couldn’t help the laugh that came from her chest. It was so sudden, and emerged so completely, that she was almost startled by it. Lena pushed herself up on her elbow and looked at her wife, already disappointed in the reaction.

“I’m sorry, but that’s… no. There’s no way.”

“Do you think it’s a boy?”

“She tells you everything,” Kara shook her head, tugging Lena close again to soothe her worried mind. “There’s no way she has a secret boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Oh honey, that girl is straighter than straight.”

“What is it then?”

“She’s sixteen years old,” Kara shrugged. “That’s a debilitating disease enough. That’s why I kind of just let her exist and don’t read too much into every frown or furrow.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I know, I know,” she lied, cooing against the grump in her arms.

“If you wouldn’t have brought a stupid baby home, none of this would have happened.”

“I know.”

Kara closed her eyes and smiled. In her arms was the girl that changed her entire world, and there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be, even if she was slightly crazy and very unreasonable. But gradually, she felt the CEO relax and give into the warmth and the arms and the lips that murmured and kissed what they could reach.

“Rosie is fine. I’m fine. We’re all okay,” Kara promised.

“I love you,” Lena whispered, tugging Kara’s arm tighter around her own body.

“For someone who didn’t want a kid, you’re kind of a great mom.”

“I learned from you.”

Under the blankets, their legs shifted together. Kara smiled and hid it in her wife’s shoulder, content to have her back to normal for the night, amazed that she was still able to bring her back down from inside her head.

“So… do you want to fool around?” Kara murmured as they stilled.

At first she earned an elbow in the ribs. Just after that was a kiss that took her breath away, and she had her answer. Gratefully, she didn’t have any follow up questions.

“Hey, I’m thinking we try that new Moroccan place tonight,” Kara said as she did something on the other end of the phone. “Rosie is going over to Alex’s to work on the movie, and I haven’t romanced my wife in two weeks.”

“I cooked for you and wore that new Agent Provocateur corset three days ago,” Lena rolled her eyes and signed her name on a few documents as she sat at the small table in the corner of a café and worked the day away. “That wasn’t romantic enough for you, darling?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that was… yeah, plenty romantic,” she recalled, swallowing a lot of other adjectives to describe it, getting awfully sidetracked in her memory of the weekend when their daughter was at a friend’s house and they were alone.

“I hope I’m not so forgettable.”

“I haven’t thought of much else since, if we’re being honest,” Kara snorted. “But I know you’ve been stressed with the merger and your daughter, and I wanted to help you relax. A proper date. I’m courting you, Lena Danvers.”

“We’re married.”

“Courting!”

“I have an errand to run after work, but maybe a late dinner?” Lena compromised, checking her watch quickly. “Say around eight?”

“Eight. I’ll meet you there. I’ll be the one in the hot little red number.”

“Oh?” her interest was piqued. “Red you say?”

“I have a fancy black card too,” Kara reminded her. “And I had a minute to do some shopping. If you’re a good date, you might find out what else I bought.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Kara Danvers?” Lena smiled, blushing still at the idea of her wife. Something about Kara always just earned the same reaction of disbelief and awe.

“Me? Never. I’m simply extending a cordial invitation to dine together.”

“I know what I’m hungry for already.”

“Lena!”

“You’re allowed to make innuendos and I’m not?” she chuckled, stacking her work in a new, neat pile and smiling to herself victoriously. She absently scrolled through some email on her tablet and sipped coffee, knowing full well she got a perfect little blush from her wife.

“I’ll see you at eight.”

“I can’t wait.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Lena was over the moon excited, still feeling the remnants of ancient butterflies floating about because her wife asked her on a date. For a moment, she didn’t dread the rest of her day.

But today was the day. She wouldn’t tell her wife this part, or that she’d left the office almost two hours early, just so she could sit in the small café and watch the woman who gave birth to her daughter.

Frantically, Lena kept looking up from her work at the woman she’d come to memorize. There was a slight tilt to her nose that was almost Rosie’s, though Lena was almost sure it must have been her father. She had those eyes though, and the chin. The curls though, that wasn’t to be seen. It might have been frustration or jealousy, but Lena nitpicked everything until she was just a stranger with no tie to her daughter.

It was stupid, and Lena should have been excited or getting ready for her date. Instead, she was having a hell of a time coming to terms with her life at the moment.

“Hey, can I fill you up?” a voice interrupted her thoughts as she stared at a few more emails.

“Hm? Yes. What? Okay. Sure. Yes,” she managed as she met the eyes of her daughter.

“You look like you’re hard at work,” she smiled. “You visiting town on business?”

“I live here, actually.”

“We don’t get many Mason Street types down here,” the waitress smiled, laughing it away.

Nervously, she smiled awkwardly as Lena stared back with nothing but rapt attention. The gaze was intense, and it took her fidgeting slightly for Lena to blink and clear her throat.

“Thank you.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do,” the waitress furrowed and cocked her head, breaking Lena’s heart. “I recognize you now. You’re Lena Luthor.”

“Danvers,” the CEO corrected. “Been married about twenty years now.”

“Right, sorry,” she smiled, happy with herself. “I just never thought I’d have the most powerful woman in the country or world in my little coffee shop.”

“I do enjoy a good cup of coffee, just like normal people.”

“I didn’t mean… I just… It’s kind of amazing.”

“It is,” Lena nodded, staring back at her expectantly, waiting for her to know, to just understand. But it wasn’t coming, and her stomach burned.

“Well if you need anything else, just let me know--”

“You left a baby on a train sixteen, almost seventeen years ago,” the CEO blurted, unable to stop herself.

The look of horror evident on the waitresses face was the most grotesque thing she’d ever seen, but still, Lena couldn’t back away.

“There’s no-- You-- she--”

Without asking, Amy took a seat and stared, dizzy and dazed at the table, her eyes wide and her mouth kind of sputtering to find something.

“She wants to meet you. I don’t know how to do this, but as her mother, I think--”

“I can’t. I told her I can’t. I’m sorry. That was a different life. I’m a different person. I have a family now, a business. I just--” she looked helplessly at Lena before steadying herself. “She’s not my daughter. I have a life, and kids, and I gave up all of my vices. She is from another person who doesn’t exist anymore.”

“She’s your daughter.”

“She did fine without me. She’s Lena fucking Luthor’s daughter. I’m sorry. I just can’t. I don’t have anything for her, and she doesn’t need anything from me.”

“You don’t even want to--”

“Please. Tell her to stay away from me. You have to understand that it’s for her own good.”

“How?”

“I was an addict. Her father was a good-for-nothing dealer who died in an alley on the low end of the streets where she’s probably never imagined going. I had her and I got clean. I found a life, and I always hoped she had a better one than I could offer. She doesn’t need anything from me.”

“You don’t want to know her?” Lena balked at the idea. Her daughter was the greatest human on the planet. Everyone should want to know her.

“I’m sure she’s spectacular. Hell, I’m sure she’s probably the greatest kid on the planet, which is a miracle considering me and her father, but no. I can’t. I’ve moved on.”

“Have dinner with us, at least.”

“I’m sorry. It’s better if she forgets. Trust me.”

“You’re protecting yourself, not Rosie,” Lena stood, agitated and angry, wishing her own birth mother was alive to hear a rant. “You’re a coward, and I am glad she’s nothing like you.”

“Me too,” Amy whispered, shaking her head, her eyes glassy as she flexed her jaw. She couldn't look at the CEO as she gathered her items and put them in her bag.

Disgusted and angry at mothers in general, Lena dug in her bag and tossed a large wad of bills on the table.

“You get one chance here. If this is what you decide, then you can’t go back on it.”

“I’ve already decided,” she said, not looking up.

With a shake of her head, Lena blinked back tears herself and walked out.

The bench at the bus stop was becoming a home. Nearly every day for the past two weeks, Rosie spent the afternoon watching the woman who gave birth to her move around the café. She watched those kids run in and love her, and for the life of her, Rosie just couldn’t understand any of it.

She also couldn’t understand what her mother was doing leaving the café. And most assuredly, she could not begin to comprehend the flood of emotions on the CEO’s face as their eyes locked across the street.

Both simple stared at each other, unsure of what to do or what could even matter. They knew they couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, and yet they both desperately hoped for that with their entire beings. Lena immediately tried to compose herself, wiping her cheek and setting her jaw before walking across the street, barely giving a glance in either direction.

“Going with Aunt Alex to the DEO to work on the movie,” Lena repeated as she sat down beside her daughter on the bench. “That was what you said this morning.”

“I was there for a minute, so I didn’t technically lie,” Rosie offered before earning an exasperated look from her mother. “I’m sorry.”

Fiddling with her fingers, Rosie sighed heavily, afraid to look up at the coffee shop again, afraid to look at her mom, afraid to really move, if she was being honest. Instead, she just sat there and knit her hands together.

“I told Kara that something was going on with you. I’m guessing this isn’t your first visit?”

Guilty, Rosie shook her head. She flexed her jaw, and the wavy kind of curls fell in her face before she gathered them in an antsy hand and pushed them around atop her head, creating a bigger mess. It was Kara’s quirk that she’d picked up somewhere along the past sixteen years. It broke Lena’s heart slightly.

“I don’t think I’ve handled it very well,” Lena finally sighed, fiddling with the ring on her finger as she did when she was anxious. “I’m sorry for that. You’re hiding things to protect me, and that should never be something you feel you have to do.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t know how.”

“As hard as it is, just you… yous ay the words, honey. I won’t ever hate you or be hurt.”

“I thought this would be easier,” Rosie ran her hands over her face and leaned forward, huddling into herself slightly.

Lena put her hand on her daughter’s back and rubbed there until she leaned back and rested against her shoulder.

“It’s not fair. It feels like everything is different now, and I can’t get it back to how it was.”

“Nothing has changed,” Lena promised, kissing her forehead and resting her cheek against her daughter’s messy hair. “We’re still a family. You’re a Danvers, just like me. You’ve always been your own person, and not one thing that has happened changed your character, and it certainly hasn’t changed our family.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“She didn’t want to even talk to me. I didn’t know what to ask. I have… she has… a son and a daughter.”

“As hard as it is, you have to respect her wishes. I can’t understand not wanting to know you,” the mother smiled. “But I can certainly understand leaving the past there. I was a different person when I met Kara. I was different when my father was around and going crazy. We grow and change, and sometimes people only survive by completely shutting it out.”

“Yeah.”

“No more lying, okay?”

“Did you tell Mom you were here?” Rosie challenged, peaking her eyebrow like her mother, which was annoying and endearing all at once to Lena.

“Tomorrow. No more lying tomorrow.” Her daughter shook her head and settled back on her mother’s shoulder. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too.”

“Did you eat?”

“Not yet. I really do have to go see Aunt Alex.”

“I’ll drop you off on the way. Let me call Cal to get us.”

“Could we stop for Thai?”

“We can grab you and Alex and J’onn some, but I have a date tonight.”

“Do I know her?” Rosie joked, earning a laugh and roll of her mother’s eyes. “It’s a school night. I need you home by ten.”

“This afternoon might not be the time to press your luck.”

“But I’m so cute and charming.”

“God you’re just like your mother.”

From the café, Amy watched the most powerful woman on the planet kiss her daughter’s temple and laugh at something she must have said, each taking a kind of comfort in the embrace, and for the briefest of moments, she reconsidered before shaking her head and deciding to leave it be in the past, as much as it hurt all over again.

“Are you nervous?” Kara asked, lulling her head to the side as she looked at her wife.

“Actually, I’m not,” Lena smiled, and it was the truth. She squeezed her wife’s hand and lifted it to kiss the back of it. “She worked hard on it, and I think my nerves were just me being afraid and wanting to protect her. But man, our kid is so smart and strong and good.”

“She really is. But I did overhear her talking to Maddie about a boy at school.”

“I trust her, but perhaps another sex talk.”

“It’s your turn this time.”

“But you do so well, honey,” Lena promised, watching her wife wane. “I’d just muck it up.”

“It’s your turn,” Kara disagreed.

“Fine.”

The car wove along the busy streets back toward their home that they’d been dismissed from by their daughter to set up for the first screening of her only movie. An impromptu date was always welcomed though.

“Do you want to fog up the windows a bit?” Kara asked, a small grin dripping from her lips. She wiggled her eyebrows to add to it, earning a laugh.

“Hmm,” Lena debated, looking out the windows to estimate how long until home. “You’ve got about seven minutes, Supergirl. Make it worth my while?”

Kara didn’t even respond, just kissed her wife quickly.

“Are you nervous?” Connor asked as his cousin paced around the kitchen, looking for nothing in particular. Rosie’s cousin snagged a carrot from the platter and crunched it. “You look nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not,” she snapped before leaning against the counter. “I lied to them again.”

“How am I the one who gets grounded more than you? I wish I had two moms instead of Superman and the best reporter of all time.”

“Second best,” the younger cousin retorted with a smirk.

“We’re not having this debate again.”

Rosie crossed her arms and debated what to say, but there wasn’t much point in sugarcoating anything with Connor. He understood what it felt like to live up to unfathomable love and self-imposed expectations. Both of their parents, both sets of world-saving philanthropists, they never expected anything other than joy and happiness from their kids, and yet both Connor and Rosie held themselves to high, invisible standards.

“How do you feel, after it all?” he asked, eyeing his cousin.

There was a familial soft spot for her, even though she was younger. He remembered when they got in trouble together for the first time, when he took her flying, and her their mothers about lost their collective minds. She was the only person he could commiserate with to some degree, and one of the few people who he could be Superboy around.

But the past few months, he saw her change slightly, grow nervous, grow upset about the entire situation. Everyone around him had different parents or were adopted, and he remembered how lucky he was to have his.

“I always knew it was an option that she might not want to know me, but I never expected it. I think I understand though. I feel bad for hurting my moms though.”

“I don’t think you could hurt them,” he promised, crunching on more snacks.

“I did,” she sighed. “Not because of asking questions. I think I just-- I got really confused.”

“Happens to the best of us. Shall we go watch?”

“If we must.”

The living room was completely converted to a theater, and it was spectacular. Naturally, the daughter of Lena Luthor had a knack for the dramatic. But still, Lena smiled and took her seat beside her wife while he daughter and some friends camped on the floor.

Aunts, uncles, friends and family all crowded together, ready for the documentary.

“I’m so excited,” Kara buzzed, putting her arm around her wife’s shoulders as she leaned against her.

“Please tell me you made my interview look better than it was,” Lena ribbed her daughter.

“Okay, okay, everyone get ready,” Rosie ignored her mother and pressed play. “Here we go.”

The first images were pictures from their life together, flipping through the photo album that Kara so diligently kept. Rosie explained the story, showed the newspaper clipping about the Subway Baby and how she got her name, earning a chuckle from the audience.

The interviews started, and Lena smiled as her wife talked about their first meeting, and then about their life together. She grinned as there was them going through the shoebox of their memories. She sighed contentedly when she saw footage she didn’t know her daughter had of her wife and her, still very much in love. Sometimes she forgot just how much they were in love, and then she was confronted with it.

When her interview started to show, she hid in her wife’s shoulder, who just squeezed her and chuckled at the image and mumbled words. Despite the attitude that Lena Luthor always carried, there was so much Danvers appearing on screen that it was endearing.

Kara blushed at the things her wife remembered and said. It was impossible not to enjoy it too much. Lena was always kind and doting, but hearing her talk, one might realize just how romantic she was.

The movie was an ode to family, formed and tested and loyal.

“This is spectacular,” Lena whispered, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s neck as she leaned forward and found her on the floor, kissing her cheek. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

It was only about a half hour long, but as the end grew nearer, Rosie grew a little more uncomfortable. She heard her mother shift slightly behind her, the hero realizing the café appearing meant something. It took Lena a second to realize what was happening.

But she couldn’t stop watching, and as Amy’s face appeared, she steadied herself.

Everyone shifted forward slightly, eager to watch the interview that no one knew happened. Rosie refused to turn around as the woman who bore her shared a single picture of her father, and told her about her life. Instead, she just stared and felt relieved to be done with it all.

The movie concluded with the fact that she didn’t have a relationship with the woman who gave her away. It concluded with home videos of their family and plans for the future. It concluded with everyone answering the final questions Rosie asked in every interview: What do you hope for in the future?

To their credit, most people actually thought about it, considering some answers. Some answered quickly, easily, putting forth the first idea in their head.

“That your Mom will let us get another dog,” Kara said in her interview.

“To go to the same college my dad went to,” Connor smiled.

“To finish healing,” Amy decided, after thinking about it for a moment.

“That things stay kind of the same,” Lena whispered before looking at the camera. “I have everything I could ever want in this exact moment. I don’t need anything else.”

The End

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene Part 4/? - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/? - Breathless Part 6/? - Escape at Last Part 7/? - Fox in Socks Part 8/? - Things Go Wrong Part 9/? - Downey and Out Part 10/? - Road Trip

Off to Canada to look for Loki!

They’d only gone a few yards up the road.  Nat stopped and backed up.  Steve was worried Downey would try to run, but instead he came to meet them.  Nat opened the door for him.

“Have you come to your senses?” he asked.

Natasha extended a hand.  Downey took it and climbed in, and as soon as he shut the door, Nat pressed the button to lock all four.  While their newly-acquired prisoner was still reacting to that, she snatched his phone and tossed it to Steve – then she hit the gas, heading east again.

“Hey!” Downey protested.  “Now what are you doing?”

“We can’t let you call the police,” Nat explained calmly.

“I wasn’t calling the police!  I was texting Susan!”

Steve checked the phone in his hands.  The open app was indeed a text conversation with ‘Susan’, most of which seemed to consist of sweet nothings and heart-eyed cat emojis.  At the very bottom, Downey had begun to type a new message: ChrisE and ScarJo stole the van.  I’m gonna…

“It does say Susan,” he confirmed.

“Who is Susan?” Nat asked.

“You know Susan,” Downey protested.  “She’s my wife!”

“Is she Pepper?” asked Steve.  “I mean, is she the actress who plays Pepper?”  That seemed a natural conclusion to come to. He couldn’t imagine Stark marrying anyone but Pepper Potts regardless of what universe it happened in.

“What?  No. Gwyneth Paltrow is Pepper,” said Downey.

They passed Pepperdine University, where the road divided in two.  To get to Los Angeles, they would have had to take the right fork and continue down the coast.  Nat took the left one, heading inland to the mountains.

“Uh… where do you think you’re going?” asked Downey.

“Canada, of course,” said Natasha.  “You said that’s where Loki is.”

Downey’s phone rang.  “That’ll be her,” he said.

Sure enough, when Steve checked the phone identified the caller as ‘Susan’.  He connected the call and said, “hello?”

“Hello?” asked the voice that must be Mrs. Downey. “Is this Chris?”

“Yes,” Steve said.  “Yes, this is Chris.”  He hoped it sounded convincing to her.

It must have, because she didn’t question it. “Is Bob bringing you back to our place?”

“No, he’s not,” said Steve.

Downey turned in his seat to reach back.  “Let me talk to her!” he said.  “Susan!  Can you hear me?”

“Tell Bob not to talk on the phone while he’s driving,” said Susan.

“She says…” Steve began.

“I’m not driving!”  Downey held out a hand.  “Please?” he asked.  “Please?”  His eyes were huge and pleading.  It was an expression Steve had seen on Stark, but only when he was talking to either Pepper or Colonel Rhodes.  “I won’t tell her,” he whispered, “I promise.  Just please.”  His voice rose to a more normal level.  “Let me talk to her.”

He looked like a puppy who wanted a hug. Somewhat against his better judgment, Steve gave him the phone.

“Susan!” Downey said, putting it to his ear.  “I’m so glad you called.”

Nat caught Steve’s eye in the mirror and glared at him.  The message was clear that if this went horribly wrong too, she was holding him responsible.

“Just listen, honey,” said Downey, holding the phone to his right ear and leaning away from Natasha, as if afraid she would grab it from him again at any moment.  “Chris and Scarlett have sort of kidnapped me.”

He was silent for a moment while his wife said something.

“Well, they’re not actually going to hurt me, and they don’t need to ransom me off, so yeah, only sort of,” Downey said.  “I think they’re planning to plead insanity so they’re trying to convince me they’ve lost their minds.  It’s actually working pretty well so far.”

Steve undid his seat belt and tensed his legs, prepared to stand up and snatch the phone back if he had to.  Downey glanced back at him, and held up a hand to tell him to stop.

“No, don’t call anybody,” he told Susan.  “It’ll all work itself out – they say they’re going to Canada but that won’t work, so I’ll see what they’re up to and probably be home in a few hours.  Tell the kids Dad had some Iron Man stuff to do or something.  Okay.  I love you. Sleep tight.”  He disconnected and handed the phone back to Steve.  “There.  That’s all I wanted – so she wouldn’t worry about me.”

Steve was startled.  Even knowing that this wasn’t Stark – and that was getting clearer and clearer with every word out of the man’s mouth – telling his wife not to call the police because ‘Chris and Scarlett’ wouldn’t hurt him was an awfully trusting thing for Downey to do.  Now that he’d expressed that trust, furthermore, Steve would find it awfully hard to betray… maybe Downey knew that.  Or maybe, as the guy who’d played Tony Stark, he should have known better.

“All right.”  Downey folded his arms across his chest.  “Whatever this is, whether it’s a publicity stunt or a practical joke or the aliens from Galaxy Quest, I’ll ride along as far as it goes and see what happens.  I don’t think you’ll get in to Canada, though.”

For a moment Steve wasn’t sure what he was talking about – Canada was not exactly an impenetrable fortress of a country. Then he remembered, “the terms of our bail were don’t leave California, weren’t they?”  Not allowed into the United States in one reality, not allowed out in the next.  Everybody loved placing restrictions on him.

“You really think that’ll be a problem?” asked Nat with a bit of a smile.

“Probably not,” said Steve.

They crossed the border into Nevada with no trouble, which definitely surprised Downey, and passed through Vegas before heading on into Utah.  Steve dozed in the back seat until Nat woke him up near the border of Idaho and told him to take a turn driving.  She was yawning as she crawled into the back to curl up, and Steve realized he couldn’t remember ever seeing her sleepy before.  Natasha was like him – she could sleep anywhere and wake up alert and ready to go for as long as she needed to.  She got tired, but not sleepy.  It seemed like she, too, was feeling the effects of being… well, a little more human than usua.

Downey paid for gas and snacks, and they got back on the road.

Shortly after they’d entered Montana, with the sun coming up and Natasha still snoring in the back seat, Downey asked, “were you two already in some kind of trouble?  Is that what this is?”  He was worried again now.  “And now you’re trying to get out of the country?”

“We told you what happened,” said Steve.

Downey scowled again.  “You can’t ask me to believe you really think that.”

“Why would we tell you something like that if it wasn’t true?” Steve tried.

“Hell if I know,” Downey said.  “Maybe you’ve been reading too many internet posts with that joke about how Marvel grow their characters in tubes of blue goo like something out of Avatar.”

Steve turned to look at him with a concerned frown. “Do people actually believe that?” he asked.  Maybe that was how this universe really worked. Maybe Chris Evans looked exactly like Steve because he was… who knew?  A clone, perhaps.  Or something worse.

“There are people who believe JonBenet’s parents faked her death and she grew up to be Katy Perry,” said Downey, “so yeah, there probably are, but that doesn’t mean it’s true.  You understand that, right?”  He sounded like he wasn’t sure Steve did.  “You’re not anybody’s science experiment.  You have parents who are probably wondering what the hell you’re doing right now.”

Parents. Steve hadn’t thought about that, but it was true – this Chris Evans must have a mother and father.  If they were still alive and they met Steve, they would probably think he was their son.  Would Mrs. Evans drape a blanket around his shoulders and make him a cup of tea, the way his own mother used to?  Would her husband smile at Steve and tell him he was proud of him, the way Steve had always wished his father would?

Their numbers were probably in Evan’s phone, which suddenly felt very heavy in Steve’s pocket.  He could call them and find out.

Rather than do so, however, Steve pulled the phone out of his pocket and reached back to drop it on the floor in the back, where it would be difficult for him to retrieve.  The idea, however, lingered, like electricity crackling on the back of his neck.  Suddenly Steve understood, on a very visceral level, just why Natasha had insisted on going to Johansson’s house.  Having even the illusion of something you wanted so very badly, dangling in front of you like that, was the stuff of parables. It was so easy to tell himself that it would do no harm to just call – but then, Nat had probably thought it would do no harm to just read Rosie a story, to just pretend for five minutes, and he’d seen what had happened then. No, he could not call Evans’ parents. Definitely not.

“Evans has parents,” said Steve.  “Mine died a long time ago.”

Downey groaned and rubbed his forehead.  “You’re getting really close to convincing me, and you don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“Because if I believe that you believe you’re actually Captain America, I’m gonna have to have you committed,” Downey said.

It was almost exactly twenty-four hours since Downey had bailed them out of jail when Natasha, back in the driver’s seat, pulled to a stop in the parking lot at Calgary International Airport.  Downey had nodded off, himself, and had missed seeing how Nat got them into Canada.  This was probably all for the best – as she’d predicted, it hadn’t been a problem.  At the airport they got a cheap motel room where they could all shower and change their clothes, and then they went to the arrivals gate to meet Thor’s flight from Australia.

They all looked slightly ridiculous and not very superheroic, dressed as they were in whatever souvenir clothes the shops in the airport had been offering for sale.  Thor walked in wearing camo-print shorts, a white t-shirt, a pair of ray-bans, and wheeling a little hard-sided suitcase with Hello Kitty on it, but the effect was the same as it had been when he’d tried dressing down in Oslo.  No matter what he was wearing, he still walked and talked like the God of Thunder.

“Friends!” Thor said, and gathered Steve, Natasha, and Downey all up in one hug.  Chris Hemsworth was not as immense as the real Thor, but he was still a very large man with bulging arms that could encompass all three of them.  “It delights my heart to see familiar faces!”

“Good to see you, too, Thor,” Steve managed, with what little air the demigod’s hug left him.

“That includes you, Robert Downey Junior!” Thor added, stepping back to take a look at the unwilling third member of their party. “I have entertained myself on the flight by reading about our counterparts’ lives and work.  Your recovery from your lowest point was truly heroic, as is your dedication to make sure others do not suffer as you did!”

“Thanks,” said Downey, a little dazed.  “That’s how I got into this, as a matter of fact.”  He gave Steve and Nat a sidelong look.

“I am famished after my journey,” Thor said, “but the young gentleman seated next to me told me of a man named Tim Horton who makes the finest dough-nuts in Midgard.  I would like to taste them, and then perhaps we can learn more of this convention Loki is to be appearing at.”

The airport was offering a number of brochures for things to do in the city, which included an ad for the Calgary Comic and Entertainment Expo, beginning that day at the Roundup Centre convention hall.  While Thor tried several flavours of Tim Horton’s donuts, Steve slipped through the guest list.

“Here he is!” he said.  “Tom Hiddleston, of Marvel’s Thor and Kong: Skull Island!”  Then he looked at the picture, and did a double-take at the sight of the smiling blond man in glasses.  “It doesn’t even look like him.”

Natasha leaned to look.  “No, he’s got the nose,” she said.

“I would not take him for my brother, nose or no,” Thor said.  “It has been a long time since I saw Loki smile so warmly.”

“Do we have to worry about running into anybody else we know?” Natasha asked.  “Or think we know?”

Downey was sitting next to Steve, eating a grilled bacon and cheese sandwich.  He jabbed his finger at a picture of a woman with long, straight dark hair, identified by the caption as Jennifer Connelly, of Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.  “We might see Paul,” he said, “but I doubt any of you would recognize him.”

“Who’s Paul?” asked Nat.

“Never mind,” said Downey.  “Actually, if we do meet him, I want to see if you can figure it out for yourselves.”

Steve wondered if that meant he believed them now. More likely he was just seeing how far they’d take the joke.  Steve turned the page to look at the rest of the guests, and saw pictures that promised actors from Westworld and Once Upon a Time.  Then he turned another page, and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Meet the cast of Marvel’s Agent Carter.