FazedLight
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She kept the 9/11 joke, Ava thought proudly.
It was 14 months to the day that Deborah and Ava had left Paris. And somehow, she found herself in Madison Square Garden again, this time with a booming audience who howled at the jokes she and Deborah had written.
It hadn’t been so hard this time around. Alanna Ubach let them book quickly, unwilling to endure the chaos of last time. And Bob Lipka only needed one phone call from Randi - who had, somehow, become Latitude’s Board president - to promise he wouldn’t buy out the stadium again.
The Little Debbies got first dibs, and general ticketing had sold out within 9 minutes. Deborah did her media publicity circuit, telling news and podcast hosts about powering through cancer, and how she had plenty of energy for the show.
That was all the public knew.
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“Why do you do what you do?” Kara asked, her tone conversational, “Getting the truth out of people?”
Lucifer hummed as they reached the room, watching as Kara turned to him. “It’s rather fun, seeing what people are hiding,” he answered, “Though I suppose you’re fearless?”
Kara shrugged. “Psychic powers don't work on me.”
Oh, Lucifer smirked, you believe this is a parlor trick.
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Lucifer comes to Earth Prime, and asks his usual question: What do you truly desire?
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Her soul wasn’t filled with anger, or blame. Wednesday had never asked her for any of it - for the worry, for the help, for the friendship. Wednesday would’ve happily died buried in that pit, content at the grotesque and hopeless manner of death. There would even have been a flair of the self-sacrifice, a delectably painful reminder that all was truly hopeless when looking evil in the eye.
Wednesday would’ve died and loved it, but Enid couldn’t take that.
Wednesday…
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Kara turned slowly, deflating under the hard eyes of her ex-best-friend. Lena was tense and angry, her finger resting on the trigger, her other hand on a tracking device. My heat signature, Kara thought, Guess she has kryptonite bullets now.
Lena’s eyes narrowed as she reached to her belt, before tossing vibrant green cuffs in Kara’s direction. “Put those on.”
Kara lowered herself to the floor, taking the cuffs, feeling the burn in her hands. She couldn’t really fathom Lena trying to kill her. But after the disruption of Lena’s Myriad plan, and now being held at gunpoint… “Lena, what are - what are you going to do?”
“How do you know my name?” Lena growled.
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A series of ficlets. The above is from ficlet 19.
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Lena knew a few things about Kara Danvers.
She knew the cub reporter had a hankering for pot stickers, a habit of using odd verbal expressions, and an endless amount of faith in Lena despite the Luthor name. She knew that Kara was easily distracted by low cut blouses - a fact that Lena used to her advantage - and that her love of boybands had not faded one iota since her teenage years.
And one fine day, when Kara brought Lena a morning coffee for a quick discussion before work, Lena learned that Kara’s tan-colored pants were vaguely transparent under bright corporate light.
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A wardrobe mishap.