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Kara Danvers and the Brown Belt of Lesbianism

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Navy blue button-up. Tight, burgandy pants. Wing-tip oxfords. Brown belt. That goddamn brown belt.

How does Kara get away with dressing like that in the workplace? How does anyone get any work done around here with Kara dressed like that?

It should be illegal, Lena thinks. Il-le-gal.

Lena owns Catco, she suddenly remembers. She’s the boss now. It’s perfectly within her powers to make it illegal!

Lena is halfway through dialing Eve’s extension to get her to dial HR and draft up a new Kara Danvers specific wardrobe policy, one that explicitly prohibits: button-up shirts (especially with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows), those pants that make Kara’s ass look like it could repel bullets, anything that leaves Kara’s arms exposed, and for the love of all that is good and holy, absolutely no brown belts—better yet, maybe HR should look into designing a uniform for Kara Danvers; Lena thinks a burlap sack would do nicely. One with sleeves. And a mask wouldn’t go amiss too, just something to cover that distracting face—when Kara Danvers and her brown belt walk in.

Lena clears her throat, shuffling some random papers on her desk to make it look like she was doing something important.

She has a desk now. And an office.

As much as Liam from IT and his collection of Star Wars figurines (which Lena played with when he wasn’t looking) loved having her as a desk buddy, Lena needs her own space. Mostly to scream into a trash can in private whenever Kara walks by in whatever gay-ass-but-I’m-totally-not-gay outfit she’s decided to wear that day.

“Kara!” she says brightly. “So good to see you” and your belt “at this place where we both work.”

Kara smiles, a little bemusedly, and fiddles with the arm of her glasses (another thing that should be illegal). She steps forward and places something on Lena’s desk. It’s a cactus.

“What’s this?” Lena asks. “Another Danvers family tradition?”

She thinks about the planner Kara gave her on her first day at CatCo. It is currently on her bedside table, filled with all of her gay thoughts about Kara. She has to put them somewhere, to avoid causing a scene at work.

Kara laughs sweetly and shakes her head. “No, not this time. It’s to celebrate the first issue of CatCo since you took over. And also to thank you, for being so understanding, both as a boss and a friend. I really appreciate your support, through everything. I know I didn’t make the best first impression, but I’m trying. I want to be better, for you.”

“Ooh, Kara, it’s nothing, just doing what any boss would do for their employee,” Lena laughs, waving her hand furiously.

Kara smirks, cocking her head to the side as she leans over onto the desk, supporting herself on her palms. “Oh, come on Lena. You know it’s more than just that.”

Lena swallows, her eyes disobediently tracking down to where Kara’s belt buckle has caught the lip of her desk. She swallows at the lump of desire in her throat. This isn’t fair.

“Fine,” she concedes, eyes snapping up to meet Kara’s. “For their favourite employee.”

Kara grins victoriously, and mercifully straightens back up. “So, what are you going to name him? The cactus, I mean.”

The word “Daddy,” slips out before Lena can stop herself and oh God now she has to do some serious damage control. “Uhhh the cactus reminds me of Lionel! He was, um...prickly.”

Kara hooks her thumbs on her belt as she rocks back onto her heels and laughs. “Interesting choice, but okay! I’ve got to run, plenty of reporting to do, but I’ll see you later, Lena. Bye Daddy!” she tosses over her shoulder, leaving Lena gripping the edge of her seat, legs pressed firmly together, and glaring at the innocuous cactus.

Kill me now.


“Oh come on, Alexandria—can I call you Alexandria?”

“I’d rather you didn’t—”

“Great, so Alexandria—”

“That’s not even my name—”

“You can’t seriously tell me that your sister dresses like, like that and she doesn’t even bat a little for our team? Not even as like, a second-stringer? Reserve? B-roll? I don’t understand sports but you get what I’m asking, right fellow lesbian?”

Kara was supposed to join them for drinks, but something “important and immediate” came up and Lena had never hung out with Alex sans Kara before so she’d knocked back a few glasses of wine more quickly than usual so she wouldn’t feel so awkward and oops where did that bottle of Pinot go and oops there go all of her gay feelings.

Alex blinks back at Lena, takes a long, deliberate sip of her beer. She sets the beer back down and folds her hands in front of her.

“It’s the belt isn’t it?” Alex finally asks.

Yes,” Lena exclaims, emphatically. “You see it too, don’t you?”

Alex shrugs, and the red flush at the back of her neck indicates she is uncomfortable. “Kara grew up different, before we adopted her. For her, being gay or anything that isn’t straight might not be a big deal to her—it might not mean anything at all.”

Lena sighs, and falls a little more in love.

“Maybe you should just ask her,” Alex suggests.

Lena snorts, lips raspberrying as she laughs and slaps the table. “Good one, Alex. But, you see, that would involve telling her I’m in love with her.”

Alex quirks an eyebrow, giving Lena a look that makes her eyes go wide and thunk her head down onto the table.

“I’m doomed,” she groans.

“Oh, Lena,” Alex says, with sympathy (or is it pity?) in her voice. She waves down a server, mouths for more wine, and pats Lena’s hand.

Lena lifts her head up, cheek smooshed against the back of her hand, and blows some hair out of her face.

“It’s really bad, Alex. I can’t get any work done at this rate, I’m barely functional!”

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that could happen?” Alex asks innocently, like Lena hasn’t gone over this scenario a thousand times.

“She could reject me, call me an unlovable loser, I’d ruin our friendship and then Supergirl would literally be my only friend!”

Alex laughs, nervously and high pitched, and takes a long swig of her beer before refilling it from her jug.

“No,” Lena insists, “telling Kara is not an option. I have to bury my feelings. Kara can never know.” She cuts a dangerous glare at Alex, who holds a hand over her heart in solemn promise not to tell. Lena sighs glumly, and drains the rest of her wine glass.

Images of Kara flash before her mind: Kara adjusting her belt sitting snugly on her hips, that time Kara wore a belt with a dress and it was equally devastating to Lena’s pure thoughts, Kara wearing a belt with pants that didn’t even have belt loops now that was just unnecessary.

“It’s the belts,” she mutters darkly, eyes narrowing. “They’re my weakness, my nemesis, my, my Kryptonite!” she looks up at Alex, determination in her eyes. “I know what we have to do.”


Lena doesn’t give Alex much of a choice in her involvement in her plan, and after leaving way too much money on the table and rolling into a cab, Alex is fumbling with her keys to Kara’s apartment.

They stumble inside, knocking over books and chairs and piles of clothes in the process, but Lena is a woman possessed, and she heads straight for Kara’s closet.

She flings it open. There are the usual suspects: a rainbow of button-downs, pastel sweaters, and cardigans; and then there are a few dresses, an extremely accurate Supergirl cosplay, and a collection of shoes lining the floor that sets Lena’s gaydar right off.

Lena looks past all of these, eyes zeroing on Kara’s collection of belts. There are a lot of them.

“How many belts does one woman need?” Lena asks furiously as she grabs them off the rack and stuffs them into her bag like unruly pythons. There are seventeen of them: one in every shade of brown, it seems.

She whips around to look at a mildly horrified Alex, a manic, triumphant look gleaming in her eyes,

“There! Now I can continue to repress my feelings, like any good, self-respecting gay.”


Come Monday, Lena sits happily at her desk, content in the knowledge that no brown belts are going to come walking through the door to ruin her day. Nope! Thanks to her genius, she is free.

Finally. Finally she can have one work day safe from those treacherous snakes, wrapped so sensually and snugly around Kara’s waist; a waist that is flanked by the most splendid legs Lena has ever seen, and extends up to a torso and arms carved by the gods, connected to a tantalising neck and jaw one-two punch, then those eyes and those lips that house that smile and Kara Danvers believes in Lena when no one else does, sees the good in her, makes her feel worthy of believing in herself, and Lena is so hopelessly in love with her but it’s all going to be fine because no brown belts!!!

“Morning, boss!” Kara pokes her head in through Lena’s glass door before she comes strolling in.

Lena looks up, smirking internally at the gay panic attack she is most certainly not about to experience and—



“What are those?” Lena questions furiously, pointing at Kara’s person in hysterical accusation.

“Huh?” Kara blinks down at herself. “Oh, these? They’re suspenders!” Kara grins, snapping the elastics against her chest, and Lena pretty much explodes on the spot. “It’s the strangest thing,” Kara continues, oblivious to the human puddle of primal want Lena has become in front of her, “I think someone broke into my apartment on the weekend. Nothing was missing, except for all of my belts! But I’ve got to keep my pants up somehow, right? Oh, hello.”

While Kara was speaking, Lena had gotten up and rounded her desk to stand right in front of her, eyes narrowed and locked in on hers.

“God damn you, Kara Danvers,” she growls. She grabs Kara by her stupid sexy suspenders and yanks her into a crushing kiss.

Kara’s eyes fly wide for only a second, and then she is kissing back, arms snaking around Lena’s waist and pressing into her, lifting her off her toes slightly with those arms that have been the subject of many a late-night fantasy for Lena.

Lena’s fingers twist into Kara’s hair and oh, my tongue is in Kara’s mouth and OH! Kara’s tongue is in my mouth and she makes a noise that isn’t human but that’s okay because Kara is making some pretty lewd noises right back as she grabs Lena by the ass and sits her up on her desk.

It is, quite frankly, obscene, and Lena’s walls are entirely made of glass so of course the entire office sees and Eve is busy running around slapping CatCo employee’s phones out their hands as they try and snag some juicy content for their Snapchat stories.

Lena’s pupils are blown when they separate, chest flushed and heaving as Kara keeps her wrapped up in her arms.

“Oh, Rao,” Kara gasps, breathless. When she looks up at Lena she is smirking (goddamn her), like the little shit she is. “Looks like I don’t need the belts after all.”

Lena reaches back and opens the top drawer of her desk. It is full to bursting with Kara's brown belts.

“Don’t worry, darling. I can think of more than a few applications for these. None of them involve pants.”