Chapter Text
It's not that Jess doesn't trust people. She does.
It's just that she’s seen a lot, in her time as Lena’s assistant, and- before that- working in as an engineer for LuthorCorp. And before that- well, that’s another story.
But she’s seen enough to dissolve any notions of the “inherent goodness” of humanity.
And so it’s not that she doesn’t trust.
She just expects that trust to be earned.
That wariness has served her well, especially when Lena was once again thrust into the spotlight with her relocation and rebranding of L-Corp. Jess prides herself on being able to read people, to decipher the intentions of the dozens of people vying for Lena’s attention on a given day.
So despite the all-American good looks of Clark Kent and his pastel-clad shadow, Jess senses something off.
But Lena has always been adept at handling the press, and Jess leaves them in her capable hands without much further thought.
//
Not three weeks later, Kara Danvers returns and has the audacity to flit past Jess’s desk and into Lena’s office before Jess can even finish telling her Lena is unavailable. She’d be impressed by the woman’s speed if she weren’t completely outraged by her actions.
But when she goes to apologize to Lena and chew the cub reporter out, Lena does something even more shocking: she gives the woman nearly unrestricted access.
Jess swallows the words she wants to say.
About the dangers of trusting someone Lena has barely just met, let alone a reporter from Catco.
About the feeling in her gut that’s screaming something is off.
About security and how it’s only been a few weeks since Lex’s latest attempt on Lena’s life and they don’t know this woman at all.
She doesn't say those things, because Lena’s the boss.
But she does add Kara Danvers to her shit list.
//
Kara Danvers becomes a regular fixture in Lena’s life.
Interviews become coffee dates, coffee dates become lunches.
Jess does her best to keep the reporter at arm’s length, to stay wary and vigilant.
Someone has to.
Because Lena’s eyes are bright as she asks Jess to schedule a lunch date at Catco, her smile soft and genuine. It’s a smile Jess hasn’t seen since the beginning of Lex’s descent into madness.
And as glad as she is to see Lena’s shoulders unfurl, her practiced professional demeanor relaxing when the reporter is near, Jess can’t shake the feeling the Kara Danvers is hiding something.
Not that people aren’t privy to their own secrets. Everyone has them.
But it’s not just the sense of a secret.
Kara Danvers, despite being one of the most genuinely sunny people Jess has ever encountered, is also one of the worst liars she’s ever seen.
And she lies a lot. About strange, mundane things- like how traffic was, or what she did last night. Everyday, small-talk things that most people answer generically and without thought.
So Jess stays skeptical of the reporter who is earnest and open one moment, and lying to Jess’s face the next.
She stays skeptical so Lena doesn’t have to.
//
As Lena grows closer to Kara, Jess decides to do some research.
It’s easy to justify: her job is to protect Lena from those who would try to take advantage of her time, attention, power, or position. And she’s got the skills to check into some records without making an official inquiry. No one has to know.
So Jess digs.
It’s not hacking so much as… deep research.
But despite her certainty that Kara is hiding something, what she initially finds is completely ordinary. School records, birth record, adoption papers.
Although, the details of the adoption are a bit vague...
A thin layer of secure code peels away to give her access to the social services server.
And that’s when she reads that Kara Danvers lost her parents in a fiery accident at age thirteen. An accident that only she survived.
Jess’s stomach twists as she scans the documents and accompanying photos. The things she had assumed…
She leans back in her chair as she reevaluates everything she knows about the reporter under the lens of traumatic loss.
Someone who lost their parents in a car crash might not be comfortable in cars or vehicles. Might not know how traffic was because they walk everywhere, despite the inconvenience. Might not want to say so and be put in a position to have to explain why.
Someone who barely survived the accident that killed their only family might still be dealing with that trauma, might still have bad nights. Might pause when answering what they did last night because they don’t want to advertise that they’re seeing a therapist.
Someone who went through what Kara did might have fought tooth and nail to live with that grief and trauma without it defining them.
Jess stops digging.
//
Months go by and Jess notices small shifts in Lena.
She begins to make time for meals. Starts to listen to the gentle chiding that she works too late. Actually goes home at a decent hour some nights.
She makes time for herself, for socializing that isn’t just thinly veiled political or corporate maneuvering.
She smiles more.
And despite Jess’s best efforts, a grudging respect begins to build for the catalyst behind those changes.
Kara treats Lena fairly in her articles, not taking the easy negative slant of so many other news outlets.
She defends Lena, consistently taking her side.
She sends Supergirl to save her.
She makes Lena smile.
Lena is extraordinary, her life far from normal. But Kara Danvers survived two years as Cat Grant’s assistant, earning enough of the media mogul’s respect to warrant a promotion to reporter. And she’s formed a close enough relationship with the Girl of Steel- literally the most powerful person on the planet- to garner frequent quotes. She may have even influenced the hero’s stance on things like Lena’s innocence.
And so Jess worries a little less about the growing relationship, about someone as seemingly ordinary as Kara Danvers being able to handle the extraordinary life of Lena Luthor.
Because she’s starting to think that Kara Danvers might not be that ordinary after all.
//
It’s Monday morning and Jess is on the hunt for the printer cartridges she knows she ordered but can’t seem to find. She’s technically supposed to be on break but it’s going to be an insane week and she really just needs to know the printer is working.
She’s rummaging through her fourth supply closet when she finds something… odd.
Her initial reaction to the pile of clothes tucked in the corner is disgust and oh-god-please-don’t-let-me-have-just-walked-in-on-
But she’s the only one there, and it’s just one set of clothes: a soft yellow sweater and navy blue dress pants. They’re actually quite tasteful. And… familiar.
Jess folds the clothes neatly and sets them on an empty shelf.
(So she’s a compulsive straightener. There are worse things to be.)
She looks up and find herself staring right at the package of cartridges she’s been searching for, barely visible at the bottom of a clear bin full of miscellaneous supplies.
Jess digs them out, the mystery of how they ended up there replacing her curiosity about the abandoned clothes.
//
Several weeks later, Kara Danvers steps off the elevator in a very distinctive soft yellow sweater and navy pants.
Jess chokes on her coffee.
She waves off Kara’s concern, gesturing for her to go in while she wipes off her chin and mops up the mess with tissues.
Liquid threat to her computer handled, she stares at the closed doors of Lena’s office.
Kara Danvers left her clothes in the supply closet.
Weird- and surprising- but… why?
She dismisses the idea that the reporter is having a tryst with someone else on the L Corp payroll. Jess has eyes. The only person Kara would be taking her clothes off for is Lena, who has an office and- yeah.
Another possibility- an impossibility- rises in her mind.
Someone else who would need to shed their clothes quickly.
Who would leave them somewhere inconspicuous and come back for them later.
It’s absurd.
But she can’t shake it.
It latches in her mind and becomes all she can see.
Kara Danvers is Supergirl.
///