Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, don't hate me.

Did I split this? Yeah!

Does it serve a purpose? Perhaps!

When will the next chapter come out? Sooner than you expect!

Was season 5 absolute trash? Correct!

Would it be awesome if you follow me on Twitter? Of course!

I'm on the bird app as SparksWrites.

I don't have a or anything like that but if you like what I write, check my band. Yes, I have a band. We make weird synth pop music – chlorinedreamsm (that's our Twitter and Insta).

Seriously though, let me know what you think is about to happen... ;-)

The music in the club was loud, obscenely loud.

Lena knew why. It's not like the crowd came searching for a chat. Using their mouths for talking was not their priority, though some of them would have to indulge in dull conversation to get what they wanted.

Luckily for Lena, she could jump the boring steps of the process and just… choose. Also, the music reached her subdued by the crystal gallery in her VIP lounge, the biggest in the whole club and the best view above the dance floor and the bar. She could activate the state-of-the-art speakers installed in the room if she wanted, but she didn't need to pretend she was here for a drink and a dance and a few good laughs like all the women below her. She could pick, point, and have who she wanted.

Because everybody wanted her, one way or another. They all would stare up at her, at some point in the night. Some looks were lustful. Some were envious, hateful even. Most of them were filled with curiosity mixed up with all of the above. She could choose, yes, probably anyone she wanted, even the ones that despised her could be a great hate fuck.

And yet, two months coming here, spending a few hours of her Saturday night, and still, she hadn't done it. She hadn't chosen anyone at all.

She was about to ask her personal bartender for a second alcohol-free mocktail when Veronica Sinclair appeared unannounced. She had the nerve of taking her hand and kissing it as she whispered something.

"Tu es magnifique ce soir, ma chérie Lena."

Lena scoffed and jerked her hand away from her, answering in flawless French.

"Va te faire foutre, Roulette."

Veronica smirked when she heard the Luthor calling her by her alias, very pleased with the visceral reaction of telling her to fuck off. She joined her in the expensive leather couch, sitting at a cautious distance from her. The shady entrepreneur crossed her legs, and Lena admitted to herself that Veronica was quite stunning in her green emerald dress that showed her tattoos and left little to the imagination. Lena looked better in her dark blue off-the-shoulder Gucci, of course, but she couldn't deny Veronica's sense of fashion.

"So, tell me, my friend…" Veronica's smirk wasn't going away, much to Lena's disdain, "what the fuck are you doing?"

Lena raised her signature brow and pursed her lips. She was never very good at playing dumb, but she tried anyway.

"What do you mean?"

Roulette sighed and gestured to one of her people, who moved immediately to prepare drinks in the lounge's private bar.

"I promised myself I'd behave but – let's say my curiosity has gotten the best of me."

The CEO nodded knowingly and shook her head gently.

"Part of the deal was you asking no questions," Lena emphasized as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I know. But where's the fun in that?"

Roulette had the nerve of winking at her, and then she changed her tone to something that resembled empathy, sincerity even, "besides, you look like you could use the company."

"If I needed the company…" Lena stared defiantly, "I would have asked."

"Bullshit," Roulette grinned at her, stupidly smug.

The bartender came back with two drinks. Roulette took hers with gusto, and Lena just shook her head. The bartender left the glass on the large, polished coffee table in front of them.

Lena knew Roulette would comment on that. She didn't have to wait.

"The thing is you're annoying me, Luthor."

"So now I'm Luthor, not ma chérie?"

"Just like I'm Roulettefor you, right?"

It was Lena's time to smirk.

"We both know Veronicadied in boarding school along with your virginity and your moral compass."

Roulette smiled broadly, and Lena knew in that precise moment her wit was going to backfire.

"Oh, you're one to talk…"

Lena grabbed her phone to look at the time, finding it hard to stand Roulette's predatory gaze on her. Perhaps it was time to go back home. She felt stupid, all of a sudden.

What was she playing at, each week, in this den she didn't even like? She should be with her children, Lena thought to herself as Roulette kept on searching her with her gaze. She didn't even care. She should be back home, enjoying the time with her babies, bathing them, reading to them, putting them to bed and listening to their steady breaths and little coos. Luna and Liam had quickly become her world, and she wasn't even mad about it because it was the greatest fuck youto her mother. Lillian thought she was poisoning her, scarring her forever, and instead she had ended up giving her a reason to fight, to live, to strive to be the better, the bestLuthor, the one that would always fall into the light even if the rest of her family stood steadily in darkness.

Luna and Liam had done that, they had made her a better person just by existing.

So what was she doing here, away from them? She didn't need this. She couldn't afford to lose time with stupid games, and she suddenly felt disgusted with herself, how could she be so banal when she had children to raise and a multiverse to save?

"Where the hell is your mind right now?"

Roulette's viperous voice brought her back to the club, to the night, to her regrets finally catching up with her.

"See… this is what intrigues me," Roulette lowered her voice, staring right into Lena's eyes, "you pay the twelve grand fee VIP membership of my exclusive lesbian club to stare into the darkness and drink children's beverages when my bartender could make things that would make you enter Nirvana. And I'm not talking only about the drinks. And this lounge? This place is meant for sex, for wild orgies, for women orgasming all over the place. Yet all you do each Saturday is… brood. Yes, you're annoying me. You're killing the vibe."

"Oh, that's what worries you? I see," Lena scoffed.

"I know we're not exactly friends but… if you need to talk, Lena, I have ears," to her credit, Roulette sounded genuine under the thin vein of sarcasm.

And that's what made Lena burst out with laughter. If only she could tell Veronica she didn't drink alcohol because she was breast-feeding two little Kryptonians. If only she could tell her the world might be ending soon because a being made of pure energy and evil would consume them all unless she could figure out how to stop it. If only she could confess how she was unequivocally, desperately, madly in love with her best friend who happened to be the other parent of the miracle children she didn't ask for, children who had invaded her life providing her with a will to love unconditionally that made her incredulously happy and sad at the same time.

It hit her, then. The absurdity of it all. The absolute mess her life had become. It wasn't even believable. And she laughed louder, higher, she laughed and laughed until her eyes were filled with tears and Roulette was staring at her with both worry and terror.

"Someone broke your heart…" Roulette whispered, looking strangely fascinated with Lena's pain, "or… you want something. And you can't have it."

Lena was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. At some point, the tears of laughter had become real ones. She breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, tried to calm down. But all she saw was Kara's face filled with sunshine and warmth, absolutely clueless and innocent.

"Her," Lena clarified, her voice calm, centered. "I can't have her," she let out a little snort and looked back at Roulette, tears rolling down her cheeks. She didn't care. "But also I do have her, in a way?" Lena frowned, trying to find the words to explain through a grimace of pure pain. Roulette listened intently, in silence, fixated on her. "In a way that's intimate, permanent. A torture so sweet," Lena smiled and in her eyes there was an ocean of sadness. "I'm… helpless, really. So yes, Veronica, I come here to brood. I still pay you, though, or are you going to turn down my twelve grand per month because I'm killing the vibe?"

Despite Lena's best efforts to rekindle the flame of bile and sarcasm between them, Roulette just kept on staring at her and Lena could swear there was empathy in her gaze, recognition even.

"Oh, Lena, sweetheart…" The socialite was about to reach out to take Lena's hand, but the young Luthor turned around and wiped furiously at her tears. She got up, suddenly nervous again, a mixture of shame and disgust in her tortured face.

"This isn't helping," Lena murmured to herself. She walked decidedly to the balcony where she could see the dance floor, "I've been fooling myself."

Roulette joined her. For a few liberating seconds for Lena, the two women only watched in silence as the crowd went crazy when the addictive beat of Robyn's hit Dancing On My Own began to resonate through the club. Women jumped and embraced and cried their heart out through the lyrics, and for a moment Lena felt envious, longing for the freedom of being just another body, clashing with other bodies on the dance floor.

"I don't think I'll be coming back, Veronica," Lena whispered, only loud enough for Roulette to hear. She was calm now. She even smirked. "I'm sorry, you might lose the twelve grand in the end."

Roulette sighed, not bothered at all.

"I couldn't care less about the money, Lena, you know that."

Lena raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, this isn't your principal source of income, right?"

Roulette just nodded.

"I see it as a hobby. Making women happy makes me happy. Speaking of which…" Roulette raised her hand then and unexpectedly cupped Lena's cheek. Her hand was cold but her fingers smelled of lavender. Lena didn't step out of the touch, but she didn't move into it either. "It's okay if you don't come back," Roulette said while her thumb caressed Lena's skin. "But if this is your last night here, you might as well try to find what you were looking for. If only for one night?"

Lena put her hand over Roulette's only to turn around and look at the dance floor.

"One night," Lena whispered.

"One night," Roulette echoed.

And with that, Lena nodded and left the room. She didn't look back to her former friend, she was a woman on a mission.

One night, she kept repeating herself as she walked down the stairs and into the dance floor.One night, she thought again, and again, like a mantra as she became a body clashing with other bodies. One night, the phrase looping in her mind as someone tugged her by the waist and made her turn around. A tall blonde, nothing like Kara; slender shoulders, curled hair, full lips. She looked like Charlize Theron's and Angelina Jolie's lovechild, Lena thought, a little awestruck. She was attractive, and more importantly, she was right there. The precise moment. The right place.

The woman offered her hand as a new song hit the floor. One night, Lena told herself as she took the offer. One night, Lena repeated, and then I'll go back to Liam and Luna, to Kara, unconditionally.

The crowd approved enthusiastically as Kylie Minogue's All The Lovers blasted through the speakers. The beat was intoxicating, hot, erotic. The blonde pulled her close. They began dancing hip to hip. Lena circled her arms around her partner's shoulders. The blonde took her by the waist, pulled her impossibly closer. Lena looked up at her, and saw eyes dark with desire, and it was a refreshing feeling, after so long, to be desired. To be wanted. Something stirred inside her, something primal, finally. Lena bit her lower lip, unconsciously, and her partner saw it as a green light.

One night, and I'll take my broken heart and I'll make it into strength, Lena thought as warm hands went down her back and cupped her ass.

One night, and I'll go back to work. Non-stop. I'll find the Anti-Monitor. I'll protect everyone. I'll prevent everything, Lena kept thinking as her body entered an auto-piloted routine – she tugged blonde curls, gave a little bit of encouragement.

One night, and then I'll move on. I'll raise my children. It's only one night, Lena said to herself in a dark corner of her mind as her dancing partner claimed her lips and took her face between her hands.

Only one night for this, and then I'll get over Kara, that was the last coherent thought Lena had before she let herself go and be desired, before she moaned in a stranger's mouth and allowed her body to be set on fire with want, unaware that in that precise moment, Supergirl had landed at the club's front door, lured by Lena's very own accelerated heartbeat.