The moment she walks in for her shift, Lena knows she's screwed.

It's six in the morning; the city's still asleep, bathed in that strange purple light that foreshadows dawn. No one with any sense should be out of bed, let alone doing anything which requires brain power.

It took Lena two black coffees and a row with her mother to wake up this morning.

By the time she reaches the coffee shop it's already been open for an hour, despite the darkness. It stands out among the empty shops and convenience stores with their neon and halogen lights, the soft orange glow spilling onto the pavement like liquid warmth, reminding her of long gone winter nights gathered around wood fires - half-remembered remnants of a life before the Luthors.

There's only one customer in the shop, nestled in her usual place on the armchair beside the condiment bar. Lena recognises her immediately, even through the window - she's wearing an obnoxiously pastel yellow cardigan which clashes with her jeans, and her dirty blond hair is held loosely in place atop her head by a chewed biro.

Her heart skips a beat, and she lingers for a moment in the doorway, unwilling to disrupt the peacefulness of the coffee shop, and the girl's clear concentration. She winces as the bell above the door jangles, piercing the quiet morning air with an unhealthily cheery noise.

"Lena!"

Before she can steal a glance towards the girl tucked away in the corner, she's nearly attacked by her boss.

For all that she loves her best friend, Sam can be a force of nature when she's sleep-deprived. Her movements are slightly wild, eyes wide with caffeine, hair escaping its ponytail in all directions. Cocoa dust and cinnamon powder cling to her apron, and the smell of apple-flavoured baby food can't be hidden, even by the over-powering coffee aroma pervading the air.

"Lena, thank god you're here. Try this." Sam waves a shot glass of black liquid under Lena's nose; the smell is enough to shock the last dregs of sleep from her system.

"What am I trying?"

"An experiment. The new coffee machine arrived last night."

"How's Ruby? Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Ruby's good - she helped me figure this out."

"I doubt a two year old is a trustworthy coffee connoisseur."

"Maybe so, but she has a way with that machine, I tell you. If in doubt, hit it until it makes a noise."

"You didn't answer the second question."

"I got enough."

"Hmm." Unconvinced, Lena settles into her place behind the counter as Sam barrels on into the kitchen, a cloud of icing sugar puffing up behind her.

In an afterthought, Sam pokes her head back around the door and motions towards their only customer with a knowing smirk. Lena manages to ignore her.

For all of five minutes.

As the first rays of morning sunlight filter through the shop windows, Lena sneaks a glance at Kara.

She remembers the first time the girl came to the shop. Lena had barely managed to stumble her way through taking her order, especially when Kara laughed bashfully as she fumbled with her purse, her whole face lighting up. Her eyes had sparkled like supernovas, and Lena had fallen like a shooting star.

Since then Kara's been a regular fixture in the shop, laying claim to the same armchair every weekend morning at an ungodly hour, working intensely for an obscene number of hours straight, drinking more caffeine and sugar than Lena could consume in a week.

Today, she's clearly been in the shop for a while - probably since it opened. Dark smudges linger under her eyes, which have that familiar caffeine-wide look, and flicker between her notebook and laptop so fast she should probably be feeling motion sickness. The sleeves of her cardigan are tugged roughly above her elbows, and Lena can just make out ink equations scrawled hastily up her forearms. There's a pencil tucked behind her ear, a biro spinning back and forth in her right hand as she chews on the end of a neon pink marker held in her left.

Lena's not quite sure how someone sitting so still can be moving so frantically at the same time, but Kara is mesmerising.

At just the right angle, the sunrise sets her hair on fire like a shimmering halo.

"Oh my god, Lena," Sam couldn't sound more in pain if she'd been stabbed. Lena looks up from the straw wrapper she's ripped absentmindedly into a million pieces to her best friend, who has emerged from the sanctuary of the spice-smelling kitchen, and now leans against the coffee maker as if she really has been stabbed. "Just ask her out."

Lena almost chokes on thin air. "What?"

Sam rolls her eyes. "Your poker face is literally nonexistant. You've been giving Kara heart eyes since she first wandered in here. And haven't you noticed she buys, like, twice as many coffees when you're on shift?"

Despite the red she can feel burning in her cheeks, a bubble of something she thinks might be hope swells in Lena's chest. "Really?"

"You're literally hopeless, Luthor," Sam sighs. "Why do you think she always comes in here?"

"To get coffee?" It comes out as more of a question. She's painfully aware of how quiet the shop can be at times, and her fingers itch to turn on the blender, or the coffee maker - anything to cover their whispering, embarrassed at the idea that Kara might hear.

"There are cheaper places to go for coffee, especially at the rate she drinks it. The poor girl's already gone through two white chocolate caramel coffee frappes in the past hour."

Lena considers this, the ambient noises of lights buzzing and liquids bubbling and National City coming slowly to life outside filling the silence.

"Hey - why don't you take this to her."

Sam doesn't give her a chance to argue, just thrusts a cup into Lena's hand and disappears back into the kitchen with nothing more than an encouraging wink, which does absolutely nothing to quell the butterflies suddenly attempting to tear their way out of her stomach.

The drink Sam has given her makes Lena feel dizzy just looking at it - a towering monstrosity of caramel and chocolate syrups, extra espresso shots, whipped cream almost as tall as the drink itself, drenched in strawberry sauce and strewn with glitter sugar and marshmallows.

In the past few months, Lena has memorised every single one of Kara's alternating coffee orders; this drink is perfect.

As she approaches the armchair, Kara looks up with those intriguingly dark blue, intensity melting away the moment she registers a person in front of her. A smile slips onto her face.

"Uh, hi," Lena worries at the fraying end of her apron's belt with her free hand. She really should've thought this through more carefully. "This is for you."

Gracelessly, she deposits the sugary monstrosity on the table. It wobbles precariously for a moment.

Kara's eyes light up like Ruby's do on Christmas morning, and Lena's heart does a backflip.

"Wow, that looks amazing," she gushes. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's on the house," Lena shrugs as nonchalantly as she can manage. "The sleep-deprived-genius discount."

"I'm not a genius," Kara ducks her head in an endearing show of self-consciousness.

"Says the girl writing out complex algorithims off the top of her head." Lena nods at Kara's notepad and arms - although her handwriting is a tangle of loops and sharp lines, and some of it doesn't even appear to be English, Lena can easily tell that her notes are quite literally rocket science.

"Oh- this, it's just- a project, y'know." Kara's hands fret absently over the papers.

"Sounds genius to me."

"Thanks."

"I'll, uh, leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything else."

She gathers up Kara's old cups and all but makes a break for it back to the counter, just as another customer wanders in. From within the kitchen, Sam gives her a sarcastic thumbs up.

"Welcome to Ruby's Roast, what can I get for you?"

She takes the new customer's order - a perfectly ordinary, sensible caffe latte, thank god - on autopilot, watching half in awe, half in horror, as behind him Kara leans over to the condiments bar to grab the sugar and cocoa powder shakers, depositing what seems like half the contents on top of her drink.

How she doesn't get hyper is an actual miracle.

Her shift passes the same as it always does when Kara's in - distractedly, glances snuck every so often, finding excuses to go over to that side of the cafe.

Halfway through, her phone begins buzzing incessantly. She sneaks into the kitchen to check it, hoping it's not her roommate springing a flooded bathroom or broken bed on her as she's come to expect.

Unknown number:

- Heya, it's Kara
- thnx for leaving me ur number
- tbh i was working up the courage to ask u for it
- i was wondering
- would u be free after ur shift
- to go out or something
- usually i'd say go for coffee but
- maybe pizza? or the ice rink?
- i'm just gonna stop spamming u now soz

Lena stares at her phone, unsure if her eyes are working correctly. When did she leave her number...

Her eyes drift to Sam, unsuccessfully hiding beside the oven.

"Sam, what did you do?"

"You really should check what you give the customers, Lena. You never know what someone might write on the cups as a prank. This is really bad customer service-"

"I hate you, Arias." Lena both wants to punch and hug her best friend - too distracted by the inflating hope rising in her chest, she simply flicks her middle finger in Sam's vague direction, attention back on her phone screen.

"You're welcome!"