Our Red Scarf (Keep Me Warm)

Raven eyes the truck a little. The engine is still on and it’s vibrating as it sits, roaring on the side of the road. “Looks like you could use a mechanic,” she says. “How far are you trying to take it?” “West coast,” the driver says, purposefully vague, which suits Raven just fine. “That’s where I’m headed too. If you do the driving, I’ll make sure we get there.” The driver eyes her a little closer, studying up and down, and Raven fidgets, swallowing the urge to bark what are you looking at? She knows what she must look like; greasy hair that hasn’t been washed in days, thrown up in a messy tangled ponytail, rumpled sweat-soaked clothes, boots caked in Midwest dust, old fraying bag tossed over one shoulder, the crude metal brace strapped over her knee. She looks like a homeless person, or a runaway. A Lifetime movie in the making. She looks like baggage, the extra kind that nobody wants to carry home. The driver leans over, and pops the lock on the passenger door. It feels more like a gesture than anything else; Raven could have easily reached in through the window and done it herself.

"Lena is the constant. It’s always either her and Supergirl or her and Kara who strut in confidently. If it’s Supergirl then they never sit in, always takeaway to somewhere secluded, Izzy imagines. Somewhere warm where suits don’t matter and the television can play softly in the background. Where they can lazily let the night draw its own pattern without the public eye on them. Lena and Kara, however, are more public. Kissing on the street outside, under the glow of the streetlamps, Kara holding a red umbrella as she throws her head back at something Lena said. They have less to hold them back." Or the story of how Izzy, a waitress in a chinese restaurant, watches Kara and Lena fall in love

There was a crackle of static and a burst of sparks—for a moment Martha thought the Master had burned a hole in him—and with a ripple like a force field dropping, the Doctor… changed.