Archive of Our Own

Januaries, as a general rule, were slower than the previous four months of the year, largely due to the collective exhaustion of a populace hell-bent on consumption. Whether they consumed the sweet/sour combination of processed sugar and horror-genre entertainment, the comforting tradition of roasted meats, potatoes, and stilted family dinners, pitched battles in the Walmart aisles for the latest cheap material goods underscored by the same forty Christmas carols every year, or the tried-and-true mix of alcohol and optimism didn’t matter. Exhaustion was always the result. 

Exhausted and hungover people rarely made news, hence, January was usually a slow month in Cat Grant’s industry. This January was no exception. So when the stray notion of taking Kara Danvers, CatCo’s newest reporter, to dinner to see how she was faring under Snapper Carr’s unique tutelage crossed Cat’s mind, she had no good reason to dismiss it.

Cat chose David Chang’s inaugural National City establishment, Majordomo, for two reasons. One, the menu accommodated both Cat’s preference for lighter fare and Kara’s higher-calorie needs, and two, there was a dessert on the menu seemingly tailor-made for Kara called the MajorDonut. The younger woman’s reaction to that alone would be worth whatever price Cat had to pay.

However, their evening began slightly askew, characterized by a veneer of formality Cat hadn’t expected. She attributed it to the adjustments necessary for them to transition from their once-interdependent professional relationship to this newer, more balanced version. The awkwardness lasted until Kara rolled her eyes in answer to Cat’s query regarding Snapper Carr.

“Ah, yes,” said Cat, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Snapper is what you might call a charm school dropout.”

“Oooh, that’s good,” said Kara, chuckling. “I’m going to call him that in my head from now on.”

“What do you call him now?” asked Cat, genuinely curious. 

“Chonkosaurus Rex,” Kara admitted quietly, grimacing.

Cat laughed. “After that viral sensation from the Chicago River?” When Kara nodded, she said, “I’m sure you’re not the only one calling him that. Charm School Dropout works, too.”

Kara speared another crispy potato from the plate between her and Cat and side-eyed her.

“Do you have a secret name for him?” she asked slyly. 

Cat raised one eyebrow. “I don’t know how secret it is,” she said, “but his given name is Lucas.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “You mean–”

“It had to start somewhere, didn’t it?” Cat shrugged elegantly and affected an air of innocence. “I didn’t expect it to stick.”

Kara managed not to laugh right up until Cat looked up from her salad to wink at her.

After that little icebreaker, dinner went swimmingly. So much so, that Cat offered to drop Kara at her loft, and she rolled down her window to say good night before she disappeared.

“Good night,” answered Kara, beaming. “And thanks for dinner, Cat. It was great.” 

“It was,” Cat agreed. “Thank you for keeping me company on an otherwise uneventful January evening.”

“Anytime,” replied Kara.

Cat watched until Kara was safely inside before rolling up her window, chiding herself the whole time for her ridiculous concern.

February was not Cat Grant’s favorite month. The weather was often dismal, current events tended toward depressing topics, and celebrating the greeting card and florist industries’ favorite invented holiday had never appealed, not even in elementary school. The only redeeming feature February had, in her opinion, was its brevity.

If others felt the need to exchange heart-shaped greetings or criminally marked-up roses, far be it from her to interfere. Cat’s problem was that she couldn’t help but see the dark side of the holiday. Even in elementary school, there were children whose only Valentine came from the teacher, and the sadness in their eyes was difficult to reconcile with a holiday purportedly about love. 

For adults, the holiday was an excuse to spend too much money and to have (often disappointing) sex. For children, it was a carefully unacknowledged popularity contest, which many lost, including her son. 

So when Cat saw an adult version of that contest playing out in the junior reporter bullpen one afternoon, it - to put it mildly - pissed her right off.

“Hi, Cat,” said Kara, looking up from her laptop with a smile when Cat came onto the floor. The rest of the cubs either stared at the CEO, terrified, or huddled in small groups to whisper speculations about why she was there. Not Kara, although only someone who knew her as well as Cat did would have noticed her smile’s dimmed wattage. 

“Kara,” said Cat, stopping briefly at her former assistant’s desk. Snapper was on the telephone, she saw, so she had a moment to spare. “Covering something interesting today?” 

While she waited for Kara’s answer, she glanced at the desks nearby, seeing bursts of red and pink, several vases of roses, and one desk that had four cards propped open around a pencil cup. Kara’s desk, on the other hand, was bereft of decoration of any kind. Conspicuously so. 

“Ozone depletion,” said Kara. “A new journal article claims the ozone layer is recovering more slowly over dense population areas.”

“Hmm.” Cat’s mild frown could have been mistaken for serious thought, but she hadn’t heard a single word Kara said. Instead, she was thinking about what she knew of Kara’s current personal relationships. 

Cat had heard about the one disastrous date she’d had with James, of course. Winn’s interest had either flagged now that Kara wasn’t a daily distraction for him, or he’d moved on to sunnier climes. And wasn’t Kara’s sister in a relatively new relationship? Who was left to acknowledge Kara on this ridiculous holiday other than her foster mother?

Decision made, Cat glanced up to see Snapper still on his phone, gesticulating wildly. 

“Let Snapper know I stopped by, won’t you?”

“Uhh, sure,” said Kara, glancing at the man in question. “Should I pass on a message or–”

“Only that I hope he wins his argument with the dial tone quickly,” said Cat. “And that he’s lucky I don’t bill by the minute.” She spun on her heels and strode away, leaving a smirking Kara in her wake. 

Ninety minutes later, Jenny, the temp sitting at reception that month, walked into the bullpen to deliver yet another Valentine’s bouquet. No one was more surprised than Kara when she delivered it to her.

“For you, Miss Danvers,” said the college co-ed with the slightly unhinged Colgate smile. 

“Me?” Kara’s eyes went wide. “And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Kara?”

Jenny waved her off. “There’s a card,” she noted before heading back to her post. 

Kara reached out and let the velvety petals of the yellow daisies - her favorite flower - tickle her palm before finding and retrieving the small envelope. She gently pulled out the tiny square of card stock, surprised by the four words on it. 

Kara spent the rest of February trying - and failing - to find out who had sent the flowers. She’d narrowed it down to Eliza (the most likely culprit) or Alex (no matter how many times she denied it). There was an outside chance - so far outside as to be in the next galaxy over, to be honest - that they were from Susan Vasquez, but Kara dared not ask her just in case she was wrong. 

It was the best Valentine’s Day she’d ever had.

March blew in like a lion high on a toxic mix of cocaine and booze thanks to the current US President, a man Cat exclusively referred to as He Who Shall Not Be Named. Beginning the month in a mood that could have only come from the depths of Hell was bad enough, but then came the unexpected request from her ex-husband for a change to their custodial agreement regarding Carter. A request for less visitation.

Technically, Cat should have counted it a win. Having Carter every Christmas instead of every other was something she’d wanted for a long time. The reason for the change was what worried her. Apparently, Paul’s soon-to-be third wife was pregnant and the baby was due in December. The first-time mother didn’t want Paul’s focus divvied up between past and present, not this December or any other.

Already sensitive about rejection - and who could blame him? - the change would be hard to explain to Carter without painting - what was her name? Veronica? Victoria? - as the wicked stepmother and Paul as the henpecked father torn between one son and (possibly) another. 

Cat was on her second bourbon of the night, looking out over the city and pondering her options, when Supergirl landed next to her on light feet.

“Miss Grant?” she asked, frowning slightly. “I saw you when I was passing. Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” said Cat, “but it’s nothing you should be concerned with.” She gave the superhero a small smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You must have more important concerns than my evening of melancholy.” 

“I don’t mind,” said Supergirl, trying to reassure her. “You’re important to me, Miss Grant. If I can help, I will.”

For a moment, it seemed Cat would accept the offered helping hand, but then she shook her head. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. “It’s far too small a problem to warrant your attention, though I do appreciate the offer.” She raised her tumbler in salute. “And the sentiment.”

Supergirl frowned. “The offer stands if you change your mind,” she said. “All you have to do is ask.”

Cat nodded. “I know,” she said, and part of her wanted to scream, because how long were they going to have to do this dance? Why couldn’t they just acknowledge what was so blatantly obvious? Another part of her, one much more rational, understood the reasons for the dance all too well. “I think this problem is more suited to someone a little more down-to-earth,” she added. 

“I understand,” said the hero, and Cat could see she did. “I hope your night improves, Miss Grant.” She was gone before Cat could respond. 

Ten minutes later, a soft but familiar voice spoke to her from the door to the balcony. 

“Cat?” Kara smoothed the gray pleated pants she’d hurried into and checked again to see that she’d tucked her shirt tail properly. “You okay?”

Having expected this particular inquiry from this particular person, Cat smirked and hoped Kara wouldn’t see it. 

“You’re here late,” she noted. She didn’t turn around. “Burning the midnight oil?”

Kara joined her at the balcony rail. “Well, it’s only eight-thirty or so, but yeah. I won’t tell you what number re-write I’m on for my article this week - not that Snapper will print it or anything.” The casual way those words rolled off Kara’s tongue made Cat surmise they were mostly true. “What’s going on, though?” asked the young reporter. “You seem…pensive.”

Cat’s hesitance came and went in the blink of an eye. After all, wasn’t this exactly what she wanted?

“Paul wants to change our custody agreement again,” she said, glancing at Kara before taking another sip of amber liquid. “But this time, he’s asking for less time with Carter, not more.”

Kara’s eyebrows dove low over her eyes and she clenched her hands into fists. “Is there a reason?” she asked, her voice more measured than Cat expected it to be.

“Yes,” she answered. “And it’s not a bad one. If the situations were reversed, I would have asked for the same thing.”

“But?” Kara narrowed her eyes.

“But…” Cat paused and took another sip of her bourbon. “I don’t know how to tell Carter,” she admitted softly. 

“Before I stick my foot in my mouth, is it okay if I offer suggestions, or is this strictly a venting situation?” asked Kara. “I can do either,” she added, but the way she ground her teeth suggested she preferred to give her opinion, at the very least.

“Both, if that’s alright with you,” said Cat. “I would appreciate your input.” 

She told Kara exactly what Paul had requested and why, how she understood it, but was afraid Carter wouldn’t, that he’d be hurt and it would damage his relationship with Paul over the long-term. When she finished, Kara gently squeezed her forearm in support and then began to pace. 

“What if you brought it to him as a question - like, ‘Carter, you know your dad and his partner are expecting their first child this December, and they’ll have a lot to deal with, especially in those first few months…”

Sitting down with Carter the next evening after dinner, Cat quoted Kara almost verbatim. “They’ll have a lot to deal with, especially in those first few months,” she explained over dessert, hoping that a little sugar would help the medicine go down. “You’re older now, and I know how much help you’d be to them if we went ahead with the usual holiday schedule, but I’m worried the chaos - not to mention the crying - will detract from your Christmas and ruin your break from school.” She squeezed Carter’s hand. “What do you think?”

Carter scooped another bite of carrot cake into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Is Dad okay with me not coming this year?” he asked. “And if I don’t go this year, will I have to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them next year?”

“Your father and I have spoken, and he says it’s not his decision to make,” said Cat, answering with the spirit of truth if not its precision. Kara’s point that Paul’s circumstances might change, and with them the custody agreement, again, convinced Cat to focus only on the upcoming Christmas. “As for your second question, why don’t we wait and see what happens? You might be away at school or studying for exams. I’m sure everything will be clearer next year.”

The next morning, Jenny the Temp brought a giant pink bakery box to Kara’s desk. Before Kara could say a word, she tapped the envelope tucked under the baker's twine being used as ribbon. “There’s a card,” she sang gleefully, and then she headed back to her desk.

Kara would have known what the box contained even without x-ray vision. She smelled the cupcakes the second they left the elevator. Besides, the card - which she recognized as belonging to Cat’s personalized stationery - held more interest for her. 

A little while later, Cat received an email. 

And sure enough, a raspberry cheesecake cupcake, under the most ridiculous DIY cloche Cat had ever seen, sat on the balcony bistro table. A scalding Noonan’s latte and a fork wrapped in a cloth napkin sat next to it. 

Cat ate the whole thing. 

After all, who would ever tell?

Early one morning in April, Snapper sent Cat an email.

Grateful the Grinch still had heart enough to let her know when Kara did well, Cat spared him a reply. Anything she sent, even as simple as a thank you, would have him scowling for a month. 

She expected Kara to show up at her office door before ten, beaming from ear to ear, but that didn’t happen. Thinking she may have been delayed by a Supergirl emergency, Cat adjusted her timeline accordingly. When Kara hadn’t shown up by three, she decided to take matters into her own hands. 

Literally.

Kara picked up on the first ring.

“He told you, didn’t he?” she said before Cat could say anything. Kara was clearly upset, perhaps even annoyed by the sound of things, which concerned the CEO. 

“If you’re referring to Snapper informing me of your first solo byline, then yes, he told me.” 

“Ugh. He’s such a…” Kara wisely let that sentence go. “I’m sorry, Cat. I don’t know why he did that, I mean, other than to gloat or something.” She sighed. “I know it’s not a big deal. It’s just the Health section.”

“Who told you that?” asked Cat, shocked. “If it was Snapper–”

“It wasn’t. He barely said anything. Just ‘You’re in. Friday, Health.’” She hesitated. “It was Alex. When I called to tell her, she - well, she congratulated me, of course - but then she said ‘It’s not front page, but it’s a start, right?’ She had to go right after, but I realized maybe I was making it out to be more than it is, you know?”

“Alex is wrong,” said Cat, trying not to imagine killing the DEO agent with her bare hands. “It’s your first solo byline. Most journalists don’t hit that milestone until they’ve been writing for three or four years. I expected you to run up twenty-three flights of stairs just to tell me yourself.” Schooling her tone to be slightly less arrogant, she added, “You should be proud of yourself, Kara. I know I am.”

“Oh,” said Kara softly. “Thank you, Cat. That– That means a lot. Really.”

Cat cleared her throat. “You’re welcome. Now, I refuse to let your sister’s ignorance ruin what should be a celebration. Let me take you to lunch on Friday. Anywhere you like.”

“Anywhere?” asked Kara. Her tone suggested she had somewhere off the beaten path in mind.

“Let me rephrase. Anywhere within a twenty-five-mile radius that a) serves a full menu, and b) isn’t owned by Disney or its subsidiaries.”

“That eliminated four of my top ten options,” Kara complained, laughing. “I’ll send you a couple of ideas in a little bit, okay?”

When their call disconnected, Cat angrily scrolled through her contacts until she found the right one. She stabbed the call tile.

“Danvers,” said the woman who answered. Her tone was brusque. “Who’s this?”

“This, Agent, is the Queen of all Media and she is sorely disappointed in you.”

“Miss Grant?!” To say Alex Danvers was shocked would be an understatement.

“The same,” confirmed Cat. “Agent, am I to understand you told Kara having her first solo byline was - how did you put it? - ‘a good start’?”

Muttering something to herself before she spoke, Alex said, “Hold your stable of million-dollar Arabians, Miss Grant.” Cat raised her eyebrow. “I just said that to put her off– We’re–”  Alex swore. “Look, I’m betting you know exactly why we can’t talk about this on the phone. Or, like, anywhere in the continental United States. Can we have this conversation via text?”

“No need,” said Cat, smirking. “I get the gist. I apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion, Agent.” She chastised herself for ever believing Kara’s family would overlook the importance of the occasion. The woman who flew a derelict ship into space to save Kara’s life didn’t do it just to break Kara’s heart.

“Call me Alex,” said Alex. “I mean, as often as Kara has talked about you all these years, you’re practically family. And if she’s a fan, who am I to judge?”

Dumbfounded by that assessment, Cat was also moved. 

“That’s kind of you to say. Thank you, Alex.” The usual edge to Cat’s words had softened considerably. “Please call me Cat.”

“Wow. First name basis with the Queen of All Media,” Alex teased. “Is this what winning an Oscar feels like? It is, isn’t it?”

“Hmm. I see where your sister gets her sense of humor from,” Cat noted. 

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No apology necessary, Alex. Thank you for taking my call.”

A minute later, Cat got a text message.

Cat couldn’t attend, of course. She had plans that night, for one thing. 

More importantly, it would look like favoritism if she went, which would instantly torpedo Kara’s career. Who would ever take her seriously as a journalist if they thought her accolades weren’t earned? 

Cat couldn’t risk it, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t contribute at all…

As the party wound down Friday night, Alex sought out Noonan’s special event coordinator to thank her only to be handed an envelope. 

“What’s this?” she asked. 

“A receipt to show that we’ve refunded the entire cost of tonight back to the card you used,” said Natalie, grinning. 

“What?” Alex looked up from the white slip of paper, eyes round. “Why?”

“Because an anonymous benefactor insisted,” Natalie replied, arching one eyebrow. “They’ve taken care of the entire bill, including the bar tab and a very generous gratuity. But I can’t tell you who it is. I signed an NDA.”

Alex snorted. “That’s the least surprising part of all this, honestly.” She tucked the receipt back into its envelope. “Tell her–” Natalie’s alarmed expression made Alex backtrack. “Them! Please tell them I’m extremely grateful–”

Kara squealing twenty feet away commanded the attention of everyone still in the room. “Alex, you’re not going to believe who I just got a personally recorded congratulations video from!” She shoved her phone under Alex’s nose. “Look! She’s singing it, like, right there! In her living room!” Before Alex could say a word, Kara was searching the room for someone else to tell. “Winn!” she called, heading off in his direction. “Winn, you’re never going to believe this! Come look!”

Natalie and Alex watched her flit from person to person like an over-excited hummingbird.

“Taylor?” asked the events coordinator.

“Ooo, good guess, but no.” Alex glanced in Natalie’s direction. “Beyoncé.”

“Of course,” said Natalie, nodding sagely. There was a brief pause. “Why even bother with the NDA?”

“Who the fuck knows?” sighed Alex. “Maybe she–I mean they collect them. Like keychains or ugly ceramic penguins.”

The Sunday after Mother’s Day, Cat rambled around her massive kitchen, in the mood to bake. As she whisked and stirred, Carter sat in the media room studying for an upcoming math exam with the TV on. The sound was down, though, so he wasn’t paying much attention to it. 

Cat had just upended a baking tin full of cupcakes over her cooling racks when her phone vibrated. Annoyed, she stashed the still-hot tin on the stovetop and pulled off her oven mitt. 

The brief text from one of her news producers contained two exclamation points and a link, which she opened, watching the broadcast on the tiny screen with growing horror. 

“Mom! Mom! Come quick!” Carter called from the media room and Cat hurried to him, only to see the same broadcast on her 85” Samsung. Carter looked around frantically for the remote to turn up the sound. 

“–scene only moments ago over downtown National City where three unknown entities confronted Supergirl near City Hall. The altercation escalated quickly into a brawl as authorities on the ground mobilized to offer assistance. As you can see, Supergirl appeared to be more than a match for all three until one of them fired a weapon at her, either immobilizing her or rendering her unconscious. Seconds later, Supergirl began to fall from the sky–”

Cat snatched the remote from Carter and muted the report so she could call Kara. When Kara’s phone went to voicemail the second time, Cat called a different number. 

“Can’t talk now, Cat,” said Alex tersely. “I’ll call you when we’ve stabilized her.” 

“Stabilized– Alex, wait!” But Alex had already hung up. Cat, dazed, slowly sat down on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at the television while the useless report continued. 

Carter went to her side. “Mom–” he began, but a persistent soft ding from the kitchen interrupted him. “I’ll be right back,” he told Cat. “Don’t move.”

When Carter returned, he held a wad of paper towels and the timer had been silenced. 

“I took that batch of cupcakes out of the oven,” he let her know. He sat on the coffee table across from his mother. “I don’t know if they’re done, but I didn’t want them to burn.” He looked carefully at her, concern making him grim-faced. 

“Does Kara know?” he asked.

The mention of Kara brought Cat out of her trance. “Know what?” she asked, confused.

“How you feel about her,” said Carter. “And before you blow up at me, I only realized it when you tried to call Alex. It wasn’t, like, super obvious before that.” He grimaced at his word choice, but Cat didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you mean ‘how I feel about her’?” she asked, tensing. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her phone. “Why would you think I feel any way about her, let alone what you’re implying, which is just–”

“Mom, you’re crying.” Carter pressed the paper towels into his mother’s free hand. “You’ve been crying since the news report started.”

One of Cat’s hands flew to her cheek and came away wet. Shocked at first, she realized Carter’s logic - though unexpected - was sound. She felt something more than friendship for Kara and had for a while. Her denials drifted away.

“No,” she whispered, drying her tears. “She doesn’t know.”

Carter frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s– It’s complicated, Carter,” said Cat. “She works for me, for one thing, and she’s just starting her career. She doesn’t need me to make that harder for her. And I have CatCo and you to think about.” She sighed and looked away from him. “Both of us are juggling a dozen responsibilities as it is.”

“Mom - don’t take this the wrong way - but everything in your life is complicated,” said Carter, snorting. “It always has been and it always will be. But everything always works out because you make it work! Another thing in the mix - a really good thing - won’t mess that up.” He grinned at her. “Besides, I’m almost sixteen now. I’m not that hard to deal with these days, right?”

Cat smiled sadly and reached up to trace her son’s face with her fingertips. “You’ve never been hard to deal with, Carter,” she said. “I love you. Even when things were–” She searched for a word that wouldn’t hurt his feelings. “–challenging, that’s all I remember. How much I love you. How proud I am. How grateful.”

“It’ll work the same way with Kara, Mom. I promise it will.” Carter gently poked her in the shoulder. “But you have to tell her first.”

Cat pursed her lips. “I’ll think about it. I’m not promising anything else, alright?”

“Okay,” said Carter. He couldn’t hide the sly smile pulling at his lips.

“You realize she may not be interested in me that way, right?” asked Cat, shaking her head. “We might be setting ourselves up for disappointment.”

“I’m sorry - we are talking about Kara, right? Kara Danvers? Ponytail? Glasses?” Carter gaped at his mother. “Didn’t she save you from an exploding plane once? She didn’t save the President, Mom. She didn’t even try. She saved you.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. You’re–” Cat’s phone buzzing kept her from saying something snide in her exasperation. She walked a few steps away before she answered the call. “Alex? Is she alright?”

Carter shook his head, amused. “And as much as she stares at it, you’d think the sun shines out of your ass,” he muttered to himself. “But sure, Mom, you keep thinking she’s not interested in you that way. What do I know?”

“She’s fine,” said Alex, sighing audibly. “We’re keeping her here for observation - something she’s not happy about - but we’re still doing tests on what did this so I don’t want her too far away, you know what I mean?”

“Of course. Keep her there as long as you need. I’ll tell Snapper there’s been a family emergency.”

“Thanks. That will help. Any chance you can magically tell me who those goons were or what they hit her with? We’re not getting many answers over here.”

“I can’t help with the what,” said Cat, frowning, “but I may be able to help with the who. I’ll have a team go over the footage. Maybe they’ll see something that might tell us who they are or where they came from.”

“Have I told you how much I’m enjoying this little collaboration thing we’ve got going?” asked Alex, and Cat could hear the smile in her voice. “No chance you have something that will take Kara’s mind off being stuck here, is there? She’s really pissed.”

Cat smiled. “Do you think two dozen homemade cupcakes would help? I was indulging my inner Mary Berry when the report came on. I don’t know why I made so many. Carter and I would never have been able to eat them all.”

“Sold!” said Alex, her mood perking up considerably. “When should I send a driver to pick them up?”

“An hour. I was just about to frost them.”

“Perfect. An hour it is. Thanks, Cat.” Alex paused. “She really is okay,” she said. “She could probably go home, even. I’m just being overprotective.”

“You’re being a good sister, Alex. Kara understands that. I know she does.”

Alex snorted. “Maybe you could mention that in the note you send with the cupcakes? She might believe it, then.”

Having promised her son that she would think about telling Kara how she felt, Cat soon found she could think of nothing else. All through the rest of May, she fought an internal battle of What If, unclear which option was the least terrifying - telling Kara or not telling her. Deciding she needed more evidence of Kara’s alleged interest before she could choose, Cat invited her to spend the weekend after school let out with her and Carter at the beach house.

“It’s probably the last time we’ll do this, especially if he gets early admission to Cal Poly in the spring,” explained Cat, calling Kara one evening just to throw her son under the bus for putting such a ridiculous idea in her head in the first place. “You’ve been such a good friend to him over the years, I know he’d love to spend some time with you before he’s off making the world a better place.”

“I– What an amazing offer, Cat. Thank you. And of course, I’d love to see Carter before he’s off to college. Early, of course, because he gets his brilliance from you.” She sounded so certain of that correlation. “Can I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” said Cat, pausing to clear her throat. She hadn’t expected her ruse to work quite so well or so quickly. “And whatever swimwear you prefer. The pool will be ready and there’s the beach, too. It’ll be casual, of course, and there’s a strict ‘No Work’ policy that I end up violating every year for a few hours. Luckily, Carter’s a forgiving child.”

“Not so much a child anymore, though,” said Kara, chuckling. “Send me the dates and I’ll be there. Thanks again for inviting me, Cat. It’s incredibly generous of you.”

“No more so than all you’ve done for Carter,” said Cat. “See you then.”

Kara showed up exactly on time that chosen Friday afternoon, wearing shorts and a tank top over what was - without a doubt - a bathing suit. She had an overnight bag over her shoulder and carried two gift bags, one in each hand.

“One for the next BMOC,” she said, handing Carter the smaller of the two bags with a huge grin.

“Which you’ll open after dinner,” said Cat, smiling over Carter’s pout. 

“And one for the hostess,” said Kara, handing the larger bag to Cat. “Because Eliza taught me manners.”

Cat peered into the bag to see four bottles of good wine, two red and two white. She raised one eyebrow. “Be sure to thank Eliza for me, won’t you?” she said. “She taught you well.”

They ate grilled fish and vegetables on the deck under a slow and beautiful sunset. Carter caught Kara up on all his news despite being worn out from swimming and sunshine and excitement. Cat contributed when appropriate, but spent the majority of her time observing Kara and Carter, pleased by the ease of their interaction, yet counseling herself at the same time that it didn’t mean anything other than Kara was kind.

Carter, apparently, was of a different mind. As they carried their plates inside, he surreptitiously waggled his eyebrows at his mother as if to say See? See?? Cat steadfastly refused to acknowledge him. 

After a lovely dessert of lemon-ginger granita, Carter gazed at his mom with pleading eyes. “Can I open it now?” he asked. “It’s after dinner.”

“Barely,” she chastised, carrying empty dishes to the sink, “but if Kara says it’s okay…” She turned around only to catch Kara frozen in the act of handing the gift bag to her son. 

“Oops,” said Kara, grimacing apologetically. 

Cat rolled her eyes. “Go ahead then,” she sighed. 

Carter dove in and pulled out a card and a small, wrapped box. “Is it okay if I read the card later?” he asked shyly. “It makes me really nervous otherwise.”

“Me, too,” said Kara. She bumped his shoulder with her own. “Read it whenever you want to, just so long as I’m not in the room.”

Relieved, he pushed the envelope to the side and opened the box to find a titanium diver’s watch with a royal blue face. “Oh, wow.” He took it out of its case to look at it more closely. “This is so cool - Mom, look!”

“I see,” said Cat, smiling, and she was just about to remind him of his manners when he turned and threw his arms around Kara’s neck, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you so much, Kara! I love it.”

Kara hugged him back just as tightly - well, almost. “You’re welcome,” she said, and when she pulled back, she whispered, “There’s something on the back.”

Intrigued, Carter flipped the watch inside out. “It’s engraved!” he said, reading, “‘When in doubt, remember: WWCGD?’” He looked up at Kara. “What would Cat Grant do?” he asked. 

Kara nodded. “Who better to emulate than the Queen of All Media?” she asked, winking at Cat. “Even if she is your mom.”

After everyone had gone to bed, Carter claimed - via text - the engraving was all the proof Cat should need. Cat disagreed.

The next morning, Cat woke to the smell of coffee and…was that bacon? As she tied her robe, a gleeful shout explained at least one of the other delicious smells. 

“Pancakes!”

Cat arrived in the kitchen just as Kara set a steaming cup of coffee next to her place at the table. Carter had been there long enough for half of his plate to have disappeared.

“Your breakfast is served,” said Kara, following Cat’s coffee with an elegantly plated breakfast of a delicate tomato and basil egg-white omelet, several sliced strawberries, and one piece of perfectly cooked bacon. She winked at Cat after she set it down. 

Cat carefully did not look at her son lest he waggle his eyebrows at her again. Still, perhaps his hypothesis wasn’t completely off base. She could dismiss one wink, but two?

“I don’t remember stocking bacon for this weekend,” she said pointedly.

“Luckily, there’s a twenty-four-hour market nearby,” Kara replied. “Everyone knows you can’t have pancakes without bacon!”

“And where’s yours?” Cat asked.

“Almost done,” Kara said over her shoulder. Her bare shoulder - something Cat had just become viscerally aware of, thanks to caffeine. When Kara lifted the pan to flip her last pancake, the muscles in the bare arm attached to that shoulder became more defined. Cat hid her gasp behind her coffee cup.

“Hotter than I expected,” explained Cat, gesturing weakly at her cup. Kara smiled and went back to her pancake. Cat closed her eyes and bewailed her choice of words, willing herself not to blush.

“Careful,” Kara warned her mildly. “I wouldn’t want you to burn your tongue.”

Carter abruptly began to cough and raised his hands in apology. “Sorry,” he croaked, pushing himself away from the table to flee. “Went down the wrong pipe.”

Cat rolled her eyes at him.

They spent the morning at the beach. Cat read under a sunbrella the size of a small island while Kara and Carter bodysurfed, swam, and splashed each other, making sure to keep well away from Cat when they did. 

After cleaning up, they had lunch and rested, each in their way. Carter played video games in the media room, and Cat used the lull to break the ‘No Work’ rule in her home office. Kara sat out on the deck and soaked in every bit of sunshine she could, relishing the serenity of an afternoon without the usual pressures in her life. 

That evening, Cat suggested they go to a nearby oceanfront restaurant for dinner, and Kara convinced the Grants they should all walk there.

“It’s five miles by car, but only one if we take the beach. The tide’s going out and it’s such a beautiful night.”

Who could say no to that?

Carter jogged ahead of the adults and searched the sand for beach glass and pretty pebbles. Cat and Kara strolled behind him, talking about anything and everything. Dinner was more of the same with the added benefit of an excellent meal and a teenager’s point of view. 

As they walked back to the beach house, Carter once again outpacing them, Cat thanked Kara for Carter’s gift. 

“I meant to say something yesterday, but I never managed it,” she said. “It’s such a thoughtful gift, especially the engraving, even if Carter might not realize it yet.”

“Oh, he’ll figure it out soon enough,” said Kara happily. “It’s been my mantra from the second day I worked for you, and look how much it’s helped me.”

“Your second day, hmm?” Cat smirked. “Dare I ask what your mantra was on your first day?”

“I’m kinda surprised you don’t know,” said Kara, scrunching her face. “I’m pretty sure I was saying it out loud all day.” When Cat looked expectantly at her, she chanted, “Don’t quit, don’t quit, don’t quit…”

Cat chuckled. “How strange,” she said. “If I recall correctly, I had a similar mantra on your first day.” She looked at Kara and winked, chanting, “Don’t fire her, don’t fire her, don’t fire her…”

Early one afternoon in July, Kara sat at her desk in the bullpen frowning at her laptop. Something was wrong with the latest draft of her article, but she couldn’t tell what. While she continued to scowl at it, her cell phone buzzed next to her. 

“Cat?” she asked, answering as soon as she saw the name. “Everything okay?”

“Hardly. Jean-Louis at the Paris office has decided to launch a coup of the board. If he gains control, I have no doubt he’ll begin proceedings to terminate at least four other members, hoping to install friends who - like him - have fallen under the spell of that bottle-blonde fascist and her party of sulking xenophobes.”

Kara grimaced. “So, I guess you’re going to Paris. In the middle of the hottest, muggiest, wettest July they’ve had in a decade.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it on my account,” said Cat, and Kara could almost see her smirk. “I’m on my way to the airport now. I should arrive with nine hours to marshal my forces and prepare. I have to cut him off at the knees before he turns my Paris office into a Breitbart knockoff.”

“That sounds…awful,” said Kara. She was glad she didn’t have Cat’s responsibilities. “Anything I can do to help?”

“That’s why I’m calling. I expect this to take at least four days, and I don’t feel it’s safe to leave Carter alone that long. One night, yes. Not four. Anyway, I gave him a choice between accompanying me to Paris or staying home with appropriate supervision, and he wisely chose the latter.” There was a brief pause. “I know this is short notice so feel free to say no if you don’t want to–”

“Yes,” said Kara, interrupting her ex-boss.

“Yes, what?” asked Cat, clearly flummoxed. 

“Yes, I want to hang out with the coolest kid in town for four days while you’re off battling fascists in France,” she said. “I have plenty of time.”

“You make it sound like I’m storming Normandy beach,” she said ruefully. “Thank you, Kara. Carter will be thrilled and I’ll be able to focus that much more knowing he’s safe. I’ll text you when I land to see if you need anything–”

“Cat, I was your assistant for how many years? Let me answer that for you - long enough that your doorman still sends me a Christmas card every year. You go deal with whatever’s going on there. I got this.” Kara glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to her, then lowered her voice to add, “But a text letting me know you got there okay would be nice.”

“I think I can manage that. Thank you again, Kara. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. Once again, you’ve come to my rescue.”

“Anytime, Cat. You know I’m always happy to help.”

At half past five, Kara unlocked the door to the penthouse, juggling her messenger bag, an overnight bag, her purse, and three large everything pizzas from her favorite pizzeria.

“Carter?” she called, surprised when he didn’t greet her at the door. 

“Just a minute!” he called. She heard him muttering apologies to someone, then the clatter of plastic against plastic. “Sorry!” he said, hurrying into the kitchen as she put the pizzas on the island. “Yes! Pizza!” he cheered, momentarily distracted by the food. Kara smiled at him. 

“Minecraft with your friends?” she asked knowingly.

“Well, Halo now, but yeah,” said Carter. “I wasn’t expecting you so early. Mom doesn’t usually come home until seven or eight.”

“Your mom has way, way more to worry about than I do,” said Kara. “All I have to do is write articles that my boss never prints. Your mom has an international media empire to run. One of those things definitely takes longer to do.” She winked at him. “I’m going to put my stuff in the guest room - the blue one on your mom’s side. Go ahead and eat if you’re hungry. I’ll catch up.”

She returned to the kitchen only to find it empty. She found him chowing down in the media room, scrolling through the TV’s many options. 

“Do you wanna watch something?” asked Carter.

“You pick,” said Kara, plopping down next to him on the couch. “This is your summer break and your house. I’m just here to help your mom worry less.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “I think she might send you with me to Poly,” he groaned. “I don’t know why she thinks I can’t stay here by myself for a couple of days. It’s not like I would raid her bar, and if I was stupid enough to send a party invitation to my entire high school, only five people would show up.” He sulked. “It’s like she doesn’t trust me or something.”

Already on her third piece of pizza, Kara abandoned it instantly and sat up. “It’s not you she doesn’t trust, Carter, it’s the world,” she said, frowning. “Your mother’s a household name. That kind of fame makes her and anyone she loves a target for people who would think nothing of hurting her or you. You know as well as I do how much hate mail she gets on a daily basis.” Kara put her hand on his shoulder. “She just wants you to be safe.”

“Is that why she sent you to stay with me?” he asked. Looking down, he quietly added, “Because you’re Supergirl?”

Kara froze for a second. Her training battled briefly with her relief. Relief won.

“I know it’s silly that we don’t talk about that - especially your mom and I. I think she’s known from the very first day.” She took a deep breath. “But no, that’s not why she ‘sent’ me. She didn’t send me at all; she asked me. And I said yes because I want to be here. Hanging out with you isn’t a job, Carter, it’s a privilege. One I spent a lot of time re-earning.”

Carter chuckled. “Yeah, she was pretty mad about that train thing.”

“Believe me, I remember.” Kara’s eyes went comically wide behind her glasses, making Carter laugh. He went back to his dinner and searched for something to watch. 

She was just about to take another bite of her dinner when Carter spoke up again. “Will you guys talk about it now?” he asked, glancing her way. “You know, about the Supergirl stuff?”

Kara put the half-piece of pizza down again. “Maybe. Why?”

“‘Cuz I think you should talk about it,” he said, starting an episode of Stranger Things he’d already seen. “I think you should talk about all the things you don’t talk about.”

Just after ten, while they were still watching TV, Kara’s phone buzzed. It was the text she’d requested.

Kara quickly typed a message back.

Cat’s reply came just as quickly.

Kara knew Cat had typed the first thing that had popped into her travel-weary mind, that the words didn’t mean any more than what they said, but she couldn’t help imagining them a different way - one that made her ache. 

She thought for a long time about whether or not to send the first thing that had popped into her head, knowing she couldn’t claim exhaustion or anything else if it fell flat. 

“In for a penny…” she muttered to herself, typing her reply.

The pause from Cat’s side of the world was nerve-wracking. When the flickering ellipsis finally appeared, Kara closed her eyes in relief. 

Kara tapped out a reply, turned off her phone, and went back to working on her article. A mixture of adrenaline, pride, and nervousness fueled the grin on her face. The text she’d sent read:

At 3:30 am, Kara’s phone buzzed on the bedside table, waking her from a too-brief sleep. 

Ask and you shall receive, she thought as she answered.

“Cat?”

“I’m sorry it’s so early there,” Cat said. “This is the first break I’ve had all day.”

Kara grimaced. “Is it going well?”

Cat scoffed. “Let’s just say both sides have agreed to a brief ceasefire so we can lick our wounds. This was not a case of striking while the iron was hot. Jean-Louis and his team came prepared.”

“Oh no.” Kara sat up against the headboard. “Can you stop it before it goes too far?” 

“I wish I could say yes. If I could, my pilots would be filing a flight plan home as we speak.” She paused to choose her words carefully. “I’m reasonably sure I can save three of his four targets. Our lawyers are verifying the complaints now. The fourth is on his own. I wish I’d discovered his little secret. Id’ve ousted him myself.”

“What did he do?”

“Twenty-five years ago, he and nine others were named in a sexual harassment suit. He was one of three found liable. Since he was the highest ranked and the other two reported to him, he received the largest fine and he alone had to pay the punitive damages - to the tune of $85 million.”

“Okay, gross. How’d the background checks miss that?”

“That’s one of the things we’re looking into,” Cat replied darkly. “The possibility that he bribed someone on the board hasn’t been eliminated yet. If he did and it was Jean-Louis, that would put an end to this farce.” She sighed audibly. “But enough about my day. How was yours? How’s Carter?”

“Asleep, I hope. But good.” Kara worried her lip, wondering if she should tell Cat about their earlier conversation. “He made some assumptions about why I was there. Not good ones.”

“Like?”

“That you’d sent me to stay with him - like a work assignment. He wondered if it was because of my - um - other job.” Cat said nothing. “Everything’s good,” Kara barreled on, hoping she hadn’t just fucked up. “I mean, we worked it out and he’s okay. I– I just thought you should know. In case he mentions it when you get home.”

Still, Cat said nothing.

“Cat?”

“He’s so brave,” Cat said finally, sounding defeated. “Much braver than I am. I envy that in him.”

Kara frowned. “Braver? Cat, what–”

“I have to go now, Kara,” said Cat, interrupting her. “Tell Carter I’ll text him when I can.”

She hung up and left Kara staring at her phone.

In August, a member of the team Cat had assigned to the footage from the attack on Supergirl in May requested a meeting.

“May I?” asked the young woman, indicating she wanted to air-drop something to the largest of the televisions on Cat’s media wall. Her name was Raminder Bhatti from film editing. She’d only been with CatCo for two years.

“Of course,” said Cat, steeling herself. She’d cried the last time she’d seen this footage. Granted, it was in the safety and comfort of her home, but she didn’t want a repeat performance here. Especially not in front of an employee.

Luckily, it was a small clip taken from before the shot that had knocked Kara out of the sky. 

“The three suspects are closest to the camera that took this footage here,” said Raminder, pausing the clip. “Two things caught my eye when I blew it up.” She air-dropped a still frame to Cat’s TV. “One, the suspects are human, or meta-humans who can’t fly without an external power source.” She used the laser pointer on the remote to highlight several gray areas. “This apparatus is what allows them to fly.”

Impressed, Cat asked, “And the second thing that caught your eye?”

“This,” said Raminder, returning the clip and advancing it until the smallest of the suspects turned just enough to allow the morning sun to reflect off of something on the back of her predictably black one-piece outfit. “At first, we thought it was a structural element of what we believe is a re-engineered diving suit, but it looked too deliberate, too stylized for that.”

“What do you think it is?” asked Cat, more than impressed now. Now, she was wondering exactly how far up the chain she could promote Raminder Bhatti based on this meeting alone.

It looked like a capital T to Cat but one that had been graphically designed.

“I think it’s a logo,” said Raminder. “I don’t know what of - we did an extensive image search and came up emptyhanded. But we found one it’s similar to. Disturbingly so.” She added an image next to the one from the footage. “If you take the L from this logo and flip it vertically, duplicate it, and then flip the duplicate horizontally…” She showed a short animation of what she was describing. “And when you put them together…” 

The two reversed Ls backed up next to each other to create a T that looked almost exactly the same as the one from the footage. The only thing it was missing was the long sharp point at the bottom of the stem of the letter. 

Cat recognized the source logo, of course. L-Corp, the widely-focused, multi-level international corporation run by the Luthor family in Metropolis. Lex Luthor was currently the CEO of L-Corp. He was also Superman’s nemesis.

She looked up at Raminder. “This is good work,” she said. “So good that I want to meet with you, your immediate supervisor, and your department head at the end of the week to discuss your career goals and how I can help you reach them. Set it up with Eve.” 

Surprised, Raminder stammered out, “Th-thank you, Miss Grant.”

Cat rose and walked Raminder to the door. “Keep the information about the logo need-to-know for now. At least until we can verify a connection. There were no facial views of the people you’re calling ‘the suspects,’ is that right?”

“None,” confirmed Raminder. “They may have been wearing masks.”

“Then tell your team your task is complete and have them send any reports directly to me. I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, Miss Grant. Right away.”

Cat held the door open, smiling at Raminder as she exited. As soon as the door shut behind her, she headed directly back to her desk to retrieve her phone.

“Your majesty,” said Alex when she answered. 

“Agent Scully,” replied Cat. “My team found a lead in the footage from May. I’ll send you a report later, but you need to look into L-Corp.”

“L-Corp? The mobbed-up money laundering company run by Lex Luthor, Superman’s psycho stalker?”

“Yes,” said Cat tersely. “One of my eagle-eyed employees spotted a logo. She couldn’t find a connection to any known organization, but it looks very similar to L-Corp’s logo. You’ll see when I send the report.”

“I trust you, Cat. If you think there’s a connection, there probably is.” Alex swore. “That bald toad better not be setting up shop in National City hoping for a two-for-one deal. I know he has holdings here - he has holdings everywhere - but I thought he only had eyes for Kal.”

“Agreed. He doesn’t seem the type to split his focus.” Cat had a hard enough time focusing on CatCo and Carter. Adam, in Metropolis, always got short shrift. Thinking about Adam gave Cat an idea. “Does Lex have any brothers?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Neither did Carter until Dirk Armstrong discovered my twenty-one-year-old secret,” said Cat pointedly. Alex swore again.

“I’ll put a team on that today,” she said. “But hey, speaking of siblings, what happened between you and Kara? She’s been moping around here for weeks.”

Caught off guard, Cat bristled. “What makes you think it has anything to do with me?” 

“Because when I asked her if it did, she nodded. Kara and I don’t keep things from each other. Well, not anymore.” 

Cat closed her eyes. 

“She wouldn’t tell me what happened, though,” Alex went on. “And you don’t have to either, but if there’s any way to fix it, will you? She looks like someone turned off the sun. My people are getting contact-depression from her.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Cat, knowing full well she wouldn’t do a thing. She and Kara hadn’t spoken to each other since that call in July and she intended to keep it that way. No matter how hard it was or how much it hurt.

September passed in a blur during which Alex’s team discovered that Lex Luthor did, indeed, have a sibling, though it was a sister, not a brother. 

Lena Walsh, half-sister of Lex and former protégé of Max Lord, had broken ties with Lord Technologies at the beginning of the year. According to the dark web, she’d started a shadow corporation called Terminus shortly afterward and - trading on contacts she’d made through Lord and the Luthor name - began a weapons research and development company. 

The funding for the company appeared to come from - of all places - Lillian Luthor, mother of Lex and widow of the inimitable Lionel Luthor. She ran the money through a host of dodgy LLCs and offshore accounts, of course, and they wouldn’t ever be able to prove it, but her name was the only one that had come up twice in the DEO’s investigation. 

Alex now had two objectives. The first and most important was to analyze the substance used to paralyze Kara. Nothing on Earth should have been able to do that. They needed to know what it was and how to counteract it, and they needed to know now. 

They’d lucked out the first time and Alex was painfully aware of that. The effects of whatever it was had only lasted twenty minutes or so. Not long enough to kill Kara. Not by a long shot. 

Alex’s second objective was to find Lena Walsh’s lab, something that was proving to be much harder than she’d expected.

Kara had another encounter with the three Terminus operatives at the end of the month, and it went pretty much as the first one had gone except their shot missed. 

After analyzing the sample retrieved from the dart, Alex realized what the assholes were doing. The concentrations of several still-unidentified components were slightly different. Terminus was testing a second-generation formula, and Kara was their lab rat.

Cat and Carter had a rare argument after watching the footage of Kara’s latest encounter with Terminus on the evening news. It boiled down to whether Cat should tell Kara about her feelings, with Carter an emphatic yes, and Cat an equally emphatic no. 

They ended in a stalemate.

One Friday in October, Kara sat at her desk in the bullpen and played her 500th round of solitaire on her computer. She didn’t feel like doing much else. It had been over two months since Cat had last spoken to her, which was bad enough, but Kara was certain it was her fault.

That ill-advised attempt at flirting when Cat was in Paris had backfired spectacularly, killing their friendship in the process. Oh, Kara had tried to apologize. Via text. Via telephone. 

Silence was her only reply.

She spent one whole day researching the language of flowers, thinking she might send an apology bouquet, but ended up abandoning the idea, afraid flowers would just make things worse. 

While watching the bouncing cards on her screen after yet another win, Kara noticed a shadow parked in front of her desk. She looked up, expecting to see her sour-faced boss. It most definitely wasn’t Snapper.

“Carter?” she asked, shocked to her toes. She checked the date in the corner of the screen, confirming it was still Friday. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Then panicking, she sat straight up. “Is something wrong? Is it–”

“Whoa!” said Carter, holding up his hands to stop her rambling. “It’s not like that. I mean, yeah, something’s wrong, but it’s not an emergency.” He lowered his voice. “Can I take you to lunch?” he asked. “I need to talk to you.”

“Uh…” Kara glanced into Snapper’s office. Her boss rolled his eyes at her and made a shooing motion with his hand. “Sure.” She closed her laptop, grabbed her purse, and stood. “You want to go to Noonan’s for burgers?”

“No,” he said. “I have somewhere else in mind.”

The ‘somewhere else’ was the kitchen table at his house. 

Kara hesitated at the front door, unsure whether she should go in. Things were already rocky with Cat. Would having lunch with Carter at home on a school day make it worse?

“Don’t worry,” said Carter, waving her inside. “She’s not here. She’s not even in National City. She flew up to Star City for a meeting this morning. She’ll be back tonight.”

“Okay.” Kara stepped inside. “Does she know you’re not at school? Because I don’t want her any madder at me than she is.”

Carter slipped out of his windbreaker and hung it on the back of one of the bar chairs lined up at the island. “That’s what we have to talk about–” he began, but the doorbell ringing interrupted him. “But first, I have to get the pizza. Be right back.”

“Okay, like I was saying,” began Carter, serving himself three slices from the top box when he returned. He pushed the rest toward Kara. “Mom’s not mad at you.” Seeing Kara’s disbelief, he doubled down. “I swear! She’s not mad at you. She’s– She’s mad at herself, I think.” 

“About what?” As relieved as she was to hear she wasn’t the source of Cat’s distress, the fact Cat was upset still worried Kara. 

“So…” Carter put his slice of pizza down. “See, it’s like this–” He threw his head back. “Aaaargh!” he cried. “Why is this so hard? It wasn’t this hard in third grade. We just sent–” Stopping abruptly, Carter pointed at Kara. “Stay there,” he ordered. 

Kara wasn't about to argue with him. 

Carter darted down the hall and returned a few minutes later with a tightly folded piece of printer paper. He set it on the table and pushed it toward Kara. She looked at him blankly. 

“Open it,” he said. “I should have thought of this months ago.”

Kara did as asked and began unfolding the paper. When she finished, she smoothed it flat on the table and silently read:

She read it four more times, her eyes getting rounder and rounder. 

Eventually, she looked up at Carter. 

“I don’t have a pencil,” she said apologetically.

“Shit!” He rolled his eyes at himself and ran down the hall. “You didn’t hear that!” he called. When he came back, he held out a freshly sharpened standard HB2 pencil. “Sorry.”

“Thanks,” said Kara. She took the pencil and leaned over the piece of paper, wrapping her free arm around it so that Carter couldn’t see what she was writing. When she was done, she put the pencil down and refolded the paper, careful to use the original lines. 

Staring directly into Carter’s eyes, her expression like stone, she pushed the folded note back across the table. 

Carter opened the note slowly, a little nervous now, thinking maybe he’d been wrong and Kara hadn’t been staring at his mother’s ass after all. 

Silently, he read:

When he finished, he looked up at Kara and grinned ear to ear. 

“Good,” he said, clearly relieved. “Now we can fix this once and for all.”

Kara grinned back at him and for the first time in months, she thought everything might just turn out okay. Then she remembered something from earlier. 

“Hey, you never answered my question about whether your mom knows you’re not in school today,” she said, frowning.

“You’re right; I didn’t,” he said, and he served himself another piece of pizza. 

Carter’s secret mission was in full swing by November 1st.

They'd decided on a two-pronged approach. Kara would keep a low profile but would train Eve in the little things she’d done as Cat’s assistant, things designed to make Cat’s life a little better, a little easier. Except for the M&Ms, of course. But there were other things - like what she’d done for Cat in July with the apartment - she knew weren’t happening. Every morning before anyone came in, Kara reset Cat’s desk like she used to do, checked Cat’s calendar, and emailed Eve a list of suggestions for the day. Their thought was that things going better for Cat would mean a happier Cat. A happier Cat would be more responsive to Phase Two.

Carter, in charge of Phase Two, would slowly lay the foundation for a huge ask the week before Thanksgiving. He knew he and his mother would have one of her favorite restaurants deliver their feast, and they would stay in. He would begin talking about a new kid at school, but vaguely, telling her this and that over the weeks until revealing that his new friend had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving because his parents were overseas and he was new to town. 

“He doesn’t have anywhere to go except to the cleaning lady’s house,” he said one evening at dinner. “He says she’s nice and all, but he doesn’t want to make her feel bad. It would be weird, especially because he doesn’t know her that well, and she has a big family.”

Cat frowned, disapproving. “What kind of parents leave a teenager home alone while they’re in…where did you say they were?”

“Somewhere in Spain,” he said. “I think.”

Cat pursed her lips. “That may explain it,” she said. “But won’t he feel just as awkward having dinner with us? Of course, he’s welcome to join us. I’m not about to turn a child away from our table, especially on Thanksgiving.” She took a thoughtful sip of wine. “Does he have any allergies or dietary restrictions I should know about? If so, let me know. I’ll need to call the rest–”

“Nope!” Carter grinned. “Trust me; he’ll eat anything.”

Cat narrowed her eyes at her son, suddenly suspicious. “Your ‘friend’ better not be a dog, Carter Grant. I will not be manipulated into pet-sitting someone’s neglected pet during Thanksgiving.”

Carter almost snarfed water out of his nose. “He’s not a dog, Mom,” he choked, laughing at the same time. “I promise.”

While Cat finished setting the table in the formal dining room on Thanksgiving, Carter - tasked with waiting for the restaurant delivery - paced. They’d done it. His secret mission had worked just as designed. The problem was he and Kara hadn’t thought through what would happen when Cat realized what was going on. 

“This could go really, really bad,” he muttered to himself. But it was too late to do anything about it now. Kara was probably already waiting downstairs. He’d told her to arrive fifteen minutes after the restaurant staff left the building. 

Which she did, of course. Probably to the second. 

I’m Schroedinger’s Carter, he thought. I’m both hugged and grounded as long as that door stays shut. 

“Carter?” Cat found her son’s reticence endearing. “Don’t keep your friend waiting.”

Carter glanced at his mother. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” Here goes nuthin’, he thought, and he opened the door. He and Kara had a split second to exchange glances, and they sent silent reassurances to one another. 

Cat, still amused by Carter’s nerves, looked up and opened her mouth to greet the newcomer. But instead of an awkward teenaged boy in an ill-fitting suit, as she expected, there stood Kara Danvers in a beautiful navy knee-length sheath dress adorned only with a jeweled cross-body clutch. She held a bottle of wine in one hand and a single white tulip in the other.

“Kara,” she breathed, and a thousand emotions crossed her face in the blink of an eye.

“Hi,” said Kara. Her smile fluctuated between guilty and hopeful until she looked at Carter when it settled on gratitude in an instant. “Hi, Carter. Thanks for inviting me.”

The reminder that her son had engineered this little surprise thrust Cat from her catatonia and she turned to glare at him. “You and I will discuss this later, young man,” she said calmly. “For now, take the bottle of wine from Kara and start plating dinner for us.”

Carter gulped. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly. When he reached for the bottle, Kara caught his eye and mouthed It’ll be okay. Promise. He nodded at her and headed toward the dining room. 

“As for you,” said Cat, turning her gaze upon Kara. “Would you join me on the balcony, please?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

Kara glumly followed, wondering if there was any way to salvage this disaster. She closed the balcony door behind her and turned, determined to take the heat off her partner in crime, at least.

“Please don’t be mad at Car–” she began, only to be cut off mid-sentence by Cat hurtling into her arms to kiss her. Stunned at first, Kara quickly caught up and kissed Cat back, holding her carefully in her arms, eyes falling shut when Cat deepened it, whimpering when she felt the heat of Cat’s mouth for the first time, and drowning in the taste of her, sweet and wild. 

The tulip fell to the deck, forgotten.

When they parted, Kara stroked Cat’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, her eyes wide, “but what was that?”

“It was me being as brave as my son,” Cat husked. She searched Kara’s eyes. “I want to kiss you again,” she said. 

Kara smiled. “Luckily, you have just secured the exclusive right to kiss me whenever and wherever you want,” she whispered, stealing a taste of her again. “Please note the designation ‘wherever’ includes all spatial, geographical, and anatomical locations.”

“Oh, it does, does it?” Cat tested the validity of Kara’s statement by kissing her neck, smiling against her skin when Kara gasped. “Good to know,” she added, pulling her into another slow, deep, and long-overdue kiss.

A short time later, Carter tapped insistently on one of the window panes in the balcony door. “I’m guessing neither of you cares, but dinner’s getting cold,” he announced. 

Laughter forced the two women apart. 

“We should go in,” said Kara reluctantly. 

“Yes, we should,” agreed Cat, raising an eyebrow. “You two have some explaining to do, don’t you think?”

December turned out to be the worst month for Cat and Kara to begin dating. 

Well, ‘dating’ is a stretch, thought Kara. They hadn’t told anybody other than Carter yet, and beyond a few exhilarating make-out sessions, hadn’t done much either. Take-out eaten on Kara’s couch one rainy Friday evening and a dozen or so revelatory late-night telephone conversations was the extent of it. So far.

Along with the usual busyness of the holidays, the administrative chaos of a major corporation ending a calendar year, and the staggering increase in crime that came with the month, Kara encountered the Terminus operatives for a third time. 

She managed to capture one of the three - a man who called her the most vile names - but a dart grazed her thigh in the process and sent her to the DEO for nine days, six of which had been spent in a coma.

Alex kept Cat updated, but since they hadn’t yet told Kara’s sister about their relationship - and Cat refused to do so without Kara’s permission - she had spent those nine days alternately drowning herself in her work or sitting at home with Carter, worrying. 

Released the Sunday before Christmas, Kara flew directly to Cat’s penthouse to reassure her. She ended up holding Cat while she cried and kissed the tears from her cheeks. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered over and over until they ended up in a desperate kiss sitting on the balcony’s floor. When they parted, Cat cupped Kara’s cheek in her hand. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered. 

Kara’s eyes welled with tears. “I think you have some catching up to do, then,” she gently teased, “because I’ve been in love with you for years.” She tried to show Cat just how much in love with her she was with a kiss. A hot, hungry, frenzied kiss that Kara wanted to take further, but Cat stopped her when she began to unbutton her blouse. 

“We can’t,” she said, fear in her eyes. “You just woke up from a coma, darling. You need to rebuild your strength.”

Kara protested, but Cat was adamant. They compromised and went inside to make out on the couch. Eventually, Cat, exhausted from over a week of worry, fell asleep in Kara’s arms. Kara held her, dozing with her, and thought maybe a little extra rest wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

Carter discovered them when he got home from a last-minute holiday shopping spree, rolled his eyes at them, and covered them with a blanket. 

And then just like that, it was Christmas Eve, then Christmas morning. Kara had to go to Midvale with Alex like she usually did, and Cat and Carter had their usual quiet exchange of gifts, and a stilted Face-Time call with Cat’s mother, Katherine, in Metropolis, followed by an afternoon of volunteering. 

Alex was the first to notice how on edge Kara was, and she commented on it while they watched the Charlie Brown special Christmas Eve - a family tradition. 

The sisters huddled under the same blankets just like they did every year, but Kara was restless and adjusted her position every few seconds, making Alex miserable. 

“What is wrong with you tonight?” she groused, taking another sip of her spiked hot chocolate. “You’re all twitchy and annoying!” She yanked some of the blankets back to her side. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you needed to get…” Alex turned to look at her sister with wide eyes. “...laid,” she finished lamely. 

Even in the low light, Alex could see Kara’s cheeks blazing. 

“Oh my god!” she hissed. “You do! Spill it right now! Who is it?” Alex was almost giddy with excitement. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll call Cat,” she sang. “I bet she knows. She’ll tell me, too. We’re on a first-name basis now.”

Kara stared straight ahead and burned even brighter. She didn’t dare respond. 

Alex’s smile slowly faded as she stared at her uncomfortable sister. Logic filled the vacuum left behind. 

“OH MY GOD!” she squealed. “Cat does know who it is because it’s CAT.”

“Keep your voice down,” Kara pleaded. Alex wasn’t about to do anything of the sort. 

“HEY, MOM, GUESS WHAT!” she called, expertly fending off Kara’s attempts to shush her. Eliza was in the kitchen reading with a cup of tea. “KARA HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”

“Just for that, you’re giving me another present this year,” Kara growled.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that? A gift card to Good Vibes?” Alex sniggered. She was having entirely too much fun with this little tidbit.

“WHAT WAS THAT, DEAR?” Eliza called from the kitchen. 

Alex yelled even louder. “I SAID, KARA HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” 

Kara scowled. “You’re taking Carter to Knott’s Berry Farm on Saturday and Disneyland on Sunday, and I’m taking the weekend off!”

Intrigued, Alex narrowed her eyes. “You paying?” she asked. 

“OH, THAT’S NICE!” replied Eliza absently. 

“I will pay for everything - transportation, hotel, fast passes, food, souvenirs, you name it - AND I’ll give you a thousand dollars on top if you keep your big mouth shut.”

Alex grinned. “Deal!” she said, and she stuck out her hand to shake on it. 

Kara was about to protest that it wasn’t a deal when Eliza called out again.

“KARA, BE SURE TO INVITE CAT AND CARTER TO NEW YEAR’S DINNER, WON’T YOU? WE HAVE PLENTY OF ROOM!”

Kara rolled her eyes. “OKAY, ELIZ–” she began, only realizing what Eliza had said halfway through her response. Alex looked just as shocked as Kara.

“WAIT, WHAT NOW?” they both cried.

That Thursday, Kara spent three hours in one particular store at the mall after work. She also spent over a thousand dollars and several more hours deciding which one of the items she’d bought would be Cat’s present. 

On the morning of the 28th, Alex dropped Kara off at Cat’s, teasing her unmercifully the entire way. Kara was rolling her eyes so often, she thought they might freeze that way. 

Carter opened the door already dressed, packed, and ready to go. He threw his arms around Kara as soon as he saw her. 

“This is so cool of you, Kara,” he gushed. “Mom hates Disney, but they have a Star Wars section now and I’ve been dying to see it. Thanks!”

Kara hugged him back. “You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied. He glanced hesitantly toward the interior of the penthouse. “Uh, Mom said she needed a few minutes to get ready, so…”

Now it was Alex’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, we don’t need to wait,” she said, smirking at Kara. “Besides, we have two theme parks to hit in two days. The quicker we get there, the more rides we can ride.”

“Yeah!” He grinned at Kara. “Bye! You and Mom have fun - uh - exchanging gifts.” He grinned mischievously and darted out the door. 

A bark of startled laughter ended the shocked silence. “Oh, Carter and I are going to have so much fun on this trip,” crowed Alex, following him out the door. As she was pulling it shut behind her she stage-wispered, “Merry Catmas! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Kara covered her face with her hands. “Go. Away,” she ordered through clenched teeth. Alex’s laughter echoed all the way down the hall.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Kara finally took her hands away from her face. She locked the door and walked further into the penthouse. The communal areas were empty except for an exquisitely decorated tree with a small collection of wrapped and unwrapped gifts arranged neatly beneath it.

“Cat?” she called, dropping her overnight bag by the couch in the media room. 

“Back here, darling,” Cat replied, her tone inscrutable.

Kara headed toward the sound of Cat’s voice and a pang of momentary guilt squeezed her heart as she passed the guest room she’d used in July. 

The French doors at the end of the hall led to Cat’s palatial private suite and Kara’s nerves jangled louder and louder the closer she got to them. She shook them off when she reached them and knocked lightly.

“Cat?”

“Come in,” said Cat, and Kara swung the doors open, the apprehension on her face transforming into wonderment when she saw exactly what had been keeping Cat. Candlelight flickered from every flat surface, flooding the room with golden light. Music played softly in the background - classical Christmas carols, Kara thought - and a table groaning with nibbles and noshes sat in front of the wall of windows overlooking the city. 

The grandeur of the city glittering below them was secondary, though, to the vision that was Cat Grant. She stood in the center of the room, wearing a gauzy black robe over a delicate bra and low-rise thong made of embroidered royal blue mesh and little else. She looked like a goddess. 

The goddess of sexy underwear, thought Kara, unconsciously biting her lip. Is that a thing? It should be a thing. Can we make it a thing? I’m gonna make it a thing.

Cat had the audacity to preen and blush at the same time. 

“I decided not to wrap your gift,” she said, crossing to Kara to hand her a flute of something bubbly. “Since you’re just going to unwrap it anyway.”

“Very–” Kara’s voice broke on the word. Holding a finger up, she upended the glass Cat had just given her and swallowed its contents in two gulps. Then she delicately cleared her throat. “Very environmentally friendly of you,” she said. “I - uh - I did wrap mine,” she added, glancing down at the highly unnecessary and un-Christmasy beige trench coat that absolutely no one had questioned. “But as you can see, the wrapping is reusable.” 

Cat raised her eyebrow and looked Kara up and down. 

“May I?” she asked, indicating the tie at Kara’s waist. 

Kara nodded silently but her sky-blue eyes darkened and her gaze flicked to Cat’s mouth. When she looked up again, her pupils were so dilated Cat could barely see the blue of her irises anymore. 

Draining her own glass of bubbly, Cat stowed it on her dresser, and reached for the coat’s gabardine belt, gazing into Kara’s eyes as she tugged it apart. When the coat fell open, Cat leaned forward to brush her lips across the base of Kara’s throat. At the same time, she slid her hands inside the coat, gliding them over Kara’s bare shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

She pulled away to see the gift she’d revealed, expecting another layer of wrapping to remove and gasped.

“Oh my god,” she said in a voice deepened by pure desire. For there Kara stood, in an ivory lace bra and matching thong. Double-banded silk straps held the thong to Kara’s surprisingly delicate hips and the muscles she’d admired one June morning begged to be tasted.

So Cat did just that. She leaned down to trace the tempting line of definition with her tongue before sinking her teeth into the meat of the bicep, causing Kara to throw her head back and hiss. 

Cat looked up and met Kara’s burning gaze. 

“Close your eyes,” she whispered, and when they fluttered shut, she reached for Kara’s glasses, removing them and placing them gently on the dresser with her champagne flute. She returned to Kara’s face and traced the outline of it with the softest touch. 

“I want to see you,” said Kara, and Cat saw the hunger in her voice reflected in her eyes when she opened them. 

Then everything seemed to happen at once, but slowly, like the low opening prelude to a magnificent symphony. 

Cat continued her light caress along the curve of Kara’s jaw until she caught Kara’s chin in her fingertips, and held it still. Eyes wide open, she brushed her lips against the corner of Kara’s mouth, then promptly did it again, adjusting her angle so she could feel more of those silken lips against hers.

Breathlessly and never taking her eyes from Cat’s, Kara tentatively responded, nuzzling her and pressing softly against the lips seeking hers. Astonished by the strength of the anticipation vibrating through both of them, they pulled back and stared at one another, a fermata reverberating between them in an orchestral suite of unexplored desire, before clashing together again like cymbals in a kiss that changed everything between them in an instant.

Frantically, Cat shucked out of the filmy half-robe and Kara carried her to bed, kicking her strappy sandals off as she went. Their kiss became kisses, each bolder than the last, until Kara lowered Cat to the bed. 

“I want to see you,” Kara repeated, and together they removed the bits of lace and mesh still between them. Kara drank in the sight of Cat until it overflowed in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She trembled in Cat’s arms.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I never thought–” She shook her head, refusing the melancholy path. “I want to touch you,” she told her instead, the simple truth. “I want to give you what you’re giving me, what you’ve always given me. I want you to feel the way I feel when I’m with you. I want you to feel how I feel right now.”

Cat answered in silence, with deep kisses and long, lovely caresses. They explored each other with the aching adoration of a violin concerto played larghissimo, and when they neared the crescendo, Kara whispering, “I want to be inside you,” Cat held Kara’s wrist and guided her there, opening beneath her, welcoming her in, and whispering back to her. 

“You always have been, darling.”

Later, the hunger of their desire sated for the moment, Kara laughed as Cat tried to feed her grapes over her shoulder, missing Kara’s mouth more often than not. 

“I’m glad these are green grapes,” groused Cat glancing at her all-white bedclothes. “You know, this would be so much easier if I were sitting beside you rather than in your lap.” 

“Easier, yes,” replied Kara grinning, “but not nearly as much fun.”

“We’ll have to get up eventually,” Cat said affectionately. “Grapes and left-over Christmas candy is nowhere near enough food to keep your strength up. You’re still recuperating.”

“And just what do I need to keep my strength up for,” asked Kara cheekily. 

Cat smirked. “I have a few ideas about how we can spend the rest of your weekend off,” she said. 

When she didn’t elaborate, Kara frowned. “Are you going to send me a list or something?” she asked.

“Oh, darling,” purred Cat, turning to give Kara a grape-flavored kiss. “In this house, we follow writers’ rules - we show, we do not tell.” She looked into Kara’s eyes and upside-down, Kara could see Cat’s demeanor soften. “Except to tell you how much I love you,” she said softly. 

“I love you, too, Cat,” said Kara. Unable to resist, she added, “Just so you know, you can also show me how much you love me. You don’t even need to practice; you’ve been doing it all day.”

Cat rolled her eyes. “What have I gotten myself into?” she wondered, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Kara pretended to give the question serious thought. “The best power couple since Thelma and Louise?” she ventured.

Cat chuckled. “As long as you don’t plan to drive us off a cliff…” 

Kara leaned down very close to Cat’s ear and stage-whispered, “I don’t know if you know this, Cat, but I can fly.”

“Can you?” Cat held another grape over her shoulder. “I learn something new every day.”

“Do you know the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” asked Kara.

Cat raised both eyebrows. “African or European?” she asked. 

Kara laughed. “Oh, you’re good. You’re very good.”

“I am, aren’t I?” replied Cat, pleased with herself.

Meanwhile, at Knott’s Berry Farm…

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll have you arrested,” croaked Alex. She was leaning over a brick-walled planter where she’d just horked up practically everything she’d eaten throughout the day onto an unfortunate but well-maintained boxwood.

Carter leaned against a handy tree, eating his third bag of cotton candy that hour. 

“Don’t worry, Aunt Alex,” he told her. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He paused, then asked, “Does ‘tell’ include Twitter?”

Alex held up a finger and waited for another wave of nausea to pass. 

“It includes all forms of social media,” she said finally, adding, "Also, all published or broadcast media, and every blogging/vlogging app or website currently on the Internet and all such entities that may appear on the Internet in the future.” She burped, then winced. “In perpetuity,” she added. 

“Aww, no fun,” said Carter, frowning. “You almost done?” he asked. “I’m hungry. I thought I saw a chili dog place back by the river rapids ride.”

Alex’s ability to threaten his life while retching impressed him no end.

“Best Christmas ever,” he whispered to himself.

fin