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The low lamp light in Cat's room engulfs them in a faint glow, making shadows dance on the bed behind Kara. The balcony door they'd came in through is ajar, letting a chilly wind pass. It's eerily quiet for a night the world had almost ended on. A night when Kara had almost lost her life, fighting both the only remaining member of her Kryptonian family, and bloodthirsty Queen Rhea. A night when after Kara returned victorious, Cat had pulled her down by her cape, and kissed her, unapologetic and desperate in front of allies and enemies alike. Kara had reciprocated just as intensely, and when the two pulled back on a shaky breath, all pretense between them had been laid to rest.
Kara had flown her home, and that was how they ended up like this; Kara's suit discarded on the floor by the bed, Cat's jacket, blouse and slacks huddled with it. She's sitting in Kara's lap, her knees propped on the bed around Kara's body, hands drifting in and out of Kara's hair. Kara trails tiny kisses down her neck, beginning with the point where her ear meets her jaw, down to her collarbone, just barely sucking there. Kara's hands rest on her back, hugging her close, but not pressing. There's no rush; Kara touches her with a softness that feels a lot like something bordering on reverence. It's only life-affirming and grateful, carries with it the knowledge that there will be time for more later. There will be time because her hero has done it and saved them again - not that there's ever been a doubt in Cat's mind.
Cat catches their reflection in the mirror above her vanity in the corner of her eye. She turns a little to get a better look, and that's when it really hits her, with Kara's mouth moving lower down her chest, that they get to have this. They're here, alive, together. They've crossed that line, put aside the charades and the doubts that had kept them from chasing this for so long. They're here and Cat thinks she wants to keep this moment forever. She tugs at Kara's hair until she raises her head to face her.
"Hand me the phone," Cat says. Kara furrows her brow but doesn't question it. She removes a hand from Cat's back and stretches it to the nightstand next to her, grabbing Cat's phone. Cat takes it and gives Kara a quick kiss in thanks.
"Have you remembered an urgent call all of a sudden-" Cat silences Kara with a finger on her lips and shakes her head, smiling.
"Look at the mirror. Look at us." Cat tilts her head in the direction of the mirror again, and Kara follows suit.
"Oh," Kara says, her breath catching in her throat. "Look at us," she reiterates, understanding what Cat means.
"I wanted to savor it," Cat says, unlocking her phone. "So," she trails off as the click of the camera sounds between them. Then Kara is kissing her, slow but open-mouthed, Cat's hand on her neck pulling her closer. Cat's thumb on the camera button continues to click, and she snaps a shot of them kissing, and another when Kara resumes her trail of bites down Cat's chest, and another when Kara unhooks her bra, and another when she lands a gentle kiss on Kara's head.
Cat dedicates a folder on her phone for the photos, and as time passes, it becomes their little tradition. Snapshots of their reflections tangled together, of Kara writhing beneath her, eyes closed, sometimes towering above her, hair falling onto her face and eyes more black than blue.
She takes the most amount of photos on nights when Kara comes back from another close call, and each time Cat revisits them in the daylight, it's her reminder that they're still here, still alive, still together.