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“The abridged version, please,” was a phrase Kara Danvers got used to hearing from Cat Grant when she first started working for her. It usually meant that she was rambling on too much for Ms. Grant and needed to get to the point. No extraneous details, no excuses, just the facts, just the purpose of why she was talking to her boss and interrupting her busy day.
The better she got at being direct, the less she heard it, but every so often she’d forget or get so caught up in her emotions that she’d slip up and she’d get a reminder to give “the abridged version, Kiera,” in tones that varied from sharply annoyed to mildly amused, depending on Ms. Grant’s mood.
She noticed that Supergirl never got told to give the abridged version when she spoke with Ms. Grant. In fact, those conversations were often lengthy and Ms. Grant seemed to want all the details she could get, even if there was rambling or if she wandered off the subject matter at hand. She encouraged it even.
In the beginning it caused Kara to slip back into the rambling at work as a result, not used to separating her identity as Supergirl from her identity as Kara Danvers yet, and got her more than a few sharp reprimands and reminders of, “I want the abridged version!” along with some additional commentary about her knowing better before she started strengthening the mental walls between her two selves.
Somewhere along the line though, Cat stopped being as firm about the line. It happened gradually as she was developing her theory about Kara as Supergirl, something Kara only realized after the fact. She was lulled by the change because it made it easier to be wholly herself and she stopped paying as much attention as she should have, which was something of a mistake with Cat Grant, journalist and CEO as her boss.
After Cat came out with her theory, and having to call J'onn in to help undo that mess, Kara got her guard back up and tried not to fall into the patterns that showed how closely the lives of Kara Danvers and Supergirl overlapped. She didn't think she was entirely successful, but at least Ms. Grant didn't push the issue, much, after that.
And it was "Ms. Grant" Kara constantly reminded herself. She had to develop her own boundaries too and remember who she was dealing with at all times, and not let herself sink into confidence boosting conversations either brusquely given in the middle of the day in Ms. Grant's well-lit office or gently provided on a moonlit balcony late at night. Kara wasn't sure which setting and type she liked better but if both was an option she was taking it.
She missed Cat when she left. She was angry, moody, and hostile about it to anyone who questioned the shift in her temperament, blaming it on anything and everything except the fact that Cat Grant was missing from her life and she felt incomplete. She felt abridged in a way she hadn't been since before she'd come out as Supergirl. Somehow, even keeping the two parts of her life separate, Cat Grant had been one of the links that tied them together, that linked them, that bridged them in a way that didn't make Kara feel like she had to hide half of who she was all the time. And Kara missed that.
The few interactions they'd had since Cat had gone to be White House press secretary had been short and meaningful, but the wall between them had been one of mutual understanding. Cat wouldn't acknowledge what she knew and Kara wouldn't acknowledge that she knew Cat knew. It was a complicated and intricate dance of politeness and for some reason Kara couldn't stop thinking about how things like how she knew when to refill Cat's bowl of M&Ms or how Cat always knew what to say to help when it was most needed. They kept their distance. The bridges not burned between them, but uncross-able all the same.
But now...now, Cat Grant was standing in her apartment, having "just dropped by to say hi" and Kara could hear her heartbeat racing and somehow, somehow she knew, but couldn't find the words. Not the right ones anyway. But that was the thing about Cat, she could find the right words when others couldn't. It was what made her such a brilliant journalist. She sat on the couch and smiled at Kara and asked, "How are you?" and when she saw the hesitation as Kara tried to sum everything up succinctly she encouraged her gently with a sentence Kara had never heard from her before: "The unabridged version, please."
And Kara couldn't help but smile as she crossed the distance to join Cat and share all.