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Stifling her groan of frustration, Cat taps her foot, hoping to hurry the woman in front of her. How the gas station in this town doesn't take cards she'll never understand, and the added delay now isn't helping. What's supposed to be a quick stop for money has turned into a ten-minute wait as the stranger handles her business. And now she's chatting with the teller.
Sure, this is a small town, with small-town values and habits. But dammit, Cat's a big city type who needs to make a withdrawal before she dies of old age.
Checking her watch and deciding five minutes of patience won't kill her, Cat decides to be generous. She's not in National City right now. She can't play by National City rules.
Just before the five minutes have passed, and long after Cat's learned too much about the teller's grandmother, the door opens behind her. Expecting another small town citizen here to join the mindless conversation, she turns to make sure they know she's next in line.
And freezes in place.
The men entering the building might be from this small town, but they're definitely not here for the conversation. Not with all three holding guns and empty bags, masks completely covering their faces.
Of all the fucking days...
"You two, down. Toss your cell phones over there," the man in front says, and Cat doesn't bother arguing.
Any other day, maybe. But not when she can hear an edge in his voice that speaks to some kind of instability. Temper, maybe. Or drugs. Whatever it is Cat knows arguing won't do anything but get her killed.
When the blonde from in front of her hesitates, Cat grabs her arm and pulls until she gives in. "Don't be stupid," she hisses, shrinking back from where the men are gesturing at the teller. "They're here for money, not us."
"But-"
"Shut up over there!" One of the gunmen has noticed them talking, and Cat shrinks back from the gun being waved in her direction. "Keep quiet and we won't have to hurt you."
He doesn't seem as unhinged as the first man, but Cat nods silently anyway. Just because he's more reasonable doesn't mean he's safe. He's still an armed gunman robbing the bank.
"I should stop them," Cat hears, turning her head to see the woman glaring at the gunmen as they pass their bags to the teller for her to fill. "Oh Rao, I should stop them."
"If you try you'll be shot," Cat hisses, keeping an eye on the robbers as she wonders what the woman is going on about. "And between you and me, I'd rather not be shot because of your heroics."
"You'd be in no risk, Miss..."
"Cat Grant. And like hell I wouldn't be. There are three of them and one of you, and they're the ones with guns. Just sit still and hope they forget about us."
"Cat, don't worry. I promise you'll be safe." The woman sounds oddly sure of herself, and against all logic, Cat relaxes. If anyone asked she'd never be able to explain why, but somehow the words don't sound trite or empty. Instead, they're comforting. "I'm Kara, by the way."
Cat decides against answering when she notices one of the men looking their way. Their conversation had been barely a whisper, but if the gunmen thought they were planning something the situation could go from bad to worse in a heartbeat.
Looking down and only glancing at the robbers every few seconds, Cat to regain her old ability to blend into the background and go unnoticed. It's been years, and she's out of practice, but she's never needed the skill more.
Finally, the bags are full, and no shots have been fired. Taking a deep breath and hoping that means this is almost over, Cat chokes a little when she hears sirens in the distance. They're closing fast, and it's clear the men hear them too.
"Dammit, who the hell called them?" the first man yells, leaving the cash to run for the door. "We should've been long gone by the time the cops showed up."
Shrinking back, Cat has a bad feeling when he goes quiet for a moment. The sirens are loud enough she knows the police are only seconds away, which means he's been backed into a corner.
"We had eyes on the teller the whole time," the third man points out, the one Cat hadn't heard yet. "You and me, we watched her empty the drawers."
"That means it's one of those two," the first man finishes the thought, looking towards Kara and Cat. And even with his face covered, Cat can see the anger in his eyes.
"No, I was watching them, no one called." The second robber, the one Cat thought sounded reasonable earlier, tries to defend them, but Cat has a bad feeling it won't be enough.
"Someone sure as hell did. And it wasn't the one filling the bags, which means it's one of the ones sitting there watching everything."
A gun is suddenly pointed Cat's way, and she tenses, clutching Kara's arm in terror. She can't think, much less move, sure she knows what comes next.
"Hey, we can keep them as hostages!" the second man tries.
And if the police were further away, it might have worked. But the squealing tires outside mean the gunner's time is up, and with it goes what remains of his composure.
"We still have the teller, and this way they know we mean business," he says, and Cat sees his finger start to close around the trigger.
Suddenly there's a warm body covering hers, pressing her to the ground as a gunshot echoes around the small room. She can feel the jerk of the body against her with each shot that rings out, and Cat lets out an involuntary scream of fear as her brain catches up to what just happened.
Kara had kept her promise. Cat was safe, but what did that mean for her rescuer?
Everything is a blur after that, but Cat dimly registers glass breaking and people shouting around her. The police are clearly moving in, and Cat finds herself cursing them for taking so long. If they'd just moved a little faster, maybe Kara wouldn't have...
"Cat, I think we're clear now," Kara says from above her, and Cat jerks in shock.
"Kara! I thought they'd shot you!" The depth of her relief surprises Cat, but she's too emotionally drained to question it. Right now, she has other things to focus on.
"He must have missed," Kara says, sitting up carefully so Cat can move.
And even if Cat hadn't felt the way Kara jerked with each shot, she'd know that was a lie. It's clear in the way Kara doesn't look at her as she speaks, in the way her words sound more like a question than a statement. And the room is tiny. The man couldn't have been more than five feet away from them when he took the shots.
But pushing won't accomplish anything, not with police heading their way. There are statements to give, likely medics to endure, and who knows what else. All Cat knows is there are likely to be dozens of people around for the foreseeable future.
Through all the mess, Cat keeps careful track of where Kara is. Once they're both free of the cleanup, she can get some answers.
The medics clear them both soon after the police release them, and Cat moves quickly to Kara's side before she can leave. "I'd like to treat you to dinner for saving me," she says bluntly, spelling out her intentions.
"I didn't really save you," Kara argues, fiddling with her glasses. "Like I told you, he must have missed. I probably made it worse, pushing you into the ground like that."
She's still lying, and Cat knows it. And any other time, she'd push. She'd find the story and go after it with everything she could.
But something about Kara makes that impossible. The woman isn't a story. But she is someone Cat wants to know better.
"Being willing to save me, then," Cat concedes readily. She's a much better liar than Kara, and she can see the tension leave her frame with the words. "And regardless, I'd like to have dinner with you."
Kara looks up at her in surprise, eyes widening as she realizes Cat is serious. "You, I mean, you want to have dinner with me?"
"Of course. I live an exciting life, but it isn't often I meet a beautiful woman willing to risk her life for me," Cat teases, taking half a step closer to Kara and waiting to see if her move will be matched.
It is, Kara stepping closer as well until there are only a scant few inches between them. "I know what you mean. It's not often I meet a gorgeous woman worth risking my life for."
Cat doesn't know if it's lingering adrenaline fueling the strength of her interest, but she's not going to question it. Even if adrenaline is involved, she's well aware of her type and Kara fits even without today's excitement. That she'd saved Cat's life? That's just a very fortunate bonus.
"So tell me, Kara. Is there a decent Italian place in this town?"
"Not really, but I make a mean manicotti if you're willing to stick around while I cook." The invitation is clear, and Cat's already mentally revising her schedule to accommodate the additional delay.
"That sounds perfect. Lead on, Supergirl."
So much for the quick stop, but at least this delay promises a pleasant ending.
Several, if Cat is any judge...