Chapter Text
“You’re downsizing the Tribune?” Kara asked, unable to hide her shock. “But that was your first acquisition.”
Cat kept her head down, reading whatever had caught her attention. Using a tiny blast of superspeed, Kara sent an emailing cancelling the therapist appointment as requested.
“Go see if the new art director has the layout ready.”
Kara knew better, she should have turned and left without complaint. But the Tribune was a huge part of CatCo. What if the whole company was in trouble and Kara just didn’t know it yet?
“It’s not that I don’t see your frown, it’s just that I don’t care enough to ask why it’s there,” Cat continued, barely glancing up at Kara. She looked as composed as ever in her blue-and-black dress, so signs of sleeplessness or exceptional stress. Kara was perfectly aware of every red flag by that point.
“All those people, they’re going to lose their jobs. What’s going to happen to them, to their families?” Kara still had time to back down, but she couldn’t resist the nuclear option. “They don’t have to downsize at the Daily Planet.”
That did it. Cat was off and ranting about Metropolis. Sometimes Kara wanted to blurt out that not only did she know Superman, but she was actually his cousin, and oh by the way? Lois Lane’s corny boyfriend? Totally his human alter ego. The temptation was as strong some days as Kara’s desire to eat peanut butter cups, which frankly made it a miracle she hadn’t blown the whole thing just to shut Cat up on one of her worst days.
“You want to save the Trib? Go find me a hero, Kiera.” The mangled pronunciation barely bothered Kara anymore, but she saw the opportunity to get out of there before she said something inappropriate.
“I’ll go chase the new art director,” she said. “And Ms Grant, please don’t forget your car will be downstairs at 7, and the runway time is booked for 8. The pilot specifically requested--”
“The pilot works for me, and I’ll be there when I decide I’m ready,” Cat replied. “Now those layouts aren’t going to fetch themselves. Chop, chop.”
Just a few more hours, Kara told herself as she tried not to rush to the stairwell. Then Cat would be off to her media conference in Geneva, and Kara would have the rarest thing of her entire CatCo career: an entire three-day weekend without having to run around after Cat Grant.
“How are you celebrating your weekend of freedom?” Winn asked as soon as Kara returned and handed off the layouts to Cat. “Only I was thinking that tonight--”
“I have a date,” Kara said, cutting him off. She tried to sound excited, but it was honestly just another dating app match she didn’t have a good feeling about. “That reminds me, I should call my sister. I need to borrow something to wear.”
***
Kara sat alone at the table, watching her date hit on the hostess over at the door. Another crash and burn. He hadn’t even asked her any questions, other than where she was from. Hardly scintillating stuff. Kara was aware she didn’t show herself off like some of the supermodel types who seemed to be populating that bar, but she thought she looked pretty decent most of the time. Like Alex said, she couldn’t even get pimples. So much for a genetic advantage.
Instead of waiting to see if her date would even bother to come back for her, Kara turned her attention to the television screens above the bar. Instead of the usual baseball game or whatever, they all flipped to CCN. Figured she couldn’t get a break from all things CatCo even on her time off.
The sound was almost all the way down, but Kara was able to pick it out of the general hubbub with her superhearing. The screens changed to a shot of vast, dark skies over the Otto Binder Bridge. It didn’t seem like there was traffic, so why was a live broadcast unit there? If someone had screwed up again, that would be the start of Kara’s week completely thrown into disarray.
“We have reports a private plane has been experiencing difficulties since shortly after takeoff from Wayne Private Airfield. Social media updates suggest there was some kind of explosion, and we’re getting… yes, I can confirm that the jet in question is the CatCo Jet. No reports at this time as to who might be on board.”
Kara felt her stomach do a strange somersault. It felt almost like when she was a kid on Krypton, when she could actually get sick. Cat was on that jet. Cat, her pilot who wanted her to be punctual, and worst of all, Cat’s teenage son, Carter.
It wasn’t really a choice in that moment. Kara stood, taking off the jacket she hadn’t bothered to remove up until that point. Slipping out into the alley felt as natural as breathing. A long, deserted space where she could build up a head of steam. Getting her bearings, she took a running start.
Nope. Nothing. An enthusiastic bounce that took out a trash can with her trailing leg. Focus, Kara told herself. Focus and remember how it felt to fly.
Her second attempt caught perfectly, and she whipped through the cool evening air towards the bridge like a missile. The closer she got, the more apparent Cat’s plane was. Listing badly to one side, one engine clearly was engulfed with flames. On a huge jet that would be terrifying enough, but Kara felt a fresh surge of panic at how close that was to the compact body of the private plane.
The worst part of getting closer though? That she didn’t hear screaming. She had heard what she assumed was Cat screaming from a few hundred yards away but now, under the shrieking engines and protesting metal, audible even under the rushing winds and the sounds of the city, Kara could only hear a gentle humming sound.
A lullaby.
With her glasses tucked away in her pocket, Kara could relax her eyes and scan the plane to confirm exactly who she had to rescue. Time was ticking. The plane was getting closer to the towers on the bridge with each weakening attempt to clear them. She saw the pilot and co-pilot, yelling into radios and wrestling with the controls. They were doing all they could.
The cabin crew were strapped into their seats, two young women who no doubt thought they’d landed the route of a lifetime, hopping around the globe with a billionaire media mogul. But the main cabin had only two occupants: Cat, out of her seat and kneeling on the floor in front of Carter, shielding his braced form with her own.
“Just hold on, sweetheart,” Cat murmured, interrupting the comfort of her lullaby just as Kara’s hand first touched the straining metal of the plane’s hold. “Someone will come to our rescue. And if not, you remember the safety drill, don’t you?”
Kara didn’t hear if Carter replied. The plane took a dangerous lurch lower. They were out of time. Where to get a grip seemed impossible to tell, so Kara improvised. She punched with one hand and then the other into the underbelly of the plane, levelling it off.
Step one. Now to slow the damn thing down. Not easy when her own speed outstripped it by at least three or four times, but Kara took the bucking, breaking plane and slowed it to more of a glide. The pilots whooped in relief, and she started steering it down towards the huge park by the bridge. The few onlookers saw the plane tilt towards them and started to scatter. They’d made room to bring it down safe.
“What’s happening?” Carter asked, and for once Cat didn’t seem to have a snappy answer for the occasion. She didn’t say another word until Kara laid the plane on the wet grass in Binder Park, pulling herself up on the undamaged wing to catch her breath for a moment. Her first mistake. It gave Cat a clear sightline right to her.
“Mom! There’s someone out there! Is that… did a girl just catch our plane?”
Cat started to knock on the window with the palm of her hand. She clearly didn’t expect anyone outside to be able to hear her. “Hello! Who are you? Can we get this door open?” She yelled that last part to the cabin crew, who ran to comply in a panic. Kara couldn’t allow a closer look. Breath caught or not, she needed to get the hell away from that plane. Then Cat caught her eye again and Kara could have sworn she saw a split-second of recognition.
Alex was going to kill her.