Work Text:
It’s Friday night in National City, a time for partying with friends, staying home with loved ones, and working late at one of the fastest-growing Fortune 200 Companies in the country. L-Corp may not be known for its mirth and merriment, but it more than makes up for it in innovation and stock options. Still, it’s work to live not live to work, and though the company’s young CEO didn’t seem to always know that, things in her life, things, in this case, being people (or person even though nothing has been openly admitted by either party) have begun to change her perspective for the better. However, company cultural shifts don’t happen overnight.
Stepping out of her office at L-Corp, heels clicking on the floor, Lena pauses and clears her throat. “It’s Friday night.”
Jess doesn’t lift her head, gaze still locked on the screen as she continues to type, and her expression remains unchanged. It's been a long day at the end of a long week at the end of a long month at… There’s always more than enough work for her to do, and until recently, she’s been the one dragging herself home and fretting over her boss’ even later hours. It doesn’t make the recent departure from norms unwelcome. “Yes, I was aware. There’s a calendar function in Outlook. I’m rather surprised you’re familiar with it.”
Arms crossed and eyes narrowed, Lena taps her toes. “Don’t sass me, Jessica.”
“Of course, Miss Luthor.” There’s a hint of a smirk. Lena Luthor may strike fear in the heart of stuffy old board members and other CEOs, but Jessica is well aware of Lena’s bark to bite ratio. It’s not that Lena won’t bite. Many companies have scars from misstepping, but this is an all bark moment and a bark of affection at that.
“I’m telling you that you should go home, go out, go wherever, but don’t stay here. You’re young. You have better places to be.”
“I’m young and have better places to be than at work all the time?” Now Jess does pause in her typing as she lifts her head and looks over the screen at her employer. “Oh, pot, the kettle feels accused.”
“The kettle is going to feel fired if she doesn’t get her ass out of here, Miss Attitude.”
An honest smile spreads across Jess’ face. “I’m just finishing up an email, and then I’m heading out. I’ve got to go pick up some groceries and feed Gus.”
Lena holds up a single finger. “One email.”
“I’d already be done if someone wasn’t hovering.”
“All right. All right.” Hands up, Lena backs away toward the elevators. It’s as close as Jess has ever seen Lena to surrender. Jess once saw Lena, with the muzzle of a gun pressed to her head, tell the attacker that her password was 1234FU. Sometimes it’s honestly shocking her brass balls don’t clang when she walks. As Lena reaches the elevators and pushes the button to summon one, she sticks a hand into her purse and pulls out her phone. “You do know I can hack the security cameras with this. I’ll know what time you leave.”
“I’m pretty sure you can hack the space shuttle with that.” Jess makes a shooing motion with both hands, but the threat is acknowledged.
“That was a school project.” The elevator opens, and Lena backs in, blowing Jess a kiss. “Have a wonderful weekend. Give my love to Gus. He’s just the cutest.”
Jess waits until Lena presses the button for the ground floor before replying, “Have a wonderful weekend. Give my love to Miss Danvers. She’s just the cutest.” It’s a forward move, but it’s worth the reaction.
Lena’s mouth hangs open, but before she can respond, the elevator doors close between them. Lena Luthor, speechless… Yup, definitely worth it.
Jess finishes up her email in peace. It is done relatively quickly once Lena is gone. She checks her Inbox and Lena’s for anything pressing, double-checks Lena’s schedule for the weekend and Monday, then when finally satisfied, shuts down her laptop. It takes a few more minutes for Jess to pack up and take the elevator down to the garage level where only a few other cars remain at this hour.
The echoes of Jess’ heels on concrete fill the parking garage under L-Corp as she takes the short walk to her car. One of the perks of being the Executive Assistant of the CEO is having priority parking. Still, it’s a few steps to get there, just enough that Jess falters when she realizes the person she sees sitting back casually on a car hood is sitting on her car. The woman has light brown hair put up in a neat bun, a black suit with a white shirt, shoes that are polished to a shine, a black leather tote hanging off of her shoulder, and the only piece of jewelry that Jess can see the woman is wearing is a watch because the woman checks the time on it as Jess hesitantly draws nearer.
“Can I help you?” Jess asks even as she slides her hand into her purse and grabs her mace, uncapping it but not revealing it.
“Hello, Miss Huang. You work late even on Fridays. I appreciate that work ethic.” The woman pushes gently off the car to stand upright, but doesn’t move any further “May I call you Jessica, or do you prefer Jess?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Hands behind her back, the woman replies, “I’m Pam.”
“Pam who?”
“Pam with HR.”
“Uh-uh.” Jess shakes her head even as she looks around to make sure no one else is approaching. This situation is wrong, very wrong, and every instinct in her body is screaming for her to find a way out. She had spoken to L-Corp security on her way out, and she’s sure they can see her even now. All she needs to do is stall for a bit, make this look as awful as it feels, and someone will show up. Then she can rip them a new one for letting someone get in here in the first place. They could have gotten to Lena… Lena. First things first. Stall. “You’re not with HR. I know HR.”
“Oh, not L-Corp HR. I’m with …” Pam blinks the pause not so much dramatic as palpable. “I work for a different organization.”
“Cadmus?”
“Absolutely not.”
Jess tenses, taking a step closer and pulling out the mace, holding it at Pam with a stiff arm. They’re still more than ten feet apart. “Who do you work for?”
Pam nods. “Feisty, but I can’t tell you that yet. First, there’s paperwork.”
“Paperwork?” Bribery, death threats, maybe even some weird attempt at blackmail, though Jess is so squeaky clean you could eat off of her, but paperwork is the last thing she is expecting to hear. The civility and normalcy are off-putting.
Pam pats the bag she’s carrying. “Paperwork That’s why I’m here, for the paperwork.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Maybe this will help.” Slowly, Pam uses two fingers to pull her cellphone out of her pants pocket. She watches Jess as she does so, gaze steady on the mace that’s pointed at her face. When the phone is revealed, Pam types into it, presses something, then swipes through several options before laying the phone down on top of Jess’ car. “There. Look at that and see if that doesn’t explain things a bit.” Pam backs away.
Needing answers and wondering where the hell security is, Jess moves toward her car and hesitates by the front corner. She moves the mace to her other hand, her primary hand hovering near her purse, near her keys, even as her gaze rests on the cellphone. Curiosity killed the cat but … Jess watches Pam as she takes the phone from the car in a quick movement, her gaze flicking to the screen before returning to Pam before slowly returning to the screen and staying there.
Somewhere in the back of her head were thoughts of corporate espionage or Miss Luthor and Miss Danvers in a compromising (she’d need a raise after seeing that) position. What she was was confusing enough to make her pull her focus on this stranger and stare at the picture on the phone. On it, Pam sits behind a desk, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed. A hand with a half-eaten doughnut, pushed forward and a bit blurry, takes up too much of the screen. A smiling blonde, chipmunk cheeks no doubt from the other half of the doughnut, leans in close to Pam. The Supergirl emblem is partially obscured by the doughnut, but those blue eyes and that smile is all that’s needed to make the other person in the picture recognizable.
“This… you…” Jess holds out the phone, nodding at it with her head.
Pam just lifts her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“What’s Supergirl doing with you?” Jess finally manages to ask.
“Getting crumbs all over my desk… again.” Hand out, Pam takes two steps closer to Jess before she stops. “Are you going to mace me if I try and retrieve my phone?”
“Oh.” Fumbling a bit as she switches the phone and mace between her hands, Jess puts the mace away and holds out the phone. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Pam says as she takes her phone back, swiping the picture off the screen before sliding it back into her pocket.
“So you’re… you… You work with her?”
“In HR, yes. I’m HR for the non-existent secret government department for which Supergirl works and whose name I cannot tell you or even reveal until…” Pam pats her bag again. “Paperwork.”
If possible — it may not be — Jess’ eyes widen a bit further. “They have an HR department?”
“Does the government have an HR department?” Pam chuckles. “Oh, darling.”
“Right. That was a stupid question.”
Pam waves that away. “We’ll just put it down to shock.”
“So, why talk to me? What does this have to do with me? I’ve never even seen Supergirl.”
“Miss Huang, Jessica, Jess.” Pam nods at that. “I’m going to call you Jess. Jess, this will go much faster if you don’t play games with me.”
“But I haven’t.” Jess shrugs, her arms bent at the elbows, hands palm up. She is the very essence of innocence. “I mean, everyone in National City has seen a shadow overhead or seen her on TV. I’ve seen a streak of red and blue at Miss Luthor’s press conferences. Wait, does this have to do with Miss Luthor’s press conferences? I keep telling her to teleconference. It’s good for the environment, my blood pressure, and her life expectancy.”
Arms crossed, Pam says nothing.
“What?”
“We know you know.”
“Know what? I don’t know anything.”
“Jess, we know you know who she is. You’re not in trouble. Miss Luthor isn’t in trouble. We just need you to go over some paperwork, sign a few things, and then you can go home to Gus. He misses you.”
“But I don’t— You know who Gus is?”
“Our agents love Gus. He’s very sweet.”
Jess swallows hard. “You’ve met Gus?”
“Not me personally.” Pam pats her bag again. “I’m not a field agent. My job is ‘i’ dotting and ‘t’ crossing. So, let’s make this easier on each other. You and I will go out, have a little dinner, get a drink, and sign some things in triplicate. What do you say?”
Even as Pam smiles, a black SUV pulls up from down the way. A large man in a black suit and white shirt, his outfit is very much like Pam’s, gets out of the car front passenger’s side of the car and opens the back door.
“Our security can see this. They’ll be here any second.”
“No, they won’t.” Pam’s smile never touches her eyes. “Let’s get this done and get you home to Gus, okay?”
Jess’ gaze slides back and forth between the vehicle and Pam. “Is Gus okay?”
“Gus is fine. He’s in no danger,” Pam assures as she stands next to the open door of the SUV, her hand over the opening. “Now let’s get going. Our reservation awaits.”
<><>
It’s an average looking restaurant on the outskirts of National City. About half of the tables are filled, and there is no wait outside which seems unusual for a Friday night. Still, there’s no bar, and it’s far from the center of town, so these things likely have an effect on the place’s popularity. When Jess and Pam arrive, they are shown immediately to a table in the back. The waiter pours water for them and leaves them with menus.
“Wine?” Pam asks, holding out the beverage menu.
Head shaking, Jess sits with her arms wrapped around herself, looking around at the other diners who seem to have no interest in them. “I just want to do whatever you need from me and get home.”
“It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a nice glass of wine while you do it.” Pam looks at one side of the drink menu and then the other before placing it down on the table and then opening her dinner menu. “The fillet is fresh.”
“What?” Jess’ attention is drawn back to the other woman.
“The fillet, they caught it fresh today. I know you like fish.” Smiling as she looks up from the menu, Pam snaps it closed and puts it down on the table. “I’m more of a turf over surf girl myself, but we know what you like to eat.”
“Because you’ve been watching me.”
“Well, it’s our jobs to provide a certain level of anonymity for those within the department which shall not yet be named. Therefore we need to observe—”
“Spy, you mean you need to spy on people.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Pam shrugs, “we are spies after all.”
“Jesus Christ.” Elbows on the table, Jess puts her face in her hands. Dealing with a workaholic boss’ denial of romantic feelings for a certain someone, and the occasional assassination attempt, seem run of the mill right now. Maybe she should reconsider that wine. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“You took a job with a Luthor. This isn’t exactly the worst possible outcome.”
Jess snaps her head up. “You leave Miss Luthor out of this.”
Pam smiles and this time it looks sincere. “Jess, we both know she’s in the middle of this. Don’t worry. No one here is threatening her. If anything, we’re trying to protect Miss Luthor. Everyone likes Lena and wants to keep her safe.”
Brows furrowed, Jess asks, “You know her?”
Reaching into her bag, Pam pulls out a folder filled with paper. “Yes, but there are forms before we get into details.”
“Does Miss Luthor know you approached me tonight?”
“No, and neither does her friend.”
“Friend,” Jess repeats with a bit of a laugh though it holds no humor. “Is that what we’re calling them?”
“Officially? Yes. The paperwork details their relationship as being of a friendly but platonic nature which is…” Pam shrugs. “Things will develop in one direction or another. Either we’ll be dealing with wedding arrangements or ice cream by the vat. The betting pools are interesting on those fronts.”
“Betting pools?”
Pam pulls out a pen and taps the folder. “You should get reading. It’s mainly standard NDA verbiage. You’re familiar with it through L-Corp, but there are a few unusual terms regarding aliases and clandestine organizations. I’ll go ahead and grab us some appetizers while you read.” She signals to the waiter.
“And what if I don’t sign? What if I just get up and walk out right now?”
“In the middle of the restaurant?” Pam asks Jess, ignoring the waiter who stands there.
Jess nods. “What are you going to do? We’re surrounded by people. Are you going to stop me if I try to leave?”
Pam just holds her hand, palm up, and gestures toward the door.
Jess stands up and takes two steps toward the door when all conversation in the restaurant stops. Suddenly, every chair in the place pushes back, and every diner stands and watches Jess intently. Jess freezes in place, her head moving back and forth as her gaze goes from person to person… from agent to agent.
“Bring us the shrimp baja and the bruschetta if you would, Johnson.” Pam’s voice carries easily amid the silence.
“Sure thing, Pam,” the waiter… man dressed as a waiter replies. “Any wine?”
“Jess, any wine?” Pam asks.
Hand held behind herself, Jess steps back and feels blindly for her chair. When she’s found it, she barely manages to lower herself into her chair without falling as her legs no longer seem capable of holding up her weight. “I could use a drink.”
“Have Marty pick something,” Pam says handing over the drink menu. “He and his wife do those wine tasting trips all the time. He’s always talking about bouquets and the wine’s nose or something. Just have him grab us something nice but that won’t make J’onn snap when he sees the price tag.”
“You got it.” The waiter wanders away, leaving the ladies alone at the table.
“So, everyone here ...?” Jess stares at her folded hands on the table, but her gaze is unfocused. She vaguely remembers something in a corporate kidnapping prevention training about not going to a secondary location with an assailant. Now she’s wishing she had paid more attention.
“Jess, Jessica, look at me.” Pam waits patiently until Jess has looked up to say, “No one here will hurt you. We’re here to protect people, and we just want to count you among the people we protect, that’s all.”
“You want to protect me?”
“Honestly, yes. There are people who would kill to know what you know. We just need your signature, your authorization on a few pieces of paper, so we can speak freely. You understand the need to protect the people who can change the world, don’t you?”
Jess gives that a moment of consideration. In a way, is that really so very different than what she’s chosen to dedicate her life to? Something shifts and what has felt like a hostage situation now feels like an extension of the path she’s been traveling though a largely unexplored one. “I do.” She picks up the pen, clicking it and opening the folder. “So, where do I sign?”
“Everything is marked for signature or initial. Just take your time and read through it. You’re bright, your grades tell us that, plus we’ve seen what you can do at L-Corp. We’ll get through this by dessert.”
Jess pauses on the first page, looking up and making eye contact. “You’ve seen my grades?”
“All the way back to kindergarten. By the way, your folks are doing well. Oh, congratulations, you’re going to be an aunt. Your sister is pregnant. She’ll find out tomorrow, so don’t tell her.”
Head down, mumbling to herself, Jess starts to read again before her brain breaks.
By the time dessert has rolled around, Jess has come to the last page of the NDA. Just as Pam has said, it is mostly standard language with which she is familiar. She initials the last place and signs and dates it, shaking out her hand before clicking the pen closed and dropping it on the table.
“I think I have carpal tunnel. Haven’t you people ever heard of e-signatures?”
“You really expected to get that in an email?” Pam smiles but holds up a hand to the waiter when he approaches. “I think we’re good unless Jess here wants anything else?”
“Could I have all of my civil rights back, please?”
Pam chuckles. “Well, at least you still have your sense of humor. How’s the chocolate cake?”
“Delicious.” Jess stabs at the cake and shoves a piece in her mouth, a frown on her face. “Can I officially be told exactly what is going on now?”
“Yes, officially you can. I’m the HR Director of the DEO, the Department of Extranormal Operations. We’re the non-existent arm of the U.S. government that responds to extraterrestrial threats. Supergirl works with us, and your employer, Lena Luthor, is an outside contractor for us, though that term may be a bit loose. We’ve had a rocky past when it comes to non-terrestrial interactions, but that’s changing. The head of the DEO is a Martian by the name of J’onn J’onnz, and Alex Danvers, Supergirl’s human sister, is second in command.”
Jess puts a hand up to her mouth and just stares.
“What? What’s upsetting you now?”
“You said it.” Removing her hand from her mouth, Jess nods. “You said Supergirl’s human sister, and then you said Alex Danvers. You said it.”
“Well, yes. Supergirl is Kara Danvers.”
“Oh, my God. You said it again.”
“Jess, you knew before now. That’s why we brought you in here.”
“Well, I know I knew!” Leaning back in her chair, Jess looks up at the ceiling. “There’s a difference between knowing and saying a thing to someone else. Now it’s real. Now it’s official.” She sits upright and meets Pam’s gaze again. “How am I ever supposed to face Miss Danvers again now that I know she’s… she’s…?”
“Supergirl?”
“Oh, my God. You just keep saying it!”
“Jess, Krypton was destroyed when Kara Zor-El was twelve-years-old. She was placed into a space pod by her parents, a pod that was knocked off course by the planet’s explosion, and stuck in the Phantom Zone for twenty-six years. When her pod finally came free, she landed on Earth and was raised by the Danvers who helped then thirteen-year-old Kara to acclimate to life on a new planet, gave her the last name of Danvers, and showed her how to blend in as a human. She did so until her foster sister’s, Alex’s, plane was about to crash. That was the day Supergirl showed herself to the world. You know much of the rest except that the DEO quickly became involved with her, and she now works with our organization. However, the important part is that she is Kara Danvers. the reporter who loves doughnuts, loves her family, is kind and loyal, and has struck up an odd friendship with your employer.”
“Friendship.” Jess tilts her head to the side.
Pam shrugs. “That’s what they tell us. Are you telling me otherwise?”
Looking away, Jess shakes her head.
“That’s what we expected. Honestly, Jess, no one cares. Whatever’s going on, just make sure they keep it under wraps. The last thing we need is photos of a Super and a Luthor all over the newspaper, all right?”
“No, they wouldn’t.” When Pam stares at her, Jess nods. “Okay, I’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Perfect.” Gathering up the signed document, Pam packs it away in her bag again. “Well, I think I have everything I need unless you want another coffee.”
“No more caffeine for me, thanks. I’m already going to have enough trouble sleeping.”
“I apologize for my part in that. Being a cog in this amazing machine can be wearing on a person. I’m sorry you got caught up in the mechanics.”
Brow creased as she watches Pam finish packing the papers into her bag and pull the strap over her shoulder, Jess asks, “Do I say anything?”
Pam turns her head, eyebrows rising slightly. “About?”
“About this, about what I know.”
“Jess, you understand the whole point of an NDA is—”
“No, not to anyone else,” Jess explains quickly, hands already waving away the misunderstanding as she shakes her head, “to them, to Miss Luthors and Miss Danvers, or just to her? Do I say anything now?”
Pam’s shrug is nearly imperceptible. “That’s a good question. You can. What do you think?”
“Well, they didn’t say anything to me, and I want to respect that, respect their privacy, but this feels like a lot. It’s not so much that I have questions that I need either of them to answer. I’ve worked for Miss Luthor long enough to know that isn’t how this works. It would just be nice to, I don’t know, say some of the things rattling around inside my head out loud. I know it’s just going to get worse. Miss Danvers isn’t exactly subtle, and Miss Luthor—” Jess’ vision focuses on the small white card that’s slid across the table to her. She looks from it up to meet Pam’s gaze.
“You can talk to me,” Pam says, pulling her hand away from her business card. “You’re right; this is a lot. At the DEO, at least we have each other. You won’t have that, but you can talk to me. Just call me if you ever need to vent or whatever.”
“Call you.” Jess nods once, her gaze dropping to the business card again which she lifts slowly, almost reverently, and lays to cradle in the palm of one of her hands. “Yeah, I could do that.”
“That has my cell phone number on it. Call me any time things feel like more than you can handle on this front, they feel like more than you can handle, or there’s murder.”
“...murder?”
“You know, someone trying to kill them, someone trying to kill you over them, you ready to kill them because …” There’s that tiny shrug again. “Murder. Crumbs on my desk make me want to murder. We have a target range. I find discharging my firearm to be very therapeutic..”
“Oh, murder.” Jess slides the card into her pocket. “Well, I can guarantee you that when I think of murder, I’ll think of you.”
Pam’s smile is slow but sincere. “Thanks. I’ll have someone take you home now.”
“Thank you.” Jess watches as Pam makes her way to the front door, briefly stopping to speak to someone. Pam is almost out of the restaurant when Jess calls after her, “Wait, my car is at L-Corp!”
Pam doesn’t stop.
When the SUV drops Jess off in the driveway of her modest two-bedroom home, it’s almost anticlimactic that her Ford Focus hybrid is already in the driveway. The front door is unlocked, a few lights on, and she kicks off her shoes and makes her way into the kitchen. No loud mewing, no screams of feline mutiny, greet Jess as she wanders into the kitchen to find her cat sitting near his almost empty wet food bowl, grooming.
“Traitor.” Jess narrows her eyes at the Siamese. “I should have gotten a Doberman.”
Gus continues to groom.
Jess checks cupboards and the fridge, barely raising an eyebrow to see things restocked from the grocery list she keeps on her iPhone. She pulls a bottle out of her wine rack, uncorking it and grabbing a glass. Halfway out of the kitchen, she stops and turns around, checks in the sink, pulls open the dishwasher and looks inside there too before closing it with a shake of her head. Who knew the government did dishes. With a glass and the rest of the wine bottle in hand, she sits on the couch next to Gus who is still working on his post-meal bath regimen. She finishes most of the glass before placing it on the table and sighing loudly, the weight of the day settling on her and spilling over the sides, heavy and burdensome.
“Hey, Gus. Gus.” He’s still grooming when Jess slides him from his favorite cushion and places him in her lap, her hand running along the back of his head meeting with approval. “Gus, guess what? Kara Danvers is Supergirl.”
For several moments there is no sound in Jess’ house. Gus bumps his head into her chin with aggressive affection. The silence is broken by the thrum of the motor of the Chocolate Point Siamese as Jess scratches under his chin. For several more moments, that loud, satisfied purr is the only noise to fill their home.
Finally, Jess raises her eyebrows as she claps a hand over her mouth. Her voice isn’t much more than a whisper, but it’s intense. “Oh, fuck. Now I said it.” She breathes heavily, holding the cat close and scritching him, much to his evident joy. “Just forget I said anything, Gus. There’s a lot of paperwork.”