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“Tell James that if he takes one more hour with those layouts, it’ll be me who dines with Lucy tonight while he packs up his sad little cameras from his sad little office,” Cat grits out as soon as Kara steps into the office, clipboard in hand.
Kara glances at her watch and sees that James is just twenty minutes shy of meeting his deadline.
“Right away, Miss Grant,” she mumbles, knowing that Cat is immersed in whatever she’s watching on the televisions behind her desk.
“Oh, wait,” the older woman says suddenly, swiveling in her chair to face Kara. “I can’t steal James’ girlfriend tonight. Tell him tomorrow, or at the very latest, this Friday at eight o’clock.”
“Tell James that Miss Grant will steal his girlfriend if he doesn’t hurry up,” Kara repeats under her breath as she jots it down quickly.
She’s not going to say those words to her friend, but Kara likes writing them down anyway and adding them to the long list of odd things she’s heard during her time as Cat’s assistant. She figures if anybody asks her what it’s like to work under Cat Grant, Queen of all Media, she can just pull out the list and walk away without explaining.
She’s about to walk out of the office and help James with whatever problem he’s having, when she suddenly remembers something.
“Wait, you’re free this afternoon,” Kara turns around and points her pen in Cat’s direction.
“Am I?” Cat asks distractedly, already turning her attention to her computer.
“You have a video conference with the head of the marketing department at six, and then you- you should be free. Did I- did I miss something?” Kara flips through her clipboard and frowns when she can’t find anything after seven o’clock.
“Ugh,” Cat grunts, rolling her eyes and rotating her right hand until her wrist pops. With a satisfied little sigh, she rests her hands back on the keyboard and types rapidly. “If you must know,” she pauses to squint dangerously at something on the screen and stabs the delete button, “I have a date.”
“A- a date?” Kara stops herself from giggling nervously at the odd, tight grip that’s suddenly taken ahold of her heart. “But you don’t date. Ever.”
“You sound like my mother,” Cat glares over her glasses and Kara rearranges her own nervously. “Speaking of my mother, find the less flattering picture you can find of her and send it down to security.”
“Okay,” Kara says hesitantly, taking a small step forward. “But, why?”
Cat huffs irritably. “I don’t pay you to have questions, Kiera!” When she sees Kara’s hopeful rise of her eyebrows, she purses her lips as if what she’s about to do costs her more than her night cream. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I have a date. My mother arranged it. I never want to see her old witch face again.”
Kara tries keeping a straight face, but Cat’s angry typing and the slight pout she’s sporting while talking about her mother is really a sight she only sees every so often. And every single time, Kara has to stop herself from giggling at how petulant her boss looks.
“Of course,” she says, knowing Cat will lift the ban in about two week’s time. She jots it down and is about to take her leave again when she hears Cat angrily stab at her keyboard again.
“If you don’t want to go on the date, why not cancel?” She expects Cat to look up from her computer, but she doesn’t expect her to stop typing suddenly.
“Why are you asking so many questions?” Cat answers with a question of her own, squinting her eyes. “You’ve passed your quota.”
And Kara doesn’t really have an answer to that, because whatever strange thing is happening to her stomach and heart when she thinks about her boss on a date isn’t something she wants to really explain to anybody right now. Or ever.
“Right. I’ll just, I’m gonna go. And work on- work on stuff. Things,” she stumbles over her words under Cat’s piercing stare as she all but flees from the office.
*
Cat Grant has contemplated murder twice in her life.
Once, when she drunkenly came up with a plan to go back in time and stop the unfortunate birth of her ex-husband.
And twice, right at this very second as she notices her date’s toupee move out of place for the fifth time in the past half hour.
“And then I said to him, ‘if I can’t write a book about my childhood, how will people know great literature exists?’” The…man laughs boisterously and claps his hand over his stomach, leaning as far back as his chair will allow him.
Cat wraps a hand over her wine glass to stop herself from snatching the knife resting on her date’s plate. He abandoned it ten minutes ago as he started talking about the book he’s writing, Cat’s sure he won’t need it anytime soon.
It’s only fitting, Cat thinks bitterly as the man drones on, that her writer of a mother would pair her up with a self-centered, whiny man whose first project is writing an autobiography on his dull childhood. Cat vaguely remembers him saying something along the lines of ‘it all started when my dog died.’
Her only relief during this fresh hell sent from the bottom of her mother’s black heart, is that there’s a TV directly behind the man’s toupee showing footage of Supergirl’s latest heroic act of the week.
This particular news source is showing Supergirl lifting a burning car over her head and flying away from the heart of the city at lighting speed. Cat lets herself be distracted by those arms wrapped in navy blue, idly wondering why they don’t look quite as impressive under the cardigans Kara insists on wearing.
“What are you- oh. It’s that girl,” her date spits out and Cat tears her eyes from the screen to witness him picking at his teeth and wiping his fingers at the edge of the table. “You know, Senator Crane had it right, before she went all pro-alien and lost her mind.”
He shakes his head sadly and turns in his chair to look at the TV again. Cat gets a lovely view of his bald spot, still visible despite his hardest efforts.
“That’s what happens when you let a woman inside the office. They create total chaos just because they can’t make up their mind,” he shakes his head again and lets out a disappointed grunt.
Cat’s grip around her glass tightens and she has the vivid image of throwing her wine glass at him. Sadly, they are at a very public restaurant, with her vey public image on the line.
She’s about to unleash hell in the form of her quick tongue and just the right, well-placed barb when the idiot opens his mouth again.
“And if a woman politician isn’t bad enough, now we have this girl pretending to be a hero! Look at her!” He waves his hand behind his head and his toupee makes an unfortunate jump at the sudden movement. “What’s she gonna do, lipstick someone to death? For god’s sake.” He takes a large gulp of his drink and Cat’s eye twitches.
She certainly has never used her lipstick to kill anybody, but she has a few places she can think of shoving it in now that her date’s mentioned it.
She’s seeing red and she’s certain that if she stays in the table for more than a second longer, she’ll throttle the man and tomorrow’s paper will show a lovely picture of Cat Grant punching a middle aged man while sipping wine.
“I have to use the lady’s room,” she says tersely, not waiting for a reply before taking her purse and stalking towards the back of the restaurant.
Slamming the door closed behind her, she takes her phone out and looks for the number under the name Satan.
“Kara,” she bites out angrily when she doesn’t find the name under the ’S’. Scrolling through her contacts, she thins her lips out as she finds her mother’s number under Mom :).
She should have never trusted Kara with her passwords.
“Ki-!”
“Did you really think this heathen would be worth my entire evening?” Cat interrupts her mother’s greeting and gets straight to the point.
“Kitty,” her mother admonishes, “he’s one of the most interesting people I know!” Her mother sounds genuinely surprised that she isn’t having a lovely time and it takes everything in Cat not to climb out the bathroom window.
“He’s dull. And sexist. And he smells like ham,” she grits out, turning to the sinks and reapplying her lipstick.
“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t find somebody- somebody like Supergirl for you to dine with. Not everybody has her on speed dial, you know.” Her mother laughs hollowly in Cat’s ear and she finds herself looking at her reflection as her eye twitches again.
“No, not everybody,” Cat agrees, her mind whirring. She hangs up before her mother can say anything more.
*
“A catfish! A…sword?” Kara screams at Winn, waving her arms around as she tries guessing what he’s drawing on the board. “An inflatable balloon!”
Winn lets out a grunt of frustration. He shakes his head and points with the marker at the board, waving his hands and making vague gestures.
“Time!” Lucy yells out, laughing lightly. “That’s five to zero,” she adds, high-fiving James and stealing a quick peck from him.
“It’s a plane! It has- these are the wings,” Winn points to the two triangles he shakily drew, “and this is the cabin!”
Kara gives him a sympathetic smile and shrugs her shoulders innocently. “Maybe we should play another game?”
Winn throws his arms up in the air and goes to fetch more tortilla chips from the kitchen.
“No way!” Lucy jumps from the couch with a scary gleam in her eye. Kara’s learned that Lucy is, if possible, just as competitive as Cat. “Losers can’t back out just because they suck!” She tries getting another high-five from James, but he shakes his head and goes to erase the board.
Just in that moment, her phone rings in her back pocket, distracting her from whatever else Lucy is shouting.
“Miss Grant?!" Kara squeals, smoothing her skirt out and missing the curious look Lucy sends her way. “What- aren’t you on a date?”
“No, Kara. I’m on Mars and I called to remind you to water my plants,” Cat snaps just as Kara stands up and starts pacing.
“Um,” Kara flounders, clearly hearing the anger behind Cat’s words. “I take it the date didn’t go well?”
“I’m in the restroom calling my assistant in the middle of it, Kara. What do you think?”
It’s the second time Cat’s called her by her name in the span of this call and Kara can’t find it in her to be annoyed at Cat’s thick sarcasm.
“Do you need me to-“
“I need you to help me escape. I am going to step out of this restroom and in exactly seven minutes, you need to give me a reason to leave. Make me cry. Make my date cry.” Cat says, stressing every syllable in a way that makes Kara think Cat’s surpassed angry and has entered her murderous stage.
“Miss Grant,” Kara nearly whines. “You don’t have to lie to your -“
“He insulted Supergirl. Her punching skills and her skirt,” Cat interrupts and Kara stops pacing.
“I’ll be right there,” she says, blindly making her way to her bedroom.
“What’s going on?” Lucy is suddenly in front of her, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised way too high.
“Miss Grant needs me.” She tries side stepping Lucy but the small girl is surprisingly fast for a human.
“Oh?” Her eyebrows rise higher making Kara tap her foot impatiently. She only has seven minutes, after all.
“She’s having a bad date and asked me to help,” Kara rushes out and takes advantage of Lucy’s stunned silence to side step her.
“What are you going to do?” Lucy calls after her, but Kara ignores her in favor of quickly changing into the super suit and letting her hair loose from the bun she had on. After a second of hesitation, she places a touch of red on her lips and musses her hair a little.
When she gazes at herself in the mirror, she frowns and tries flattening out her hair, blushing slightly at her own actions.
“I’m gonna go, obviously,” Kara says, stepping out and hoping nobody notices the change in make up. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? Please don’t eat everything.”
“Kara, she probably meant for you to call he-“
“No, you should definitely go,” Lucy gushes, elbowing James. “Go and save her. Do your thing.” She gives Kara a big wink just as Winn comes into the room.
“What’s going on?” He asks around a mouthful of something he probably stole from her fridge.
“Miss Grant-“
“-needs you,” her three friends answer. Winn waves his hand dismissively and flops down on the couch. “Hurry before the food’s gone,” is all he says but Kara’s already halfway out the window, her heart hammering inexplicably loud in her ears.
*
“Honestly, I’m surprised there’s people out there who didn’t vote for him,” Cat’s date continues running his mouth as if there’s somebody actually listening. She tuned him out as soon as the words Donald Trump came out of his freakishly thin lips, and she’s been shamelessly checking her phone for the time every two minutes.
Kara was supposed to call thirty seconds ago.
Just when she’s about to stand up and simply walk out the door, image be damned, a collective gasp comes from the restaurant’s patrons. Stunned shouts and cries of joy indicate that her favorite super hero has somehow arrived to the establishment.
Kara lands gently at the entrance, her cape fluttering behind her and making her look almost ethereal. She doesn’t take long to spot a surprised Cat, despite the multiple people in her way. With an apologetic smile at the crowd gathering around her, she makes her way to their table.
“Miss Grant,” she greets solemnly and Cat makes sure to smile sickeningly sweet up at Kara.
With a jolt of surprise, she notices her assistant’s rather bold lip color and the way her hair looks like she just crawled out of bed. She almost forgets the reason why Kara thought coming in as Supergirl was a good idea.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but I need your help. It’s urgent,” Kara lowers her voice and Cat is impressed and a little pleased that is sounds almost authoritative.
“Oh, no,” Cat deadpans, suddenly glad for Kara’s overachieving personality. She turns wide eyes to her date, “Timmy, I’m afraid I have to leave.” She knows for a fact that her date’s name does not start with ‘T’.
“It’s a matter of life and death,” Kara adds, puffing her chest out and placing her fists on her waist. Cat coughs pointedly, wordlessly urging Kara to take it down a notch.
“Yeah? What’s she gonna do,” he points at Cat, “Use her pen to take down some baddies?” He chuckles at his own joke and Cat rolls her eyes so hard she sees white.
“Actually,” Kara takes a step closer and Cat sees her face harden. “I came here because I’m in need of Miss Grant’s intuitive and brilliant mind to help me save dozens of people from dying. But it looks like I’m the one saving her from dying of boredom!” She finishes with a little huff and a threatening glare.
Oh, Kara.
Cat leans back in her chair and picks up her wine, rather liking how the scene is unfolding despite Kara’s less than stellar comebacks.
“And,” Kara stresses, her glare intensifying. “She does more with that pen than I do with my strength! She’s been looking out for this city longer than I’ve been around to protect it,” Kara takes a deep breath, just barely beginning her little speech, it seems.
Unfortunately, Cat’s date decides to open his mouth again. “If she’s so amazing, maybe you should date her!” He stands up and throws his napkin on the table, apparently angry at being talked down to.
“Maybe I will!” Kara yells after him and Cat decides now is a good time to finish what little wine remained in her glass.
“Supergirl,” Cat says and isn’t the least bit surprised when Kara turns around with her eyes livid. “Wasn’t there an emergency?”
“Oh,” she says, blinking fast and straightening out. “Right. Um, this way.” Kara points weakly to the door and Cat has to admit that the move looks odd when she's wearing the suit.
Cat fixes her skirt as she walks out and tries her hardest not to smile smugly as she leaves the building with Supergirl trailing behind her.
“I’ll just, um, pick you up?” Kara whispers once they hit the sidewalk, stepping closer.
There’s a crowd gathering around them and Cat’s never been more sure that this was not how falling into Kara’s arms was supposed to go. Still, she purses her lips and gives a disinterested shrug.
“Well, you did say it was urgent,” Cat says and something flutters in her stomach at the blush that colors her assistant’s cheeks.
Being held by the waist by Kara Danvers shouldn’t make Cat tighten her hold against the girl’s neck, but here she is, suddenly being reduced to a cliche she never thought she’d fall into. She lets out a small gasp as they take off and when Kara levels out and the wind stops fluttering her hair, Cat cracks one eye open and instantly closes it again.
“Take me to my flat,” Cat says through gritted teeth and shamelessly wraps her legs around the girl’s waist in an effort to feel like she’s not about to fall out of the sky.
There’s something to be said about flying through the sky with the most powerful woman in National City, but Cat can’t find it in her to appreciate the gesture or it’s meaning, not even when she can feel Kara’s strong arms around her. She’s just simply too terrified of heights.
But when they land on her balcony and she drops her legs from around Kara, she takes a moment to slide her arms from around the younger woman's neck and glide them down her navy clad arms, finally confirming that yes, it’s the arms that make the suit look good and not the other way around.
Cat takes a look at the young woman’s red lips and windblown hair, the way she’s smiling nervously and a little sheepishly, and makes a split second decision.
“So,” she says, turning around and sauntering towards her bedroom. “You told Timmy something interesting.”
She doesn’t turn around as she speaks, but once she makes sure Kara is following her, she brings her hands up to unbutton the first button of her shirt.
“Hm?” Kara seems distracted by something and Cat bites her lip, smiling lightly.
“You said you’d…date me?” Another button pops.
“Oh. Oh!” Kara seems to realize her mistake and immediately starts blabbering.
When Cat finally makes it all the way inside her bedroom, Kara’s face is as red as her skirt and she’s wringing her hands nervously.
“No, no, that’s- you heard wrong. I said I’d cake you. Not date you. I’d make you a cake,” Kara trails off as soon as Cat turns around with her shirt hanging loosely from her shoulders.
“Oh, silly me,” Cat says, letting the shirt fall to the ground. “And here I thought-“
But she’s interrupted as a flurry of red and blue and gold envelops her and a firm mouth kisses her until she’s backed up against the wall.
When Cat hoists herself up and wraps her legs around Kara’s waist again, and the younger woman runs her nails down Cat’s ribs, she has the vague and distant thought that she’s never been more grateful towards toupees before.