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2016-09-07
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Lying To You

Summary:

"I looked at Supergirl like that because… because I could. Because I couldn’t look at my assistant with awe and wonder and adoration because it was entirely inappropriate, but Supergirl? National City’s hero? Who could blame me for falling for her?” Kara stares down at her hands, and her shoulders slump, because this had been what she’d been afraid of. “But, Kara?” Cat doesn’t continue until she lifts her head, meets her gaze, her eyes soft and giving her hope. “It has always been you."

Notes:

For the prompt "You were never just my friend."

Work Text:

“Miss Grant?” Kara calls, a moment after she knocks her knuckles against the open glass door of Cat’s office.

Cat, behind her desk and scribbling away with her favourite red pen, tenses at the sound of Kara’s voice.

To anyone else it would be imperceptible – the slight setting of her shoulders, the tiniest clench of her jaw, the tightening of her fingers around her pen.

But Kara is attuned to Cat’s every moment, and she notices it all – along with the spike in her heartrate when she realises who has come to disturb her.

“Snapper asked me to bring you these.” She waves the papers she holds in her hands, even though Cat can’t see the gesture, because she’s yet to raise her head.

She hadn’t wanted to bring them – she’s been avoiding this office at all costs, recently – but her new boss isn’t the type to take no for an answer, and when he asked you personally to do something for him, you did it without question, or else.

“Very well,” Cat sighs, still without looking up, and Kara takes that as permission to move her leaden feet forward, into a place she used to spend so many hours in, but that she hasn’t set foot in for almost ten days.

She sets the papers down on the very edge of Cat’s desk, her fingers trembling slightly, and she watches the tension in Cat’s body increase as Kara moves closer.

She knows that she should turn and leave immediately, that she should scamper out of here and never look back and continue her avoidance of this office and the woman within it.

But now that she’s here, now that Cat is closer to her than she has been in days… Kara can’t just walk away.

At least, not yet.

Not without at least trying to tear down the barrier that Cat has slammed up between them.

And it’s Kara’s fault, she knows that. She was the one to push things beyond anything that could be considered professional – she was the one who had turned to Cat one night and kissed her, she was the one who had fallen into Cat’s bed that very same night, the one who just couldn’t seem to stay away.

She was the one who had ended it, because she could feel herself falling for Cat, wanting something more than a quick fuck, wanted to spend the night wrapped up in Cat’s arms, to wake up with her in the morning.

But she couldn’t do that when she was lying to Cat every single day.

“Was there something else?” Cat asks, and when she finally, finally tilts up her head, Kara’s breath catches as Cat meets her gaze.

She’s trying for disinterested, indifferent, but Kara can see something more than that glittering in green.

She knows she’d hurt Cat, when she’d put an end to their little… arrangement, and Cat had kicked her out before she could even begin to explain.

Before she could stop choking on the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’ve been lying to you for so long I don’t even know where to start with the truth’ and ‘you were always right, please forgive me’.

She still hasn’t quite built up the courage to come to Cat with her truth, to tell her that she was the girl of steel, as she had long suspected, because every time she catches a glimpse of Cat in the halls of CatCo, her eyes are hard as steel, and her mouth is pressed into a thin line, and Kara quails in the face of her anger.

“I…” There is so much Kara wants to say, but all of the words escape her as Cat stares up at her, glasses on her nose, and one eyebrow quirked upwards in obvious annoyance.

She’s wearing a blouse with two buttons left undone, revealing the sharp collarbones that Kara has mapped with her mouth a hundred times. She has learned every inch of the lean body before with hands and lips and tongue, but with Cat looking at her like this, they feel like strangers.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” Cat’s jaw tightens, and a muscle in her neck twitches. “Can… can we not just go back to being friends?” She knows it’s a mistake the second the words are out of her mouth, because Cat’s eyes flash and her lip curls into a snarl and she looks fierce enough that Kara takes a half-step back.

But she hates this, she hates this distance, she hates that she had had Cat in her life (in her hands, against her mouth), the one thing that she has wanted for so long, and she’d thrown it all away because she’d been too cowardly to come clean about Supergirl.

She’d been terrified that Cat would be angry and put an end to things, never talk to her again.

But that had happened anyway, because Cat had told her one night, the last night, her eyes bright in the darkness as Kara was tugging her pants back up her legs, that she thought she might be falling in love with her.

And Kara had frozen, her jeans halfway up her thighs, because she’d never in a million years thought that Cat would ever fall for her, not the way that she had fallen for Cat.

Cat was staring at her with vulnerability in her eyes, laid her heart bare for Kara to see, and she’d panicked.

Because all she wanted to say was ‘I think I’m falling in love with you, too’ but she couldn’t.

Not when she was keeping such a huge part of herself from this woman, this woman who wanted to share everything she was with Kara.

Cat Grant was a woman who had spent her entire life fighting for the truth, who despised dishonesty, and Kara knew she couldn’t start a relationship with Cat without telling her the truth.

But she hadn’t been able to get out the words, because she was a stupid idiot, and Cat had taken that as a supremely bad sign and kicked her out and Kara’s been walking around with a broken heart ever since.

She thinks, judging from the look in Cat’s eyes, that she has been, too.

“No, Kiera.” Kara winces at the name, and at the clipped tone of Cat’s voice. “We can’t, because you were never just my friend.” She sneers the word, and Kara swallows thickly. “You were my assistant, and then you were one of my junior editors and then you were the woman I was screwing, but you made it very clear that that arrangement was no longer working for you, so no. We were never friends, and we never will be.”

“If you could just let me explain - ”

“I think you’ve said enough.” When she tries to protest, Cat holds up a hand, and something dangerous flashes across her face. “Shut the door on your way out, Kiera. I don’t want any more unexpected,” she says the word in such a way that Kara knows she really means unwanted, “visitors tonight.”

Kara stares at her for a moment more, sees the pain that Cat is trying so hard to stop showing on her face, before she shakes her head and sighs, turning on her heel and stalking from the room.

But she’s not done, here.

She’s allowed her cowardice to reign supreme for too long, had let it get in the way of what she wanted, of her happiness, and it’s time for her to grow a backbone and come clean.

It might be too late to repair things with Cat, but anything has to be better than this, coming to work with a heart that is heavy with regret and guilt and missed opportunities, slipping through her fingers like water.

If Cat had meant what she’d said, if this could be something, she has to try.

x-x-x

“Supergirl.” Cat looks up in surprise as Kara hovers over her balcony. It had taken her half an hour to build up the courage to do this, and in that time Cat has clearly given up on work – she’d been staring pensively off into the distance when Kara had approached, a haunted look in her eyes that shifts to curiosity as Kara touches down beside her. “You haven’t visited in a while.”

Not since they’d started sleeping together, because she didn’t how to look Cat in the eye when she was dressed like this and not think about the look on her face and the way she clutches Kara close when she comes.

“To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” There’s a glass of scotch in her hand, half-finished, though she sets the glass down as she turns towards Kara, leaning one hip against the railing. “The world isn’t ending again, is it?”

“Not that I know of,” Kara says with a shrug, and Cat’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile.

It makes Kara’s heart skip a beat, because it feels like years since she’s seen Cat look so carefree.

“What, then? Rough day at the office?” Cat’s voice is soft, but her gaze is searching, and Kara is careful to keep her expression neutral. “Need a pep talk?”

“Just a talk,” Kara murmurs, watching as Cat’s gaze sharpens with interest. “Can we… sit down?” She phrases it as a question, which is probably her first mistake – Supergirl is all confidence, where Kara Danvers is meek – but Cat nods anyway and gestures Kara over towards the balcony furniture.

She chooses to sit in the chair that Cat had found her on the arm of once, a broken hero with the hatred of an entire city sitting heavily on her shoulders.

She’d expected Cat to hate her, too, after what she’d done.

But Cat had only proven that her faith in Kara had never wavered, would never waver, and that night, sitting quietly together, both lost in their own swirling thoughts, was the night that things had begun to shift and change between them.

She hopes that tonight might bring about another shift, this time towards something more.

More than boss-employee, more than hero-supporter, more than friends, more than just mere lovers.

“You look awfully serious, considering the world isn’t coming to an end.” Cat tilts her head to one side, fixing Kara with a piercing gaze as she reclines back in the chair opposite Kara, lips pursed thoughtfully. “What’s on your mind, Supergirl?”

“I want… there’s something I need to tell you, Miss Grant.” Cat’s eyebrow hitches upwards, but she doesn’t say a word. “Something about me.” Cat just stares at her expectantly, and Kara takes a deep breath. “I’m afraid I haven’t been very honest with you.”

“Is that right?” Cat asks, her voice quiet, and there’s something in her eyes that makes Kara wonder if she knows exactly what words are about to come from her mouth.

“Yes. I… I think you already know that I don’t wear this cape full-time. You asked me, in our first interview, if I had a day job.” Cat nods, and Kara’s fingers shake as she knots them in her lap. “I didn’t tell you because it’s… it’s important that I keep my identity a secret. So that my enemies don’t use my friends and my family against me. So that I can keep them safe.”

“Nothing you say to me here tonight will end up in the Trib, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Cat sounds annoyed that she even has to make the clarification, eyebrows drawing into a frown that Kara aches to wipe away.

“I know!” Kara rushes to assure her, eyes widening slightly. “I know that, Miss Grant. I was just… trying to make you understand why I’ve been so reticent. Why I haven’t trusted you with this secret.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say,” Cat murmurs, and her eyes are like lasers as they pin Kara in place, sharp and deadly, and Kara understands how she was such a fantastic reporter as she shifts uneasily beneath the weight of that gaze. “You’re speaking like we know one another. Like I’d have reason to be angry at you for keeping this from me. Rest assured, Supergirl, knowing your identity would be an honour, but you don’t owe it to me.”

“You helped me save the world. Against Myriad.”

“So did Maxwell Lord,” Cat points out, “and I doubt you’ve told - ” She pauses, as Kara squirms guiltily in her seat. “Oh. He knows.”

“He, um, kind of figured it out,” Kara says, apologetic, because there’s something that looks a lot like betrayal on Cat’s face before it is carefully blinked away. “I did not tell him, and him knowing created a lot of issues for me and my family – but that is not what I’m here to talk about,” Kara reminds herself. “I do owe it to you, Cat.” Kara’s fingers shake as she reaches into one of the concealed pockets in her suit, and wrap around the pair of glasses she had carefully hidden there earlier. “And I owe you an apology, too.”

She watches Cat’s face closely as she draws out the glasses and slides them onto her nose.

It’s a reversal of the last time they were out here, when she was trapped and cornered as Kara Danvers, and grateful for her sister’s interruption.

Tonight she is in her suit and cape, and her phone is turned off – the city can spare her for a few scant hours.

Tonight she is putting her glasses on instead of taking them off, though she feels more bare now in front of green, green eyes than she ever has before, even when she’s been splayed, naked, beneath Cat’s lithe body.

They’ve come full circle, in so many different ways.

She shrinks back against her seat, her eyes scrunching so that they’re half-closed as Cat takes a deep breath. She’s staring at Kara, her eyes widening though Kara can’t read the emotions swirling through them, like she can barely believe that this is happening.

This might be the most terrifying moment of her life.

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than that, Kara,” Cat breathes, and she doesn’t sound nearly as angry as Kara had expected to.

Instead, she sounds almost… relieved.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, prays Cat can hear her sincerity. “I know I should have told you sooner but I… I just couldn’t. At first it was because I didn’t want to lose my job,” Cat winces at the reminder of her initial reaction after accusing Kara and Supergirl of being one and the same, “but then it was because… I’d lied to you for so long, and I didn’t know how to stop. And when we started… when this started,” Kara gestures between the two of them, because in spite of all the things she’s done with Cat, she still struggles with using the word ‘Cat Grant’ and ‘having sex’ in the same sentence. “I knew you’d never forgive me for lying to you. And when you told me… when you told me that you might be falling for me?” Cat freezes opposite her, and Kara watches her throat work as she swallows, hard. “That… You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words. But I didn’t want to start a relationship based on a lie, and before I could say that - ”

“I kicked you out,” Cat finishes, with a sigh. “God, Kara, you’re an idiot.”

“I know.” The look she shoots Cat is sheepish, but it draws a small smile from Cat’s lips, and for the first time Kara wonders if maybe they can salvage this, after all. “There are so many things I wish I’d done differently, Cat. So many things. If I could go back to the start… I wouldn’t try to fool you, after that first time. I wish I’d just told you the truth.”

“I didn’t exactly handle it well,” Cat murmurs. “I can understand the reasons you had for trying to protect yourself, our relationship was a little more…” Cat trials off, hunting for the right word, “troubled, shall we say, back then. I don’t blame you for not trusting me.”

“But after Myriad…”

“You should have told me,” Cat says, with a small shake of her head. “I admit, my suspicions never left me. After Bizarro, when it became apparent that two of you could exist at the same time, I started to wonder if perhaps that was what might have happened in my office that night. There were too many co-incidences. I listed some that night, and the disappearances kept happening at times where Supergirl had taken to the skies. And then, later… I noticed newer things. Like that scar, above your eyebrow. Like your earrings. Like the scent of your perfume. And mere humans can see perfectly well in the dark, Kara, even at my age. I’ve seen you with your hair down.” Kara flushes, because one of Cat’s favourite things to do is run her hands through her hair – she threads her fingers through blonde curls, tightens them into a fist when Kara bites and sucks at her neck, uses her grip to hold her close when Kara kneels between her thighs. “I knew you were her before we started sleeping together. It was just a matter of wondering when you were going to tell me. If you ever would.”  

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, because this entire thing feels like a betrayal. “I always wanted to tell you. I know that doesn’t make it better, but I did. But at the same time, there was also a part of me…” She trails off, takes a shaky breath. “There was a part of me that saw the way you looked at her. At me.” She tugs at the cape around her shoulders. “And I knew you’d never look at me like that.” Cat frowns, and Kara rushes on before she can be interrupted. “After I thought there was a chance that you and I might become something… there was a part of me that didn’t want to tell you the truth, not before it started, because I’d never be sure who you really wanted. Me or her.”

“Kara.” Cat says her name so softly, and there’s something almost pained in her eyes. “You and Supergirl… you’re one and the same. She is still you, she is just a different version of you. In this office, as Kara Danvers, you shrink into the background so that no-one notices you, you hide in plain sight, but she allows you to be who you truly are. I looked at Supergirl like that because… because I could. Because I couldn’t look at my assistant with awe and wonder and adoration because it was entirely inappropriate, but Supergirl? National City’s hero? Who could blame me for falling for her?” Kara stares down at her hands, and her shoulders slump, because this had been what she’d been afraid of. “But, Kara?” Cat doesn’t continue until she lifts her head, meets her gaze, her eyes soft and giving her hope. “It has always been you. It has been you since the moment you walked into that office,” she gestures to the closed balcony door behind them, “at ten fifteen two and a half years ago. I knew then that you were special, I just… I didn’t know how special. How important you would become to me.”

“Cat…” Her voice is thick with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears, because Cat is looking at her like she’s something precious, is saying words Kara never once expected to hear, and she’s so overwhelmed that she can’t even manage to gather her thoughts. “Did you mean it, the other night?”

“When I told you that I thought I was falling in love with you?” Cat’s voice is quiet, and her eyes are dark and guarded as they watch Kara’s face closely. “Yes.”

“I imagined you saying that a hundred thousand times,” Kara admits, staring down at the floor, unable to look Cat in the eye. “And when it actually happened I had the worst reaction in the world, but if I could do it over… I’d tell you that I think I’m falling for you, too. That I have been since the moment we met.” She raises her head, chances a look at the woman opposite her. “And I get it, if… if things have changed for you.” She looks away again, mutters the words at her hands, folded in her lap. “If you can’t forgive me for this. I know how much you value honesty.”

“I also value bravery,” Cat says, and Kara startles when Cat shifts, rises from her chair and sits on the arm of the chair Kara is perched on. “And courage. And I know that it took a lot of both to come to me tonight. I’m not the easiest woman to confront.”

“I should have done it sooner.”

“All that matters is the fact that you did,” Cat insists, but guilt still churns in Kara’s stomach. “Look at me.” Cat reaches for her chin, takes it between warm fingers, and Kara meets her gaze and feels herself drowning in pools of green. “Thank you, for trusting me with this.”

“You’re not mad at me?” She can’t help but ask, her voice small.

“Yes,” Cat murmurs, as blunt as always, and Kara smiles despite herself. “A little. Mainly because of the way you left me the other night rather than because you lied.”

“I’m sorry. I… I’ve never really done this before. I’ve never been with anyone that I really… that I really cared about. I’ve never been in love before, in a real relationship and I… you surprised me. I didn’t think you’d ever see me like that.”

“Because, as already discussed, you’re an idiot.” Kara chuckles, but the sound dies in her throat when Cat swipes her thumb along her bottom lip. “Of course I see you like that. You’re extraordinary, Kara Danvers.”

“An extraordinary idiot?” She clarifies, and Cat’s lips twitch into a smile as she hums. “Can I be your extraordinary idiot?”

“I’ll think about it,” Cat murmurs, but she shoots Kara a fond smile that tells her that the answer is a resounding yes. “Are you sure about this, Kara? Because this isn’t going to be easy, I am not easy and people will talk. I need you to be sure, because I don’t think I can watch you walk away from me again.”

“I’m not going to,” Kara vows, because it was one of the hardest things she has ever had to do. “I won’t make that mistake again, Cat.” She reaches out, her fingers trembling, to wrap a hand around Cat’s waist, fingers splaying across her hip. “I promise.”