Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Oh God,” Kara whines as her t-shirt rips during Cat’s semi-frantic attempts to get it off her. “I really love that shirt.”

“I’ll buy you another,” Cat gasps between kisses, ones that land not just on Kara’s mouth now, but the lines of her neck. It’s as though the skin is lighting up with directions to apply pressure here. Kara didn’t even know she had particularly sensitive dips at the base of her throat, but the swirl of Cat’s tongue is almost enough to render her insensible. “I’ll buy you a damn Spice Girl, if you want. Ginger can’t be that expensive these days.”

When Cat’s fingertips skim the edge of Kara’s simple cotton bra, it’s hard to form thoughts. The electricity of Cat’s touch has Kara arching her back, and that’s not even the most sensitive part of her breasts. Hands swoop lower, almost reverent as her palms glide over Kara’s abs. Then Cat’s unhooking that bra in one fluid motion, and if the prospect of her fingers was exciting, it’s barely a flutter compared to the first gentle slip of Cat’s tongue over Kara’s already stiffened nipple.

“Fuck,” Kara blurts. She laughs softly, unused to cursing, and Cat rewards her by drawing that nipple between her lips and sucking.

“Gorgeous,” Cat mutters against bare skin as she kisses her way across to Kara’s other breast, simultaneously sliding her hands down the back of Kara’s pants. “God, you could literally bounce a quarter off this,” she groans, squeezing Kara’s ass.

“Will twenty pence do?” Kara chokes out between moans. She can’t help reminding they’re really not in Kansas, literally and figuratively. When Cat pauses to roll her eyes, Kara takes her chance and stands up. She pulls Cat along with her, peeling off her top with a little more consideration than Cat showed hers. After all, Kara doesn’t have the budget to replace cashmere that feels softer than actual clouds. “My bedroom’s upstairs.”

She already knows they won’t make it. Not the first time.

“That’s so far away,” Cat complains, untying Kara’s yoga pants as they stumble towards the door. Kara finds herself pressed up against the door frame as Cat yanks the soft cotton the rest of the way down, urging Kara out of her pants. Cat drags short, perfectly-manicured nails over bare skin on the way back to standing, and Kara whimpers a little in the back of her throat. The tingling sensation on her thighs lingers in a way she doesn’t usually experience. It’s like all of her senses are turned up, but instead of feeling overwhelmed it’s pleasant, like the bubbles in champagne.

“Too many clothes,” Kara protests, unhooking Cat’s bra without a second’s pause. She’s pleased to see Cat’s jeans already being unbuttoned and hastily shoved down. It’s not quite how this went in Kara’s many fantasies, but right now she just wants to touch Cat anywhere and everywhere. To draw a happy sigh, or that half-choked moan in the back of Cat’s throat.

Kara is doing that. Kara is causing that. She doesn’t know how she’ll ever be able to stop, now that she knows she can.

Not that Cat is exactly lying back and thinking of England right now. She seems every bit as hungry to explore as Kara. Grasping is the only word for it, the way they reach and hold on as though they might be interrupted at any moment. Like stopping would end this chance they finally have.

Kara knows what it is to want, to be turned on. It’s nothing compared to oh dear God I’m being groped by my walking fantasy. The carpet on the stairs is rough against her back, but Cat is so light draped on top of her. Velvety skin with that sunkissed California glow that no amount of sunblock can fully prevent.

Cat’s bare thigh slips between both of Kara’s, and the pressure only ratchets up the need swirling between them.

“Kara, I…” Cat rolls her hips, grinding slick wetness against Kara’s leg. Her thigh flexes instinctively in response, rising up to meet each undulation.

“It’s okay,” Kara says, because she can tell from her ragged breathing that the pressure alone has Cat close. “Me too.” Cat seems to understand, instinctively, pushing herself harder into each roll of her hips. It doesn’t take much from there. Kara pinching Cat’s nipples in perfect time sets her off. The sounds she makes as she comes bring Kara off right after.

“Oh God.” Cat tries to pick herself up, but they’re a tangled mess on the stairs. Carefully, Kara lifts them both off the ground and floats them towards her bedroom.

“So,” she says, gently righting them. They’re both naked, still a little breathless, and Kara’s left thigh is just as shiny in the afternoon light as Cat’s. “Round two?”

Kara nuzzles into her pillow again, a haven of cotton and Cat’s perfume amidst a room that smells like sex in the best possible way. There’s the faint splash of water, and Kara squints, using x-ray vision to confirm the appealing sight of Cat slipping into the bathtub.

She could join her; the tub is certainly big enough for two. But Kara is thoroughly sated and almost a little sore, which shouldn’t even be possible for her. She burrows her naked body beneath more of the sheets and drifts off to sleep.

When she wakes she can hear Mike’s voice. Her senses are always scrambled on waking and she has to concentrate to not have the whole world turned up to eleven.

“So,” he says, “you are real then. Only I’ve taken some stuff that made me think there was a mermaid living in the bathroom, and let me tell ya… that bitch was mean.”

“I am, in fact, very real.”

Kara sits bolt upright. She can’t leave Cat unprotected around Mike’s sleazy stupidity. Everything’s been so perfect today; she can’t let him spoil it.

“I’d prove I don’t have a tail, but the bubbles are in the way.”

Kara moves really fast then. She’s in her sweatpants and tank top and yanking Mike back to his own hovel of a room faster than the three of them can blink.

“No! Bad alien! No talking to my dates.”

“I know, but you haven’t actually had one in all the time since you made that rule. I wasn’t sure if it still applied.” Ouch. Maybe Kara has to give him that one.

“I will give you twenty pounds to go sit in the pub until closing and not bother us again, okay?” She zips downstairs to grab her wallet, waving the purple-inked note at him. “Are you still barred from the Grapes? Because the barmaid there liked you.”

“Not barred.” Mike snatches the note and gestures towards the bathroom. “You know, she looks kind of familiar-”

“You met her before,” Kara reminds him. “The woman on the street and I spilled my drink?” He looks at her blankly. “The day you ate that whole jar of mayo?”

“Gotcha!” He gives her finger guns. “If you need any tips on pleasing a woman, even an Earth woman…”

“I really don’t.”

“Fine.” Mike sniffs the armpits of his t-shirt. “That’ll do.” Then with that leap and bound Kara has begged him not to do, he exits via his bedroom window. At least he opened it this time.

“I’m sorry if my pet project sexually harassed you.” Kara looks over Cat’s head at the pattern stencilled on the ceramic tiles. Kara had painted those dolphin the week she moved in, as a reminder of her home in Midvale. It seems impossible Cat Grant should be lying in the bath underneath them.

“Is he from the same place as you?” Cat sits up, water cascading down her honeyed skin as scant bubbles shift to reveal the petite breasts Kara is completely, irretrievably obsessed with. The neglected artist in her is dying to sketch every subtle curve.

“Different planet,” Kara says, kneeling on the mat beside the bath. “But gone, too. That’s why I feel responsible. He landed here last year, and I’ve been trying to help him fit in. Though I’ve never been all that great at fitting in myself.”

“So kind.” Cat reaches out with wet fingers, touching Kara’s cheek. “And now I know for sure that you’re generous. How did I find you?”

“The way all the best adventures begin. With a book.”

“You really need to work on that sales patter, darling. Water’s still warm?”

Kara doesn’t need to be asked twice. She’s already out of her temporary clothing and sliding into the bath. Cat wriggles forward to make room, then leans back with slippery skin and the sweet scent of Kara’s shower gel, improvised to make the bubbles. Kara pulls her closer, and Cat nestles between her parted thighs, leaning her head back against Kara’s still-dry shoulder.

“This feels nice,” Cat sighs. Kara kisses the top of her head in agreement.

By the time they make it back to the bed, Cat's voice is already slurring with the need for sleep. “I wish I could stay forever. Not that you’d want me that long, but it might be nice to try.”

“I don’t know how anyone could let you go,” Kara confesses, considering how to respond. It’s so easy to make a fool of herself. She gets a very soft snore in response.

“Well?” Cat says from the foot of the bed, two mugs in her hands. “Here it is. The harsh reality of the morning after.”

Kara sits up on her elbows, squinting in the dazzling sunshine. A few seconds and she’s reenergized. She doesn’t see any harshness. Just a stunning woman with tousled hair, no makeup and perfect skin, wearing nothing but Kara’s favorite oversized college t-shirt. It skims the top of Cat’s thighs, drawing attention to those perfectly toned legs Kara has already kissed her way up and down the length of.

“What do you mean?” She accepts the cup as Cat slips back into bed with her, sitting up cross-legged to sip her coffee. A door slams somewhere along the hall. Mike is home, then. “If it’s possible, you look even hotter than you did last night. Mussed looks good on you.”

“Flattery already got you everywhere,” Cat reminds her, but she’s smiling as she drinks her coffee. Kara sits up to do the same, completely unselfconscious after the day and night they’ve spent together. She takes that first necessary mouthful of the day and… almost spits it everywhere.

“When was the last time you made your own coffee?”

Cat sets her own aside. “Oh, somewhere around 1998? It’s pretty bad, huh?”

“I’ll go out, get us some real coffee,” Kara tells her, but Cat is already leaning in to claim a good morning kiss.

“Not just yet,” she urges, and Kara kisses back with the same enthusiasm as when they started on the sofa yesterday. “No regrets?”

“Not one.” Kara slips her hands beneath Cat’s borrowed shirt, her skin softer even than the well-worn cotton. “You were even more amazing than I imagined. And trust me, I imagined a lot.”

“People have been… disappointed. That it’s just like going to bed with anyone else. They expect Hollywood in the morning, too.”

“It was not just like anyone else,” Kara assures, rubbing her thumb gently over Cat’s breast before zeroing in on her nipple, rolling it between thumb and index finger when she starts to respond, back arching so beautifully. The way her body reacts makes Kara feel like a virtuoso. “Once more with feeling?”

“Why stop at once more?” Cat moans in response.

“No seriously.” Kara peels herself away and pulls on her sneakers she’d abandoned by the front door. “I am going for coffee. You can wait five minutes, surely?”

“No,” Cat pouts. “I’m insatiable.”

“Think how much longer we can go if we’re caffeinated, hmm?” Kara says, adding a comical eyebrow wiggle. “I don’t want to go out either, but I can’t get them to deliver. You don’t know how many rainy mornings I’ve tried.”

“This is why I have an assistant,” Cat points out, settling on the bottom stair with a light thump. “Get me something completely sinful to have with it. Sweet and sticky just like between your-”

“Coffee!” Kara yelps. She stumbles down the short hallway, held up more by her cheating relationship with gravity than grace. She looks back one more time before leaving, smiling slyly at the woman waving her goodbye with fingers that… God. Kara’s reaching for the door handle when Cat is on her again, the door slowly creaking open as they kiss, Kara backed against the wall of her own hallway, Cat still in her borrowed t-shirt.

The roar is so loud at first that Kara thinks something is exploding. A well of noise pushes them apart, seemingly with sheer percussive force. Cat recovers first, scrambling to slam the door shut, yanking Kara clear almost as an afterthought.

“I can’t see!” Kara blinks, but the camera flashes have her eyes stinging like her lasers are firing, the one defense mechanism she’s never been able to keep entirely in check. “What the hell was that?”

She looks to Cat, who’s leaning against the opposite wall with her arms wrapped around herself like a crash victim at the roadside. As Kara watches, Cat lets her knees buckle and she slides down the wall until she’s sitting. She’s deathly white, visibly trembling, and Kara can’t think of anything else to do but try to offer some kind of comfort.

“What happened?” The din outside is barely muted by the heavy door between them, and a thud or two suggest the jackals are getting too close. Kara scoops Cat up, carrying her to the relative sanctuary of the kitchen, before zipping back to put every lock and bolt the old house came with firmly in place. The pack is retreating at least, the shouts tapering off in face of the closed door.

When she returns to the kitchen, Cat is pacing the short distance between the fridge and the garden door. Her strides are too long for such a confined space, like an exotic predator in an enclosure. Color has returned to her cheeks, but it’s not the pleasurable flush from yesterday. It’s a dangerous dark pink high on Cat’s cheeks. That and the shimmering tears suggest she’s close to losing it.

“When?” she spits, finally noticing Kara’s return.

“When what?”

“Don’t pull that cornfed innocent bullshit with me. When did you call them? It must have been before I got up to make coffee. Even the shitty tabloids here aren’t that fast.”

“You…” Kara grabs for the kitchen stool, sitting before she falls down. “You think I would do that? To you? To myself?”

Cat’s lips are pressed together so tightly they’re going white, and Kara just stares and stares as the pacing continues.

“I didn’t,” Kara snaps. “So you can apologize any time you like.”

“Oh, grow up. What am I supposed to think?” Cat barges past her into the living room, retrieving her phone where it was abandoned with her purse. Judging by the frown and the way the screen keeps flashing, the news is already breaking. “You don’t understand. This isn’t just a Twitterstorm and a few days of lurid headlines. This is going to come up every time someone writes an article on me for years. Every promotional event, every job I’m considered for: Cat Grant’s Lesbian Sex Scandal.”

“There’s a chance they won’t believe it?” Kara says weakly. “And we’re not lesbians, so they’d be factually wrong.”

“Like that stops them.” Cat offers a glimpse of her screen, but then she’s back to stunned scrolling. Kara tries to focus on the sting of accusation, but seeing Cat so undone is worrying her far more. “I’ve been so fucking careful for years, and now this.”

“What do we do?”

“We don’t do anything.” Cat picks up the dropped items of clothing they never bothered to retrieve. “Apart from tell me there’s another way out, because I need to get myself somewhere with actual security.”

“Wait, I can protect you. I can fly you anywhere you want.”

“You think that makes it better? If I’m caught flying around with some alien?”

“Hey!” Mike comes bounding in.

“Not now.” Kara throws an arm out to stop him coming any closer, and he crumples to the floor on impact. She stands over him, temper straining at the edges. “Did you do it, Mon-El?”

“Who’s Mon-El?” Cat chimes in.

“That’s his actual name. The name he had when he showed up helpless and I gave him shelter, gave him security. I put up with being leered at and hit on, and all his piggy ways of living in my house. So tell me, Mon-El. Which paper did you call first?”

“Call paper?” He groans, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his chest where Kara had hit him. “You’re not making sense.”

“Who did you talk to?”

“Oh, you mean about your date?” he teases, like it’s just a funny, funny joke. “I don’t know if you know this, Kara, but she’s actually quite a famous actress. I saw her on TV last night, told a few of the guys she was staying at our place. But I didn’t invite them back, because I know that’s another one of your silly rules.”

He smiles like he’s waiting for a reward. Kara clenches and unclenches her fists. She could throw him into space. She’s had dreams about doing exactly that.

“Get. Out.”

“Oh, gotcha. A little fun in the kitchen, am I right?”

“Get out of my house, you moron. And my city, and see if you can catch a ride back off this planet because I am done with-”

“Enough.” Cat lays a hand on her upper arm. “Kara, it’s okay. Don’t lose your temper over me. You could really hurt him.”

“Yeah,” Kara agrees through gritted teeth. “I could.” He sees sense then, bounding upstairs and out of immediate reach.

“I have to go.” Cat hasn’t let go of Kara. “I’m sorry about… all that. For accusing you. I think in that first reaction I forgot that it’s happening to you too. I’m just trying to process how this is going to look. How it’s going to affect my custody hearing, my career… ”

“I don’t have anything to lose,” Kara says, her voice so very small. “Except you,” she adds with a wry smile. “But something tells me that was always going to happen. I can promise you one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Cat gathers her things and heads for the stairs. She’s still tapping on her phone, brow furrowing.

“I won’t say a word. To anyone, ever. No matter what they offer me, or what they make up. Not unless you want me to. I can keep a secret, even one the whole world already knows about. They’ll never hear it from me.”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m not sure I deserve you. Which is probably just as well, because with all this…” She gestures towards the front of the house. “I’m not going to have you, am I?”

“Wait-”

“I have to get dressed,” Cat says. Her phone lights up again. “My driver and security will be outside in five.”

“Cat-”

“I’m sorry.” For a second it looks like she’ll cross the room again, that she’ll kiss Kara firmly on the mouth and tell her they’ll face it together after all. Then the determination fades away, the cool mask of the untouchable star slipping back into place. “I’ll just get ready through here.”

Kara doesn’t officially leave the house for four days. Well, she uses superspeed and some risky flying off the roof to stock up on supplies clear across the city. Too many people in the neighborhood will recognize her. Hank holds down the fort at the beseiged bookshop. He gleefully reports that every snooping journalist, blogger and gossip has been told the going rate for information is a minimum £50 spend. Everything he provides them with is very, very fake. Once they identify her as ‘an American business owner,’ some of the interest dies down. It doesn’t stop her checking every mention of Cat online, waiting to see if the silence will ever be broken.

Alex and James have been trying to visit, but after being doorstepped by lingering paparazzi twice, they resort to using the phone like Lucy. Kara doesn’t talk much, she’s too upset, but they all ask if she’s heard from Cat.

The silence when Kara says no is the second most embarrassing part of it all.

“She’ll call,” Lucy promises. “You’ve seen what they’re doing to her.” Hounding Cat, lying about her, stalking her through the airport and when she lands in New York. It’s hardly illogical to assume they’ll tap her phone or hack her voicemail, so Kara can’t even leave a rambling message to let her feelings out. Assuming Cat hasn’t disconnected the number already.

Some days, Kara wonders if she should expose her strength and speed and invulnerability to the world, all in the name of shielding Cat. Sure, Alex would flip, but it would pull focus entirely and give Kara the satisfaction of doing something for once, instead of letting the world just happen to her.

Cat doesn’t call. A politician embarrasses himself on Snapchat, and the world turns to a new scandal, leaving Kara forgotten again at last. Forgotten too, it would seem, by the woman who made her an unwilling celebrity for the best part of a week. Kara checks her phone so often the screen cracks, finally hurling the damn thing straight through her bedroom wall.

Mike moves out by the end of the week. If she’s going to feel so damn lonely, she may as well be alone.

“Kara?” Lucy calls from the conservatory. “Kara? Are you in there?”

“Hmm?” She puts her glass of wine down, turning back with an apology on her tongue. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

“Everyone else is here,” Lucy says gently. “Can’t break the big news without you, Danvers.”

“I already guessed,” Kara teases. “You’ve been approved to adopt, haven’t you?”

“Spoilers, Kara!” Alex gasps from the doorway. “But yeah, these two are about as subtle as you are when it comes to secrets. We’re all thrilled for you, Luce. I had Maggie bring the good booze tonight, since the best part of adopting is not having to quit it for nine months, right?”

Kara makes her way to hug Lucy, Alex piling on until Lucy complains she can’t exactly breathe for all the sisterly squeezing.

“So Kara.” Alex pulls a rolled up copy of the Metro from her pocket with a knowing look. “It’s nice to see you actually smiling again, sis. Does that mean you’re finally… over her?”

Kara fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Yes. I’m finally over it all. Her, it, everything. Totally over it. Smiling is back on the agenda.”

“Good, because I don’t want our kid having two sulky godparents, and we all know Alex is too much of a badass to take up acting all sunshiney now,” Lucy says, and Kara gasps at the invitation. “But I’m glad to hear that too, Kara. She really did a number on you.”

“She didn’t! It wasn’t… I don’t blame her.” Kara toys at her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve moved on.”

“Thank God,” Alex replies, spreading the newspaper on the table next to them. “Since she’s back here in London, filming, fresh off her Oscar win. She probably even brought the little gold guy with her. She definitely brought her son, if these shots are any indication.”

Something crumples inside Kara. Cat could be only a few streets away. Is that why she’s been feeling a little better this week? Has it been some unconscious acknowledgment of Cat’s presence? Even without knowing, did it ease missing her? She’s been pining for months, far more than Kara has any right to miss her in the first place.

Lucy reaches out, patting Kara’s arm in sympathy. “Well, shit. Not so over her, huh?”

She shakes her head, reaching for the paper with trembling hands. There’s no point pretending she didn’t suffer through every glorious second of awards season, over the splashy news that Cat had won full custody of her son. This week Kara’s actually been busy revamping her store, and hasn’t been following the news with any kind of attention.

It amuses her, in the midst of it all, how even a newspaper somewhere as huge and metropolitan as London reverts to the breathless tones of a school newsletter when someone famous comes to town.

But damn, Cat looks good.

A cursory skim of the article suggests the set has been kept firmly under wraps, and the few paparazzi shots of Cat and Carter show a relaxed and happy mother. Shopping, visiting the zoo, a couple of red carpet events with Carter in a kid-sized tux. Only once or twice has Cat been out alone - never on anyone’s arm, Kara is relieved to note - but the press is still linking her with every available actor or athlete. Are they convinced her fling with a woman was a momentary blip? Or worse, are Cat’s ‘people’ trying to muddy the waters by starting the rumors? Cat, to her credit, has never denied it or tried to cash in on it. Winning an Oscar has changed the conversation for her.

“Oh, is that what’s been filming up on the Heath?” Lucy reads over her arm. “Huh, it’s a period piece. Some play they adapted, I think James said. He had to change his parkrun route.”

“That’s… oh,” Kara crumples the paper in her hands, and Alex smacks her on the shoulder, mostly with affection.

“Guess we know where you’ll be tomorrow, huh?” Kara doesn’t even try to deny it.

“Kara!” James calls from halfway down the hill behind her. “For the love of God, man. You have to slow down.”

“Sorry!” she calls back, taking a swig from her sport bottle. Honestly, the only interesting thing about exercising is how cute some of the accessories are. As James closes the gap to her with long strides, she offers him a drink, but he has one of his own.

“You might want to pour some over yourself, so it looks like this is actually hell for you. You know, the way it is for normal people.”

“Normal is a relative concept,” Kara reminds him, splashing some water over her face and chest. When she’d gone to collect James, Lucy had outright demanded Kara ditch her t-shirt and go running in her crop top and leggings. Not using those abs is just wasteful. Kara glances down at her outfit, hoping it isn’t too desperate. Then splashes more water over her six-pack. Why the hell not, right?

James grins at her. “You’re taking Lucy’s advice. Get it, girl.”

“You really can’t pull that off,” Kara mocks as they jog the rest of the way to the temporary fences erected around the filmset. Whether kismet or just a freak accident of timing, the gates open to let a small truck through, causing Kara’s gaze to land on the huge metallic trailers. Stepping out, in her white, lacy period dress and gigantic hat, is none other than Cat.

They’re far enough apart there’s no reason for Cat to spot her, but Kara might as well be an oak tree for all the mobility she doesn’t have in the face of the woman who inadvertently broke her heart. Maybe it’s the truck, maybe it’s this ongoing dance with Fate they’ve been doing, but Cat looks up to see Kara standing there. She actually stumbles on the steps of her trailer, and the thought of Cat falling, hurting herself, is enough to spur Kara into motion.

At least the security guards don’t see her as she passes in a blur. She’ll explain to James later, but right now there’s nothing more important than being the steadying hand at Cat’s elbow.

“You came.” Despite the elaborate costume and film-grade makeup, Cat looks as vulnerable as the morning of the paparazzi showing up. “Oh Kara, I’ve thought about calling a hundred times. Wait, how did you…”

“Not entirely human, remember? Anyway, I saw you losing your balance. Just being a gentleman, I guess. I can get back out without anyone noticing, don’t worry. Love the outfit, though. Very Audrey in My Fair Lady.”

“No! No, stay. I mean, you’re here now.” Cat seems unusually flustered. Kara was a fool to ever pretend she could be over this woman. “I’ll grab a PA, have them find you a chair somewhere. Do you need something to um, cover…” Cat licks her lips, and Kara barely conceals her victorious smirk.

“Oh no, I’m just fine,” Kara says, and for the first time in months it’s actually true. It takes Cat a full thirty seconds to stop looking her up and down, to go get that PA as promised. Only when she returns, with a beleaguered assistant in tow, there’s also a very familiar-looking pre-teen boy with them.

“Carter is done with his tutor for today, so he’s going to sit with you. The director’s going to murder me with her bare hands if I hold her up any longer. Carter, darling, this is my friend Kara. You can tell her just how boring a film set is.” She kisses him firmly on the cheek, glancing at Kara in lieu of a kiss for her.

They watch Cat march off in her period costume. The chairs are set up a short distance from the cameras, so there’s little else to do beyond sitting down. Kara wriggles into the director-style chair without much grace, but Carter hops in without a second thought. He doesn’t look much like his mother up close, but when there’s a raucous noise from somewhere on-set, the flicker of irritation that blooms across his young features makes the resemblance unmistakeable.

“So,” Kara ventures as people run around - the organized chaos of a film set isn’t as glamorous as she thought. “How do you like London?”

“You’re American,” Carter says without looking up. “Do you want to be an actor, too?”

“God, no, nobody wants to see that. What about you? Are you hanging out to join the family business, or…?”

“My dad’s not an actor.” Carter turns this time. His eyes are really blue, though they have the shape of his mother’s. He has her nose, too. “I know who you are, you know.”

“You do?” Kara’s mouth goes dry. This is not the first impression she wanted to make. “It’s not like I’m famous.”

“Are you trying to be?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s a child, Kara reminds herself. She can’t get defensive.

“I saw the pictures. She did her best to hide them from me, but I have a phone. That and everyone at school suddenly being like oh hey, can your mom get me in with Kate McKinnon? I mean, seriously.”

“So you weren’t bullied or anything?”

“It’s 2017, Kara. Your mom’s a lesbian isn’t an insult at the schools I go to. It’s a statement with, like, a 30% chance of being factually correct. Except in my friend Sophie’s case, because her mom doesn’t believe in labels. She works in television though, and you know how they are.”

“Right, television,” Kara agrees, as though she has the first idea what she’s talking about. “So, everything’s okay?”

His stare is withering. Definitely all Cat. “Okay? Until the Oscar nominations, she was a wreck. It might not have been bad for me, but it meant my dad almost won full custody. I mean, I love my dad but come on… and every day, the articles. My mom can’t have coffee with someone without the papers saying it’s my new stepmom. So… thanks, I guess?”

Kara’s blood runs cold. Trying to move on had meant telling herself Cat lived in a rarefied bubble, a world of privilege that headlines and online gossip couldn’t touch. That Cat would be safe from the intrusion and rudeness of it all. The thought of those tabloid rags being able to upset her, to risk her relationship with her son… Carter still sounds upset, and no kid should have to deal with that.

“I’m really sorry, Carter.”

“You don’t need to be. My mom says sometimes I can be too blunt about the things I say. Was this one of those times?”

“No, not at all.” Kara gives him a big smile. She shouldn’t be here. She’s pushing her way in where she wasn’t invited, and Cat’s probably just humoring her to avoid a scene where so many people could overhear and sell a story to the tabloids. “But I just remembered, I have this work thing.”

“You’re leaving? Is it because you wanted to hang out with my mom and got me instead?”

“Hey, if I’d known I could hang out with you, I would have cleared my whole day. But I can’t go to a business meeting like this, so I really need to hit the road, you know?”

“No,” Carter replies, suspicious. “I don’t.”

“Tell Cat it was really nice to see her again. And that I’m sorry.” Kara moves a little too fast, but no one seems to notice. There’s some issue with the sound guys, and Cat can’t see her exit thanks to the gaggle of tall crew around her. Hitting the public path again, Kara struggles to stick to human speeds. As soon as she’s covered by some trees, she risks taking off for the short flight home.

When she’s safely back, Kara leans against the inside of her front door, the very spot where it all went so wrong. She presses her head against the painted wood and lets the fresh tears fall.

“You okay to come out front?” Hank peers around the door frame of the stock room. “You did say I could go early today, and I have plans-”

“Go, go,” Kara insists. She hasn’t done a thing with the stock, apart from idly flipping through a guide to Los Angeles. Getting up, she zips out to take his place behind the cash register. “See? Perfectly capable of running my own store. Now go show M’gann a good time, would you?”

“You’re okay?” he asks, though he’s clearly uncomfortable they’re in such personal territory. “I could just close up early.”

“No need, honestly. About time I did some work around here, after being late this morning.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Hank hesitates on his way out, framed by the shop’s doorway. Dressed all in black as he is, Kara has the fleeting impression of a bouncer barring entry to a club. “Customer!” he calls over his shoulder, and Kara quickly tidies the counter in front of her.

“Hi there,” she begins, lifting her head from a now perfect stack of bookmarks. “Welcome to… to…”

“Oh, I’ve been here before,” Cat fills the stuttering gap, smooth as honey. “But I confess, I’m not really in the market for a book right now.”

Kara wills her heart to beat again, because she’s quite sure it’s stopped in her chest.

“I, um…”

“There’s that eloquence that drives the girls crazy.” Cat moves closer, until only the slender inches of the countertop divide them. “I think you were trying to say that you ran off earlier today.”

“I had work.” Kara gestures to the otherwise empty store.

“Mmm. It’s a regular Black Friday stampede,” Cat says, her gaze never leaving Kara’s face. “Why did you leave? It wasn’t because I left you with Carter, was it?”

“Of course not! He’s… he’s a great kid! I love kids, and really it was just a timing thing.”

“Kara, why are you running away from me? I know - trust me, I remember in exquisite detail - that you were in running gear, but that’s a little on the nose, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hey, Kara!” Great. Another customer.

“Not now, Winn.” It takes superhuman self-control for Kara to sound polite.

“No, no, I mean I actually need a travel book this time, can you believe it? I met this great girl, and she wants to go to Paris. And I know, I know, I could just get an app, but she likes newspapers and writing notes, so why not a proper guidebook, right?”

“Paris is quite beautiful this time of year,” Cat answers for her. “And would you look at that? There’s a whole section right here. Now, I’ve only ever used a street map and a Michelin guide, but you seem like a smart boy who knows what he wants.”

“But you’re… I mean, I still have my book from when…”

“I’m so glad you treasured it. Here’s a Lonely Planet, will that do?” Cat foists the book on him, leading him back towards the door like she manhandles grown men every day.

“But I have to pay-”

“It’s on me,” Cat insists, and then he’s out the door and she’s flipping the vintage sign to ‘closed’. “Now,” she says, turning back. “Where were we?”

“I was running away.”

“Oh yes. Abs and all.” When Cat grins, it’s not as bright as it might be. “But it seems I’ve caught up to you. I’ve missed you, Kara. I had to work earlier, but I’m free now.”

“Free for…?”

“Well, I thought dinner might be a start.” Cat leans across the counter, smoothing Kara’s necklace where it’s tangled slightly against her collar. “Hopefully without any punks causing a scene this time. I especially liked the whole pizza in your living room deal.”

“Cat-”

“Oh, I know that tone,” Cat shushes her, finger moving to her lips. “And you’re thinking I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t crashed the set yesterday. That you’ve forced my hand in some way. That’s why I brought this.”

She picks up a wrapped parcel that’s been leaning against her leg while they talk. “I brought this with me to London. It’s been hanging in my apartment in New York, and every time I looked at it, I thought there’s a better home for this, you know?”

“Can I open it?” Kara has always been giddy about presents.

“No, not while I’m here. You’ll make me blush. Or at least not until we’ve talked about dinner. I know how you feel about food.”

Kara takes a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the way her heart is beating. She has to be smart, be sensible. Has to take responsibility for the moping, miserable mess she’s been for months.

“Would it be okay, if I just said… well, no?”

The expectant smile on Cat’s beautiful face fades, inch by inch. “You don’t want to have dinner?”

“I just… talking to Carter made me realize what all this could have cost you. How lucky I was that the intrusion wasn’t worse. Maybe someone normal could adjust, but there’s a reason I live my life in the shadows. Anyone looking too closely at me could find out secrets that I can’t afford to share.”

“What did Carter say, exactly?”

“Don’t be mad at him,” Kara pleads, though she doubts Cat is ever anything but patient with her son, from the little she’s seen of them together. “He just gave me perspective.”

“So you’re being noble? Saving me from scandal, and yourself from the paparazzi?” Cat grips the edge of the counter. It makes Kara feel queasy to have upset her like this, but she has to do the right thing for all of them. “You know this fame thing is bullshit, right? If I’m careful, if we’re smart, we can avoid it so much of the time.”

“It’s not just that. I don’t fall in love often. At all, really. Everyone always says I have this big heart, that I love too easily, but that’s the simple stuff. I love my sister, I love my friends. I’ve dated, I’ve put myself out there. But nothing, no rejection or heartbreak, has ever come close to the agony I’ve been in since you stormed out on me all those months ago.”

“Kara-”

“No, please. Let me finish. This is maybe the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say. Being with you is a dream. A fantasy. But just like one of your movies, it has to end. You’ll go on to have this amazing career, and your gorgeous family, and success… and I want that for you, I truly do. Me? I’ll be stuck here in Notting Hill, picking up the pieces. Only that’s really hard to do, because you are everywhere. Your picture in the paper, your movie posters on the bus, on the tube. I’ve tried not to look, I barely go online, but there you are anyway.”

“You’re right,” Cat concedes, before raising a finger in reproach. “About some of it.” She comes around the counter then, not much space for them both behind the register, but Kara isn’t complaining. “I’m also here, right now.”

“I will always think of you fondly, Cat,” Kara promises. “You’ll never be just a star to me, I’ll always remember the real you, that I’ve been so lucky to get to know.”

“Am I dying?” Cat sounds like she’s teasing, but those are definitely tears forming in her eyes. It might be a scene from one of her movies, except watching those never made Kara feel this hollow. All this time nursing her broken heart, and it turns out breaking Cat’s hurts ten times worse.

“We live in two different worlds” is the only way Kara can find to explain it. “And while I loved visiting yours, I don’t think I belong there, do you?”

“I’d like to think you belong with me.”

Kara gasps at the openness of the words. It’s almost enough to make her reconsider, but then Cat carries on.

“I know it seems like I’m desperately hanging on, but I’d give it all up tomorrow, you know. It’s nonsense. A game for adults, who really should know better. So far it’s cost me my marriage, a good portion of my sanity, and almost my son. I know that sounds ridiculous in a year where I’ve won more awards than I have bathrooms to keep them in, but I’ve never been less satisfied by my career.”

“Would you be satisfied with me? A bookstore owner? Not even a successful one? How are we going to date when you’re going back to the States tomorrow?”

“We’d think of something. Kara, I need to ask you one more favor. Can you look at me? Good. Now when you look at me, don’t think about movies or fancy dresses or camera flashes. I’m just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking you to love me.” Her lower lip trembles, and for the first time Kara knows she’s not the only one who fell too hard and too fast.

“I’d be honored to love you,” Kara admits. “But I’m not sure I’d survive it. I’m sorry, Cat.”

Cat nods, a little too enthusiastically given the circumstances. She skims a finger over the neatly wrapped parcel, before stepping back from Kara.

“Well, you take care. And if you’re ever in LA… well, I’ll just apologize for the city in advance. Goodbye, Kara.”

“Goodbye.” There’s an instant, in the handful of steps before the door chimes to signal Cat’s exit, when Kara could call the whole thing off. Give in to the silent macarena in her brain that’s screaming stop her, you idiot on a near-constant loop.

No. This is the mature thing to do. Absolutely for the greater good. Except that good is the last thing she feels as Cat walks out of her life.

“And that’s why,” Kara concludes, looking from Alex, to Hank, across at Lucy. “I told her that it wasn’t worth the inevitable heartbreak for both of us.”

“Well, I mean… that makes sense.” James breaks the awkward silence that descends over the group. They’re having breakfast at Kara’s favorite cafe, just moments from her home and store.

“Yeah,” Maggie chimes in. “I mean, who needs the drama of dating Cat Grant? Nothing but trouble from the moment you met her, right?”

“She did break your heart two times out of two,” M’gann supplies in support, lifting her chai latte in commiseration. Kara finishes her chocolate milk after offering a silent toast to her newest friend, one she’s told Hank they’ll be keeping even if he screws up their relationship. It had been worth saying just for his answering glare.

“And the thing about actresses,” Lucy says, “is that they’re all as mad as a box of frogs. A lucky escape, Danvers. Well done.”

Just then, Mike comes bundling through the cafe door like an overgrown Doberman. Kara hasn’t relented on letting him move back in, but seeing him socially hasn’t been entirely terrible. He rounds out their group now that everyone else is coupled off, even if she’d hurl herself into the sun before dating him.

“Am I late? Did I miss the big news?”

“Yes.” Kara sighs, because he’s always late. For everything. Maybe they didn’t have a concept of time on his planet. “And yes. But it’s not so big, really. I just wanted you all to know that Cat showed up yesterday after I went to her film set, and she asked if we could be together.”

“So why are you here? Is she here too? ‘Cause I want her to sign my boxers so I can put them on eBay.”

“First of all, ew,” Alex interrupts. “And second of all, Kara was just telling us that the best thing for her, and her broken heart, is to let Cat go.”

“Right, right,” Mike strokes his invisible beard. Somehow, he thinks it makes him look wise. “Turned her down. Got it.”

“Thanks,” Kara says to her sister, relieved someone else is doing the legwork for a moment. “So, Mike-”

“And you say I’m a moron,” he interrupts, bursting into fits of laughter. “Hoo boy, that is rich, coming from a grade A idiot like yourself. You nearly had me fooled, Kara. I thought you were so much smarter than me. But now? Total chump.”

“Hey!” Kara squeaks at him. “What are you babbling about?”

He gathers himself, wiping a tear from his eye. “Uh, you’ve spent months brooding over her. Totally tortured yourself. Then you get another chance, and you throw it back in her face? You’re lucky she didn’t slap you. Wait, did she slap you?”

“No! She was… she was really lovely about it, actually. I mean I did reject one of the world’s most beautiful women. Did I mention that she was planning to visit me anyway? She brought a gift. From her home.”

“That’s the package?” James asks, picking it up from where it rests against Kara’s chair. He tears the packaging, knowing how useless she is at taking the plunge with gifts. “Hey, I recognize this. Isn’t this in your store?”

He turns the framed painting around, brown paper ripped almost entirely away.

“Kara?” Hank pipes up, setting his double espresso down without taking a sip. “I do believe that’s the original.”

“Holy shit.” Lucy speaks for all of them. “An original Chagall, you’re looking at well over a mil-”

“That’s not what it’s about,” Kara cuts her off, eyes welling up. “The first day we met we talked about this painting, about the colors. She remembered.”

“You know.” Alex gets out of her chair and comes around the table to lay her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m beginning to think Mike has a point.”

“What?”

“The woman you’re crazy about showed up with an expensive, thoughtful gift… and you’re turning her down? Don’t get me wrong, I could kick her ass for hurting you, but this time I think you’re the one doing that.”

“She did… she did say a nice thing, or two.” Kara’s certainty falls away beneath her, just like the earth does when she flies. “I’m just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking you to love me.”

A quiet sigh goes up around the group, everyone recognizing the sentiment. She’d been wrong. Kara had picked the wrong play, and there was no time to fix it. Cat would be flying home today, and even though Kara could race her place across the Atlantic and win, the damage might already be done.

“Okay, I need to… I need to go to her hotel!” Kara says, seizing on a plan. “As fast as possible, but in a very normal, human way. I cannot blow this by outing myself. Any suggestions?”

“We’ve got our bikes,” Alex suggests, as she and Maggie spring into action, grabbing their motorcycle helmets. “Want to jump on the back?”

“Uh, sure.” Kara frowns. “Do you have a spare helmet?”

“Why?” Alex asks, leading them into the street. “Has your head suddenly become breakable?”

“Fair point. She’ll be at the Ritz. I think.”

As they rev the engines, Kara notices James helping Lucy into their car, and Hank, M’gann and Mike piling into the back.

“Is this a field trip now?” Kara groans, as Alex and Maggie bicker about Marble Arch versus Knightsbridge. Maybe she should say to hell with it and-

They’re in motion. Weaving in and out of traffic at a speed that makes Kara incredibly concerned for her sister’s safety. She doesn’t comment, not that Alex would hear her anyway. Just holds on tight and wills the motorcycle not to crash. Focusing on that drowns out the ticking clock in her head.

It seems Alex picked the right route, because in no time at all they’re roaring down Piccadilly, making the tourists gawp and the Londoners ignore them. While the engine is still idling, Kara rushes into the hotel a little too fast. She keeps her balance with her powers more than her feet.

“I’m here to see Ms Woolf,” she gasps. “Assuming she hasn’t left yet.”

The receptionist types into his terminal. “No guest of that name, sorry.”

“Oh.” Thousands of hotels in London. It doesn’t have to be this one. “Don’t suppose… A Ms Dickinson?”

“Ah, yes. Emily. Absolutely a guest here, but already checked out.”

“Dammit.” If it’s Heathrow she’s going to have to fly in herself, and Air Traffic Control get so pissy over unidentified flying bodies on their radar.

“However, she is attending a press conference in the Music Room, madam. A final act of promotion for her next film, I believe.”

“I could kiss you!” Kara shrieks, though she doesn’t. As carefully as she can manage, she follows the receptionist’s gesture towards a large private dining room. Inside there’s a rabble of press, at least a hundred. They’re all focused on the improvised stage at the front of the room. At the table atop it sits Derek the publicist, with Cat beside him. She looks dangerous today, lips red, her leather jacket a shade of black that draws Kara into it. Camera shutters keep firing, as Derek answers some banal question about which designer made her dress.

Then he throws it open to the floor, and the roar of a hundred shouted questions is as close to a migraine as Kara will ever experience.

One by one, her friends pile in through the door behind her. Support, love, all the safety and care she could ever need. They’re here for her, and they always will be.

“Yes, Simon?” Derek waves to some journalist with a notepad and pen.

“Cat, you’ve filmed in London twice in two years, and there are always rumors of new projects. How long will you be staying in the UK, now the film is wrapped?”

“I’m going home after this press conference. So keep the questions to ten words or less, please.”

“Siobhan?” Derek calls on the next journalist.

“On your previous trip to London, you were spotted in a compromising situation with a gorgeous young woman.” Kara wants to dart across the room and clamp a hand over the reporter’s mouth. “Anything ever happen with that? You had no date to the Oscars, after all?”

“I took my son, Carter,” Cat deflects. “But yes, that particular relationship didn’t work out. It happens. You’ve covered my sexuality ad nauseum. We’re just friends.”

“Better question - Kelly?” Derek warns.

Kara doesn’t hear Kelly’s question, because Cat has spotted her in the middle of the crowd. Time slows to a crawl as their eyes meet, and Kara can only hear the pounding of her own heart, loud, rapid, steady.

When Derek’s next call comes up, Rao help her, Kara raises her hand.

“Yes, you in the pink blouse? Wired, wasn’t it?”

“Kara Danvers, freelance,” she supplies instead. Lying publicly would be wrong. “Miss Grant, is there any chance that you and this girl-”

“Her name is Keira,” a nearby journalist says, unhelpfully.

“You and this girl might, given the right circumstances, be more than friends?”

The murmurs build to a roar when Cat stops Derek from shutting down the question, placing a hand on his forearm.

“That was what I hoped,” she replies, and the flashes go off at twice the rate to catch her leaning into the microphone. “But it seems that it wasn’t meant to be. Her decision, not mine.”

The crowd is worked up now, and someone finally realizes who’s asking the question. They start to jostle Kara, but she’s unmovable in the sea of people.

“So if-” she begins, but Derek cuts her off.

“One question per outlet,” he warns, until Cat touches his forearm again.

“I’ll take the follow-up.”

“Bet she will,” someone snorts from behind, but Kara can’t see who as she whirls around.

“So if she were to admit that she had been hasty, in fact almost stupid you could say, and that she’d like nothing more than to be more than your friend… what would you say?”

“Oh, there’d be no doubt about it. I’d say yes.”

Applause breaks out in the crowd of journalists, and Kara rolls her eyes at them. While she basks in the feeling of getting the girl after all, Cat whispers something to Derek, who calls on Simon again.

“Can you ask your question one more time?”

“What, how long are you staying in London?”

Cat leans into the mic once more, her eyes never leaving Kara. “Oh, I’d say for a good long while yet.”

“Kara?” Alex sounds so far away. “Kara, wake up, come on.”

“No,” Kara pleads, eyes resolutely still closed. “It’s such a lovely dream. Don’t make me.”

“Kara Danvers, get your alien ass out of this bed in the next ten seconds, or I have authorized Maggie to use maximum force.”

“That’s right, KD,” Maggie calls from across the room. “I’ve got a Super Soaker here, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Cracking one eye open, Kara hurls a pillow at her sister. It bursts on impact. “If Cat were here, she’d kick both your asses.”

“Just as well you’re old-fashioned about not spending the night before your wedding with the bride then, isn’t it?” Alex teases, ducking out of the mess of feathers. “And the Ritz are definitely going to charge you for that pillow.”

Kara sits up and stretches, reenergized by the sunlight pouring in through the window. What a perfect day to marry the love of her life, her very own fairytale ending.

Two hours later she’s standing with Hank outside the elegant reception room, finally free of the hair and makeup and dress assistance that make for a modern bride. Cat, and their friends and families, are waiting inside.

“It’s not too late,” Hank reminds her, arm linked with hers. “If we walk at a brisk pace, we could have the shop open before the lunch hour rush is over.”

“Have we ever had a lunch hour rush?”

“No reason it can’t start today. I’ll make sure we have one by the time you get back from your honeymoon.” Kara kisses his cheek, and he stands a little straighter. The music strikes up and Hank nods towards the open doors. “I believe they’re playing your song.”

Kara smiles.

Six crazy months since that press conference. Two countries on two different continents, and now they’re getting married, a month before Cat opens her first play in London, as both producer and star. She’s six seconds from walking down the aisle, and it’s never felt more like the right thing to do. The nerves stop chattering, the doubts melt away. Kara steps forward, just enough to see Cat waiting with the registrar, her creamy lace dress a vision that takes Kara’s breath and steals it clean away. Carter is beside her in his tux, curls tamed and his smile just as huge as they are.

Her family.

Hank at her side, everyone else there in the front row, beaming at her like their own happiness depends on it. Alex pats the pocket of her tux; she’s remembered the rings. Kara just has to move forward, and it’s all she can do to keep from floating.

“You’ve stopped looking,” Kara says, setting her book down to consider her wife. Cat is lying on the bench they’re sharing, head in Kara’s lap. They’re both wearing sunglasses as protection from the late morning sun, in their quiet communal garden, a few streets from Kara’s former house in Notting Hill.

“Looking at what?” Cat asks, engrossed in a script that was messengered over last night. With the play closing after a sellout run, it’s time to think about next year.

“Looking around, to see if people are watching. You’re finally relaxed.”

“Oh, that.” Cat smiles up at her, dropping the script to the grass beneath them and cradling her growing bump. “Well, you know how Londoners are. They don’t really care about the pregnant American actress and her beautiful wife.”

“How’s the script?” Kara punctuates the question by leaning over for a kiss. Her hand lies gently on top of Cat’s, and they wait for the baby to kick. “What do you think, Carter? LA in the spring?”

“Do we have to?” He looks up from his handheld game. “I haven’t mastered the accent here yet,” he adds, in a Dick Van Dyke level Cockney voice. “Besides, Alex is going to teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”

“Not likely,” Cat informs him. She swats Kara playfully. “Could you keep your family under control, please?”

“Still working on that,” Kara confesses. “You know, a lot of things are starting to film here now, for the tax breaks. Star Wars, a whole bunch of them.”

“You’d make a good Jar-Jar, Mom,” Carter teases.

“They still have the concept of grounded in England, young man,” Cat warns, but she’s still smiling. “Anyway, I don’t need to rush back to work afterwards. The projects will be there. I might even do another play.”

Kara runs her hand gently through Cat’s curls. “Good. Because I think we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be, don’t you?”

Cat sits up then, pulling Kara into a hug. “I do,” she agrees. “I absolutely do.”