Happy birthday to my loveliest, @mermaidandthedrunks! I meant to write you a much longer and much higher quality fic, but obviously I procrastinated too much and ran out of time. And whatever, you’re like fine. I guess I think you’re okay. So this is an okay fic for an okay person with an okay face who I miss an okay amount. (JK, but seriously, THIS FIC IS NOT VERY GOOD AND I AM SORRY.)
Title from The Fool by Ryn Weaver. Many thanks to @grevgrev for beta-ing and cheerleading. 🙂
Supergirl starts visiting Cat every week. She drops down on the CatCo balcony, silhouetted by the fire red glow of the sunset. Sometimes she wants to talk; sometimes she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter to Cat either way. The idea of being, well, friends with a superhero is already incredible enough. Celebrities have never really fazed Cat – well, there was maybe that time she met Hillary Clinton early on her in career – but by now it’s old news. But seeing Supergirl week after week, talking to her, that feels powerful. Beneath that S on her chest is an alien. Someone not from this terrestrial planet they call home.
She doesn’t mean to do it, but Cat starts waiting for Supergirl’s visits. She anticipates them with a buzzing urgency that grows louder as the week progresses. Cat lingers in her office until everyone else has packed up and left, using layouts and editing as an excuse to watch for the flutter of Supergirl’s cape out of the corner of her eye. She wishes she were better about catching Supergirl before she approaches – Cat likes to watch her land, touch down on the balcony so naturally. She doesn’t even have to think about it. There’s something marvelous about how graceful it is.
Tonight Cat catches her seconds after she arrives. Cat smoothes a hand across the side of her pencil skirt, picks up her drink, and pushes open the glass door. Supergirl’s in a contemplative silence sort of mood, and they sit quietly for a few minutes, both looking over the city. Cat watches the cars and people, miniature from above, go about their business, unaware of Supergirl’s gaze.
“You must have work to do,” Supergirl says, breaking the moment, her hair falling forward across her face. Her muscled shoulders hunch uncertainly beneath the tight fabric of her suit.
fic: stack the deck with wild cards (supergirl; kara/cat)
Published
Question of Smoke 