“What was that, Ponytail?”
Kara would give anything to sink through the floor right about now, but unfortunately that’s J’onn’s power and not hers. She doesn’t even get the comfort of erasing this entire exchange from Snapper’s mind. No, that power also belongs to J’onn.
Seriously, she’d trade frost breath in a heartbeat for the ability to erase everything about the last five minutes. Yeah her powers are decently cool, but why can’t she get the really nice ones like everyone else?
“I said I think the presence of anti-alien protesters in National City is worth covering,” she tries, pointedly misunderstanding what Snapper is asking her.
“Yeah no, I got that bit. Buried under three different layers of bias, but I got that far. It was the part where you called me a ‘weenie’ I was confused about.” Snapper doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Kara doesn’t trust that. The last time she’d pissed him off so badly he didn’t sound angry she’d spent an entire day poring over old phone records for the city capitol building.
And not because there was a story, either. No, Snapper had set her the task to see if she could find a lead on a story. But other than a few numbers for deliciously greasy pizza places that Kara carefully saved to her own phone for later, the search had turned up nothing.
“Sir, I don’t-”
“Oh shut it, Danvers. Did you or did you not just call me a weenie?” Now Snapper looks annoyed, and Kara wonders if that’s a good sign or not. Is he annoyed, or moving past incredibly pissed into another layer of rage?
“You’ll have to forgive her,” familiar and welcome voice comes from the doorway. “Kara is too nice to call you a prick, and I wasn’t around to do it for her.”
Okay, so maybe the ‘welcome’ bit had been a bit premature, Kara decides as she feels her face flush in embarrassment. Happy as she always is to see Cat, this is one conversation she really wishes she weren’t having right now.
“Cat, lovely of you to stop and say hi,” Snapper deadpans, turning to face Cat with a grimace. “Shouldn’t dating you come with a crash course in throwing better insults?”
“We’re still working on the dress code,” Cat snarks back, making Kara’s flush deepen. These conversations between her boss and her girlfriend (who is also technically everyone’s boss) always leave her feeling a confusing mixture of embarrassed and turned on. And it didn’t help when Cat used that tone, the one that pretends it’s so professional while still hinting at the memory of hours spent in bed.
Between Snapper’s world weary glare and Cat’s barely concealed anticipation and glee, Kara can only stumble over a few half finished denials mixed with apologies before Cat takes pity on her.
“Is your team done for the night, Snapper?” she asks, cutting off the flow of words from Kara with a wink and smirk.
“Fine,” is the grudging response, Snapper knowing when to fold. “Go play dress up then, and see if you can fit in a lesson on bias between that and how to throw an insult.”
Taking the escape before something else can come up, Kara beats Cat to the elevator by at least five feet. Once the doors close behind them, she’ll be safe.
“You seriously called him a weenie?”
Kara’s head hits the elevator wall with a thunk as she lets out a groan. Apparently ‘safe’ is a relative term.