likebrightness:

@lynnearlington also asked for this (but i’m writing it for you bc lynne sucks)

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On her nightly flyby, Kara sees Cat is still in her office far later than she should be. It’s almost midnight, and she’d sent Kara home at six. Kara assumed she’d gone home, too—there’s nothing particularly pressing going on right now. But the light is on in Cat’s office, and she’s on her balcony, empty glass beside her.

Kara considers landing as Supergirl, but she wants to get Cat home, and thinks Kara Danvers is probably better equipped for that. Well, not really, of course, Supergirl could much more easily fly Cat home, but somehow Kara doesn’t think that’s a great idea.

So she does a quick change and comes in from the elevators instead of the balcony, pretends she forgot something at her desk, pretends she’s surprised to see Cat.

“Miss Grant?” she says quietly from the balcony doorway. “What are you still doing here?”

Cat doesn’t look at her. Kara takes a step closer.

“Miss Grant?”

“Spring is my favorite season,” Cat says, which is nice, Kara likes learning things about her, but it’s October.

“Okay.”

“National City has a good spring, considering it barely has a winter.”

“Right.”

Kara wonders how much Cat’s been drinking, wonders why Cat’s been drinking.

“What’s your favorite season,” Cat finally looks at her and Kara thinks they’re having a moment, and then, “Kiera?”

Right. Kara looks at her feet, rallies, and looks back to Cat, gives her a smile.

“I love fall,” Kara says.

Cat doesn’t even roll her eyes like Kara expects. Kara knows it’s basic to like fall, but she likes it anyway, likes the crisp air when she flies. She takes herself on a fall color tour—one year she flew all the way to New England, just to look at the trees.

“Good,” Cat says. “If you like fall, you should like fall.”

Kara bites her lip instead of giggling. “Miss Grant, can I call you a car?”

“You should like whatever you want,” Cat says. She’s not quite slurring. “Be proud of it. Fall. Leggings as pants. Pumpkin spice lattes.” She wags a finger in Kara’s direction. “The world wants you to hate women who like pumpkin spice lattes. Because, misogyny.”

“Yes, Miss Grant.”

Cat would kill her for thinking it, but she can be cute when she’s drunk. Sometimes she gets sad, but sometimes she’s like this, earnest and adorable.

“If I drank coffee based on flavor instead of based on its ability to help my hangover and wake me up, I’d probably drink pumpkin spice lattes,” Cat says.

“I’m sure a pumpkin spice latte would wake you up just as much as a regular latte, Miss Grant,” Kara says, trying not to smile too big.

Cat looks at her skeptically. Cute, Kara thinks. She’s definitely cute.

Cat shrugs eventually, and drops herself into a chair. “Take me home, Kara.”

Kara swallows. “What?”

Cat waves her hand vaguely. “Call me a car.”

“Right,” Kara says. “Right.”

–

Kara is a little afraid she’s going to get herself fired, handing Cat a pumpkin spice latte the next morning. Cat freezes after the first sip. Kara prepares herself for yelling, but what she gets is quirked lips and an honest-to-God wink.