Side note: I haven’t written smut in literal years, but I gave it the ol’ college try.
–
Kara truly enjoyed her job as Cat Grant’s assistant, something that no one else seemed to believe. Yes, her job was demanding. Yes, Cat was difficult at best, but Kara liked the challenge. Cat Grant was one of the first humans that Kara actually understood. She could anticipate Cat’s needs and assist the woman before even being asked. Cat pushed Kara to excel, and nothing brought Kara more joy than when was able to exceed even Cat’s expectations.
There was one downside to being Cat Grant’s assistant, however. Cat Grant was a gorgeous woman, and as her assistant, Kara spent almost every moment at work either by her side or right outside her glass office. Spending an extended amount of time with a beautiful woman shouldn’t be the one negative of Kara’s job, and yet, it was like a special brand of torture to follow Cat around as she sashayed through the office, no hope of ever acting on her attraction.
Most of the time Kara could ignore her growing interest for her boss or write it off as hero worship. Most of the time, Cat’s demands were enough to keep her distracted. So, when Kara received a text from Cat before her boss arrived at the office, she was grateful for something to do to stop her current train of thought. She was grateful, at least, until she opened the message.
Cat: Fired personal shopper. Go to La Perla and grab my latte on your way back to the office.
Kara felt her face flush as she read the name of the designer. The designer that specialized in lingerie…
It’s as if Cat could sense Kara’s hesitation because a second text quickly followed.
Cat: Chop chop.
This quickly set Kara in motion. It wasn’t a big deal, she told herself. It’s just like picking up Cat’s dry cleaning or purchases elsewhere. The clerk will hand her the bag, and she’ll be off. As long as she doesn’t imagine what’s in the bag, she’ll be fine.
When Cat left for Washington, it was with a promise that they’d talk more, that she’d give Kara article feedback in real time, not a year after the fact. Just like everyone else, Cat doesn’t keep the promise.
So Kara isn’t especially in the mood for Cat’s call when it comes, too early in the morning because the only relevant timezone is the one Cat finds herself in. Still, it’s got to be better than staring at the ceiling and not sleeping.
“Yes?” Kara has never answered the phone so curtly in her life. It feels surprisingly good.
“You’re a god now?”
Another time, Kara might have fumbled for an excuse or barely-believable lie. This morning she’s still tired of Kara Danvers, missing Krypton and her parents more than anything. If Cat Grant wants to talk to Supergirl, then that’s who she’s going to get.
“Hello, Cat. You sound jealous.”
A snort of derision.
“Are you jealous?” Kara pushes. She wants to hear it. Wants the unflappable Cat from C-SPAN to come home and be hell in high heels five days a week to Kara again. She wants a lot of things, and she’s tired of having none of them.
“I’ve had seven stalkers, but I’ve never been the focus of an entire religion,” Cat complains. “It hardly seems fair.”
“It’s not like I asked them. This is what makes you finally tell me that you know?”
“It felt a little overdue. I would have told you during the Daxam mess, but you were pining over some boy. I’m glad that embarrassing phase is over.”
“You were avoiding me in case I got my sad all over you?” Kara gets out of bed, pacing back and forth across her living room just a little too fast. “That’s not exactly supportive.”
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate being told that you were too busy being in love with the idea of some star-crossed romance to notice that you were having a relationship with a walking Reddit comment.”
“Wow.”
Cat actually sounds worried for a moment. “Did I go too far?”
“He wasn’t that bad.” The protest sounds weak even to Kara.
“When are you going to date someone worthy of you?” Cat demands, just as she told Kara to realize she was astonishing, and to stand up for herself.
“I guess when someone worthy asks. Or lives on the right side of the country at least.”
“Oh please. If I ever acted on this spark of attraction between us, you’d fly off so fast that you’d hit Mars before I could finish propositioning you. Which is a shame, because I have some frankly scandalous lines that would bring out that charming blush in you. Still, maybe one of your cultists will ask. You can go out with matching ‘S’s on your chests.”
“You know, it drives me crazy that you didn’t research that. It’s not an ‘s’. It’s a Kryptonian symbol, and the crest of my house.”
“How very Hogwarts of you.” Kara waits. She knows Cat’s curiosity is strong enough to prove the saying correct. “So what does it stand for, pray tell?”
“Stronger together,” Kara says. “Which we could be, if you’d stop assuming you know everything and just asked me out. Ms Grant.”
“I’ll consider it. Go, be worshipped or whatever it is you’re doing today.” And she hangs up without saying goodbye, because sometimes Cat her former boss is still absolutely the same as Cat the person.
Kara clutches her phone to her chest and blinks a few times to make sure that really did happen, that she’s awake and on the right Earth. Her phone bleeps a minute later, the restaurant name and time for tomorrow lighting up the screen. Definitely real.
Rushing off to shower, Kara wonders if Rao heard her prayers after all. If not, the universe is doing just fine in his place.
Kara is bewildered when Cat wanders into work half an hour late, oversized sunglasses on and the top button of her shirt only half shoved through the hole. She heats the latte up quickly and hurries into Cat’s office. With a small burst of speed, she fixes the button before Cat can realize anything is amiss and then stands, smiling and waiting for Cat to greet her. Cat sits, bracing her head with her hand.
“Rough night, Ms. Grant?”
Cat slowly removes her glasses and stares her down. “You could say that.”
Kara sniffs hesitantly, to check if there’s still alcohol on Cat’s breath. There’s nothing but the faint hint of fresh mint toothpaste and the pungent aroma of coffee. This isn’t a hangover, then, which leaves her wondering what Cat could have possibly gotten up to the night prior. Her cheeks flush red at the thought of Cat being physically involved with someone else. Perhaps she’d been so active that there hadn’t been much sleep, leaving Cat exhausted for her busy day. Kara’s fingers curl too tightly around her tablet, and the screen cracks at the edges.
Kara’s out most of the day chasing down sources for her story on the rash of bank robberies in National City over the past month, although she checks in on the CatCo building regularly, knowing Cat is back in town today.
The AGM for shareholders is usually a lavish affair, one Cat could just about tolerate as CEO. Now she’s invited as a courtesy, no longer queen of her own media empire. Unfortunately her mother will be there too, having clung on to the shares Cat gave her out of misguided sentiment years ago. So much for finding the company tacky; she certainly doesn’t mind the money it makes her.
By the time Kara gets back, having stopped one of the robberies in progress as Supergirl, she’s barely thinking about the meeting at all. She hears Katherine Grant long before she sees her, making a sniffy comment about how much better the company seems to be doing since Cat left to go be a government stooge. Kara doesn’t need to hear Cat’s reaction to picture the tight line of her mouth and the hurt in her eyes. Zipping up a few floors, she interrupts their conversation before they even notice she’s there.
@lynnearlington also asked for this (but i’m writing it for you bc lynne sucks)
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.
“Um, Kara?” Alex bit back a laugh as she watched a hacked security camera’s footage. “Did something happen to your usual costume?”
On screen, Kara halted mid-punch–much to the bank robber’s very visible relief–and glowered. “It’s Halloween, Agent. Isn’t it your planet’s custom to dress up?”
Alex didn’t bother fighting off her snort of derision. “Kar, you never even trick-or-treated. The time for playing dress up for candy is long over.”
Kara dragged the robber toward his buddies, bound them all together, and took off as the police arrive to clean up. Alex lost visual, but Kara’s voice still came in clear through their audio connection.
“Look. I… Can we just let this go?”
Alex leaned back in her chair. “Maybe. Or maybe this is too juicy to just let you get away with. What’s with the cat ears?”
Question of Smoke 