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Kara is so caught up in the celebrations that she doesn’t even hear the ding of an elevator that’s been silent for two years. It’s one of those nights where she gets to slip back into the crowd as Kara Danvers, be around Nia and Brainy and all the CatCo employees who definitely don’t suspect she’s Supergirl. Probably. Like, it’s mostly a coincidence that they always have a party in the office for Supergirl’s biggest victories, and that those parties usually don’t start until Kara arrives in her regular clothes, but… yeah. That’s a problem for another night.
A night when Cat’s private elevator hasn’t dinged into life out of nowhere.
In that moment Kara’s as nervous as she ever was on a Monday morning with a laser-reheated latte in her hand. She parts the crowd of semi-drunk revelers as though they’re not even there. Nobody else has registered the elevator, of course. They can’t hear like Kara can. They haven’t been waiting for that one, simple sound every day they’ve come into CatCo since Cat walked away for a second time.
And then the doors slide open.
Cat, it goes without saying, is a vision in black. The skirt is leather, the top something silk and strappy and redder than blood. Her hair is lighter than Kara remembers it being, with just that delicious hint of silver at her temples, giving way to wavy blonde curls. She struts across the floor like she’s never been away, and the crowd parts like the Red Sea as always. Only one person can’t seem to get out of the way, and that’s Kara herself.
“What in the name of Bobby from Queer Eye have these people done to my offices?” Cat demands, marching into what used to be her sacred domain. From muscle memory alone, Kara follows in her slipstream, feeling every eye in the room on them both. “Can someone hire me an assistant? And then tell them to get Cliff Fong in here for a total revamp. I don’t care what beach hut he’s flipping for Ellen right now, get him here Monday.”
Kara looks around. No one else has been brave enough to get close, so that order sort of lands with her. Well, it’ll be nice, for old time’s sake.
“Ms Grant? We uh, weren’t expecting you.”
“Close the door, Kara.”
Well, at least she still gets Kara’s name right. That’s usually the first thing to go. Kara closes the glass door with no small amount of trepidation. She isn’t prepared for this. Usually an encounter with Cat requires list-making, research, and plenty of practice on focusing so the stupid, raging crush that never dies won’t rear up and derail everything.
“Did you need something? Ms Gr–”
“It’s Cat. You don’t have any problem calling me that while you’re in the cape, so don’t get cute with me now. Do you know why I’m here?”
Kara fumbles for an answer. “Well, no, I mean… I guess because there’s… a party?”
“Do you think I’m dressed like this,” Cat gestures to her admittedly gorgeous ensemble, and wow Kara hadn’t even noticed the killer heels with the delicate ankle straps before, “to attend an event catered with solo cups and cold pizza?” She throws the leather jacket she had over one arm down on Andrea’s desk.
“No?”
“Damn right. I’m supposed to be wining and dining a few Oscar winners and a couple of Governors at an exclusive charity event that even Meryl Streep got waitlisted for. But about an hour ago, on my way from the airfield, can you think what I saw that might have altered my plans?”
Kara isn’t sure where this is going, she’s still playing catchup on thirteen different things. “An hour ago? Well, lots of things were happening then. Was it traffic, maybe?”
“Traffic? Only if you mean traffic caused by Supergirl being knocked out of the night sky by a huge rock-thing about twelve times her size. I saw those agents take it down in the end, but you…”
Cat’s voice catches. It almost sounds like… no, it can’t have been. Still, Kara can’t work out where to go as Cat suddenly advances on her, pointing a finger in accusation.
“You didn’t get up. They waited and waited and eventually the coverage cut away. I had to call people. I had to threaten my former employees to get footage of you walking out of there. I’m told it took three agents to support you.”
All approaches seem closed to Kara in that moment. Denial? Pointless. Deflection? Cat would eat her alive for even attempting it. That leaves only one way out: acknowledgment.
“I’m fine. Yeah okay, not my most elegant landing and my powers were on the fritz for a hot minute there, but look at me. I’m all in one piece.”
Rao, Cat is close. Close enough that Kara can feel that classic, elegant perfume tickling her nose, see the lightest dusting of powder on Cat’s cheeks.
“And that’s supposed to be enough? I have watched you fall too many times. That goth Barbie version of you? Lex Luthor? Why do they all get so close to hurting you, Kara? You’re supposed to be… you’re supposed…”
Kara expects the little rant to dissolve into tears, but instead Cat’s hands form fists. Before Kara can register, those fists are beating on her chest in a drum roll of frustrated thumps that she can’t even feel. Cat punches out whatever has her so worked up, the curse words punctuating the beat perfectly. Only when she’s all thumped out do her shoulders slump, and Kara catches her, pulling her into a hug that’s apparently long overdue for both of them.
“Was that supposed to hurt?” She can’t help asking. “Because you know, I am pretty much invincible.”
“Shut up,” Cat replies, her head tucked against Kara’s neck, tears dampening the collar of her shirt. “Other times I’ve been able to handle it, I told myself you had a team. But seeing it happen when I was finally back in the city, just a few blocks away… something snapped.”
“I think you snapped,” Kara says, not being all that helpful. “But I guess it’s kind of nice to know that you care. I don’t really hear from you a lot these days. There have been a bunch of times when I really needed to.”
“I know.” Cat pulls back just a little, looking up at Kara. “I let you down because I didn’t want to distract you. I see now that no amount of country or distance is ever going to stop this… thing. So I may as well come back here to save CatCo and finish the job of mentoring you. Although, credit where it’s due, I think you’ve applied my initial lessons very well.”
“You’re coming back?”
Cat nods.
And Kara, Rao help her, is too happy at the news to do anything other than claim the kiss she’s wanted for all these years. She presses her lips to Cat’s and receives only welcome and encouragement when she does. They kiss like there’s no one on the other side of the glass, like nothing else matters, like they were always destined to share this kiss and all it means.
“Wow,” Kara says, the first to break contact. “You really did miss me, huh?”
“Don’t be unbearable,” Cat warns. “And let’s get out of this goldfish bowl. I have plans for you that would mostly certainly get us arrested if we invite an audience.”
Kara feels a thrill past through her like a bolt of lightning. As always, Cat Grant wastes no time once she decides what she wants. Kara has been ready for almost five years, so why delay the happy, thrilling inevitable.
“I think I can get us to your place quicker than your car service,” she suggests, picking up Cat’s jacket and helping her on with it. “You’ll have to hold on tight, though.”
“Don’t worry, Kara,” Cat says as she’s scooped up in Kara’s arms. “Now I have you, I have no intention of letting go.”