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Cat was debating if she should answer the door herself or send Carter, but as soon as Kara knocks, Carter is halfway to the door, so the decision is made for her.
“Hey Kara!”
“Hey!”
Cat hears Kara’s voice but can barely see her face. She's carrying two pumpkins stacked on top of each other. Cat wonders how she held them as she flew over, or if she was so committed to her charade as to take a cab.
“Can I take one of your pumpkins for you?” Carter asks.
“That'd be awesome, thanks.”
Carter takes the top pumpkin, and Cat forgets to pretend she wasn't looking, is greeted by the full force of Kara’s smile. It softens when Kara looks at her.
And looks at her. She just stares for a moment, and Cat feels slightly less embarrassed that she tried three different outfits before settling on this one. Kara blushes then, one hand coming up to fiddle at her glasses while the other has no trouble balancing the pumpkin she's still holding.
“Miss Grant,” she says. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“C’mon, we can put the pumpkins down here,” Carter says, leading Kara to the kitchen counter where his and Cat’s pumpkins are. “Can I take your coat and bag for you?”
Cat is proud of his manners, prouder still that he asked Kara here in the first place. She's his friend, as strange as that may seem, and Cat knows reaching out is hard for him. She's proud he did anyway, and glad Kara’s unflappable enthusiasm made it easier on him.
“My coat yeah,” Kara says, shrugging it off. Her oversized sweater beneath it hangs off one shoulder. Cat looks away. “Not my bag, though—I brought goodies!”
Carter hangs her coat up, then turns excitedly to see what she brought. Kara produces a Ziploc bag full of something white and black.
“Puppy chow!”
When it becomes clear Cat and Carter have no idea what that is, Kara says, “Muddy buddies?”
Still nothing.
“Whatever you want to call it, it's the best,” she tells Carter. “Chocolate and peanut butter coated Chex covered in powdered sugar.”
“Are you trying to give my son cavities?”
Kara’s eyes go wide. “No, Miss Grant, of course not! I—”
“Ignore her,” Carter says, and Cat can't see but she's certain he rolled his eyes. “She's in a mood.”
Cat is tempted to immediately protest, but fears that may prove his point.
She isn't in a mood. She knows what she is, actually; she just doesn't want to admit it. All day she's been pacing and cleaning and checking in with the weekend staff at Catco too often. It's gotten worse the closer it came to Kara’s arrival. Even though Kara tends to be the equivalent of a golden retriever puppy, Cat doesn't like the idea of her in Cat’s personal space, her home. It was one thing for Kara to join them at the haunted house. She’s taken Kara to events before, is used to Kara by her side in public. But having Kara in her home is allowing a new level of—not intimacy, exactly, but something. Something Cat doesn’t know what to do with. She hasn't had someone here in years besides housekeepers and babysitters and her ex-husband, though he isn't allowed over the threshold. Carter has friends over, very occasionally, and Cat tells herself that's all that's happening now. Kara is here as Carter’s friend, not as Cat’s...anything.
Carter goes off to get a bowl for the puppy chow, and Kara takes a step toward Cat, reaches back into her tote bag.
“I brought something for you, too, Miss Grant,” she says, pulling out a small bottle of Cat’s preferred bourbon.
“Can I not have any ‘puppy chow’?” Cat says instead of thank you.
“You can have anything you want, Miss Grant.”
Kara immediately goes bright red. Cat’s surprised she doesn't drop the bourbon, the way she fumbles in her haste to turn back toward Carter.
“Keep the extra in the freezer,” Kara tells him. “I don't know why, but it’s best when it's cold.”
She sets the bourbon on the counter next to her pumpkins, then she and Carter hop up on stools, the bowl of puppy chow between them.
Cat uproots her feet from where they've been since Kara knocked. She breezes into the kitchen, swiping the bottle of bourbon as she goes. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Cold cider,” Carter says. Cat throws a glare his direction and he says, “Oh. I think she was talking to you.”
Kara bumps her elbow against Carter’s. “Make that two cold ciders please.”
Cat purses her lips and gets out glasses.
“Your house is beautiful, Miss Grant.”
Cat knows it is, and also knows Kara would say it even if it weren’t. Kara was raised well. Cat wonders if they had the same manners on Krypton, the same societal conventions. She wonders how much Kara had to learn after she landed. She makes a mental note to ask Supergirl whenever they have their next interview.
“And it, uh, smells really good?” Kara says like it’s a question. She’s looking furtively around the apartment like she’s not sure she’s allowed to.
“Mulled wine,” Cat says. She slides a glass of cider to each of them, keeps one for herself. “For after the carving tools have been put away.”
“Right, yes, good idea, because alcohol.”
Carter guffaws at Kara, and Cat’s surprised puppy chow doesn’t come out his nose.
“Are you nervous?” he asks.
Kara glances, just for the briefest of moments, at Cat, then back to Carter. “What? No. Why would I be nervous? I’m not nervous.”
“You’re totally nervous,” Carter laughs. “I know my mom tries to be scary at work and stuff, but she’s really not that bad.”
Cat is about to defend herself, but Kara does it first.
“Miss Grant’s not scary at work.” Kara’s voice is strong. “A little intimidating, maybe, because she’s so smart and capable and—stuff. She’s demanding, and she’s right to be—Catco’s output proves that. But she’s not scary.”
Cat blinks, and takes a sip of her cider, and is grateful Carter rolls his eyes skyward so she doesn’t have come to up with a response.
“Okay,” Carter says. “I’m gonna take you on a tour, and then we’re gonna come back and carve pumpkins and you’re not gonna be nervous anymore. We’ll start with my room. It’s this way.”
Carter heads off down the hall and, with one more glance at Cat, Kara follows. Cat can hear Carter put on his tour guide voice, and she can hear Kara talk over him—“I’m not nervous.”—their voices disappearing as they get farther away.
Cat’s heart settles in her chest. Nervous Kara is something she knows how to handle. Cat knows the exact tone of voice that will make her relax, the exact look that will calm her. The anxiety of having Kara in her house is overshadowed by the task of making Kara comfortable.
By the time Kara and Carter return, Cat has cardboard boxes lying flat across the tile. She didn’t move the pumpkins to the floor herself, not that she couldn’t, but—Kara’s a superhero. And of course, as soon as Kara sees the cardboard is set up, she rushes to the pumpkins and moves them gently to the floor. Cat looks at the curve of her bicep and then pointedly at her face instead.
“Thank you, Kara,” she says.
Kara beams, just as Cat knew she would. “Of course, Miss Grant.”
“We only have two carving sets,” Carter says, “but I’ll share. I don't know about Mom. She's particular about her tools.”
Cat rolls her eyes. “Are you going to spend the whole night talking about me as though I’m not here?”
“What? You are!”
She doesn’t deny it. “You can’t carve a pumpkin without the right tools. But I’m not so particular I won’t share with a guest. We have to clean the pumpkins before getting to carving anyway.”
“Cleaning’s my favorite part,” Kara pipes up.
Carter makes a face. “It’s gross.”
“No way, man,” Kara says. “Cleaning gets you all the seeds, which are delicious when you roast them.”
“Do you think about anything other than food?” Carter asks.
Cat presses her lips together so she won’t laugh.
“Not usually,” Kara grins.
Cat offers Kara the kitchen knife to take the top off her pumpkin. “Guests first.”
Kara makes quick work of hers. She goes to hand the knife back to Cat, but Carter sneaks his hand in and steals it.
“Carter, be careful!”
He rolls his eyes. “I'm thirteen, not three.”
Cat huffs but lets him continue. She watches closely as he has absolutely no trouble cutting the top off his pumpkin.
“I told y—”
“Carter, if you want to live to fourteen, you won't finish that sentence,” Cat says.
Kara and Carter share a look and a giggle, and Cat fights a smile. She busies herself with cutting the top off her own pumpkin so she doesn't have to think about how good it feels to have the two of them in the same room.
“What are you gonna carve in yours?” Kara asks Carter.
“Supergirl’s crest.”
Kara spills her cider.
Before Kara can apologize—which she doesn't have to do, she only spilled on the cardboard—Cat says, “Paper towel is on the counter.”
Kara leaps to her feet to get to it.
As she’s focusing on the spilled cider, looking at it harder than she needs to, she says, “So, uh, Supergirl’s crest?”
“I’m not good enough to do a fancy one of actually her,” Carter says. “But the crest is what’s most important anyway. What it stands for. The way it makes people feel safe.”
“Right, yeah, that sounds super great,” Kara says, getting up to throw away the wet napkins. She laughs, loud and awkward and Cat has heard this laugh for months, every time she’s questioned where Kara disappeared to when she was on Supergirl business. Carter is too busy scooping seeds out of his pumpkin to notice how awkward Kara’s being. “Super great,” she says again. “Get it?”
“We get it,” Cat drawls. “Your wit astounds us all.”
Kara shrugs, smile goofy and precious, if that was a word Cat used, as she folds herself back to sit cross legged in front of her pumpkin. “And what are you going to do, Miss Grant?”
Cat knows before she responds that Kara is going to question her on this. “The Catco logo.”
“That's not a little,” Kara pauses like she realizes this is a bad idea, but she says it anyway, “conceited?”
“That's what I said,” Carter mumbles.
“It seemed only appropriate if we had a Supergirl pumpkin to have a Catco pumpkin, given that Catco launched her, and my balcony seems to be one of her favorite places,” Cat says. She’s not surprised when Kara fiddles with her glasses. “And I don't think it's conceited to think I’ve helped the girl, not just with media coverage, but personally. She's strong and smart, but she's young, and I've offered her guidance.”
She’s young, Cat tells herself again as she looks at Kara. Not that she needs the reminder. Of all the things she thinks about Kara, she’s young and she’s your employee are the most common.
“I'd almost call us friends,” Cat says instead of letting her mind wander down that path again. “If she'd ever give me her number. Lord knows I'd rather spend time with her than most people.”
Kara spills her cider again. She almost trips on her way to get more paper towels. Cat is surprised Supergirl doesn’t fly directly into buildings more often.
“Mom, if you’re friends with Supergirl, we should have her over for dinner sometime,” Carter says.
Cat smirks at Kara, who is wiping at the cardboard repeatedly even though the spill was small enough that she's already gotten it. “If only we could be so lucky.”
Kara doesn’t comment, just gets up again to throw away the paper towel, then rejoins them.
No one would believe it, but Cat thoroughly enjoys cleaning out a pumpkin. She doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty as long as it’s on her terms. Gutting a pumpkin gets immediate results, and she likes that. She can’t help but grin as she scoops seeds and flesh out. Carter, meanwhile, grimaces the whole time.
Then Kara says, “Ready to carve!”
“What?” Carter whines. “How did you clean it that fast?”
“You want me to do yours?”
“Yes, please!”
Carter hands over his pumpkin. Kara gives a grin, slides her hand in with the scraper and—it’s less than five seconds before she’s scooping out handfuls of pumpkin flesh.
“What?” Carter says again.
“It’s all in the wrist,” Kara smiles guilelessly.
Cat can't decide if she'd rather make a joke about that innuendo or about the fact that she's fairly certain Kara used superspeed to clean the pumpkin. With Carter nearby, she makes neither.
“I can do yours, too, Miss Grant,” Kara offers.
“You’re covered in pumpkin guts on my floor, I think you can manage to call me Cat.”
Kara looks like she’d like to adjust her glasses, but she’s still got the scrapper in one hand and pumpkin flesh in the other.
“I can do yours,” Kara says, a long pause before adding, “Cat. If you’d like me to.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
As Kara pushes Carter’s pumpkin back toward him and then reaches for Cat’s, Cat catches her son’s eye. He is positively smirking at her and, not for the first time, she wishes he took after her a little less. He’s too observant for his own good. She tilts her chin up and looks away, looks at Kara instead, and sees out of the corner of her eye that that just makes Carter smirk more.
And then Kara is already done with her pumpkin, sliding it back toward her.
“All ready for carving.”
“Thank you.”
Kara flushes at the gratitude, and Cat considers being more vocal when Kara does well at work.
Carving goes well. Carter and Kara chat a little, but it’s mostly quiet. Carter is determined with his stencil. Cat uses a ruler and measurements she worked out earlier. Kara does neither, just goes at her pumpkin with a saw borrowed from Cat. She constantly adjusts her position, and every once in a while her toes brush against Cat’s leg. Neither of them acknowledge it except the small intake of breath Cat can’t help every time it happens.
No surprise, Kara finishes first.
“How are you already done?” Carter asks.
Kara shrugs. “Yours is harder, with the stencil and everything. It’s bound to take longer.”
She turns her pumpkin around.
She’s carved the face and front paws of a cat, like it’s ready to jump out of the pumpkin and play. It’s adorable, and Cat wants to hate it. She doesn’t, though, and the reason why is looking over at her from the floor behind the pumpkin, biting her lip in a half-smile and raising her eyebrows in a question that doesn’t stay silent.
“Do you like it, Miss Grant?” Kara asks quietly.
“A cat. How original, Kiera.”
Kara’s shoulders sink, and Cat purses her lips instead of taking the words back.
“It's really cute, Kara,” Carter says. “I can’t believe you did it without a stencil or anything.”
Kara gives him a small smile. “Thanks, Carter.”
Cat can’t help her knee-jerk reaction to plays on her name. She’s dealt with them since she was a kid, and she should be powerful enough to not have to anymore. The pumpkin is beautifully carved—Cat didn’t expect Kara to be so talented—but it’s overshadowed by the cat pun.
Cat focuses on finishing her own pumpkin instead of analyzing the slump of Kara’s shoulders. Kara gets started on her second pumpkin, and her foot doesn’t brush Cat’s leg again.
Cat knows Kara and Carter likely won’t be impressed with her finished pumpkin, but she turns it around for their approval anyway. She’s proud of it.
“Nice, Mom,” Carter says, barely looking away from his own pumpkin.
Cat looks at Kara, who’s smiling like Cat didn’t let her down five minutes ago.
“It looks great, Miss Grant,” Kara says.
“Kara. You didn't have a problem calling me Cat in the haunted house, why can't you do it here?”
Kara turns three shades red. Cat suspects she hoped Cat had missed that somehow, that slip when Kara was holding her close. Protecting her. Kara had practically declared she was Supergirl, but the thing Cat couldn't get over was the way her name sounded coming out of Kara’s mouth. She wants to hear it again, to milk this time they have together out of the office.
She wonders if Carter will find a way to invite Kara to Thanksgiving.
“It looks great, Cat,” Kara says.
Cat smiles, pleased. “And now it’s time for mulled wine.”
“I thought that wasn’t until the carving tools were put away,” Kara says.
“My tools are yours now,” Cat says. “So I get to drink.”
On her way to the stove, she trails her fingers over Kara’s back. It’s as close to an apology that Cat can offer for being rude about Kara’s pumpkin.
Cat pours herself a mug of wine and sits on a stool at the kitchen island to watch the other two. Kara takes a moment to grin up at her before going back to her second pumpkin.
It's easy to flirt with Kara, easier still to flirt with Supergirl, to allow herself these schoolgirl butterflies when there is no chance for anything more. Flirting with Kara is like eating M&M’s or drinking bourbon, it's all fine in moderation. Just enough to make Kara babble and blush and beam, enough to make Cat feel warm inside but not so much to melt her ice queen heart.
At work it has the extra benefit of throwing Kara off balance, giving Cat the upper hand. In her home, it’s not quite working the same. It seems to be making Kara confident, and Cat refuses to analyze that.
Cat can’t see what Kara is carving. She must have the design on her phone, the way she’s got it propped up next to her pumpkin to look at while she works. Before Cat can worry too much about what it might be, Carter finishes. He shows them his pumpkin with a small smile.
“You did a great job,” Cat says, and Carter’s smile grows.
It gets bigger still when Kara gapes and says. “Dude, that looks awesome.”
She leans over for a high five, which Carter gives enthusiastically.
“I’m gonna tell James you did it, and maybe he’ll let Supergirl know,” Kara says. “I’m sure she’d be excited to see it.”
Carter’s jaw drops. “You think so?”
“I mean, she might be busy, but if she has the time, definitely.”
Carter looks at Cat, mouth still open. “You think Supergirl would like it?”
“I don’t see why not,” Cat grins. “It’s wonderful, and she seems to have excellent taste.”
Kara ducks her head and goes back to her own pumpkin. Carter is still shell-shocked as he gets himself a mug of hot cider and joins Cat on the stools. Cat wonders if Kara realizes how rare it is for anyone to make Carter smile the way she can.
Carter nurses his cider and Cat her wine, and Kara glances up at them, then back at her pumpkin. Cat blinks and Kara’s finished and smiling up at her.
“I figured since you didn't like my first one, maybe you'd like this better,” Kara says.
“I didn't not like it.” Cat rolls her eyes, mostly at herself for admitting this instead of just letting it go. “It was...cute.”
“I’m not sure ‘cute’ is a compliment coming from Cat Grant,” Kara says.
Carter chuckles and Cat rolls her eyes again. “Stop fishing.”
“Is asking what you think of this one fishing?”
Kara finally turns her pumpkin around. It's the Pulitzer. She cut it to look like the goddamn Pulitzer Prize Gold Medal. Freehand, she did this. Cat’s amazed.
“It's not quite the one Catco should have gotten in April but…” Kara gives a shrug.
“Think it’ll fit on the mantle anyway?”
Kara’s entire body lights up at the idea that Cat likes her pumpkin enough to display it, so Cat doesn’t clarify that she mostly meant the comment as a joke.
“It’s Kara’s pumpkin, Mom,” Carter says. “She’s not going to leave it here.”
“Actually,” Kara says, “I’ve got more pumpkins I’m going to carve with my sister. I was going to leave these here, if that was okay.”
“You’re going to carve more than two pumpkins?” Cat asks.
“Well, uh, yeah?” Kara pushes her glasses up her nose. “Alex is still mad at me for going to a haunted house without her so it’s not like I can not carve pumpkins with her.”
“You didn’t have to carve pumpkins with us, though,” Carter says.
Kara moves all four pumpkins to the side of the cardboard and doesn’t look at him as she answers. “Sure I didn’t have to, but, um, you asked and I, uh, I had fun at the haunted house, yeah? So I wanted to hang out again? With both of you.”
Cat can see Carter hide a grin behind his mug of cider. She’s going to do the same, but Kara looks at her, nervous like she’s not sure she should have admitted that, and so Cat lets her see her smile. Kara basks in it.
“Now that you’re done carving, would you like some wine?”
“Yes, please. It smells wonderful.”
When Cat hands her a glass, Kara wraps her hand all the way around it, brushing their fingers together in the process. She takes a sip, and her eyes go wide.
“This is fantastic. How do you make it?”
Cat pauses, then says, “I could send you the recipe, if you wanted.”
“Please,” Kara says. Her smile is so soft Cat wants to wrap herself in it like a blanket.
“How is the new position going, Kara?” It’s as close to stop looking at me like that, you’re my employee as Cat can think of.
“Oh, Miss Grant,” Kara says and Cat does not correct her. “I love it. It’s—well, it’s not more responsibility, but a different kind. And it’s scary and sometimes frustrating and difficult and wonderful. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Cat says. “You earned it yourself, Kara.”
“Hey, Mom?” Carter says, and Cat is glad to have a reason not to look at Kara’s smile. “I feel like I have pumpkin all over me. Can I take a shower and go to bed?”
A list of the things Cat should say: you have a guest over, where are your manners, don't you dare leave me alone with her.
What she says instead, “Of course, sweetheart.”
He gives her a kiss on the cheek good night and turns to Kara. “Thanks so much for coming, Kara,” he says. “It was a lot of fun.”
“It was,” Kara smiles. “Thanks for inviting me.”
As Carter heads for his room, Cat prepares herself for Kara leaving as well.
“This mulled wine is really delicious,” Kara says. “Could I have a refill?”
Cat must not hide her surprise well, because Kara’s brow furrows and she adds, “Unless...should I go?”
“No, of course not,” Cat says briskly, taking Kara’s mug from her. “You can’t leave me to drink the rest of this myself.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Cat.” Cat doesn’t have to look at Kara to know she’s smiling.
When Cat returns with Kara’s cup, she sets it on the counter in front of her, doesn’t risk Kara touching her again.
“Think we scared Carter away with work talk?”
Cat shrugs. “I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did,” she says. “Socializing is not high on the list of things he likes to do.”
“I’m glad he invited me,” Kara says. “Thank you for letting me come.”
“I'm not in the habit of denying my son things he wants,” Cat says instead of admitting she wanted Kara there, too.
Kara calls her on it. “Yes, but you're also not in the habit of spending time with employees outside of work.”
“You're my only assistant who lasted more than six months,” Cat says, wonders if this is admitting too much. “You've always been the exception.”
Kara grins into her mug as she takes a sip.
“This is delicious,” she says and Cat is grateful for the subject change. “I don't usually like alcohol, but this is like sunshine in a glass.”
They go through two more cups of mulled wine each. Between the second and third, Cat muses that she wonders if Carter is asleep yet.
“He is,” Kara says. “I mean, I’d bet he was.”
“Why?”
“Uh, didn’t you hear his bedroom door close a while ago?”
Cat smirks and changes the subject.
They talk about work, about Carter, about nothing. Kara listens, intently. She laughs at Cat’s quips, and lights up when Cat laughs at her own. Just like at the haunted house, Kara is bolder with Carter not nearby. She props her foot on the bottom rung of Cat’s stool. It pushes Kara’s knee into Cat’s thigh, and neither of them move away.
Cat is used to being the center of attention but this, being 100% of Kara Danvers’s focus, of Supergirl’s focus, is a lot. It makes her pulse beat faster. She wonders if Kara can hear it.
It's different than in the office. Kara listens to her then, focuses on her then. But this is a Saturday night in Cat’s home. Kara could be anywhere, with anyone. Kara didn't have to come over, didn't have to stay once Carter excused himself.
Cat lets her hand fall to Kara’s wrist as she makes a point and wonders if this no longer counts as moderation.
It’s almost two hours after Carter went to bed that Kara finally says, “I should probably get going.”
“Right,” Cat says, and nothing more.
Kara slides off her stool, her body suddenly almost pressed against Cat’s, but she moves quickly away, taking her mug toward the sink.
“Kara, please, you’re a guest,” Cat says.
She gets up and takes the cup out of Kara’s hands, takes it to the sink along with her own. She sets them both in it and turns around to look at Kara, who is leaning against the kitchen island a few steps away.
“Carter was excited about the idea that Supergirl would like to see his pumpkin, huh?” Kara says.
“Indeed,” Cat says. “You seem to excel at making Grants happy.”
Kara beams and Cat blames the wine.
“Do I really?”
“What did I tell you about fishing, Kara?”
“I can't remember,” Kara says, grinning. “I remember you said something I did was cute. Was that it?”
Cat rolls her eyes but the way she can't stop herself from smiling probably lessens the effect. She turns and rinses their cups in the sink so she has something to do with her hands.
When she turns back around, Kara’s face is solemn instead of smiling.
“If this is going where I think it’s going, Mi—Cat.” Kara swallows. The switch from playful to serious takes Cat a moment to process. “Where, uh, where I want it to go, and it seems like you want it to, too, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Kara’s babbling, and wringing her hands, and Cat hates when she does this in the workplace—she wants Kara to be strong and confident there, but here? Here, it makes Cat want to reach out and catch Kara’s hands in her own, ground her in the moment. Kara’s face looks like she’s in pain, which isn’t even a thing she can be, but Cat wants to soothe it anyway.
“Kara.” Her voice is gentle. Kara looks at her, eyes curious and hopeful and nervous still. “I don’t think there’s anything I need to know about you that I don’t already know.”
Cat can see it click in Kara’s head. Cat wants to let her off the hook, is the thing, wants to make this easy for her. She didn’t want to; before tonight she wanted Kara to tell her, wanted Kara to apologize for lying, to grovel. But tonight, with the wine and the smiling and all the flirting, Cat wants to make this easy on her. Kara knows Cat knows. Kara is a lot of things, but she’s not stupid, and she knows Cat isn’t either.
“You can tell me anything, I hope you know that,” Cat adds softly. “But there’s nothing you need to tell me.”
“Miss Grant—”
Cat clicks her tongue, barely holds back an honestly, Kiera.
“Cat,” Kara corrects herself and has nothing to say after it.
After a moment, Cat makes a decision.
“Can this go where you think it’s going now?” she says.
Kara nods, slowly. She takes a step closer.
“You’re sure?” Kara says.
Cat doesn’t know if she means about not needing to be told anything or about where this is going, but the answer to either is no.
She says yes anyway.
Kara steps closer still and slips her hands around Cat’s waist, not at all tentative. Cat shivers. Of course, in this, Kara is going to surprise her and be certain.
Kara’s eyes are wide and blue. Cat’s heart is going a hundred miles an hour, but Kara doesn’t look scared. She smiles, just a little, just enough to make Cat’s lips turn up, too, before Kara leans in the rest of the way.
Kissing shouldn’t be this extraordinary. It can be nice, but this is—this is something else. Cat feels like her entire body has become mulled wine, has become a crackling fire, warm and sweet and content. Kara’s tongue brushes softly against her bottom lip and Cat breathes in hard through her nose. She could do this all night.
When Kara pulls back, it’s not far. She bumps her nose against Cat’s and doesn’t seem to be able to stop smiling. Cat breathes Kara’s name against her cheek.
“Are you going to try to tell me all the reasons this is a bad idea?” Kara asks.
“I suspect you already know.”
“I do,” Kara agrees. “And some other time I'll tell you all the reasons it's a great idea. But for now can we just, let it be?”
She's still holding Cat by the hips. Cat’s skin hums where Kara’s fingers rest, gentle but firm, sure.
“Okay,” Cat whispers.
Kara kisses her again.