#nb!vasquez

“I’m always stuck being DD.”

“Really?”

Vasquez spun their chair around. “You mention one time that you don’t really drink, and suddenly everyone thinks they can get as wasted as they want every time with a guaranteed chaperone to get them home in one piece.” They dragged their toes along the ground, slowing the movement of their chair. “And like, yeah, I’m not gonna leave anyone behind, but some nights it’d be nice if I could let loose a little. Not get drunk, but, you know, go to a different bar if the music sucks. Stop for a late dinner at a place that isn’t greasy fast food afterwards. Go home with someone. Not have to worry about throw up in your backseat.”

“Ugh, yeah, that doesn’t sound particularly fun.”

“It’s not. Especially not when it’s an every weekend kind of deal.”

“Well…is there anything we could do to make tonight more fun?” Lucy bit back a smile at the way Vasquez’s cheeks flushed as they rubbed at the back of their neck.

Still, they managed to come up with an answer after a few seconds’ delay as their brain ground to a halt, then restarted itself anew. “Um, you watch Brooklyn 99, don’t ya?”

“Okay, I’d do a lot of things for you, including taking a bullet, but I won’t get my ass handed to me for using our good fire extinguishers for a chair race.”

A loud laugh met Lucy’s words. “I was thinking more that we could see who can last longer without standing up. Like Rosa did with Hitchcock and Scully.”

“Oh! Yeah, alright.” After a moment, she tilted her head slightly. “Though is that really any different than anything else we’re already doing?”

“Good point. Hey, why don’t you go to the vending machines and get some things of M&Ms. I have an idea that I’ll get all set up while you’re gone.”

“They’re two floors down,” Lucy whined.

“That’s what you get for acting like the game doesn’t require skill. But if you want to be a quitter…”

Throwing a hand over her chest in mock offense, Lucy gasped. “Take it back.”

“Make me,” Vasquez taunted, arching an eyebrow and, for a change, not backing away from the heady undercurrent of flirtatiousness and desire that seemed to run between them whenever they were alone.

“I bet you I can be back in under ten minutes.”

“You’re on. I win, I don’t have to pay you back for the M&Ms.”

“I win, I get to use all the hair styling products I have in my bag to give you a new ’do.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Vasquez nodded. “Deal.” They looked down at their watch, counting out the last few seconds before the second hand hit the 12, then yelling, “Go!”

As Lucy’s chair skittered around the first corner, Vasquez pushed their own away from the desk, rolling over to their bag to pull out a laptop and a few cables. Within a matter of minutes, they had their computer hooked up to display on the massive center screen and a system in place for any alerts to override the speakers so they wouldn’t miss any emergencies.

With 30 seconds to spare, Lucy came sliding back in, hitting the edge of the desk and going spinning, finally stopping only after she crashed into Vasquez’s chair. “Bet I made it, huh?” Despite being slightly out of breath, she still managed to look smug.

“Barely.”

With a wink, she held her backpack aloft. “That’s ’cause I stopped and grabbed my bag from my office. Can’t wait to see what you look like a mohawk.”

“Maybe I won’t let you use my fancy computer setup to watch the ball drop after all.” Vasquez stuck out their tongue as Lucy pouted.

“C’mon, it’s just the two of us for the next four hours while Rosenberg and Anderson get to sleep before the overnight shift. Would you really deprive yourself of the fun?”

“Fine, fine.”

And with that, Vasquez ended up with an over-gelled mohawk. Which somehow turned into a game of seeing how many M&Ms they could toss into each other’s mouth and from how far away. Which turned into another bet. Which was how Lucy ended up with two pigtail braids that were perfectly even (“I had two younger sisters, don’t act so surprised.”).

Eventually, as the clock ticked nearer and nearer to midnight, Vasquez pulled up a live stream of the celebrations, and they settled in, side-by-side, to watch the countdown.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Vasquez whispered, nudging Lucy with their shoulder.

“Yeah… I did too.”

The clock hit 30 seconds.

Lucy cleared her throat. “I need to be honest. I lied when I said that no one else could work tonight.”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, no one else wanted to work tonight or anything, but I sort of wanted the excuse to hang out with you. So I, uh, I’m sorry. For taking over your New Year’s Eve.”

Vasquez glanced over at Lucy, inching their chair a little closer. “If I’d known that there was a chance for spending a whole night, just the two of us? I’d have fought anyone else who tried to take the shift.”

The corners of Lucy’s mouth pulled up into a soft smile.

Ten seconds left.

Vasquez reached out a hand so that their pinky finger was just barely grazing Lucy’s hand. “Hey, um, when the ball drops, I’d like to kiss you. If that’s alright.”

Three.

Two. Lucy’s hand curled around Vasquez’s, fingers tangling together.

One.

As the ball dropped and the night sky exploded with fireworks and confetti, Lucy leaned over and pulled Vasquez forward, pressing their lips together—soft at first, but building into something deeper, something that made Lucy want to abandon her chair and the game and crawl into Vasquez’s lap. But then the reality of where they were crashed back down as a local EMT alert for a small fire—probably some asshole with illegal fireworks and too much to drink—beeped at them, the sound amplified through the speakers.

“Happy New Year,” Lucy whispered, her breath a warm whisper against the corner of Vasquez’s mouth.

“Next time you get the day off work, maybe I can even take you on a date somewhere other than the DEO?”

“Wow, so romantic.”

“Hush. I’ll have you know I can plan a great date.”

“Sweet ride,” Alex says as Vasquez opens their locker.

“Though you preferred bikes, Danvers,” Vasquez teases. They change quickly out of their MIT shirt and jeans and into their uniform, comfortable enough with Alex that they don’t mind her seeing their binder.

Lucy comes into the locker room, fresh out of the shower after an early workout. She swats at Alex’s ass with a towel.

Alex yelps. “What are you, fifteen?”

“Twelve. Good night, Vas?”

“Dinner and a movie,” they say. “Well, microwave meal for one and Netflix.”

“Thought you had a date,” Alex says.

“What makes you think that?” Vas replies, keeping their tone nonchalant just so they can enjoy the look on her face.

“The fact someone drove you to work in a two hundred thousand dollar sports car?”

Lucy gapes. “Damn, Vasquez. Now you have to tell.”

Vasquez grins. They want to tell their friends who they’re dating. In fact they and their partner have talked about coming out for a while, but there’s just something so satisfying about watching Lucy and Alex squirm.

“Bike’s in the shop. I just thumbed a lift.”

And with that they saunter out the locker room, Alex and Lucy already bickering behind them.

They head to their computer, smoothly dodging Winn who’s wearing VR goggles and zooming around happily in his wheely chair. They put their headset on, tuning out the quiet chatter of a team on a routine patrol until it’s just white noise and set to reading over some code Winn sent. They actually manage to get five and a half minutes of work done before Kara comes sidling up to their desk.

“Sooo,” Kara says, playing with the edges of some paperwork in Vas’ in-tray. “Good night last night?”

“You’re as nosy as your sister, Danvers.”

“Wha- me? Nosy? Psshh.” Kara waves a hand, that adorable look on her face she gets when she’s trying to bluff. “I’m just… catching up, y’know. Haven’t spoken since-“

“You texted me and asked if I wanted coffee?”

“When was that? I don’t really…”

“Half an hour ago. Hey, complete change of subject but do you know how to play poker?”

“Just say no, Supergirl.” J’onn growls, spoiling Vasquez’s fun. “Agent Vasquez, I heard your motorcycle is out of commission. Do you need to borrow something from the garage?”

“No thanks sir. I have a ride sorted.”

“That’s what I wanted to ask about,” Kara says, jumping on the opportunity. “That was a very nice car.”

“Hmm.” Vasquez grins. “Driver wasn’t bad either.”

Supergirl makes an odd noise, taps out a quick rhythm on the table top. Vasquez is a highly trained agent and knows how to hold themself together, but damn, Kara’s making it hard.

“Did you not use your x-ray vision?” Vas asks.

“Didn’t think it was polite,” Kara mumbles.

She’s probably kicking herself with those nice red boots, Vasquez thinks. It’s hilarious. They spot Alex and Lucy leaving the locker room, both of them in badass agent mode and immediately starts paying attention.

There’s been an accident just outside of the city, an unmanned alien vehicle out of control. Kara’s already away with a whoosh that sends Vas’s paperwork flying, Alex and Lucy following her much more slowly out the door. Vasquez pulls up as many traffic cam feeds as they can, searching quickly for a good view of the accident.

It looks like a small, sleek vehicle has collided with a lorry, burying itself in the side. Billows of strangely coloured steam curl from a small fire raging in the wreckage, the occasional cascade of sparks shooting out towards the traffic snarling behind the crash like fireworks. Three cars back from the crash Vas can make out a familiar black Ferrari. The driver’s door opens and a slim figure gets out, the small first aid kit Vasquez made her start carrying in her hand.

Supergirl lands suddenly, blocking Vasquez’s view of Lena Luthor hurrying towards the crash site. Cursing under their breath, Vasquez pulls up another feed, checks Alex’s tracker to see how close she is.

Kara’s freeze breath easily puts out the fire. She pulls out the lorry driver, stunned but alive, and gently sits him at the side of the road. She must tell Lena to keep back as she approaches because Lena scoffs, picks her way over the debris daintily in her very expensive heels brandishing the first aid kit.

Vasquez can hear Supergirl over the comms.

“Keep back Ms Luthor, this could be dangero- oh okay, never mind.”

“Supergirl,” Vasquez asks calmly, burying the spark of fear deep down in their belly. “What’s she doing?”

“She says the lorry’s hers, it’s transporting a prototype.”

“Oh shit, that was today.”

“Um, yeah.”

Vasquez clears their throat. “Agent Danvers is en route, ETA one minute. Is the driver hurt?”

On their screen they can see Lena checking the guy over. He’s conscious, doesn’t seem to be hurt more than a few scrapes. Better safe than sorry though. “Take him to the hospital.”

J’onn’s asking what the prototype is, where Lena was taking it, probably what she ate for breakfast knowing him but Vas is busy checking every cam in a hundred meter radius, checking for danger as Lena makes her way over to the wreckage. She starts digging through the mess of twisted metal and burned canvas, and Vasquez can’t tell if she’s looking for the prototype or examining the alien vehicle.

They find a new angle just as Alex’s van screeches to a halt and roll their eyes when they catch Lena pocketing a bit of debris. Alex jumps out, Lucy not far behind. The both of them are in full tactical gear but Vasquez can’t make out a single threat in the area.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Alex asks, and Vas watches as she approaches Lena.

“Lorry’s hers,” they jump in. They decide not to mention the tech theft for now, it’ll only make things worse for Lena and Vasquez can easily confiscate it.

“Bring her in for questioning,” J’onn demands. He’s hovering behind Vasquez, which makes a change from his usual pacing but is still very uncomfortable when he’s ordering the arrest of their girlfriend.

J’onn stiffens behind them.

You can read minds, Vasquez thinks. I forgot.

“Do you know anything about this, Agent?”

“I knew she was taking a new piece of tech out of town for testing, and I know it’s harmless because I helped build it.”

“Do you know why anyone would want to destroy it?”

“It helps people and she’s a Luthor,” they snipe, not bothering to hide anything from J’onn.

J’onn clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. Vas knows they won’t have changed his mind at all, but they also know he respects and trusts them enough to hear Lena out.

Alex checks in and says she’ll be five minutes. Vasquez gets back to work. They dispatch a couple of agents to the hospital to watch the driver, organise a clean-up crew for the wreckage and a tow truck to pick up the alien vehicle. They know Lena’s machine will be brought back as evidence so they send Terry, who won’t manhandle and break the thing any more than it already has been. Vasquez sighs. Lena had worked so hard on that project, a machine that could plant, maintain and harvest crops all on its own. It could be cheaply and safely manufactured, easily built and disassembled by local workers, and what asshole in their right mind would want to deprive to world of that?

They’re distracted by Lena being escorted in the front door. Escorted being too strong a word maybe, given she was striding in way ahead of Alex and Lucy, head held high and wearing the most glorious resting bitch face Vasquez has ever seen her pull.

Vasquez gets out of their seat, hurrying behind J’onn to meet Lena in front of the computer bank. They must look worried because Lena shoots them a brief, comforting smile. When Vas got so attached to Lena they don’t know, but they care about her enough for it to show.

“Thank you for coming Ms Luthor,” J’onn starts. “We just need to ask you some questions.”

“It’s a harmless prototype I’m developing to help reduce widespread famine. I was escorting it to the desert to test the range of movement over a wide area. As you’ll see when you no doubt bring it in it’s perfectly safe. I don’t recognise the vehicle that crashed into the lorry, I didn’t see what happened, I am not in any way involved.”

“I…”

“Any more questions or do I need to call my lawyers?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Winn pipes up. He scurries over with a tablet, shows J’onn the data from the traffic cameras, the Ferrari’s on-board computer, probably Lena’s cell phone and email data too but they don’t want to tell her that. “There’s nothing to prove she has anything to do with the crash.”

J’onn clears his throat. “Thank you for your time, Ms Luthor.”

“I’m free to go?”

J’onn nods, and Lena turns on her heel and strides right back out the building. Vas can hear the Ferrari’s engine from where they’re standing, and they realise one of Alex or Lucy will have driven it back. The two of them are waiting by their computer when they turn around, expectant looks on their faces and arms crossed. They sigh, and motion in the direction of Alex’s lab.

//

“You’re dating Lena Luthor?”

“Did you not hear me the first time or…”

Alex is leaning against her desk, a look of shock on her face. Lucy’s pacing, scrambling for words and it’d be hilarious if Vasquez wasn’t so worried about Lena.

“Since when?” Alex asks.

“About four months now,” Vas replies. “We met at a bar.”

“Really? Not that exciting.” Lucy says.

Vas half-heartedly waggles their brows and Lucy sputters. “We’re so getting into this later Vasquez. But right now… how likely is she to do something stupid?”

“Remember that fundraiser?” Vasquez takes their phone out their pocket. Nothing from Lena, she knows they’ll be busy with the crash, knows she might even get a head start whilst they’re still working. Vas hits speed dial.

“Voicemail,” they grumble.

“Think you can talk her down?” Alex asks.

“I’ll go to her office.”

They start to make their way out of the lab, but Alex stops them. “You really care about her, huh?”

Vas nods. “I do.”

“We’ll do what we can to find out what happened and keep her safe,” Lucy promises.

“Thanks,” Vasquez says. They know it must be hard for them, hell they didn’t trust Lena at first either, but now her last name doesn’t mean shit to Vasquez except the fact it can get them both into fancy clubs and cosy little booths at expensive restaurants.

“Stay safe,” Alex calls as they rush out of the lab.

“I’m thinking diamonds,” Lucy mused, her teeth nipping at Vasquez’s earlobes and her hips grinding down into their lap.

“Mm, yeah?” Vasquez asked, not trying particularly hard to pay much attention to their girlfriend’s words. At this stage, they were always just ideas, liable to change with a moment’s notice—often to thwart Alex’s latest ploy. They were just grateful that the rivalry had turned (mainly) friendly over the years. Back before Alex started dating Maggie, the two had been at each other’s throats,  more often focused on ruining the other’s heists than on actually accomplishing anything themselves. But now that Alex had a “mission statement,” which Lucy loved to scoff at, even though she liked to boast about how she operated within her own code of honor, they’d come to an uneasy truce that involved more playful attempts at sabotage that rarely turned violent these days.

“Can you two not do that in the van?” Winn whined. “This is my space—my sacred space.”

“You said that about your lab too,” Vasquez pointed out.

“Yeah, Schott, you only get one. Pick wisely.”

“Just don’t—keep your clothes on, alright?”

“No promises.”

“Why do I tolerate you two?”

“Because otherwise you’d be sitting in a lab full of perfect inventions without the daring to go use them yourself?” Vasquez offered.

“You’d have this van all rigged for surveillance with no one to watch for?” Lucy chimed in.

“You’d know how to make targeted explosions and decoys and holograms but never see them put to their best uses?”

“You’d—”

“Okay! Okay, I get it. You two are the muscle.”

“And the looks.”

“And the courage.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Vasquez said, shaking their head. “C’mon, who would actually know enough about computers to hack me if you left?”

“I guess,” Winn sighed melodramatically. “So you said diamonds…want me to start looking up possible targets?”

“I know just the one.”

“That so?”

Lucy nodded. “Oh yeah. She has more money than anyone in National City—just enough for some forcible sharing, I think.”

“Love the way you think,” Vasquez said, placing a kiss on Lucy’s cheek.

“Wait. You’re gonna try to rob Cat and Astra?” Winn asked, his mouth gaping.

“What? No, I don’t have a death wish,” Lucy laughed. “Besides, they’re already fighting the good fight.”

“Ah yes, that Lucy Lane patented code of honor.”

Holding two fingers up, Vasquez repeated in a military-esque monotone: “Criminals with honor do not harm or steal from other criminals with honor.”

“Damn straight.”

“And so how do you justify messing with Alex?” Winn asked.

“That sense of honor is still new. And these days I don’t harm her—just inconvenience her.”

“Fine,” Winn gave in. “But who’s richer than Cat and Astra?”

“Lena Luthor.”

—

The next morning, Alex carefully brushed away a speck of almost imperceptible dust from the broad shoulders of James’ suit jacket, watching in the mirror as he straightened his jacket and tightened the knot of his tie just a hair. Maggie handed him his phone and gun once Alex got his cufflinks fastened.

With a charming (and perfectly disarming) smile and wink, James slung the tube over his shoulder. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck when you look like that,” Maggie teased, swatting at James as he walked toward the front door, putting an extra swing in his step and letting out a deep laugh at the teasing wolf whistles and catcalls Alex and Maggie sent his way.

“We’ll be in the area if you need us, alright?” Alex added, her expression morphing into a more serious one.

“I know you’ve got my back, Alex.”

“Always.”

Within half an hour, James’ town car pulled up in front of the buyer’s restored nineteenth-century brownstone where he’d agreed to meet them—the hominess of it all somehow helping their genteel clientele to assuage their guilt over purchasing stolen artwork.

“Mr. Kent?” a middle-aged woman answered the door.

“At your service,” James replied with a small dip of his head and an easy smile that had her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you want to see.”

“On the contrary. You’re the very first one I’ve seen, which must make you someone worth knowing.” James smiled as any sense of wariness dissipated, the woman clearly charmed by him.

“I’m Katarina. I work for Morgan Edge.”

“Well it is my deepest pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Yes, I, uh, yes,” she stammered, mumbling her way through a few pleasantries before finally guiding him out of the entrance room. “Come right this way.” He followed her through a long hallway until they reached the home office in the back.

“Mr. Edge, it’s so nice to meet in person,” James greeted the man.

“I see you brought my newest acquisition.”

Right to business apparently, James thought. “I did. I assume you’ll want to see it first.”

As he pulled the tube over his shoulders, Katarina returned, a small mug clutched in her hands. “I brought your espresso.”

“Thank you,” James said, his deep voice rumbling over the disgruntled huff of Morgan’s complaints about her always interrupting his meetings. He paused for a moment to sip at it. “Always better to enjoy while it’s hot,” he added by way of explanation. “And it is excellent, Katarina.”

“Well, if you ever find yourself in need of a fix…”

“You’ll be the first person I call.” Sensing Morgan’s growing frustration, he turned back to the tube, slipping on a pair of gloves to pull out the painting.

Morgan leaned in closely, magnifying glass in hand as he inspected a few areas—always the same ones, James thought to himself, almost disappointed by the predictability of it all. After several long minutes, Morgan nodded. “It will be the perfect piece for my study.”

“And now it’s my turn to inspect.” James carefully rolled the painting up once more and stuck it back in the tube.

“Of course.” Morgan handed over a briefcase full to the rim with stacks of bills before turning back to his desk. With the painting strapped to his back for safekeeping, James checked the totals, then ran the special detecting pen Alex had invented to find fake money by scanning the chemical makeup of the ink and paper over the edges of the bills.

When Morgan turned again, already demanding to know what the holdup was, he found a gun pointed between his eyes. “And what do you think you’re doing?” he growled. “In my own home? I’ll have the police here before you can even think of pulling that trigger.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will. At least not when you’re buying stolen art and trying to pay me with counterfeit bills.”

“They’re perfectly real,” Morgan scoffed, pulling out one of top stacks.

“No, no.” Shaking his head, James pulled out the stacks beneath it. “The rest of it.”

Looking slightly inconvenienced but not at all abashed about having been caught, Morgan unlocked his safe and pulled out another briefcase, which James inspected thoroughly. Finally convinced that they were real, James added the top layer of real bills from the other briefcase to the new one—“for the trouble you put me through”—and handed off the painting, slowly backing out of the room, gun still pointed at the man until he was out of sight.

—

“Deal’s done,” came James’ voice through the intercom once he was safe in the town car again. “You need backup?”

“Nah, this part is the easiest,” Maggie answered, grinning over at Alex, who was leaning heavily against the wall of the warehouse, barely stifling her tired yawns. “Looks like I wore you out last night, babe.”

“More like Lucy did,” Alex huffed. “I’m so sick of having to deal with the added stress of her shit.”

“Oh please, you two keep each other sharp.”

Before their bickering could escalate—or turn into the heated makeup sex they favored—they heard the door creak open, and Alex smiled as Maggie greeted the first man through the door in perfect Spanish. They never used names, but she still felt close to him, a level of loyalty she afforded to very few of her other clients.

“I believe we have something that belongs to you,” she said, switching back to English when the rest of the group joined them.

“Already?”

“We’re nothing if not efficient,” Alex chimed in.

“Why?” one of the women in the group asked. She was new, Maggie noted, and rightfully suspicious of a gift that seemed to come with no strings attached.

“I don’t take kindly to my country profiting off of stolen artwork. I’m simply…expediting the process of repatriation.”

The woman scoffed. “And your country is okay with this?”

“Was yours when we stole the art in the first place?”

“And there are no strings attached?”

“Ah, well, I do like a nice bottle of wine—I’m partial to reds, and my partner here likes a dry wine.”

“Anything for you,” the man from before added, tipping his head to Maggie before taking the tube from her. “As always, thank you.”

“Anytime.”

—

“Have I mentioned lately how much I love having shapeshifters for friends?” Kara asked, throwing an arm around J’onn’s shoulders and reaching a hand out to M’gann. “Because I really, really do.”

“Whatever we can do to help Lena’s shelter—just say the word,” J’onn said.

“As long as you never say a word, then we’ll be just fine.”

“I still don’t see why the girl won’t let her good deeds be known,” M’gann mused, letting go of Kara’s hand to settle back in behind the bar.

“It’s harder to blackmail rich bad guys when you’re not invited around anymore because the Luthor last name has lost all meaning.”

“You’re the one that collects half the dirt with your powers, though.”

“But I wouldn’t know where to go digging if it weren’t for Lena’s first steps. Plus, you know how she enjoys siphoning off Luthor Corp funds. It’d be less fun if she had to spend her own money.”

“You know we’re mindreaders, right?” J’onn asked, arching an eyebrow at Kara.

“You can’t read mine,” Kara countered.

“No,” M’gann admitted, “but we know that your little girlfriend donates half of her personal income to charities every year.”

Kara groaned. “Don’t tell her you know, okay? She doesn’t want people knowing about it—once people know, it ruins it for her.”

“Whatever you say…”

“It’s not like you want people to know you’ve been volunteering to keep her refugee center running either.”

“No one would willingly enter a center run in part by a White Martian, especially one who shapeshifts to steal and infiltrate the local police units.”

“And you think that they’d send their kids off to play with a Luthor?”

“Point taken.”

“Anyway, are you two coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Not tonight, sorry,” J’onn apologized. “We’re a little short-staffed at the bar, and you know how Friday nights can get.”

“But next time, we promise,” M’gann added, reaching over to give Kara a hug before she left.

—

“We should really get going,” Astra sighed, even as she lifted her arms to allow her shirt to be removed. “Wouldn’t want to be late.” Her breath hitched at the feeling of teeth nipping at her neck and nimble fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of her black pants.

“She’s not my niece,” Cat shrugged. “Besides, I’ve always preferred to be fashionably late.”

“And yet if I’m just a minute late for dinner…”

“I. Do. Not. Wait.” Cat declared, punctuating her words with harder bites, wishing she could leave some kind of mark on that flawless skin.

“I always make it worth your while, though,” Astra drawled, easily flipping them so that Cat was on her back, her breathing ragged and her chest flushed a faint pink.

“Last night you didn’t.”

“Last night I had the chance to sabotage the newest oil pipeline, darling. I don’t complain when your work comes first.” Astra’s fingers trailed up Cat’s thighs, gently pushing up the hem of her dress.

“I know, I know. It’s just a shame—you know my fingers, talented as they might be, just don’t compare to your tongue.”

“Well, why don’t we get dressed for dinner with Kara, and when we get back, I’ll make it up to you threefold.”

“I suppose I could be amenable to those terms if you let us take the car to dinner tonight.”

“But flying is so environmentally friendly.”

“It’s windy.”

“I’ll shield you.”

“We drive a hybrid.”

“Fine,” Astra finally relented.

—

Looking around the table, Kara couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her friends and family all gathered together, laughing as Maggie regaled them with tales of Alex’s latest misadventures with Lucy, Vasquez, and Winn. As much as Alex complained about the lot of them, she knew better than to believe that she truly hated them. After all, it had been Lucy and Alex who’d willingly put aside their differences to bring down Non when Astra’s life was in jeopardy, then again when Max Lord came for Kara herself. Plus, she doubted that Alex would voluntarily spend hours sifting through childhood photos of someone she truly despised, even if she was looking only for the most embarrassing ones.

“What matters,” Alex finally cut in when it seemed like Maggie was just one step away from pulling out the photos for a show and tell, “is that we made it out just fine.”

“Which is why we’re letting Lucy have her little date night tonight without any interruptions from us.”

The laughter that filled the room was soon cut off as both Kara and Astra sprung to their feet.

“We have company,” Astra hissed. Within moments, everyone in the room had at least one weapon drawn, all of which were pointed at the intruder that Astra whisked in through the balcony window and unceremoniously threw to the floor.

“Lucy?” Alex gasped, seeing the telltale full body black leather suit she wore when she went out on her little cat burglary missions.

“The hell, Danvers? I thought you were gonna let me have my date night.”

“Since when is your date night crashing my family dinner?”

“Since when is Luthor family?”

“Since she started dating me,” Kara just about growled, crossing her arms and stepping protectively in front of Lena. “And if you’re here to hurt her, you’re gonna have to fight your way through each and every one of us first.”

“And you know better than to touch my sister,” Alex added, her tone sharp as she let her gaze flick pointedly to the gun in her hand.

“Since when do you protect the rich?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to Maggie, figuring she was the best bet for an ally—she had the whole Robin Hood schtick down to an art.

“When the rich are giving more money away than I could even if I managed a heist every day.” Lena began to object, but Maggie waved off her protests. “Alex hacked into your accounts the first time she found you and her sister in bed together. Be lucky that’s all we found.”

“If you’re so charitable, why have you been ordering millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds?” Lucy demanded.

“Most of them will be sent back to the communities they were stolen from,” Lena huffed. “I might be a villain—”

“Hardly,” Maggie scoffed. “Blackmailing the worst of your one-percenter pals with your girlfriend, stealing from your family’s evil company—they hardly make you a villain.”

Lena just rolled her eyes. “Fine. But, since the surprise is sort of ruined now…” Turning to face Kara, Lena dropped down to one knee. “Kara Danvers, the months I’ve spent with you have been some of the best ones of my life. There’s no one I’d rather extort and blackmail with than you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” Kara gasped, dropping down to her knees as well and pulling Lena into a passionate kiss that may well have gone on much too long to be appropriate in front of family, friends, and intruders were it not for the loud whooshing sound and the way the whole floor seemed to shake.

“The hell did you bring with you, Lane?” Alex growled.

“It wasn’t—” But Lucy didn’t have time to finish her thoughts before a large silvery portal opened up, and doppelgangers of Kara, Alex, Maggie, and Winn thumped to the floor, looking more than a little taken aback at the sight of so many people and weapons surrounding them.

“Who are you?” Kara finally demanded, glaring at the intruders, letting her eyes burn red.

“Um, I think we’re you…from another Earth—Earth-38 to be specific,” the new Kara volunteered. “We were over on Earth-1 helping out some friends, but we had to leave in a hurry, and I think maybe we set up the breech incorrectly…”

“No shit,” Alex growled, looking closely at her Earth-38 counterpart and refusing to lower her weapon.

At that moment, Lucy’s earpiece crackled to life with Vasquez and Winn’s worried questions. “I’m up in the apartment…whole story there. But, uh, we’ve got company, and I think you’re gonna want to see this.”

—

Earth-38 Winn scoffed at his doppelganger, having found himself increasingly disgusted as he heard him joking about heists and devious inventions. “How could you? After everything that happened with our dad?”

“After everything that happened, how could you not?” his evil counterpart shot back. “You watched him lose everything—his career, his money, his inventions, his wife, his love for life, his desire to live. How can you justify sitting back and doing nothing to avenge him?”

“Somehow I don’t think a murderer losing his love of life while he rots in prison really rises to the level of vengeance-worthy crimes against humanity.”

“Prison?”

“For murder.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t do anything. He let his boss take credit for his inventions, rolled over each and every time until he had nothing worth fighting for, nothing worth living for.”

Winn stood there blinking. “I…that—that’s not what happened on my Earth.”

—

Across the room, Maggie and Alex sat together, watching as their Kara and Winn worked with the other Earth’s more tech-oriented folks to try to make sure that any new breeches wouldn’t send them to yet another Earth that might be even less friendly toward them.

“You didn’t seem surprised that your doppelganger isn’t the paragon of virtue,” Maggie noted.

“I’m not.”

“Why’s that?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m not Kara. I’ve killed before, and I likely will again. I do the things that need to be done. I’ve never been a saint.”

“But you’re no villain.”

“But to have lost things like that…this Alex had both of her parents taken away and was left with another girl who had lost her whole world, who didn’t get a loving, supportive family to raise her. Instead she was left with me—some bitter teenage rebel who wanted nothing more than to see this world pay for its crimes.” Alex shook her head; it was impressive that they’d ended up as decent as they had. Sure, her counterpart had stolen and lied, but she’d never descended to murder or kidnapping or anything of that nature. She suspected Kara had something to do with it; even if this version of Supergirl was willing to claim power in a way hers never had, was willing to kill when it came down to it in a fight, she still fought for justice, still fought for good.

Regarding Maggie, Alex added, “You’re not exactly stunned yourself.”

“If I didn’t have an aunt to take me in, of course I’d have turned to petty theft. Plus, Robin Hood was my favorite Disney movie…”

Alex laughed. “I guess even here you’ve got a pretty deep-rooted sense of justice.”

“Yeah. And here you’ve got an undercut,” Maggie added, veering them toward lighter topics. “It’s pretty hot.”

“I really hope you’re not suggesting some threesome.”