Oh and if you can, just do a short Supercat prompt in the next 2 hours? Hahahahaha. :-)
Okay technically this is 8 minutes late but I had a 45 minute meeting right in the middle of my 2 hours so this counts, dammit…
“Like this?” Cat asks, absolutely focused on the paper in front of her. She’d get this right even if it killed her.
“Close, look at the line thickness,” Kara says, pointing gently at her own writing as an example. “It’s subtle, but it makes a difference.”
Why Cat had ever thought this would be a good idea is currently beyond her, but by now she’s determined to see this through. Kara had insisted that writing Kryptonian was an old art, one rarely practiced on a planet with connections to the central computers available at all times.
Written words were almost archaic, and the only reason Kara can write as well as she does is because Astra taught her. On a world where everything was connected, only written words were truly safe from discovery. It had been their little game, right along with the spy beacons Kara had received on her 5th name day celebration.
“Line thickness plays a part?” Cat asks, and Kara can hear the exasperation in her voice. From memorizing shapes and grammar rules completely different to English or any other language Cat knows, she’s already been through a lot in her quest to learn this.
And to be fair, she speaks Kryptonian about as well as Kal-El does these days, which while less than a stellar review is enough to be conversational. And unlike Kal-El, Cat works regularly to perfect her pronunciation and syntax. It’s a lot piece of home that Kara didn’t know she missed until she had it. Winn and Alex can read Kryptonian, but they can’t speak it. And they definitely can’t write it.
“You didn’t tell me line thickness plays a part in this,” Cat continues, fixing Kara with a familiar glare. She hates to be less than perfect when she sets her mind to something, and Kara knows this well. “This is entirely the wrong pen for this, and I could have told you that from the beginning if you’d mentioned line thickness was important.”
“I mean, it’s more for nuance than anything else,” Kara explains, hoping to calm her girlfriend even as she already knows the anger is more irritation than actual ire. “The line you shade, the way it tilts, it doesn’t change the literal meaning, just the interpretation. Whether you’re speaking to the High Council or a child, things like that.”
Cat doesn’t seem entirely placated, but her glare soon morphs into something decidedly more wicked.
“There’s still the matter of pen choice here, Kara. Choosing the proper pen is important for any task, and you’ve let me use an unsatisfactory implement without providing relevant information.”
“I’m sorry?” Kara tries, squirming in her seat a little as she feels herself flush. She’s really not, not when it leads to Cat giving her a look that counts more as foreplay than any of her exes managed with actual touching. But appearances are important.
“Mm, you will be,” Cat promises as she grabs a key to open the special desk drawer that’s always securely locked whenever Carter is within the same country. Kara’s mouth goes dry as she remembers what’s in said drawer, and her breath catches as Cat pulls out a very familiar Mont Blanc she hasn’t seen in a while. It’s a pen for special occasions, and apparently this counts.
Kara watches as the familiar length of the pen is turned in even more familiar fingers. It’s not until Cat uncaps it and traces a single line down the edge of the paper that Kara remembers what they’re doing here. “Why don’t we try a different word now?” Kara asks, voice shaky with want as she leans closer to Cat.
If this is the reward, even delayed and currently taunting more than actually rewarding, she might have to ‘forget’ a lot more…
