#supertrashco

Her phone rang as she reached the last sentence, and she hit the ‘accept’ button before she fully registered who it was.

“Cat, darling, I wanted to congratulate you on your anniversary. Did you get my present?” There was a smugness in that tone, but something else as well, an almost playful quality that very few people would have recognized.

“Really, Lois?” Cat settled the paper on her lap, pulling off her glasses and tossing them back into the pile with the others. “Were you so desperate for my attention that you dragged Superman out of the sky just so you could get one over on me?”

“Please, I’ve been over you plenty of times in the past. Under you too, if memory serves, and neither of us were complaining then.” Despite herself Cat felt the corners of her lips start to twitch, and she hastily spun her chair around in case any of her employees dared to glance into her office. Most of them could read lips, and she didn’t need it to get out that her public rivalry with Lois Lane was actually based on a private, far less antagonistic relationship born from their mutual love of competition. “Besides,” Lois continued, “I hardly had to drag Superman from the sky. He was perfectly happy to do the interview from my bed.”

“I’m sure,” Cat’s voice was still dry, but her movements were gentle as she smoothed down the edge of the paper with her free hand. “And how is that farmboy of yours? Still glad you took up with him now that his more attractive cousin has appeared on the scene?”

“Clark is fine.” Lois ignored the barb. “He says to let you know the article was entirely my idea and to please not take it out on him next time you see each other. He’s still a little afraid of you after the cheese puff incident.”

Cat hmmed, noncommittal in case Clark was listening in. It was always good to let a little of that fear linger, you never knew when you might need an extra superhero in your pocket.

“But seriously, Cat,” Lois’ voice softened. “Congratulations. I looked up CatCo’s stock price last night and it was almost enough to make me wish I had come with you when you asked.”

Cat closed her eyes, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around her phone. She had broken every other anniversary she had ever had. Not on her own, but she wasn’t blameless in her four failed marriages. Yet for all that, when it came to this job, to her passion, for all the times when it would have been easier to give up and crawl back to The Daily Planet or any other established newspaper, she never had.

“Thank you, Lois,” she finally allowed a smile to blossom fully across her face. “But you know, as much as I appreciate your little joke with the article, if you really wanted to get me something, you should send Supergirl my way. Just tell her not to fly off with my car again. As impressive as that was, I was hardly in a position to watch the show and afterwards I had to drive myself home from that cliff. Do you have any idea how aggravating that was? I haven’t driven myself anywhere in years.”

Lois’s answering laugh was light, and so different from the way most people dared to act with Cat. “So would you rather she just picked you up and carried you bridal style? In all honesty, she probably needed the car as a buffer. You have been known to be somewhat intimidating on occasion.”

Cat’s smile turned smug even as she pushed on. “If you’re trying to divert me with compliments, Lois, it won’t work. Unless you want your Hanukkah gift this year to be tickets to the revival of Jekyll & Hyde, you better give me something.”

There was an audible gasp of horror on the other end, and Cat rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright, sitting through that monstrosity once was enough. But I can’t just tell her to go see you. For one, she actually liked that show and wouldn’t understand the dire nature of your threat. And two, you don’t really want me to make it easy on you, do you? The Cat Grant I know and love wouldn’t be able to appreciate an interview with Supergirl unless she had to work for it herself. I’ll give you a hint, that’s all.” Lois paused, but Cat stayed quiet, letting the silence carry her waiting judgement. “Ok, then. If you want to talk to Supergirl, all you have to do, is think ‘mushrooms.’”

///////////////

“Mushrooms,” Cat muttered to herself as she slashed her red pen liberally over the CatCo magazine proofs. It had been a week since the phone call. Seven days, and she had been stubbornly refusing to act on something as ridiculous as the ‘hint’ Lois had so graciously give her. In truth, she wasn’t entirely convinced this wasn’t an elaborate prank, a continuation of Lois’s article joke, but as her pen hovered over yet another secondhand account of Supergirl’s heroics, Cat felt herself wavering.

Sales were still up, but Cat wasn’t so naive as to think that would last. Humans had an unbelievable capacity to adjust and explain away the spectacular, and without regular reminders to stop and smell the roses, as it were, even Supergirl would become old hat. Soon, simply relaying Supergirl’s activities wouldn’t be good enough anymore. Cat needed more.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way, Lois, but so help me god…” Cat put down the pen after one final stroke, already half-regretting her decision even as her mind was moving on to the next step.

It couldn’t be as simple as just eating the damn things, but Cat was hardly desperate enough to dress up in a costume and do some elaborate dance on the top of her building. She could have someone at The Tribune write an article or two about mushrooms, but what if Supergirl went to that person instead of Cat? What was it that would really get Supergirl’s attention? A mushroom garden? A giant mushroom light beamed into the sky like that thoroughly inefficient contraption they used in Gotham?

Two hours, an impulse jewelry purchase, and several google searches on mushroom costumes later, Cat was finally willing to admit that she was overthinking it. Sometimes her own brilliance got in the way when she was trying to function on a simpler level, and when that happened, she was never any good at re-regulating herself. She needed to talk to someone else with a fresh mind. Someone who would think the same way as Supergirl. Someone with that same light and smile. Someone… Cat’s eyes fell across her assistant working diligently at her desk outside Cat’s office.

“Kiera!” The name was out of her mouth in an instant, and it was only another more before the girl was standing in front of her, attentive and eager as always.

“Miss Grant?”

Cat tilted her head, ignoring the small bolt of pleasure that shot through her core at the sight, and she forced herself to assess Kara critically. She really was the perfect person to ask about this; Kara tried to see good in everyone, which in its own way was almost as inspiring as any number of Supergirl’s traits. If Cat thought about it more, she was even sure she would be able to think of several other overlapping qualities… like those arms, for instance, and what Cat assumed they would look like if Kara ever took off those hideous cardigans.

“Supergirl, Cat. Focus!” She pulled her mind back to the task at hand.

“Tell me, Kiera, what does someone like you think of when you hear the word, ‘mushrooms?’”

Kara’s fingers, which had been drifting loosely over her ipad, ready to take notes or call up whatever information Cat might need, froze, and Kara’s eyes widened beyond what should have been humanly possible as a blush started to spread across her face.

Well, that was interesting. Cat leaned in and studied Kara more intently—only to figure out what was causing that reaction of course, not for any other reason. The only thing she could think of was that the fungi might be part of some new slang she wasn’t aware of, but she was at least fairly confident that between the two of them, if either of them was to be out of the loop on idioms it would be Kara. So it couldn’t be that, but then what?

“Kiera, did you hear me. I asked-”

“Noonan’s makes an excellent Three-Mushroom Pie,” Kara blurted out, her blush somehow deepening. “I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to eating, but I would be pleased to procure it for your lunch. I mean…” Kara faltered, ducking her head as she realized that she had cut Cat off mid-sentence. “I-if you wanted, that is, Miss Grant…”

Cat opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat as Kara risked a glance up, piercing blue eyes searching Cat’s face in a mixture of nervousness and hope, and suddenly there was a fluttering butterfly feeling in her stomach and she felt the tips of her fingers twitch with some inane desire to reach out.

“Stop it, Cat. You’re just getting excited about Supergirl. Now focus!” she inwardly berated herself. She was more than capable of admitting that her assistant was beautiful, and even that on occasion Kara seemed to possess an alarming astuteness and competence that was oddly appealing, but Cat was a fully grown, independent woman in complete control of her facilities. And those facilities did not allow for her to get sidetracked when a story was on the line.

“I suppose that doesn’t sound awful.” Cat found her voice, waving her hand dismissively and busying herself by looking down at non-existent work. She would give it a few days. Perhaps she had been wrong about food being too simple after all. So just a few days to try this approach… a few days that had nothing to do with the breathy “Yes, Miss Grant. Thank you!” Kara offered on her way out.

///////////////////

Kara was doing it again, looking at her, and it was making Cat feel both very warm and entirely too frantic at the same time. It was not at all a customary state for her to be in, yet she couldn’t seem to be able to bring herself to do anything to stop it.

In the month since that first meal, Cat had had nothing but different mushroom themed lunches every workday since. She had meant to switch to a new approach after four days, five at the most, but that plan had been thwarted by the growing scourge in her side that was Kara Danvers. When day five had come and gone with no Supergirl, Cat had been on the verge of ordering her customary lettuce wrap the next day, only to have Kara flounce in with her eyes all aglow.

And they had been glowing, or at least, with Kara standing in the light just so they seemed to be, and Cat’s inquiring mind had gotten so caught up in trying to figure out how that was happening, that she had taken the paper Kara had handed her and nodded along with her words without realizing what she was doing. It was only later—once she had firmly decided that it was the light reflecting off the new crystal drinking glasses she had acquired that had given Kara that extra shine—that she had bothered to read the paper and realize that it was a lunch schedule for the next three months.

Which was how she had gotten here, spending another lunch trying to choke down a mushroom souffle, while Kara was once again not so subtly peering at her through the glass walls with a beaming smile painted across her face.

“Just tell her you want something else. She’s your assistant, dammit. It’s easy.” But was it? Because Kara seemed very pleased with herself. In fact, each time she delivered Cat’s lunch tray her demeanor was akin to what Cat imagined a caveman must look like after successfully procuring some offering to bring back to his mate. Not that Cat thought she was Kara’s mate, or that Kara thought that, but Cat was all about encouraging women, and in the age of a female superhero, how could she squash the blossoming confidence that came each time Cat accepted another dish?

Especially because she was getting to see glimpses of a rare pride in Kara as well. Each day the tray became slightly more elaborate, and where once her food was delivered in a tidy, but simple method, now her napkins were folded into beautiful origami birds, and out of nowhere her metal utensils developed unique and intricate patterning that changed every day. When Cat had commented on the beautiful work last week, Kara’s shoulders had pushed back, and instead of the shy blush Cat had been expecting, she had been faced with an almost regal—a descriptor she never would have thought to apply to her assistant before—nod as Kara took the compliment head on.

Not that any of that really mattered. Kara coming into her own was a nice bonus, but Supergirl was the primary objective, and just because Cat had been willing to switch to a new tactic after a few days, didn’t mean this one wasn’t still working in a way that she wasn’t aware of.

Glancing at her assistant again, Cat’s stomach lurched as she realized she had paused too long between bites and a small frown had formed on Kara’s lips. Hastily, she scooped up another forkful and shoved it in her mouth. It did the trick, Kara’s face smoothing out again, and Cat had just a moment to be grateful she had caught it before The Crinkle(™) could make an appearance, when her actions caught up with her.

“It’s just because of Supergirl,” she tried. “Come on, Cat. You know all about displacement. Supergirl hadn’t come yet, so you’re focusing all your attentions on Kara.” She nodded to herself, putting every ounce of her remaining authority into accepting that argument as truth.

But she still needed to get through the rest of the meal. While objectively she could admit that the dish was good, her body was craving variety, and there was no way she could finish this. And then Kara would think she didn’t lik- and then that could throw off the Supergirl plan.

“Kiera!” Cat yelled the name before Kara could frown again, and used the second it took for Kara arrive in front of her to compose herself.

“Miss Grant?”

“There’s another plate around somewhere, isn’t there?” She had a nagging feeling she was about to make things worse, but Cat brushed it aside. Logically this should work. And Cat always went with logic over something as flawed and misleading as emotion. “I need you to work late tonight, but we may not have time for a dinner break later. I’ve seen how much you eat, grab a plate and take some of this so I won’t have to listen to your stomach growl later on.”

Ok yes, Cat saw it now. It was definitely a mistake. Her words, while they did get her out of eating the entire thing, could almost be construed as caring, and Kara was… Kara was… Cat swallowed. Kara was looking at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars, and for a brief moment, that expression was almost enough to make Cat believe that she was.

/////////////////////

Cat’s initial assessment that it had been a mistake turned out to be true, only somehow it was a mistake Cat kept making again and again over the next two months. Because Kara was smart, and caring, and funny. When Kara laughed, in the almost privacy of what had become their shared lunch ritual, it reminded Cat of Lois; the kind of carefree laughter she shared with her once lover, now closest friend, that was without fear or ulterior motive.

But Kara was also shy, she still blushed if Cat caught her at the right moment. And she was strong, standing up to Cat and pushing back more than she ever had before as she soaked in all Cat had to teach her. And she was hurt. Cat didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it before, the sadness that lurked behind Kara’s eyes, echos of a loss Kara could never quite get over. Each time she saw it, it pulled at Cat, part of her wishing Kara had never had to experience whatever it was that had caused her such pain, while another part, the selfish part, was almost glad for it because of the role it had played in turning Kara into this complex, utterly astonishing person she was today.

Which was why Cat had to let her go, because clearly Kara was ready for bigger and better things than being Cat’s assistant. It definitely wasn’t related to the way Cat’s heart fluttered when Kara graced her with a smile, or the very unprofessional thoughts that had recently had the audacity to invade her dreams.

“And it’s distracting you from Supergirl,” she reminded herself, watching impatiently as the numbers on the elevator panel rose, bringing her closer and closer to her destination. “You remember Supergirl, don’t you Cat? Alien from another planet? Flies around? Still hasn’t given you a second interview?”

Cat did remember Supergirl, for all that nowadays Cat couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was Supergirl that shared some similarities with Kara, and not the other way around.

Because it was Kara’s smile on Supergirl’s face that news cameras captured after an incident. It was Kara’s kindness that Supergirl shared when performing the more mundane tasks, such as rescuing a lost puppy or helping someone with their groceries. And it was Kara’s determination that Supergirl copied when she threw herself into a fire or chased after a rogue alien.

The elevator dinged and Cat stepped off, ignoring the sudden burst of activity in the bullpen and zeroing on the empty desk where Kara was usually waiting to greet her when Cat returned from these early afternoon board meetings. Frowning, Cat stepped closer, heels clicking slightly faster than normal along the office floor.

Today was the last day of the three month schedule Kara had so carefully put together, and while it was possible that Kara had another three month plan ready to go, somehow Cat didn’t think so. The day was marked with a red ‘X’ on the list, the only day without a clear description of the meal, and when Cat had asked, Kara had just offered a small grin and told Cat she would have to wait. And Cat had waited, so where was Kara? Surly she wouldn’t…

“I’m on the balcony, Miss Grant.” And yes, there she was, peeking her head around the balcony doors just as Cat reached her office. “I thought we’d eat out here, it’s such a beautiful day.”

“It is,” but Cat wasn’t looking at the sky, her vision entirely taken up by the sight of Kara in a sleeveless blue dress. Had she changed for this lunch? Cat would have remembered if Kara had been wearing that this morning. Cat always remembered when employees violated the dress code, and for all her musings about getting rid of Kara’s cardigans, there was no way those arms were legal.

While she had been thinking, her feet had chosen to continue carrying her forward. Kara, however, waited until the last moment to move back, bringing Cat close enough to brush against her chest, and ‘brazen’ flashed through her mind.

Rather than comment, Cat pushed on, accepting the seat Kara pulled out for her and looking down at the ornate table setting and covered dish on her plate.

“Last one,” she reminded herself, as out loud she asked, “what’s on the menu for today?”

Kara bent over Cat’s shoulder to lift the lid and Cat bit her lip, refusing to give in to the sudden impulse to turn her head and lean into Kara’s side.

“This is something from my home, or as close to it as I could make with… local ingredients.”

“You cooked for me?” Cat barely registered that Kara hadn’t given her the name, or that the strange meal in front of her wasn’t anything she recognized. Except for the mushrooms. Those were distinct. They were always so distinct.

“I did.”

Cat felt a smile forming, and she shoved it back down before it could reach the surface, gesturing almost frantically to the seat across from her and blurting out, “I have something for you!”

She breathed a sigh of relief when Kara moved to comply, the space giving her just enough fresh air to clear her mind. Reaching into her purse, Cat pull out her phone and set it on the table when it got in her way, noticing as she did that she had several missed calls from Lois she would have to return later.

And when she did she would have words for Lois. So many, many words.

It took another few seconds of fumbling, but then Cat’s hand closed around the item she was looking for and she lifted it out. She hadn’t meant to do this, had been planning on talking to Kara about a promotion in a week or so once she had time to find an appropriate appreciation gift, but Cat needed it to happen sooner.

Because Kara looked gorgeous, and happy, and she had cooked for Cat, and all of that was causing Cat to have some very un-boss-like feelings that had no business being a part of her ‘nab-a-Supergirl’ plan.

So Cat was lucky that the impulse buy—the jewelry she had custom ordered a little over three months ago—had finally arrived, and that because she had been in a rush this morning, she had simply shoved the box into her purse to do something with later. If everything had been made to her specifications, it would be a small silver bracelet with the Supergirl crest inlaid delicately in the metal, interspersed with the CatCo logo and a number of mushrooms from around the world, each one unique and different. She had been planning on wearing it herself on her balcony when working late as a call sign for the hero, but right now it was all she had, and after all Kara had done for her, she deserved something to mark her promotion.

Besides, it would look beautiful on Kara. In fact, now that Cat thought about it, the understated jewelry was almost perfect for her, and Cat almost couldn’t believe that she had ever thought it could be for anyone else. Kara followed Supergirl just as closely as Cat, and while Cat still didn’t know what mushrooms were supposed to mean to Supergirl, they clearly did mean something to Kara. And then there was the CatCo logo, and well, that was obvious.

“Miss Grant?” Kara tilted her head, watching Cat with an intensity that made Cat’s hand almost falter as she handed the box over.

Not trusting herself to speak just yet, Cat tore her eyes away before the deliberate movements of Kara’s fingers could pull her in deeper. Her gaze fell across her phone just as a text message from Lois came in, and she read it with the sound of the box opening in the background.

Lois Lane: Answer your damn phone, Cat!!!! I thought Kryptonian mushrooms were used to symbolize friendship, but Clark just corrected me and apparently they’re romantic! To anyone who actually grew up there, they would be…

The message preview ran out of space, but Cat didn’t need to open it up to read the full thing as the pieces fell into place. Because this had started with Lois. With Lois and her insufferable hint, and ever since it hadn’t been Supergirl who had become closer to Cat, but Kara who had been bringing her food, and sharing her meals, and treating Cat almost like a partner rather than a boss.

It was also Lois who had given the world most of the known information on Kryptonians, and Cat had read every single thing Lois had ever written. Like the interview where Superman explained that in Kryptonian culture, once an acceptable mate had been identified, it was customary to enter into a courtship period that lasted approximately three months. How that ritual often involved showing each other ways in which you could provide for one another, such as through the giving of food or knowledge, and how eventually the goal was to share in those things equally. And how when a successful courtship period ended and the two houses joined, they exchanged bracelets instead of rings.

Bracelets, exactly like the one Cat had just given to Kara.

All Cat had to do was act like she didn’t understand what she had just done, was go on with her promotion speech and have that be the end of it. It would be simple, a misunderstanding, but when she lifted her eyes and took in the sight of Kara holding the bracelet in her hands, lips parted slightly and face flushed in wonder, everything else mentled away.

There were denials, and half-formed arguments, and all the other lies Cat had been telling herself for much longer than just these past three months. But looking at Kara now, with the weight of all of that pressing against her, Cat knew that underneath it all there was only one truth.

“Kara,” she said the name purposefully, hearing the sharp intake of breath as Kara looked up at her. Slowly, carefully, Cat picked up her fork and speared the largest mushroom she could find on her plate. “Thank you for this meal. In return, do you accept my offering, Kara, Last Daughter of Krypton?”

There was no pause, only a single, blinding smile that Cat returned with one of her own.