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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 8 years ago

Text

and dogs were a universal constant, it seemed...

Fandom: Supergirl Rating: K+ Pairing(s): Kara x James Summary: Well, if you’ve seen 101 Dalmatians...

...

When there's a loud, insistent knock at the door late one Friday evening, Kara is so thoroughly convinced it's the pizza guy that she doesn't bother with x-ray vision.

So she's more than a little shocked to discover an irate neighbor in the hall.

(And, quite honestly, a little disappointed. She beat up some sentient killer tomatoes that afternoon and she's starving.)

“Oh, uh,” she blinks at the scowling woman before her. “Hi Ms. Kaplan.”

“My dog is pregnant.”

It is at that point that Kara notices Ms. Kaplan is not alone. Wrapped around one of her slender wrists is a leash and, at the end of that leash is Sadie, Ms. Kaplan's friendly (if somewhat shy) American Shepherd.

“...Congrats?” Kara doesn't really know what else to say to that...weird, random news.

“Don't play dumb!” Ms. Kaplan snaps. Kara's never been terribly...fond of Ms. Kaplan. Out of all of the building's tenants, she's definitely the most...prickly. And not in a Snapper Carr kind of way. More like a...what was the name of the woman in Wizard of Oz?

She'll Google it later. “I'm...sorry? I don't really under—” behind her, Kara can hear Krypto's nails against the hardwood as he pads through the kitchen to come investigate. His fur brushes against her leg as he tries to maneuver around her, insistent on seeing who's at the door.

Ms. Kaplan gives the two of them a pointed look.

Oh.

...Oooooh.

“Oh!” Kara exclaims, looking down at Krypto, then to Sadie, and finally back to Ms. Kaplan with wide eyes. “I...really didn't think that was possible.”

Ms. Kaplan mutters something about 'irresponsible millenials' under her breath, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Didn't you have him fixed?”

Kara winces. It was on the to-do list. Really it was. She was going to take him to the DEO this weekend, actually.

“Uh.”

“Well it's too late now anyways!” Ms. Kaplan throws her hands up, startling both the dogs and Kara. Krypto lets out a surprised wuff. “My dog's pregnant and I'm not going to be able to get anything for a bunch of mixed mutt—”

“I'lltakethem!” Kara blurts, so loud and sudden that Ms. Kaplan has to take a step back. “I mean I'll. Um. Since it's our fault and all and...I certainly wouldn't expect you to take care of them or anything...!” If Ms. Kaplan picks up on Kara's nervous energy, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she seems focused on considering Kara's offer to take the unexpected puppies off her hands.

“...Well that's only fair,” she finally says. “As this is his fault,” she glares at Krypto.

And she's not entirely wrong, what with something like that requiring two parties and all, but. Kara doesn't like her accusatory tone.

“Right! Yes. Fair. We'll do whatever we can to ah, take the burden of, um. We'll take the puppies. Let us know if you need anything! Thanks!”

“But—”

“Bye!”

Kara doesn't slam the door in Ms. Kaplan's face—it would be difficult to explain away the structural damage to the wall if she did—but she closes it with enough force to sufficiently send the message: we're done here.

“Miss Gulch!” Kara suddenly cries, finally remembering the name of the Wicked Witch of the West. James looks up from his laptop as she flops down on the bed beside him.

“So, not the pizza guy?” he surmises.

“No,” Kara mumbles into her pillow.

“What?”

She turns her head to the side so he can hear her better. “We have a problem.”

“Well, of course,” James smiles, not quite understanding. “No pizza.”

“...Okay, yes,” Kara concedes. “But also—” Krypto chooses that moment to bound into the bedroom and make a running leap onto the bed. He lands between them, all fur and limbs and drool.

“Ugh.”

“I thought we decided he wasn't allowed on the bed?” James half chuckles as Krypto settles his sizable girth right next to him, turning in tight circles and pushing his snout into the covers, pulling the blankets into a nice, rumpled mound.

“I don't see you getting up in the middle of the night pushing him off,” Kara says with a smirk. James coughs.

“...He looks so sad when we make him sleep on the floor...”

“Softie.”

James doesn't dispute the claim, rather, he changes the subject. “So what's the problem? Aside from the lack of pizza happening right now.”

“Our neighbor's dog is gonna have puppies.”

“That's...nice?” It doesn't sound like a problem to James. Kara gives him a minute. After all, she didn't get it right away either. “...Oooooooh.”

“Yeah.”

“...I didn't think that was possible.”

“Neither did I!” Kara pushes herself up onto her elbows and drops her head into her hands, running her fingers through her hair in mild frustration. “Nnnrrrg shoulda had Alex check him out. Or Eliza, maybe. Someone who knows about this...stuff.”

“I sincerely doubt your sister is going to know much about dog breeding.”

“Well, yeah, but.” Kara frowns. “They're like. The best xenobiologists on the West Coast.” Kara is inclined to add or any coast, but that's her own personal bias speaking.

“I thought your mom was an astro...something or other?”

“She's both.” Kara says.

“Ah, right.”

“I should still talk to them,” Kara realizes. James raises an eyebrow.

“I mean. Okay? But it seems a little late for—”

“In two months,” Kara interrupts him, “we're gonna have a bunch of potentially superpowered puppies running around here.”

James' opened mouth audibly snaps shut. Kara nods sagely at his reaction.

After a time, (and a short but meaningful glare in Krypto's direction) he speaks.

“Let's call Eliza.”

Ms. Kaplan is suspicious when Kara and James offer to foot the bill for a quote: 'highly sought after, exclusive vet,' and more than a little protective of Sadie, but Kara and James are very persuasive, as is Kara's...'uncle,' John.

(No, J'onn absolutely does not use his Martian mind powers, that would be unethical.)

(...Okay he maybe uses them a little.)

“Uncle. Really?”

“Well if Barry's our cousin, you can be my uncle,” Kara says, arms crossed, pacing back and forth outside of the DEO med lab. “Is it warm in here? It feels warm. Can we open a window?”

“We cannot,” J'onn tells her, and has to hide his amused smile when she mutters in displeasure and resumes pacing. James joins them, leaning against the door frame next to J'onn. He appears entirely unruffled, casually sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup and smiling pleasantly.

“Any news?” he asks, tone nonchalant.

“...No...” J'onn squints. “Do I smell alcohol, Olsen?”

James takes a swig of...it could still be coffee, technically speaking. “You do.”

Ten minutes pass, during which Kara and James pace and drink, respectively. Kara eventually takes a seat in one of the desk chairs, resigned to an evening of anxiety.

But then Alex opens the lab door. Kara jumps up, one hand still on the arm of the chair.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything's fine,” Alex says. “I just need...” she pauses. “James. For a sec.”

James straightens. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “Um. Can you—yeah.” He hands off his 'coffee' to J'onn, who gives the liquid a wary sniff.

“Just James?” Kara asks, “'cause, I can, you know. Help too.”

“Not when you're all worked up, you can't,” Alex challenges. Kara balks.

“What? I can, I can totally—”

“You just broke the chair.”

Kara looks down at the crushed arm.

“...Er.”

So Kara resumes her pacing, and J'onn resumes his quiet bemusement, and Alex and James resume...stuff. Dog stuff. Dog pregnancy stuff. Space dog pregnancy stuff, sort of.

And Kara gets so impatient and more than a little nervous, because Eliza had been very clear about the fact that they are in uncharted territory; there was little to no research on Kryptonian fauna, what with all fauna being presumed extinct until Krypto's pod had shown up. They had, of course, approached Alura's A.I., but that hadn't proved as helpful as they'd hoped.

“This constructs lacks sufficient data on crossbreed species,” the A.I. Explained in a flat voice, “and cannot accurately determine the chances of survival re: offspring of Kryptonian and Earth Canidae.”

Kara had spent the entire afternoon under a blanket, face pressed into the soft fur of Krypto's neck, not crying. Nope. Not her. She was toooootally fine.

(She was not.)

She's somewhat okay now, because Eliza and Alex have been working tirelessly on the science side of things, as none of them were too thrilled by the prospect of a bunch of dead puppies.

Kara shudders at the thought and taps her foot. A little too hard, because the concrete cracks.

J'onn clears his throat.

“A-hem.”

“...Sorry,” Kara says sheepishly.

J'onn's about to deliver a formal reprimand, but the med lab door suddenly opens, and three ragged humans wander out, James leading the pack.

“Can I...?” James points to the cup of coffee in J'onn's hand, extracting it before J'onn can answer.

“What is it?” Kara asks, voice cracking with panic. “What—are they okay? Did—oh no—”

“Whoa, hey, calm down,” Alex says, placing a firm, steady hand on Kara's shoulder. Kara refuses to calm down until they tell her what's going on. “Everything's fine. The dogs are okay.”

“Dogs?” Kara sounds hopeful. Eliza nods.

“Dogs. Plural.”

“That's, it's...” Kara's grin is wide and relieved and only grows wider as her excitement increases, ten-fold. “That's great!”

“Fifteen,” James says abruptly. Kara's still grinning, but her brow furrows in confusion.

“Uh. What?”

“Fifteen,” James repeats, bringing the cup to his lips.

“...Fifteen...what?” Kara's excitement is now tinged with a fair bit of...concern, is probably the best word.

Alex beats James to the punch. “Puppies.”

Kara swallows audibly.

“...Fifteen...puppies. As in—”

“A litter of fifteen puppies, yes.” James nods. “Fifteen tiny Kryptos. That we agreed to keep. In our apartment.”

The news hits Kara like a truck. Okay, no, not quite a truck, more like a mid-sized sedan. Still. The impact is enough to have her reaching behind her for the desk chair, which Eliza rolls over.

“Thanks,” she says weakly.

“Of course, sweetie.”

“It's possible they won't have powers,” Alex adds in an attempt to be helpful. “The cellular structure necessary to absorb the yellow sunlight might not be passed—” There's a crash in the med lab, followed by an annoyed wuff from Sadie. “...never mind.”

J'onn snatches the coffee from James' hand, and downs it in one quick gulp before handing the empty Styrofoam cup back to James.

“I am not paid enough for this.”

Kara steps back, and admires their handy work.

“Not bad,” she decides, beaming at James, who tears off a final piece of duct tape from the roll. Krypto's tail wags in approval, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he pants excitedly.

“I'm impressed,” James agrees. “It was quick thinking, on Alex's part.” He steps back as well, taking in the somewhat odd set-up they've constructed in their living room.

The furniture is all pushed aside to make room for the (mostly) circular enclosure of cannibalized dog-crate pieces; a kind of fence that surrounds a veritable sea of blankets and dog beds, which is all fairly commonplace.

It's the two large red sunlight lamps directed towards the enclosure that make for a slightly...out-of-the-ordinary tableau.

“And you're okay?” James reaches out and gently rubs Kara's arm. She nods.

“Oh, yeah. Red sunlight is fine,” she reminds him. “It's the Green K that's bad news.” She wrinkles her nose for effect.

“I thought you used Green K in the training room?” James asks over his shoulder as he moves to the kitchen to return the duct tape to the junk drawer.

“We do,” Kara admits, kneeling down to check on the zipties holding their makeshift fence together. One of the puppies sees her and waddles over, still not quite sure how to work his little legs. He trips over himself a few times before he manages to wriggle close enough to snuffle her hand through the gaps in the metal. “But it's...not very healthy, honestly. I can at least take a certain amount before it really does permanent damage...”

James frowns.

“Sounds pretty dangerous...” He grabs two mugs from the cupboard. “I'm making tea. Want some?”

“Sure.”

“Can't they use red sunlight for that too?” He waits for Kara's answer as he fills the teapot with water and turns on the stove.

Kara chuckles as the small puppy nudges her hand, and watches as Krypto edges forward to investigate. He seems to understand that this tiny white balls of fluff belong to him, but he's not sure what to make of them, really. “Not as efficiently. It takes longer, to get rid of my powers, under red sunlight.”

James' tone is level, but he grips the mugs a little tighter than is probably good for the ceramic. “But it doesn't hurt you,” he argues.

“Neither does the Green K in the training room, not really,” Kara assures him, looking over her shoulder to offer a smile, as if to say 'it's fine, I'm fine, it's all fine.' “I mean, it does, but not...” she sighs. She's not explaining it well at all, and she can tell James is upset. “It's low grade, and synthetic. And my healing factor kicks in immediately, once the emitters are turned off.”

“Mmmm.” James' frown deepens, and he presses his hands flat on the counter top, fingers slowly curling into clenched fists. “Still sounds dangerous.”

“Which is why we're not using it on small, newborn puppies,” Kara tells him in a tone that suggests they should move on from the topic. She joins him in the kitchen, wrapping him in a hug to further persuade him to end this particular conversation.

It works. He finds himself draping his arm over her shoulders, keeping his other hand free to finish making the tea.

“How long will they need the lamps?”

“Alex is still trying to figure it out,” Kara tells him. “I mean. They'll need to be trained, obviously, but...” Krypto lets out an excited yip, and they both turn to see the puppies congregated near the older dog, little pink noses twitching in delight. “Okay that...is criminally adorable.”

“I should get my camera, right?”

“Yes.”

“We can't name him Spencer.”

“Um, we can absolutely name him Spencer.”

“You have to imagine yourself yelling the name outside where other people can hear you. And possibly see you. Yelling for Spencer the dog.”

“I am imagining it, and it's a great name.”

Kara sighs. “I'll let you name that one Spencer,” she points to the ball of white fluff attempting to break free from the enclosure, “if you let me give one of them a Kryptonian name.”

“I can't pronounce those names,” James reminds her. “I can't imagine yelling it outside around other people because I physically can't make those sounds.”

“J'onn can do it,” Kara huffs.

“J'onn can alter the shape of his vocal chords,” James states.

And, as much as Kara is loathe to admit it, it's a good point.

“Alright then, we'll just,” Kara throws her hands up, “have to agree on a name.”

They stare at the unnamed puppy in question, who is vigorously gnawing on the metal. One of his brothers attempts to join him, but the pup lets out a sharp yip, along with a few high pitched gurgles that are probably meant to be growls.

He's not a bad dog, just...vocal. And ill-tempered.

James and Kara share a look.

“Snapper,” they decide.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“It's just—”

“No, no. The rule is that only Krypto can sleep on the bed, we agreed on this.”

Ace paws the comforter and whines, high-pitched and pitiful.

“Kara look at him.”

“I will not.”

And she doesn't. But she does roll over and look at James, poised to tell him that's final, but he's staring back at her with pleading dark eyes and a pout that she's certain he's learned from her (dang it) and it might as well be Kryptonite, that look.

So Ace is allowed up on the bed.

“That's it, no more,” Kara declares, rolling over and maybe stealing a little more of the blankets than is strictly necessary. Ace decides he doesn't want to sleep down at the foot of the bed, next to Krypto. He much prefers right on top of Kara's head. “Oh, come on.”

“At least he'll keep you warm,” James tells her with a smirk. She grunts.

“I run five degrees hotter than humans and I can't feel cold, I don't need him to keep me warm.” She forcibly scoots Ace over so that he's perched between the two of them on the pillows.

When she once again turns to face the nightstand, she's met with a wet, black nose taking up most of her field of vision.

“Hedwig, no,” Kara says sternly.

“Oh, what's one more,” James yawns.

Well.

One more becomes two.

Then three.

By morning there are six dogs on the bed, and between the two of them, Kara and James haven't even managed five winks, let alone forty.

There's movement from beneath the pile of snoozing dogs. James, trying to turn over without toppling the Jenga tower of fluff.

“I see now, this was a bad decision.”

Hedwig's tail thumps Kara across the nose. She sputters.

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

Alex raises an eyebrow and taps the front page splash of The Tribune.

ASLEEP ON THE JOB—SUPERGIRL CAUGHT NAPPING DURING MAYOR'S PRESS CONFERENCE

“You should really talk to your PR guy.”

“I'm my PR guy,” Kara grumbles, slumping down in her chair. Or, Winn's chair. But he's got the day off, probably sleeping in.

Ah, sleeping in. Kara misses it.

“You really have to stop doing that,” Alex tells her. Kara waves her off.

“Yeah, yeah, journalistic integrity...I know.”

“Do you.”

“Al-ex.”

“Alright, alright, I can see my advice is not wanted,” she says. “My incredibly sage, scientifically-sound advice.”

“You have a way to make them stop barking?” Kara sits up and leans forward, suddenly all ears. Alex scratches her neck.

“...Well no.”

“Ugh.”

“I was just going to suggest sending James to these things instead,” Alex jabs a finger at the unflattering photo of Kara snoring her way through the speech. “I know the Guardian's costume isn't quite as photogenic as the super suit, but he's pretty high profile, now that he's dating National City's Girl of Steel.” Alex smirks at Kara's faint blush.

“Aherm. Well. That, um.” She coughs. “That hasn't been confirmed or anything.”

“There was photographic evidence, if memory serves.”

“It was a hug. And he'd almost died!”

“I know. I was there.”

And Kara's about five seconds away from speeding off to the Sierras to grab a quick handful of snow to dump down Alex's shirt, but Agent Matthews walks over, smiling pleasantly, and Kara recalls that he's quite the dog lover; she knows, she's seen pictures of his prized Yorkie, Mr. Chips.

“Soooo...puppies, huh?”

“Rrrrrgggg,” Kara drops her forehead into her right hand and grips the arm of the chair with her left. The sound of splintering plastic fills the air.

“...Broke another one,” Alex mumbles. Matthews blinks.

“...Was it something I said?”

It's easy enough to wrangle the puppies at first. They're small, and though they have most definitely inherited their father's superpowers, the red sunlight lamps keep accidents to a minimum.

But, puppies, unfortunately, grow.

“Could you just—no, no, Snapper!” Kara has to use a burst of super speed to keep Snapper from leaping out of their building in a single bound. He makes some displeased grumbling noises—foiled again—and Kara, even with her strength, struggles to keep a hold on the wriggling mass of fur that, until seemingly recently, could fit in James' shoe. Now, he's at least fifteen pounds, possibly more, and as wiggly as...something that wiggles.

“Noodles?” Kara wonders aloud. James is behind the couch, trying to coral Pluto and Gandalf.

“We're out,” James says, misunderstanding. “We're out of just about everything. Including you-know-what.”

“...C-H-E-E-S-E?” Kara asks.

“Yep.”

Well, of course they are. The only thing that goes through food quicker than Kara Danvers, apparently, is Kara Danver's dog.

Dogs.

Plural.

Fifteen dogs that are big and only going to get bigger.

“Kara, we can't keep them,” James is sprawled on the couch, trying to catch his breath and hoping it will be more successful than his earlier attempt to catch Blue, who had recently taken to hovering about three feet off the ground whenever she got excited.

“I know,” Kara groans, letting her head drop onto the back of the armchair. “I know we can't. But James,” she forces herself to sit up, because this is serious. “It's not like we can just...put them up for adoption. Look what Snapper did to my cape!” She holds up the red fabric, gesturing angrily at the shredded, drool-encrusted edge. “This is Kryptonian fabric—bullets can't go through this thing, but Snapper's teeth have no problem.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” James says, reaching under the coffee table and extracting a pile of charred papers. “Waldo's got heat vision now.”

“Ugh.”

“This is insane,” he declares as he tosses the blackened remnants of the CatCo magazine aside. He raises his hand and gestures to the apartment, which is full of snoring, slumbering dogs. They're everywhere. The floor. The couch. The bed. A sea of white fluff. Fluff that comes out in great white clumps as the pups shed their winter coats; the fur covers whatever other surfaces aren't currently occupied by dogs. “One of them is going to break something. The wall. The ceiling. Something. And we aren't going to be able to explain it, they're going to figure out we have alien dogs, which is going to lead to questions—”

Kara groans again. This is bad. She didn't think this would be so hard. She just imagined it would be like Krypto again.

But Krypto came to them already trained, and smarter than your average dog. He had powers...and the uncanny ability to know when to use said powers...and when to keep them hidden.

(It's both unnerving and very cool, in Kara's opinion.)

The puppies aren't trained, not yet, anyway. James has purchased what amounts to an entire Kindle Library of How To books, but progress is slow.

(Nonexistent.)

Though, there is one trick Kara's been working on with the dogs, and it's coming along okay...

One of the puppies pads over and hops up onto Kara's lap, uninvited, and makes herself right at home. (It's Nugget, according to the tag hanging off the red collar.) And Kara sighs, rubbing her behind her ear. This—the fact that they're just all so gosh-darned cute—makes it that much more difficult to be rational about the situation.

Krypto yawns and stretches, rising from his place at James' feet. He comes to join Kara and Nugget, resting his shaggy head on Kara's knee, looking up at her with sad, dark eyes.

It's all too easy to imagine him saying, I don't want them to go.

So Kara mutters, “I know, I know,” but she doesn't know.

She doesn't know what to do.

A rainstorm makes the decision for them, in a roundabout way. It's the most rain National City's had in years. There's flooding near the Bay, mudslides up in the hills...

And power outages, all across the city.

Kara's busy relocating waterlogged vehicles when the steady buzz of energy that runs through the city goes quiet, creating a blank space in the background noise she constantly has to filter.

She starts, head whipping up to see that, indeed, the buildings have gone dark.

“...Oh no,” she says. The guy in the car frowns.

“What? Is something—is my car gonna be okay?”

She rushes through the rest as fast as she can without breaking the sound barrier, and speeds home, not even bothering with the window, she just...crashes right through.

It's dark inside, the red sunlight lamps off.

And the dogs are gone.

Kara's head whips around and sure enough, just as there is a vaguely Kara-shaped hole in the window closest to the door, there are several vaguely dog-shaped openings in the other windows.

“Crap!”

Kara receives a total of four frantic phone calls—one from James, one from Alex, one from Winn, and one from J'onn. (Though. J'onn's isn't so much 'frantic' as it is 'rife with barely-contained rage.')

“I'm seeing reports of a plague of alien dogs, menacing the downtown area,” Kara can hear J'onn's jaw creak, it's clenched so tight.

“I'm on it, I'm on it!” Kara tells him, racing across the city as fast as she can manage in the rain.

“I'm sending a team—”

“No!” she cries, sputtering somewhat when a gust of wind sends a spray of water in her direction. “No, no I—I've got it handled. Really.”

“Kara—”

“Yup already rounding them up don't need any backup bye!” she hangs up abruptly, and she is guilty about it, but she really doesn't want J'onn to send a team.

A team means guns.

Loaded with Kryptonite.

And Kara doesn't think it's come to that. It won't come to that, if she can help it.

James, Alex, and Winn are already downtown—she can see Alex's dark green jacket—darker, thanks to the rain—in a sea of frenzied National City citizens. Alex remains unmoved, though, not at all disturbed by the fact that there's a group of dogs flying around overhead, occasionally shooting lasers from their eyes.

“Do we have a plan?” Alex asks as soon as Kara touches down beside her.

Kara frowns.

“I thought you'd have a plan.”

“Kara, this—” her statement is punctuated by a small explosion across the way, and a flurry of sparks that light the darkening night sky, “is very much outside of my wheelhouse.”

“It's not,” Kara argues, simultaneously helping to direct the crowd away from the destruction. “They're just like a bunch of Fort Rozz escapees. Kind of. Sort of. That's totally in your wheelhouse.”

“Fort Rozz escapees don't usually chase cats,” Alex counters. “And you know how we take down Fort Rozz prisoners. It's not the same.”

“...No, it's not,” Kara agrees, mostly under her breath. James runs over, panting beneath his helmet, one soggy dog tucked under his arm. Alex and Kara both look impressed.

“...I had half a BLT left over from lunch,” he explains, holding up a ziplock bag with the sandwich inside. The puppy in his arms squirms eagerly, licking his lips.

“That's—”

Another dog barrels into James from behind, drawn by the scent of bacon, and sends James sprawling across the pavement. The puppy—Kara's pretty sure it's Waldo—falls from his grip.

“Grab him!”

“I'm trying!”

“They're—”

Kara doesn't finish her thought, because sudden nausea rises in her throat, and her vision goes dark at the edges.

Kryptonite.

She staggers back, but doesn't fall to her knees. It's Green K, yes, but not the real stuff. This doesn't stop Alex from rushing over, slipping on the wet pavement as she does so. The two dogs whine and duck their heads, tails falling between their legs.

And Kara mentally runs through the list of people who could possibly have Kryptonite; it's short, because it would have to be someone with access to the synthetic formula. Max Lord, maybe?

“Supergirl.”

Not Max Lord, but. An old mutual acquaintance, kind of.

“Reactron,” James wheezes as he struggles to stand. Kara looks over, vision dangerously blurred. He's hovering a few feet away, sporting a new chest piece that emits a faint, sickly-green glow.

Alex draws her weapon and fires, but the bullets bounce of his metal armor. Kara watches as he aims his gauntlets in Alex's direction.

“No!” She shoves Alex out of the way, and the green lightning arcs through the air before connecting with her shoulder, hot and sharp as it surges through her system. One of the dogs yelps, Reactron cackles, and before she loses consciousness on the cold, wet pavement, she grits out, “That's such a stupid name.”

Ben Krull doesn't know why CADMUS wants a bunch of alien dogs, nor does Ben Krull particularly care. Ben Krull just wants the missing piece of the suit that will allow him to break ties with these anti-alien nutjobs and get back to more important things, like enacting revenge on Superman.

(See, he's not so much anti-alien as he is anti-Supers. He'd hate them regardless of which planet they came from, he's pretty sure.)

“Do you have the dogs?”

“Do you have my tech?”

“We'll deal with payment after we check the cargo.”

“You'll deal with it now,” Krull snaps, “Because the only way these dogs stay powerless is if I stay close. No tech, no help from me, and you can handle a bunch of superpowered mutts on your own.”

The CADMUS goons don't like this, of course, but they aren't really in a position to argue. The tallest of the bunch hands over a metal case, and Krull makes sure to check the contents before he moves to stand next to the van, giving a nod to the CADMUS guys. He's ready.

They open the van, and call the dogs. None of them are eager to obey, however. Most of them cower in the far end of the vehicle; as far away from the unfamiliar-smelling strangers and odd glowing man as possible.

“Come on, move. Move,” Krull tells them. They don't budge, forcing the hired muscle to actually climb in and physically remove them. “Hurry up!”

He goes to grab one of them, in the hopes of speeding this venture along, but before he can grip the collar, another dog rushes forward, barking madly, jaw snapping.

“Rowf!”

Sharp teeth sink into the exposed bit of skin just above Krull's gauntlet on his forearm. He seethes.

“Damn it!” He yanks his arm back violently, pulling the dog along with him. It's a snarling, snapping mess of teeth and drool, and now the other dogs are barking too.

“Shut up!”

“Keep them quiet!”

“Get off of me you dumb—” Krull raises his fist, and is about to bring it down on the dog's skull.

But a vice-like grip on his wrist puts an immediate end to that plan.

“Don't. Touch. My dog.”

And then it's Krull who receives a fist to the face, as Supergirl sends him flying across the warehouse floor.

WHAM.

The dogs start in with a chorus of approving yips, and Kara smiles as she kneels down and gathers up Snapper in her arms.

“Aw, who's a good boy, huh? Taking down that dumb ol' Krull? You're a good boy, yes you are!” Snapper puts on a wide doggy grin, and happily slobbers all over the side of Kara's face. “...gross...” she whispers.

The reunion doesn't last long, unfortunately, because Krull forces himself to his feet.

“Not a smart move,” he wipes the blood from his split lip and coughs, a shaking hand reaching up to tap a button on his chest plate. “Or did you just forget about the Green K in my suit?”

The faint green glow is no longer faint; the suit hums menacingly and green sparks spill from cracks in the metal. The mild fatigue that Kara's felt since entering the building is replaced by a wave of familiar nausea that only grows worse as Krull steps closer.

Kara struggles not to gag.

“Didn't—f-forget—” she heaves, and points to something behind Krull's back. He doesn't immediately turn, though, certain it's just an attempt to distract him.

But then someone taps his shoulder, and he has no choice but to whirl to face...

The...Guardsman? The G...something or other. He didn't really read the newspaper, when he was in prison.

“Wha—”

Whoever he is, he grips the casing on Krull's chest piece and pries it off in one swift yank. The small lump of Green K pulses brightly, and behind them, the dogs howl. “No!”

But Krull isn't fast enough to stop the vigilante from extracting the Green K, which he tosses to a woman with short dark hair, dressed in black tac gear.

“Got it!”

“Good.” What feels like a boot connects squarely with his tailbone, and he's once again thrown through the air. This time, though, when he slams down on the pavement, he groans, and doesn't move.

“Nice,” James says, holding up his hand to give Kara a high five. She obliges, and then has to lean forward to catch her breath.

“I—thanks, but let me just...hooo boy.”

“Are you—”

“I'm fine, I'm good. I—see? Told you that synthetic stuff doesn't hurt me.” She puts on what she hopes looks like an unaffected smile, though she's quite clearly still a little unsteady on her feet. James laughs.

“Right.”

“A-hem.”

They turn to see a handful of CADMUS lackeys surrounding them. Oh, right. Kara had momentarily forgotten they were there.

“You want me to handle them?” James offers. Kara shakes her head.

“I wanna try something out,” she tells him, and gives a sharp whistle. All of the dogs' ears perk up, their eyes bright and attentive, now that the awful green rock has been put away.

The CADMUS goons shift nervously, and Kara grins.

“Alright guys...fetch.”

Only about four of the dogs actually get the command right, but four superpowered puppies prove more than capable of taking down some mid-level grunts.

(The rest kind of just run in circles and wag their tails, much to Kara's embarrassment.)

“That was...impressive,” J'onn says as he surveys the scene. A team of DEO agents help to cart away the moaning henchmen, and a special team works on containing Krull, who's still out cold. “Odd, but. Impressive.”

“There's a lot of stimuli, threw off their focus,” Kara says, only a little defensively, from her place on the ground, surrounded by their furry brood. “If we had some cheese, maybe...?”

Just saying the word is enough to set the dogs off, barking madly, straining on their Nth metal leashes, and James groans.

“Kara.”

“Sorry!”

“Now they think they're getting...C-H-E-E-S-E.”

“I know, I know.”

“Look. Look at their little disappointed faces.”

“Make me feel WORSE, why don't you...”

J'onn clears his throat.

“I...wasn't finished.”

“Oh,” Kara blinks. “Sorry, J'onn.” She gets the dogs to quiet down, and soon enough, the whole group is looking expectantly at the Director.

“I was going to say,” J'onn gives the dogs an appraising look, “that with the proper training, these dogs...would make quite a formidable team.”

“Well, yeah,” Kara says. “Have you seen Krypto in action? Imagine fifteen super dogs, rushing in to save the day.” Krypto hears his name and wuffs, and James reaches down to give his ear a scratch.

“Yeah, you're a good boy...”

“And, I mean, we're trying,” Kara continues, “but between work and DEO stuff and making sure they don't chew through the brick, it's kind of...” she huffs. “Slow going, the...training.”

J'onn nods, understanding their plight, but he smiles knowingly.

“I think I have a solution.”

(Ben Krull is put back in prison. No one sits at his table in the cafeteria.

“That lowlife kidnaps dogs,” the Atomic Skull hisses. Chemo shakes his head in disapproval.

“Truly a monster.”)

“Oh-HO that is sharp.”

James whistles in appreciation as fifteen DEO agents file out onto the floor with fifteen fluffy, white dogs in tow, each sporting a black harness with DEO K9 DIVISION embroidered proudly on the side in bright white thread above the DEO seal.

Winn grins.

“I designed them.”

Kara reluctantly admits that they do look good, though she still thinks the House of El coat of arms would look even better.

“You're biased,” Alex tells her.

“Only a little.”

Winn looks downright smug as he returns her repaired cape to her, along with a smaller parcel, wrapped in butcher paper.

“I designed that too,” and Kara laughs when she opens it, revealing a smaller cape with the familiar not-an-S emblazoned in bright yellow across the back.

“Aw, Winn.” She thanks him and gives him a hug while James snaps the cape into place on Krypto's collar.

“That's pretty sharp too,” he decides. “Nice work, man.”

Winn takes a seat in his chair, careful to mind the duct-taped arms. “No problemo, happy to be of service, ready to provide a super suit anytime, any place.” He throws in some finger guns at the end of his statement, prompting an eye roll from Alex.

“Pssh.”

“If you four are done?” J'onn raises an eyebrow, and waits for them to settle down. “I have new recruits to train.” He strides out to meet the dogs, and Kara immediately follows.

“Oh, I wanna see this,” she says.

“Me too,” Alex and James both chime in.

“Pass,” Winn says. “Overwatch DLC is callin' my name.”

So the three stand off to one side to observe J'onn as he takes his place at the front of the 'pack,' as it were, hands crossed behind his back, face settled into its usual stern, steady expression.

“Aw, this is adorable,” Agent Matthews happens to be walking by, stack of paperwork under his arm. “I might have to take a picture. For the 'gram, you know.”

“...No one calls it that,” Alex is inclined to point out, but Matthews pays no attention. He pulls out his iPhone, and waits for a break in J'onn's speech before stepping forward.

“Can I grab a quick picture, Sir?”

Perhaps, once upon a time, J'onn would have said no. But in a post-Kara-and-Winn-at-the-DEO world, J'onn doesn't even put up a fight.

“Fine.”

Matthews beams, and adjusts the focus on his phone.

“Say—” four pairs of eyes widen as they realize what's about to come next.

“No, wait—!”

“—cheese!”

Thirty ears twitch and within seconds, the DEO is full of flailing dogs, tails wagging so hard that papers are flying off of desks, and the barking so loud that the computer monitors crack. Handlers attempt to restore order, but the pups are having none of that.

Krypto sits at Kara's feet and practically beams with pride. Those are my kids, he seems to say.

And Kara, Alex, and James can't help but laugh, because J'onn's new elite team of K9 alien hunters is tearing up the top secret government facility over snacks.

“Did I ever tell you the kryptonian word for 'dog?'” Kara asks James, still watching the ridiculous event unfold with a wry grin.

“No,” James hides his laughter behind his raised fist. “You didn't.”

“It's 'fun.'”

Notes:

- The internet says that last thing is true. - Krull came across more like his comics counterpart, so perhaps a little OOC for the show universe, apologies. - All of the dogs’ names, because why not.

Snapper Pluto Hal Blue Ace Nugget Waldo Hedwig Sadie Jr. Krypto Jr. Artax Gandalf Snuffaluffagus or ‘Gus’ Penny Kodak

#stranger writes #supergirl fic #kara x james #karolsen #long post #crack and fluff mostly #flack?#cruff?#heads up I didn't get to do a final round of edits so there might be typos/mistakes

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