#stop latching on to every liberal white woman challenge

[anasthesiaemporium]

l*** b**** sucks and anyone who fangirls over this person needs to get a life

[hypnobyl]

jbthegift replied to your post “Flash Fiction”

How about for Supercat: "Cat's got a gun." I'd be thrilled with any Supercat though, honestly :)

Kara rushed from the ballroom, nearly tripping in the heels that should not have been a mandatory part of her outfit that evening. They were four inches tall, which made her tower over most everyone, and seemed to defy the natural order of things more than she did. She caught her balance before taking a very embarrassing spill in front of very large names in the publishing business and hurried to the coat room. Cat needed the pills from her purse--that she had, of course, checked at the beginning of the evening. Her phone had been stashed in Kara’s clutch so that she could be free to mingle and schmooze, and do whatever it was people did at parties like this. Kara didn’t know; this was her first, and despite Cat’s guidance, she felt out of place.

The attendant fetched the purse for her, and she undid the delicate golden latches. She reached inside and rooted about for the bottle; when her hand tapped into something hard and cold, she froze. Tipping her glasses down her nose, she narrowed her eyes and searched the purse. Withdrawing her hand in a quick snap, she tried to process the fact that her boss--that Cat Grant, media magnate, Queen of All Media, and self-professed die-hard liberal Democrat--had a gun.

With a shaking hand, she reached back in and snagged the bottle. She dumped two pills onto her palm, jammed the bottle back into place, and all but threw the purse at the attendant before scurrying back to the ballroom.

The room was a-swirl with people as she entered, some standing to the side chatting while others moved elegantly along the dance floor. People in stiff white shirts carried platters around full of finger food and skinny glasses of wine. For all she was in a very expensive dress by some designer whose name she can’t pronounce, she felt a kinship with those workers and almost wished to be one of them at that moment. They knew what they were doing there, whereas she was fumbling about hoping to discover why Cat had invited her along. There was no reason for an assistant, anyway, or a burgeoning reporter.

Which meant that Cat had something up her sleeve, and Kara was dying to know what.

“What took you so long?”

Kara slipped the pills into Cat’s waiting hand. “I’m sorry, Ms. Grant--”

“Cat.”

This was new. Kara tried again. “Cat, I found your purse easily enough, but I needed to search for the bottle.”

Cat eyed her warily. “Did you now.”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you wanted a chance to root through my privacy, hm?”

Kara lifted her hands defensively. “Oh, golly, no. I didn’t mean to--I mean, I did find the… the, um, the thing. You know? The thing? But I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“It’s okay, Kara. You can say gun.”

Even with permission, Kara didn’t want to. “Why do you have it?”

“I’m a well-known figure with a temper. I piss people off. You do the math.” Before Kara could ask more, Cat extended a hand. “Dance with me.”

Kara felt like a titan next to Cat, as her heels bumped her nearly a head above her companion, but Cat didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Cat pulled her close and--and nestled her head against Kara’s bosom. Nestled. Her. Head. Kara blinked, trying to figure out what all of this meant. Rather than find answers, she just unearthed fresh questions--like why was her stomach churning with pleasant little butterflies, and why did she want to hold Cat’s hand forever?

They dip and spin around the floor, Cat leading them from place to place and Kara ever so naturally following. Kara liked that about Cat: there was never a question about who was in charge, and Kara trusted her to make good decisions. She could relax around Cat in a way she hadn’t been able to with many others.

When the heat of dancing in a closed room got to Cat, Kara found herself tugged out onto a balcony. It would have been romantic if a thick formation of clouds wasn’t drifting across the sky and blotting out the stars and moon. She struck that thought from her mind immediately. She was with Cat--she shouldn’t be thinking about romance.

“It’s for my own mental well being,” Cat said, breaking the comfortable silence. “I know that I have it if something goes wrong. I’m not helpless.”

“You’re never helpless,” Kara countered. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Cat clicked her tongue. “Hyperbole aside, strength can’t stop everything. Having that gun within reach should something go sour means that I can approach every situation with confidence. I will be okay, and I will be able to take care of myself.”

Kara turned to face Cat, who still stared out over the sprawling property. “Why did you bring me tonight?”

“I wanted to see how well you cleaned up.”

“That’s it?”

Cat cocked her head. “Did you want there to be more?”

“No, I guess not. Maybe everything is just as simple as you say it is.” Kara attempted to turn back to the railing, but Cat caught her arm.

“And maybe it isn’t.” Her voice dropped to a soft husk.

Kara’s heart sped up. She slowly cupped Cat’s cheeks and searched the older woman’s gaze. “Are you saying--”

“I have the gun, Kara, so that I can protect you when your powers blow out.” Cat leaned closer. “And I invited you tonight because I wanted to test the waters, so to speak.”

“The waters?” Kara found it hard to think properly with Cat so close; the heady scent of perfume surrounded her, and she felt like her feet were glued to the ground.

“Mmhm.”

She could feel Cat’s warm breath on her lips, and her self-control broke; she drew Cat up on her tiptoes and claimed their first kiss. It was awkward and anxious, but Kara knew she could do better, if given the chance. Cat pulled away to touch up her lipstick, a coy grin twisting her lips and making reapplication a challenge.

“How are the waters?” Kara asks hesitantly.

Cat patted her cheek. “Very temperate and appealing.”