Chapter Text
Cat Grant drummed her perfectly manicured nails against her desk, watching the clock tick with agonizing slowness. Just three more minutes until journalism class ended, and she could escape the suffocating presence of—
"Miss Grant, Miss Danvers, please stay behind after class."
Cat's head snapped up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. Across the room, Kara Danvers looked equally alarmed, her blue eyes widening behind those ridiculous glasses she insisted on wearing. (Not that Cat noticed how the frames brought out the color of her eyes or anything.)
"Everyone else, you're dismissed," Mr. Carr announced as the bell rang. "Remember, your columns are due next Friday."
Cat began methodically packing her designer bag, deliberately taking her time. She refused to acknowledge Kara, who was hovering awkwardly by her desk, fiddling with the sleeve of her varsity jacket. God, why did she have to wear that thing everywhere? (And why did it have to fit her so well?)
"Ladies," Mr. Carr said, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. "You're my top two students."
"I know," they replied simultaneously, then glared at each other.
"Which is exactly why I'm pairing you for the 'Ladies in Power' column."
The reaction was immediate and explosive.
"Mr. Carr, with all due respect—" Cat started, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
"You can't be serious—" Kara protested at the same time.
"I work better alone," they finished in unison, then turned to glare at each other again.
"Case in point," Mr. Carr said dryly. "You two are so in sync, you can't even complain without harmonizing."
Cat's cheeks flushed pink. "We are not in sync. I wouldn't be caught dead synchronizing with someone who thinks wearing a letterman jacket with cargo shorts is acceptable fashion."
Kara's jaw dropped. "At least I don't spend three hours getting ready just to sit in high school classes!"
"Some of us care about presentation, Danvers. Though I wouldn't expect you to understand that, given your apparent allergy to anything that isn't sports equipment or plaid."
"Ladies!" Mr. Carr interrupted. "This is exactly why you're working together. The tension between you is affecting the whole class."
"There is no tension," Cat snapped, pointedly not looking at the way Kara's arms flexed as she crossed them.
"Yeah, zero tension," Kara agreed, definitely not noticing how Cat's skirt showed off her legs.
"Great, then you'll have no problem working together," Mr. Carr said with a smirk. "I want you to interview successful women in National City and write about their paths to power. And since you both 'work better alone,' you'll have to prove it by producing something extraordinary together."
Cat's mouth opened and closed several times before she found her voice. "This is completely unfair. I'm the editor of the school paper!"
"And I'm the star reporter!" Kara protested.
"Exactly why you should be capable of this simple assignment." Mr. Carr gathered his papers. "I suggest you exchange numbers and get started. The deadline stands."
He left them standing there, Cat seething and Kara looking like someone had just canceled Christmas.
"Well?" Cat demanded after a moment of tense silence.
"Well what?"
"Your phone, Danvers. Unless you plan to communicate via smoke signals from the lacrosse field."
Kara fumbled with her phone, nearly dropping it twice before managing to unlock it. Cat watched with mounting irritation (and absolutely no fondness whatsoever) as Kara's tongue poked out slightly in concentration.
"Here," Kara thrust the phone at her.
Cat took it with exaggerated care, as if worried Kara's jock tendencies might be contagious. She typed in her number with quick, precise movements.
"I have practice until 5," Kara said as Cat handed the phone back. "We could meet at Noonan's after?"
"Fine. Try not to be late. And please shower first."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, Danvers, that while you may enjoy marinating in your own sweat, some of us prefer not to smell like a locker room."
Kara's cheeks reddened. "At least I actually do something athletic instead of just bouncing around with pom-poms!"
"Excuse me?" Cat stepped closer, tilting her chin up to meet Kara's eyes. "Cheerleading requires more skill, grace, and discipline than running around hitting balls with sticks."
They were standing very close now, close enough that Cat could see the flecks of gray in Kara's blue eyes, could smell her coconut shampoo mixed with something uniquely Kara.
"Five-thirty at Noonan's," Cat said abruptly, stepping back. "Don't be late."
She turned on her heel and strode out, pretending her heart wasn't racing from their proximity.
***
Kara arrived at Noonan's at 5:25, her hair still damp from her shower, wearing a fresh blue button-down and her nicest jeans. Not that she was trying to impress Cat or anything. She just happened to want to look nice. For journalism. Professionally.
Cat was already there, occupying a corner booth with her laptop open and two cups of coffee on the table. She didn't look up as Kara approached.
"You're early," she said, still typing.
"You're earlier," Kara replied, sliding into the booth. She noticed the second coffee was exactly how she liked it lots of cream and sugar. Not that she was going to mention that Cat knew her coffee order.
"I'm always early. It's called being professional." Cat finally looked up, and something flickered in her eyes as she took in Kara's appearance. "Well, at least you clean up decent enough to be seen in public."
"Thanks?" Kara adjusted her glasses nervously. "You look... um, you look nice too."
Cat's fingers stilled on her keyboard. "Let's focus on the assignment, shall we? I've compiled a list of potential interviewees."
"Of course you have," Kara muttered, but she leaned forward to look at the screen.
"Problem, Danvers?"
"No, no problem. Just... maybe we could brainstorm together? You know, since this is supposed to be a partnership?"
Cat's eye twitched slightly. "Fine. Who would you suggest we interview?"
"Well," Kara pulled out her own notebook, "I was thinking about Lena Luthor? She just became the youngest CEO in National City's history."
Cat looked genuinely surprised. "That's... actually not a terrible idea."
"Don't sound so shocked," Kara grinned. "I do occasionally have good ones."
"Yes, well, even a broken clock is right twice a day." But there was less bite in Cat's tone than usual.
They spent the next hour comparing notes and contacts, gradually building a list of potential interviewees. Despite their best efforts to maintain their usual hostility, they found themselves falling into an easy rhythm of discussion and debate.
"No, absolutely not," Cat was saying, gesturing with her empty coffee cup. "We can't lead with the police commissioner. It's too obvious."
"But she's perfect! She broke through the glass ceiling in a male-dominated field—"
"Which is exactly why it's cliché. We need something fresh, something unexpected." Cat leaned forward, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. "What about that new gallery owner? The one who turned an abandoned warehouse into the hottest art space in the city?"
"Andrea Rojas? Yeah, that could work!" Kara matched Cat's energy, pulling her chair closer to see the screen better. "And maybe we could—"
She broke off as their shoulders brushed, suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting. Cat seemed to realize it too, because she immediately straightened up and cleared her throat.
"We should probably call it a day," she said, her voice slightly higher than normal. "I have cheerleading practice early tomorrow."
"Right, yeah, me too. I mean, not cheerleading obviously, lacrosse, but... yeah. Early practice."
They packed up in awkward silence, both pretending not to notice when their hands brushed as they reached for their phones at the same time.
"Same time tomorrow?" Kara asked as they stood outside Noonan's.
"I suppose we have to," Cat sighed, but there was something almost soft in her expression. "Try not to be completely useless with the interviews, Danvers."
"Try not to scare everyone away with your charm, Grant."
They parted ways, each secretly looking forward to tomorrow's meeting more than they'd ever admit.
***
The next week passed in a blur of interviews, coffee-fueled writing sessions, and increasingly less hostile bickering. They discovered, much to their mutual horror, that they actually worked well together. Cat's sharp eye for detail complemented Kara's natural ability to put interviewees at ease, and their different perspectives added depth to their writing.
Not that either of them would admit it.
"Your grammar is atrocious," Cat declared, red-penning another of Kara's paragraphs.
"Your interviews are too aggressive," Kara countered, highlighting passages where Cat's questions had bordered on interrogation.
"It's called being thorough."
"It's called making people cry."
They were in the school newspaper office, working late to meet their deadline. The sun had set hours ago, and empty coffee cups littered their shared desk. Cat had kicked off her heels at some point, and Kara had rolled up her sleeves, exposing her forearms in a way that was completely unfair and distracting.
"We need a better transition here," Cat said, pointedly ignoring how good Kara looked with her hair falling out of its ponytail.
"Mmm," Kara hummed, definitely not staring at the way Cat bit her lower lip when she was concentrating.
"Are you even listening to me, Danvers?"
"What? Yes! Transition. Bad. Got it."
Cat rolled her eyes. "Your eloquence continues to astound me."
"Hey, I save my good words for writing," Kara protested with a grin. "Speaking of which, read this part about Andrea's inspiration for the gallery."
She leaned over Cat's shoulder to point at her laptop screen, not realizing their position until she felt Cat stiffen slightly. But Cat didn't move away, and Kara found herself frozen, hyper-aware of the subtle scent of Cat's perfume and the warmth radiating from her body.
"It's... good," Cat said softly, her voice unusually gentle. "The whole thing is good, actually. We make a decent team."
Kara's heart skipped a beat. "Was that... was that a compliment, Grant?"
"Don't let it go to your head." Cat turned her head slightly, probably to deliver another cutting remark, but the movement brought their faces inches apart.
Time seemed to stop. Kara could see every shade of green in Cat's eyes, could count her individual eyelashes. Cat's gaze dropped to Kara's lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back up.
"We should—" Cat started.
"Yeah, we should—" Kara agreed.
Neither of them moved.
"HELLO? ANYBODY STILL HERE?"
They jumped apart as the janitor's voice echoed down the hallway. Cat immediately began gathering her things, her movements jerky and uncoordinated.
"We'll finish tomorrow," she said, not meeting Kara's eyes. "Early, before class."
"Cat—"
"Tomorrow, Danvers."
She was gone before Kara could say anything else, leaving behind only the lingering scent of her perfume and a very confused lacrosse player.