[The New Americana
In the immortal words of a forgotten poet, desperate times call for desperate measures.
Cat is desperate. Perhaps not that desperate, even if she's about to ask her assistant out, but she's long since run out of patience. She has waited months, and even that length of time was only possible because Kara is, well, Kara.
Drawing inspiration from Lois Lane, of all people, with associate credit given to Clark Kent and Superman, whichever name he prefers, Cat sets about negotiating a poly relationship with both Kara and Supergirl.
If she won't admit the truth, Cat is just going to have to come at her from both angels.
It's hard to keep things serious when Kara's acting like a puppy on sugar. Which no responsible adult would allow, because canine diabetes is a serious condition affecting thousands of dogs each year. Nevertheless, she persists in laying out her argument, and settles back to hear await Kara's response.
It takes a while but, after blinking a few times, remembering to close her mouth, and blinking some more for good measure, she pulls herself together enough to marshal a response.
"You're saying you're interested in me ..."
Well, obviously.
"And you're interested in... Supergirl?"
Now she's started smiling. That's worrying. Where is she going with this?
"Supergirl. With the cape. Flying around, saving the day. The one you thought was me."
Her grin gets even sunnier. She begins to bounce a little. She may even be starting to float, although that may simply be a property of the new chairs.
Cat contains an eye roll with difficulty. Honestly, how does the girl even maintain the illusion of normality?
"Ms Grant, I think you have a type."
The sheer delight that infuses the statement is ... well, all in all, it's really quite insufferable.
(Cat wouldn't have it any other way.)