Somehow the glare in Cat Grant's eyes was sharper than the scissors her fashion editor held in her hand like a weapon about to cut her boss.

"I told you that this is my fashion issue. You hired me to do a job!" the editor snarled at Cat.

"I try not to do this often," Cat said, her tone most patient, "but I made a mistake in hiring you. I believe it was the assistant editor at your previous position who did all the work. I expect no less from my employees than what I expect from myself. Complete and utter perfection every time. This is barely satisfactory."

"Miss Grant!" Kara called out, running through the offices to find her boss. She'd only had to follow the dangerous sound of voices not being raised to discover the whereabouts of the very exact CEO.

"Yes, Kiera?" Cat asked with sharpness.

Kara paused and looked at her, really looked at her. She noticed the slashed outfit the woman was wearing. Was that the fashion editor's idea of a joke? It wasn't funny. Cat was using all her considerable skills to keep calm, but Kara recognized the way the tips of her ears turned red when she was furious.

"Miss Grant," Kara said softly, stepping into her personal space, "Carter's school called. He needs to see you."

Giving another glare to the fashion editor before switching into mother mode, Cat asked softly and with a clenched jaw, "Is it important? Can the nanny get him?"

"I honestly don't know, Ms. Grant," Kara said, her expression softening.

"Well, I can't go there looking like this! That heathen knows nothing of fashion. You know more about fashion than she does, and that's saying something," Cat groused.

Kara stared at her again, noticing how the artful cuts and slashes in the material positively highlighted Cat's body and were almost scandalous-certainly much more than would be appropriate at her son's school.

"I have an idea," Kara said in that shy way she still used around Ms. Grant. Even that was true. Sometimes in her thoughts the woman was Cat, and sometimes she was still intimidating enough to be Ms. Grant.

"I'm listening," Cat replied with her don't-waste-my-time voice.

"You could use my camisole," Kara said. "Just slip it on under your dress, and you'd get a pretty two-color effect."

"Camisole? The one you're wearing now?" Cat asked as she, too, studied Kara.

"Yes, ma'am," Kara said.

Not two full seconds passed, and Cat made her decision. "Follow me into the elevator, and get undressed."

"Ms. Grant?" Kara squeaked.

"You heard me. Let's go. My son's waiting," she said as she stalked to the elevator with purposeful intent and pressed the call button.

The doors opened, and Cat stepped inside. Kara followed and shyly, though immediately, started unbuttoning her shirt. Cat looked her up and down the same way she always did-with extreme control. Kara handed her the button down shirt she'd finished taking off, and then reached to pull the camisole over her head. It only slightly jostled her glasses and updo. Then she handed the camisole to Cat and wordlessly reached for her outer shirt.

Cat looked at Kara's bra, not saying what she thought about it. Then she handed over the shirt the younger woman had been wearing. Cat shook her head because it was now her turn to get undressed in the small metal box.

"Unzip me," she told Kara, who complied clumsily with Cat's order.

As elegant as a seduction, Cat let her dress fall to the floor. For the briefest of moments, she, too, was standing in her gorgeous matched lingerie. Then she took Kara's camisole that was still warm from her body heat, and Cat slipped it over her head to pull it down. Because Kara was taller and generally bigger than she was, the camisole fit Cat like the miniest of mini-dresses.

Cat then elegantly bent down at the knees to pick up her dress and put it back on. She stood up gracefully and softly commanded, "Zip me, please."

Momentarily thrown by the word please, Kara gently smoothed Cat's soft blonde hair off the nape of her neck so she could zip the dress without catching any hair in it.

When Cat was done, she faced Kara. "Well? How do I look?"

Licking her lips with distraction, Kara bobbed her head, "You look nice, Ms. Grant. You look really nice."

Sighing like a martyr, Cat said, "That's about all I can expect. Let me go check on my son."

"Yes, Ms. Grant. Of course," Kara said as they rode in silence in the elevator down to where Cat's private driver was waiting on standby.

Cat took care of Carter's emergency at school as a good mother would, but Kara never got her camisole back. She was, however, treated to an anonymous lingerie shopping spree on Valentine's Day.