Gear Up
It has been a tough day.
No. It has been a tough week. Kara has fought eleven different types of Fort Rozz reject in the last three days alone.
Touching down on the roof of the Catco building, she rubs her eyes wearily, an actual yawn pulling at her mouth. She needs to sleep, for like a month. And eat. Rao, she is starving. A quick look at the huge clock on top of the Timex building reveals that it is still mid-morning. She groans. Lunch is too far away, and she hasn't got the energy to use her super speed. She hopes that Winn will have peanut bars in his desk.
She steps around the huge vent shaft to retrieve her Kara Danvers clothes.
"What the – "
On top of the hastily discarded pile of clothing, sits a huge white pastry box. Like, really huge. Lifting the lid she reveals cupcakes, donuts and French pastries, at least a dozen of each. her hand automatically clenches into a victorious fist pump of Oh yeah!
She ignores the sensible Alex voice in her head, telling her to be cautious, and instead, listens to the voice of the yummy baked goods, telling her to eat them. And eat, in this instance, means scarf them down like a pro competitive-eating champion.
Who has time for cautious, when there are donuts involved? Besides, this gift can only be from Winn, or James, or even Alex herself. Right?
She sighs contentedly around a mouthful of donut. Feels more like herself again. That is, until she notices the envelope. Eggshell blue, with 'Supergirl' swirled upon it. All elegant strokes and expensive ink.
Cursive that she has only ever seen on memos. Post-it notes with barked orders; 'Take this to copy', 'Get me a cheeseburger', 'Latte. Now."
She peels it open gingerly, like the contents might burst out and take a bite of her sugar coated hand.
Dear Kara,
This is the eighth time this week that I have found a pile of your clothing (and those ridiculous glasses). In a corner of the stairwell; in a stall in the girl's restroom; on the floor of the archive room; in the stationery cupboard; under a desk in the copy room; tucked down the side of the executive's vending machine; under the boardroom table.
And yes, you may of course have some kind of 'Time Traveller's Wife' style syndrome, or a penchant for spontaneous nudity. Or you are in fact Supergirl.
Either way, it's very careless of you, and it won't be long before someone else stumbles upon your little rag heaps and makes the obvious leap. Use my private washroom in future.
I do not wish to see a pile of your clothes abandoned like this again, unless it is:
i) In a box marked 'charity donation'
ii) About to be set on fire
iii) On my bedroom floor
Enjoy the pastries and take the rest of the day off, I know it's been a busy week.
Yours,
Cat
P.S I'll be drinking in Noonan's tonight from 8pm if Kara or Supergirl would like to join me.
Kara smiles. Grabs her stuff, and heads home to sleep.
She has a hot date tonight...
The End
A/N Bit of nonsense I wrote on my cell phone when I was at work and supposed to be listening intently to a conference call...
