"This was your idea," Mon-El argues matter-of-factly.
The two of them are standing in a back alley behind an alien's house, with Mon-El clambered on Kara's back to reach the high-up window.
"Um, no—" Kara objects, sputtering from beneath him. "No, this was not my idea. This was a hundred percent yours. You're the one who even came up with this lead in the first place— I was trying to get us to ask a few harmless questions at the bar, but nooo, you insisted we break into this guy's house."
Mon-El jerks on the window, trying to force it open, but a loud crack pops through the air and the glass suddenly shatters under his grip. It rains down, and Kara cries out.
"Are you serious?" she hisses. "Did you just break that guy's window?"
"Um, maybe I did," the Daxamite argues, putting his hands on his hips. Kara is astounded, shoving him off of her roughly. "Y'know, it's not exactly a Fishing Prize toy. You have to use force."
"Fisher Price," Kara corrects, standing to dust herself off. Her glasses had gone askew, and she rights them irritably.
"What?" Mon-El asks, and she waves a hand. "Why didn't you, just, uh— fly up there, Supergirl? Would've been way easier."
Kara shakes her head, snorting. "And risk being seen breaking into a guy's house as Supergirl? Come on."
"Ah, here we go," the other alien croons, rolling his eyes. "Supergirl and her pristine reputation. Have you, ever, like, farted in public? Just ripped a giant one while in your supersuit? How's that for a pristine reputation?"
"Uh, says you," she says indignantly. "I heard you rip one in 7-Eleven earlier." Mon-El starts shaking his head, but Kara presses on. "Yeah, I saw it. I was there. He was like, 'Sir, do you want your receipt?' and you farted so loudly you almost didn't hear him."
"Um, last I checked, Kryptonian, you were the one who took us out for breakfast burritos, so. That's on you. Check and mate." He pressis his lips into a smug smile, and Kara just rolls her eyes for the hundredth time.
"Are you going in or not? I'll just do it," she mutters, approaching the broken window entrance. Using her powers to give her a boost, she leaps up and through, expertly swinging her legs in to avoid the sharp glass.
Kara thuds on the ground, standing to observe the surroundings. The window had lead to a rather messy bedroom, with the only light being the sparse streetlamp glow filtering in from the smashed window. The comforter and sheets are all tangled on the king sized bed, and laundry and trash are strewn about across the floor. She steps over it, picking her way through. There are picture frames on the dresser with a smiling man in his mid-twenties and his dark-haired girlfriend. He has a buzzcut and sharp eyes, and Kara instantly recognizes him from the bar. They'd broken into the right house- Mon-El's coworker's.
"Is there anything embarrassing in here?" Mon-El asks, and Kara almost jumps, forgetting he'd come in behind her. "Like a really big dildo? Or a dirty diaper, or something." He's grinning like he thinks this is funny, and Kara shoots him a weird look.
"Does he give you some kind of impression he's into wearing diapers, or are you just kink shaming..?" Kara asks, squinting her eyes. "Actually," she says, holding up a hand when he opens his mouth, "I don't want to know. Let's just find what we came here for."
"Alright, well.. we better hurry," the Daxamite warns, following suit as she starts to pick through the belongings in one of his dressers. "I'm pretty sure his shift ends within the hour."
"We're looking for anything that might suggest he's the meta human we've seen robbing the banks," Kara murmurs, and Mon-El gives a soft mhmmm. "That mask he wears.. it's actually pretty damn good. None of the meta humans we've really dealt with before him have had a disguise disguise. It's smart." Kara pushes aside some junk in the dresser, sifts through clothes and even checks under the lamp and other belongings, but is unable to find anything.
"Hey, Kara, check this out-" Mon-El begins, holding up some boxers from the underwear drawer that have alternating duckies and polka dots on them. "Guy's got style, you've gotta admit.
"Mon-El, put those down," she hisses, just before the sound of a knob jiggling fills the apartment. She meets the other alien's eyes in horror. "He's off already? You said we had an hour."
"I said we had maybe an hour- emphasis on maybe. Get out, get out," Mon-El rushes, shoving Kara towards the broken window.
Heart skipping a beat, she swings up and out, falling somewhat ungracefully onto the pavement of the alleyway. She hears Mon-El clambering out before she has the time to move, and suddenly he's crashing down onto her, slamming her harder into the ground.
"Mon-El-" she groans, struggling. It's then that she fully realizes he's sprawled on top of her, his legs around her thighs and his groin just over hers. She can feel his chest pressed to hers, and an unexpected warmth washes over her. Her cheeks flushing, she stutters, "Y-you're crushing me."
He practically scrambles off her, swallowing so his throat bobs. "I- I'm sorry," he says, but his eyes seem softer. "Let's get out of here before anyone sees us." He takes her hand, helping her up.
As they run down the alleyway, it takes him a second to release her hand, but strangely enough Kara doesn't really mind. "This was all your fault," she says to him, but there's a grin tugging at her lips.
"Nuh-uh."
She hits him playfully in the arm.
