(Kara)

You smile and look at the people around you, taking pictures, talking, some screaming, everyone shocked beyond anything they've ever seen. How could you be real, they ask. How are you possible?

You glance through the crowd and notice some familiar faces from people you know, and are glad for your mask. Lois is right, you need to be the city's hero, you need to do what you can as your powers allow you to, but you need to be protected.

These people can't know who you truly are. Not really. They can know the hero, as a saviour, as an angel, but not as Kara. Never, as Kara. You smile meekly, waving at everyone, and hover as you turn in an ark, staring at them all, taking it in.

Juno, the bakery boy who has a crush on you. Mark, the friendly neighbour. Oscar, the guard who knows you so well. So many friendly faces, you count, and then... you stop.

And stare.

Cat.

You stare blatantly, eyes locked to hers, and the pure shock and bewilderment on her face. You don't dare smile, you can't afford the chance of a connection made, but with her here, somehow you feel... safe. And that sounds sick even to you. You're the hero now, and she makes you feel safe. What irony.

But you still can't look away, even when she lifts her phone and snaps one steady clear photo after another, the flashes bright in your eyes. You're seeing nothing besides her, and damn, everything else is fading into nothing, white compared to the sudden complete light of her.

You're heart is racing, tripping over itself. You're head is hazy and you feel unsteady. You're body is suddenly overheated. And you know it's not because your flying. It's because of her. Lois told you these things, and you know it happens. But you never thought it would happen to you. With her.

You don't want to know, and you might cry from it, tears in your eyes suddenly. Because your in love with her, you realize now. And that's sad, because you know you can't ever talk to her, because she can't know you. She's dangerous, and that hurts, because it's the first hint of happiness you've had since you left Krypton.

You fight back your tears as she takes one shot after another, flashes blinding you, and stand tall, clenching your fists. Hero's don't cry, and that's what you have to be now.

(Cat)

You knew the second you saw the metallic blue and gold, the bodytight top and matching blue tights, along with gold pump heels, that she would be spectacular. You knew that instantly. Within two hours of seeing her, you have that shaky image you took of her on the paper, on the cover. People love you for it, congratulate you for it, and you want to revel in the beauty of the success. You always have.

You should be able to put the story away now and focus on the next one, but something keeps you stuck on her image. Long thick blonde hair in the wind, red painted lips, half her face covered by a beautifully unusual mask. There's something about her that keeps dragging you back, telling you something. She looks... like someone you know. But you can't predict who she is.

You don't know her. That you can count on. How could you know her? But damn, she looks so... those eyes bore into the camera lens, staring straight at you, practically screaming in vibrant color. You can't not stare at them, it's like she knows you somehow. The way she stopped when she spotted you, just barely, stuns you. How could she know you?

"Catherine?"

You look up at the person who walks into your office and smile, placing the cover photo down for the thousandth time, meeting your boss's eyes.

"Yes Mr. White?"

"I think it's time for you to spread your wings, Cat. I know where you want to be, and I think it's finally time, with this kind of cover story. Good job, Catherine Grant. I'm granting you what you deserve, you have definitely earned it. Go catch your dreams, you definitely know how, and now is the time.

Two weeks later, (Cat)

The name of the one that starts your company off with a hit, a spark, a name. She's celestial, special, unearthly. And so is the moment when you buy your first $1000 fountain pen. Your victory pen. Your congratulatory gift. As of today, you are Cat Grant. Owner and CEO to the upcoming and new CatCo Worldwide Media.

You tell yourself it's all too real, and inside you are happy. You are very very happy. But you feel like that happiness is due to the new things in this city. And maybe they are. Your first big scoop, the groundbreaking opening to your life. All of it is due to the new hero of National City. Her name is hard to pronounce, Khehth, you think, but even after hearing it blared across a billion airwaves and news works, including yours, you still can't pronounce it. And for some reason, you still keep picturing the girl. The blue eyed girl that calls herself Kara. Just Kara. And her boy. Clark. Just Clark.

It makes no sense to think of her in this second, but you do, regardless, as you stand outside with your pen and watch as this Khehth stands in the middle of the street, her 10th appearance in 14 days, after fighting off something that you can't even begin to contemplate.

She stands tall, shoulders back, so authoritative, and her outfit a wild colour wheel of madness.

You lift your phone from your bag and snap a few shots of her, for your next magazine cover, she always ends up on the cover and with a full gallery, and she turns to you slowly, but not quite. Nobody else is here this time, everyone fled in the face of that... alien?, and she keeps eye contact with you.

You feel your heart beating out of your chest, and feel goosebumps rise on your skin at her beautiful wild eyes, blue as diamonds, and her hand comes to her mask.

You gasp audibly, and she looks at your phone intently, and as if possessed you put it away, sensing that this, isn't for the news. It's for you and you alone. You want more than life to know why.

The mask lifts slowly, and you stare in shock, watching her fingers lift the mask to sweep over thick blond hair, and you get a glimpse of blue eyes and a shy familiar grin, and nearly drop your pen and your bag and everything else.

Kara.