The blond woman sat with her eyes closed as she breathed in the rhythmic pattern that the man next to her had demonstrated. They were not quiet at the highest point of Sierra de la Ventana mountain range, the point known as Cerro Tres Picos. It was a warm day, relatively speaking, with temperatures in the mid seventies. Not unusual for Argentina in November, even at an elevation of four thousand feet. Because of their respective gifts, neither the man nor the woman sitting beside him required any wheeled or winged assistance reaching the spot that they had chosen for their picnic.

Kara Zor-El, know as Kara Danvers to the residents of Earth, gave up her latest attempt and opened her eyes.

Her face, and her voice when she finally spoke, was a model of frustration. "I'm still not getting it. Why is it so fucking hard?"

Exactly six years separated their births. Six years and about 27 light years as the crow flies, if crows could fly in space at 671 million miles per hour. They had not met completely by accident, it had been more like a near miss. Kara and her sister, Aric and his brother, all in the same club at the same time; them, and the magician at the bar that was making money off the other patrons by using statistics like a set of nunchucks. He had probably counted heads and when that count approached one-hundred he called out, Who wants to bet that there's at least two people in here with the same birthday? He even gave odds. At three-to-one he got two slightly inebriated fish to bite, each for $100. When Kara's sister eventually shouted out a date it turned out to be Kara's birthday, not Alex's.

"August 15th!"

"Hey, that's his birthday!" Aric's brother Maas shouted as he pointed to the man standing next to him, who many people thought was his twin even though two years separated their births.

Not totally an accident. Maas had considered it his sacred fraternal duty to assist Aric as his elder brother (his only brother, in fact) navigated the healing process after his breakup with Rita. Aric and Rita had been a couple for almost ten years, and the rule of thumb for such breakups (one month grieving/healing for every year of relationship) had not even been close to what was needed for Aric (or, for that matter, Rita). Neither Aric nor Maas had any way to know that the blonde woman with whom Aric shared a birthday was also navigating the wreckage of a failed relationship with the help of her older (and, it turned out, only) sister, and that the aforementioned rule of thumb was just as inaccurate for her as it was for Aric. But that night, two years after Aric and Kara had begun their separate, painful, journeys of grief and recovery, each of them was at a point in their lives where they could look at an attractive face that was smiling at them and feel the familiar flame rekindle in their hearts.

Not totally an accident. Is anything that happens in the universe an accident? Aric wondered regularly. Or are we all on a preordained roller coaster, on rails fixed securely in place, allowing no deviation left or right, and certainly no going backwards. Theoretically. Kara claimed she could do it. Theoretically. She swears that her cousin had actually done it. Far be it from Aric to call bullshit on anything just because it seemed far fetched. It was a far fetched idea (in Kara's opinion) that led them to where they were. Not technically true; Aric had picked the spot because it was one of his favorites. It was the activity they were undertaking that she thought was far fetched. Far fetched and, apparently, fucking hard.

Aric adopted a reassuring tone of voice. "You've only tried to do it a few times. Give yourself more time."

Kara's tone of voice was anything but reassuring. "I have been giving it more time!" She picked up a rock and threw it in the general direction of North America. Aric quickly lost sight of the small projectile, which had let out a popping noise as it broke the sound barrier. It would come to rest eventually, several miles from where it had started, having hurt, and having been observed by, no one.

Aric took in an exasperated breath and let it out again.

"Jesus, you're just like Rita. If it doesn't come easy in the first five minutes..." he paused while he reached for the half full bottle. "Here, have more wine, maybe that'll help," Aric said as he refilled their glasses.

Kara held out her almost empty glass. "In case you forgot, alcohol doesn't affect me."

"I meant it'll help me."

They had dated for less than a year before learning the truth about each other. They both looked, for very different reasons, much younger than they really were, and their relative ages were the first lies they had told; first in a long list of falsehoods both of them separately thought were necessary to protect each other from dangerous truths. It had been a trivial thing, ultimately, that had tripped Aric up; a minor detail combined with Kara's almost total innate ability to block any sort of mental connection, from Aric or anyone else. He was so used to having to block out the presence of other minds, while still being able to tell when those minds were nearby, that he failed to notice Kara until it was too late. He had finally begun to relax as the energy flowed out of him, his body glowing like a small sun, illuminating the midnight tranquility of northern Vermont. His eyes were still gazing out over the dark surface of Lake Willoughby, his feet approximately fifty feet above the water when he heard the soft voice from just behind him.

"Penny for your thoughts."

In the intervening seven years they had still not shared thoughts. It was, in Aric's opinion, one of the main reasons that they had stayed such close friends. That, and the fact they both knew what it was like to navigate a world that was not really theirs, a world where they didn't quite fit in. A world that placed a heavy burden on each of them.

"Let's take a break," Kara said as she stood up and brushed bread crumbs from her slacks and took in the view from not quite Cerro Tres Picos. "Maybe I'll just hold my breath like Kal."

"We're not going to see the Ice Cliffs on Pluto just so you can hold your breath the whole time. You can do it, you just need to practice."

"I'm not a plant. I can't generate my own oxygen. And you, you freak show, how you do it is still a fucking mystery to me. You're human for Christ sake. You don't have space gills."

"You already take in electromagnetic radiation from the Sun and convert it into whatever the hell you convert it into, and you do some pretty amazing things with it afterwards. And since when does Supergirl swear?"

"Supergirl? Never. Kara Danvers? All the fucking time."

"My point is that this is just like that, you just need to channel it."

"I need to channel electromagnetic radiation and create a thylakoid layer just underneath my skin so that the sunlight can convert it into oxygen in my bloodstream. Easy Peasy."

"You already do something like that. Sunlight breaks down the dehydrocholesterol beneath your skin and converts it into vitamin D; at least my body does that. Your body doesn't seem to have an ounce of fat on it."

Kara's face showed her thousand watt smile as her cheeks became slightly blushed at Aric's compliment on her exquisite figure.

"Thanks. You're not storing a lot of extra fat either, beratna."

Aric sat down and patted the blanket next to him as he picked up his wine.

Kara Zor-El, aka Kara Danvers, aka Supergirl, sat down on the blanket again. "Fine."

The two of them ate crusty bread and drank wine for a minute.

"How's Beth?" she asked innocently.

"She's good. She's spending Thanksgiving in Chicago with her family."

She had first heard the news from Kal, who had seen the two of them together; an inevitable event now that Aric was spending more time in the city where his new girlfriend lived. She had seen it for herself shortly after, though from a distance; far enough that she had not recognized the face beneath that full head of brown hair, far enough that Aric had not seen her, but not far enough to insulate her heart from the pain of seeing him with someone else, even after all this time. She had met Beth later, and tried to put on a brave, friendly face. She held onto that false exterior until she got home, when the facade shattered completely.

"When will she be back?"

"Next week. She asked me to come out and meet the family. Her Dad anyway, and her cousin. I've already met her sister."

Kara didn't need an introduction where it came to Kate Kane. The two women had met while Kara and Aric had still been dating. At that time each had correctly, though unofficially, identified the alter ego of the other, but kept that information to themselves. Their friendship had grown, though at a distance, over the next several years when circumstances caused those alter egos to bump into each other. The first time she had met Beth her shock at recognizing the woman she thought was Kate, but with much longer hair, evaporated quickly when Aric introduced her as Beth. The fact that Kara had met Beth's sister before Aric had, and that she had known of Beth's existence before Aric had, was still a piece of information that Kara had not shared, as was Kate's identity as Batwoman. There was a certain symmetry, in Kara's opinion, that she had never informed Kate of Aric's existence, or that she had met him eight years before Kate had.

All those secrets. How many people have I lied to, actively or passively, over the years?

Kara was quiet for long enough that Aric felt something was wrong. He nudged his shoulder against hers to get her attention.

"What?" he asked when she looked at him.

"Nothing. Just...remember that talk about how dating normal people is a bad idea? That it never ends well? Don't get me wrong, you seem really happy, and I'm happy for you. It's just..."

"I hear you. But she's different."

so am I, she thought, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't hear her.

Kara waited through the brief silence as Aric collected his own private thoughts.

"There was something...I can't describe it...it felt right the first time we connected. Comfortable. Like putting on your favorite shirt. The feeling when something fits perfectly. We filled up each other's empty places. It still feels like that."

Kara felt the familiar pain settle around her heart as he spoke about his latest love interest.

"Is it always that way when you find someone? You don't have to analyze it, or draw a line down the center of a sheet of paper and write the pluses on one side and the minuses on the other? You just know, no doubt in your mind?"

"Are you talking about me specifically, or are you talking about relationships in general?"

Kara looked down at her hands and smiled through the pain she was feeling. "Why is it I never found the right person? Or I found them, but never realized it until it was too late?"

He's the one I let get away, she thought as they sat side by side. She had the freedom to think that, knowing that she was one of the few people on the planet whose thoughts he could not extract from the ether. I couldn't see it then. It was only later...when I saw him with Beth, and my heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Aric's left hand move to Kara's back, which he began to rub gently. Her entire body responded to his touch, like a flower opening to sunlight.

"I don't know, sweetie. You put everyone else's needs ahead of your own. You take the weight of the entire world on your shoulders, and you worry about putting the people you love in danger if they get too close to you and become collateral damage. It's hard to shoehorn a relationship into that somewhere. But Kal did it. He found someone. So will you. You just have to have faith, and patience. For myself, I always have doubts. Mostly on my side, whether I'm a good boyfriend, whether I can hold up my end of the relationship. Whether I give too much of myself, or too little. Whether it feels right because it really is, or because I'm making both of us believe that it is."

God, how can you be so blind? Can't you see how I still feel about you? she thought as his hand continued to work it's magic on her. She instinctively moved closer so that their shoulders touched.

Kara hesitated a moment before asking. "Would it have felt like that for us do you think? If we had connected? Would it have felt right because it really was?"

Kara turned so that their eyes met, their faces only inches apart. Her face always made Aric smile, just like he was smiling now. "I don't know," he repeated softly before he used the back of his hand to stroke her cheek. "I like to think it would have, and that thought makes me very happy."

OK, maybe you're not so blind after all.

Her eyes grew damp as she placed her hand on his face, a mirror image of his hand on hers. "Me too."

Barbara looked at her phone, which had just vibrated in her pocket.

Nigel is having a small reception at the gallery December 1st for Ross Orenda. I remember how much you liked his work. Do you want to come?

"Unfucking believable!"

"What?" Ruth asked the woman who stood just a few feet away from her desk.

"Now she's inviting me to a fucking reception."

Ruth Cawfield shook her head as she spoke. She didn't need to guess who she was, Ruth had seen the train wreck that was Barbara's breakup with her former girlfriend firsthand owing to the amount of time Babs spent with or near her father. "Not good, kiddo. Don't get on this merry-go-round again. Your last ride was far from merry."

Barbara was still looking around the large room that let out onto a long corridor through one door while letting into her fathers office through another like she was searching for someone or something that could explain what exactly was going on.

"That's a very romantic way of saying she ripped my heart out and stomped on it," Barbara said to her father's assistant. "Ross fucking Orenda. No way Nigel invited him. Nigel hates Native American art."

"Are we still calling it that?" Ruth asked. Ruth had a fear of political incorrectness bordering on pathological. Not that her job, technically her bosses job, gave her much wiggle room. Any little slip, no matter how innocent or unintentional, by the Chicago Police Commissioner (or his staff) was sure to show up on the Internet at warp speed.

"Native American artist, Indigenous Peoples artist, take your pick; Angie doesn't care. Nigel sure as hell doesn't care. This was her that set this up, and not because she gives a shit about supporting ..." Barbara paused while trying to choose the right label. It was in that brief moment of silence that her father walked in from the outer hallway.

"What are you two screaming about?"

"We were not screaming," Ruth said to her boss while Babs simply handed him her phone.

"Ruh roh," the commissioner of the CPD said after reading the invitation.

"Well said," his daughter replied before sitting down in the nearest chair. She was as close to tears as he had seen her in some time, but he couldn't tell if it was sadness or anger (or both) that was causing her to react in this way.

"Hey," he said quietly as he knelt in front of her and took her hands, "its OK. I'm here. Tell me what you need. A gallon of ice cream? A bucket of fried chicken? I fifth of Buffalo Trace? All of the above?"

James Gordon was looking up at her while Ruth Cawfield, who was standing just behind him, was looking down. Both of them wore looks of concern, looks that dissipated somewhat as Barbara Gordon let out a small laugh, equal parts laugh and sob, at her father's offer of assistance.

Saludos de Ronda, the text message said just below the stunning picture of the bridge that spanned a beautiful gorge, Feliz Acción de Gracias.

"Selina says Happy Thanksgiving," Bruce said to Alfred Pennyworth as he sipped his coffee.

"Very considerate of her. Where is she hiding these days?"

"Andalusia."

Alfred's head was nodding as he used a pair of calipers to measure the gap in their burr grinder. "Spain. I love Spain. And Portugal. You should buy a house there."

"Spain or Portugal?"

"Both."

They had been an Item in times past. What item Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle had been was still a subject of debate between him and everyone who in any degree was aware that the item ever existed at all. The man sitting next to him, who swore that he could improve their coffee grinder's performance, certainly had his opinion on the nature of Bruce and Selina's relationship. If any two people's opinions had ever matched he might have given them some credence. But even he didn't know what had been between them, except that in that moment of time, and for that length of time, it had been what both of them needed. Neither of them would describe their relationship as healthy, not now, not then. But, given a second chance to relive those years, he would do it all again. He was pretty sure that Selina would too.

"If you're serious, pick a country and go house hunting. One country. One house. I'm not made of money."

"Yes you are," Alfred replied. "Got it! See, I told you I could improve it."

Alfred poured coffee beans into the grinder's hopper and replaced the top before plugging it into the wall. He turned the knob on the front and was rewarded by the sound of beans grinding. And smoke.

"Bugger this blasted thing," he said as he pulled the plug from the wall.

"Might want to shop for another grinder while you're shopping for a house."