The blond woman sat with her eyes closed and breathed in the rhythmic pattern the man next to her had demonstrated. The fragrance of the nearby Jacaranda trees was subtle but pleasant. The purple flowers that adorned the trees were striking. They weren't quite at the highest point of the Sierra de la Ventana mountain range—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 required any wheeled or winged assistance reaching the spot that they had chosen for their picnic.

Kara Zor-El, known 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. "Dammit! Why is it so fucking hard?"

Exactly 132 years separated their births. And 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. Ari felt it had been more like a near miss. With a little nudge from Fate. 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 entirely an accident. Maas considered it his sacred duty to help Aric get over his breakup with Rita. Aric and Rita had been together for nearly a decade. The so-called 'one month per year' rule? Useless. It hadn't even come close to what either of them needed. 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 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 entirely an accident. But then again, is anything? Aric wondered if they were all just strapped onto some preordained roller coaster, locked into rails with no deviation left or right. And certainly no going backwards. 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. The small projectile let out a popping noise as it broke the sound barrier, and Aric quickly lost sight of it. It would come to rest eventually, several miles from where it had started, having hurt no one.

Aric sighed.

"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. Both looked much younger than they really were, for very different reasons. Their ages had been the first lie—just one in a long list of falsehoods they had told to protect each other from dangerous truths. It had been a trivial thing 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 used to having to block out the presence of other minds while still being able to tell when those minds were nearby. 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 glowed 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. In Aric's opinion it was one of the 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. "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 sunlight and convert it into whatever the hell you convert it into. 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."

Her head bobbed as her voice dripped skepticism. "Let me get this straight. I need to channel electromagnetic radiation. To create a thylakoid layer just underneath my skin. So I can photosynthesize like a fucking plant. Easy Peasy."

"You already do something like that. Sunlight breaks down the cholesterol 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 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 both had 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 stared off into the distance, her fingers absentmindedly crushing small stones into dust. Aric nudged her shoulder, a silent question in his touch.

"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? The pluses and minuses of it? You just know, no doubt in your mind?"

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

Aric could see the pain on her face as she smiled. Kara looked down at her hands before answering. "Why is it I never found the right person? Or I found them, but never realized it until it was too late?"

Aric was unaware how much self control it took Kara to stop herself from throwing her arms around him and confessing her feelings. Sitting next to him was a mixture of pleasure and torture. Having him near, but knowing that he belonged to someone else. She had a pain in her chest that wouldn't subside. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. If he'd been able to read her thoughts he would have understood.

Letting you go was a mistake. I couldn't see it then. It was only later...when I saw you with Beth, when my heart broke into a thousand pieces.

She had the freedom to think that. She was one of the few people on the planet whose thoughts he could not extract from the ether.

I love you.

Aric could sense that something was bothering her. Not for the first time he regretted not telling her everything.

I thought that if I opened up you would leave. And instead of letting you in, I let you go. It's my fault we didn't last. Not yours.

His left hand moved 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. Collateral damage. It's hard to shoehorn a relationship into that. 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. Does 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, wiping the stone dust from her lap before finally speaking. "Would it have felt like that for us do you think? If we had connected? Would it have felt right? Would it have been real?"

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.

As he touched her face the knot in her chest began to unwind. Her eyes grew damp as she placed her hand on his face, a mirror image of his hand on hers. "Me too."

Harvey Abrams sat at his desk and contemplated life.

One of the benefits of seniority in the FBI was a private office with a window. The sun was crossing the meridian in Washington, DC, and—for now at least—the sky was cloudless.

Is it really a window if it doesn't open? Or is it just a pane of glass?

June had loved spring in DC. Well, she'd loved the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin. She loved Georgetown University, where she'd taught Classics.

She'd loved a lot of things—the unlikeliest of which had been him.

Harvey considered what she'd be doing today if she hadn't... He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.

She'd already have the turkey dry-brining in the fridge. A collection of apples would be stacked on the sideboard, waiting to be turned into pie, while she ironed and starched the white cloth napkins. She could probably run through her entire routine with her eyes closed.
He was going to do none of it.

He could still close his eyes and recall her face—almost exactly. Her bright eyes. Her mischievous smile. Her dancer's figure, which she kept, more or less, her entire adult life. Her fragrance, which still clung faintly to her clothes in the closet and bureau.

The knock at his door pulled him back to reality.

"Here's the file you wanted," Jim Goodall said, placing the thick brown packet on his desk. "Why are you interested in illegal Chinese police stations in New York?"

"I'm not. Someone else is. Thanks, Jim."

Jim hesitated. "If you don't have plans, Mary and I would love to have you for dinner. You haven't seen the kids in a while."

Harvey had been expecting the invitation. He'd deflected enough of them by now that it required almost no effort.

"Thanks, but I'm just going to stay home and watch football."

Jim nodded and gave him a silent wave as he stepped out.

Harvey opened the packet but didn't read it.

He had no idea how he was going to get through this.

Back in the Chicago, Barbara Gordon's phone buzzed 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 first hand 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 on it was not merry."

Barbara was still looking around the large room 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 out of sadness or anger.

"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 hug? A gallon of ice cream? A bucket of fried chicken? A bottle 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. Those looks dissipated 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 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 at it."

Bruce took another sip of his coffee as his thoughts returned to Selina.

Some broken things you can't mend. Some you have to put together very slowly piece by fragile piece.

Selina had loved that quote by Juliet Marllier. Of course the broken thing Selina had in mind was Bruce. Bruce had been more partial to L. R. Knost.

Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention.

Gotham was certainly broken. But Bruce Wayne believed that it could be mended. He wasn't as sure about his relationship with Selina. But if he ever got the chance, he intended to try.