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my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

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In a way, they're perfect for each other. In a way, they're both lying through their teeth. It starts on a Wednesday afternoon, in DC.

Kara is there, for complicated Supergirl-related reasons that start with wanting to visit former President Marsden (or is she still President Marsden, forever and ever? Kara needs to double-check before she submits her article and the copy editors tease her) and ends with a frantic text from Brainy that leads to a frantic text to Kate who says that she knows someone who knows her cousin Bruce and they recommend that Kate tell Kara to ask around for someone named Diana Prince.

Diana Prince who Kara knows, right away, is definitely not human.

She's maybe not an alien, either - Kara's not sure. But she handles artifacts with a deliberateness that Kara recognizes in her own hands, in Clark's hands. She's built like a statue, tall and graceful with an accent that Kara can't quite place and super strength and kind eyes and soft hands and Kara makes a mental note to ask Kate exactly how Bruce's friend knows her.

Kara shows Diana her phone, watches as Diana cradles it in both palms. Brainy sent photos. There's this thing, this artifact that's been at the center of three separate heists this week and that's odd in itself, but what's odder still is that none of the DEO resources can identify it. Diana's fingers are almost tentative as she raises an eyebrow, asking wordlessly for consent to swipe through to the next photo.

Kara nods, reaches out to flick through in the correct direction, show Diana the other angles. She takes care to keep her touch delicate, mirroring Diana's deliberateness. Phones are so much more fragile than people realize.

Diana frowns. "Where did you find this?"

"My, um - friend. He works at the DEO, wanted to know if I could help identify it."

Diana's expression shifts almost imperceptibly. It's just a flicker, a quick filing-away. She doesn't seem bothered by the obvious lie. She doesn't press, or comment on how strange it is that a semi-secret government organization with access to vast databases and near-infinite resources would be asking a random journalist for help. She just - notices. Kara's not sure she'd pick up on it, if it weren't for the fact that she's doing the very same thing to Diana.

Diana makes a noise, an absent-minded little hmm in the back of her throat. Then she frowns, her fingertips resting on a part of the photo that Kara hadn't paid much attention. "Do you have a better picture? Of this part, here?"

Kara reaches for the screen, gestures with her thumb and index finger to zoom in but it blurs the area in question beyond recognition. "I don't think so," she says.

Diana sighs. They're both leaning in, shoulder-to-shoulder over Kara's phone, so Kara feels it more than she sees it; the shift in Diana's body language that signals that whatever this artifact is, it's Something.

(Diana doesn't slump down, doesn't tense her shoulders with worry. She sets them back, stands taller, as if bracing for a fight. A warrior, then, wherever she's from.)

"Could you ask your - friend? I'd like to take a closer look."

Kara nods. "Of course. I could, um - have it brought here. If that would help."

Diana's eyes go wide, a little flicker of worry before she recovers. "No, that's quite alright - I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble." So, it's that kind of Something.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Kara - tell your friend not to touch it. That's very important." Then, almost as an afterthought: "It might, um. Affect the value. This looks very old."

Kara notices. Files away the lie, but doesn't examine it too closely. She wonders if Diana picks up on it. "Whatever you recommend," Kara says. "I'll let him know."

+

Kara's in Diana's office again the next afternoon, her laptop hard drive nearly full with detailed high-resolution photos and a 3D scan.

(Carefully calibrated to not activate any latent properties the artifact might possess, the technology for which was explained at great length in a text-message dissertation that Brainy sent in eleven separate messages between 3:00 and 3:30 in the morning.)

Diana opens the 3D scan, blinks three times. "This is impressive," she says. "Can I ask how it was conducted? The scan, I mean."

Kara takes out her phone, throws out a few key phrases from her thread with Brainy. "I told my friend you were worried," she says. "About, um. Preserving its value."

Diana looks a little absent, blinks as though she'd forgotten her cover story from the day before. "Right, it - yes. Thank you."

Kara shrugs. "Brainy - Barney, my friend Barney loves his tech. You might even say it's a part of him."

She grins at her own joke, self-indulgent in her sleep deprivation. Diana notices the smile, couldn't possibly pick up on the layers of double-meaning but she still smiles politely in reply. Diana has a smile that could light up a whole room. It makes Kara think of - what's the story. Ancient Greece. Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousand ships.

Kara waits in Diana's office while she studies the images.

It's bigger than Kara had initially noticed at their first meeting. There's a worktable, the space clear save for a notebook and a pen but the crates stacked nearby indicate its purpose. Beyond that is a bookshelf, stuffed to near-bursting with books and overstuffed file-folders - some oversized, for art and documents, some letter-sized for journal articles. It's an academic's bookshelf, and Kara can't help but think about the ways it reminds her of Eliza's office back in Midvale.

The office turns a little corner, L-shaped in a way that isn't immediately obvious from the doorway. In the little alcove is a desk with Diana's laptop and a phone charger. The art on the walls here is different. A sword and shield that look a little older, a little more like they belong on the floor of the museum and when Kara asks about them Diana gives her a too-casual chuckle. "Oh, it's just a reproduction," she says. "I'd never be able to keep the real thing in my office like that. Can you imagine?"

"Of course," Kara says. The sword is sharpened to a knife edge, gleaming, and the shield looks older than civilization itself but there are dents in the finish that almost look like bullet marks. She keeps her observations to herself, says, "They're beautiful."

"Aren't they?" Diana says. "They belonged to an ancient group of fierce women warriors - the originals, anyway."

Diana's voice softens when she talks about them, the sword and the shield. It sounds almost like she's talking about old friends. Kara knows that feeling.

It's comfortable, somehow. They transfer the files from Kara's computer onto Diana's so that Kara can work on her article at the desk while Diana studies Brainy's model. Kara sits at an angle, half-typing her first draft, half-observing Diana.

(Diana, half-studying the model, half-observing Kara.)

After a few hours, Diana straightens to a stand. She looks sure of herself. "Kara, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Kara says.

"Your friend. What kind of facility does he have at the DEO?"

Diana asks vague questions, but she asks a lot of them. About the security at the DEO, about the types of containment, whether the agents are trustworthy. Kara pulls out her phone, texts Brainy the translation: Probably something terrible happens if you touch it. Maybe mind control? Nobody should put their hands on it ever. Can you bury it 100ft below ground encased in lead, is that a thing you still do?

That's comfortable, too. The unspoken layer of - Diana knows that Kara isn't quite who she says she is, and Kara knows the same about Diana, but they're both playing along. It feels like dancing. The words they're saying and then the real meanings underneath the words, back and forth, Diana matching her step for step.

+

They stay late. They talk about the artifact and then about Diana's work and then the art in her office and suddenly it's evening. There aren't any windows in Diana's office, but looking at the time Kara realizes it must be well after sunset.

"Kara," she asks. There's a question in her tone, a lilt that makes Kara's heart accelerate slightly. She's been too obvious. She's given herself away, Diana must know that she's - "Would you like to get something to eat?"

Now Kara's heart squeezes for another reason, starts to beat faster because there's a chance that she's read this all wrong. Maybe Diana hasn't been noticing Kara's strength, picking up on the obvious tells of Kara's powers. Maybe Diana's just been noticing her in the girls-like-girls way, and now she's looking at Kara with a directness that's almost too much for Kara to bear, waiting for a reply. "You mean like, um. Dinner?"

Diana's smile is gentle and easy. She's amused, but in the most affectionate way possible. Like she thinks you're cute. The thought floats suddenly to the forefront of Kara's awareness and she dismisses it just as quickly. "Exactly like dinner," Diana says. "I know a good place around the corner, if you like Italian."

Diana says the word Italian and Kara is immediately aware of the fact that she hasn't eaten since breakfast. She's craving pasta, spaghetti with meatballs in a really good bolognese sauce, the kind that's cooked over hours with layers and layers of flavour and cheese on top and she just can't help herself. She groans out loud, so absorbed in the idea of dinner that she's forgotten entirely about the fact that it's with Diana.

(With Diana and maybe a date. Unless it's not.)

"Is that a yes, then?"

"It is a definite yes," Kara says. "I haven't eaten all day."

"Well, now it's settled. It's an emergency." Diana winks, and Kara's body reacts in a way that she feels right down to the tips of her toes.

+

Diana takes her to a little restaurant that proudly proclaims on it is menu that it's been there since 1956. The lights overhead and the little outdoor tables feel very European; they remind Kara of what she's seen flying through Paris & Rome.

The hostess recognizes her, calls Diana by her first name with a warmth that surprises Kara. Diana seems so isolated at work, almost removed from the day-to-day of the rest of the world. But here, Diana greets the hostess with a warm hand on her shoulder and a wide smile, calls her by her first name. "Maria," she says. "How are your grandchildren?"

Maria lights up, launches into the first half of a story about little Anthony's soccer tryouts when she catches sight of Kara. Her gaze slides from Diana to Kara and back again, before she says, "You have company tonight."

Diana's expression is simultaneously unreadable and universal. Kara sees the same look on Alex's face when Eliza asks about whether she and Kelly are thinking of getting married someday. "She's a colleague, Maria," Diana says, her voice gently asking her to please calm down. "I'm helping her with an article."

Maria looks back over Diana's shoulder. "An article," she says.

Kara steps forward, hand extended. "Kara Danvers, Catco Magazine."

Maria accepts Kara's handshake two-handed, smiling. "Kara," she says firmly, as though she's committing it to memory. "It's nice to meet you."

Diana has a usual table, outside near the sidewalk, in the corner of the patio. The perfect spot to people-watch.

(But also, the table where Diana can sit with a wall at her back and the best view of the street and Kara notices, files it away for later.)

Maria leaves them, asks if they'll be having wine with dinner. Diana catches Kara's eye, waits for Kara to nod before passing agreement on to Maria. She doesn't order anything, but a few minutes later one of Maria's colleagues appear with a bottle that Diana smiles at with approval. So, a usual order, then.

It's sweet. It feels like a little glimpse into Diana's world - into Diana herself. She's so polished, her words chosen carefully, everything about her put together. Seeing her like this softens those clean edges, a little.

"They really love you here," Kara says. "You must be a good customer."

Diana's smile gets a little faraway. Kara's starting to recognize it as a tell. "I did a favor for the owner," she says. "A long time ago."

Kara nods. There's a place like that for her in National City, too. She knows the owner and his children by name, and Supergirl rescued their cat one time and got so much free food as a thank-you that she could barely carry it home.

(She doesn't mention that. About the rescuing, about Supergirl. She just mentions that she and the owner have bonded, that she tries to support local. It sounds a little hollow out of context, but the smile Diana gives her in reply is knowing.)

Kara wonders which of Maria's grandchildren Diana's rescued - or if it was a generation before that. Diana talks in a way that reminds Kara a little of J'onn, like she's older than she looks. Not in the grown-up, mid-thirties sense but like - old old. Like, remembers things from last century because she lived them old. It's probably not polite to ask. Kara doesn't even know how she would. Anyway, I'm Supergirl and I was just wondering if you were also a superhero since you seem weird and ageless and like you can lift a car one-handed.

Their food arrives - Diana's usual, spaghetti with meatballs for Kara - and Kara doesn't get a chance to ask.

+

They finish dinner. They drink wine that doesn't affect Kara one bit and that she suspects has a similar effect on Diana. But they both pretend out of habit: Diana talks a little louder, laughs more. Kara smiles more easily, reaches out to touch Diana's forearm while they talk.

At the end of the night, they split the bill and Diana offers to walk Kara back to her hotel.

"Oh, I can just -" fly, she wants to say, but doesn't. She sort of likes it, flying around a new city. The skyscrapers aren't as familiar, she doesn't know the patterns yet. It's a fun challenge.

Diana waves her away with a swooping gesture. "I insist," she says. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you alone at night. Besides, I was the one who dragged you out here, it's only fair that I get you home safe."

It's almost - gallant. Diana's generosity, the earnestness and warmth directed so fully toward Kara. It's so rare these days for someone to offer to protect her, and Kara forgot how nice it feels. "Alright," she says, affection edging into her voice. "If you insist."

They walk in silence for the first few blocks. It feels comfortable, at least from Kara's side of it. They've talked so much, shared - well, that's hard to say. Shared everything but also nothing at all, but also somehow everything. Sharing through subtext, through gestures and smiles over the edges of wine glasses and Kara's fingertips trailing down Diana's forearm. It's hard to explain.

They're stopped at a corner, waiting for the traffic light to change. It's night, but city-night: the sky is black but everything is still lit with a gentle yellow-orange streetlight and apartment light glow. The air is cool; Diana's breath forms a little cloud of condensation in front of her as she speaks but neither of them really feel it in a way that bothers them. "It's been nice to have some company," Diana says.

Something warm expands inside Kara's chest. She feels like she's glowing from the inside out. "Likewise," Kara replies. "Sometimes - work - can feel sort of lonely."

Kara's not trying to insinuate much, but she's pretty sure that she and Diana both have two jobs: their regular jobs and then the other one. That second one, that's sometimes harder than Kara can really put into words. The missed movie nights, the cancelled dates, the times when all Kara wants to do is be Kara Danvers but if she does then Supergirl isn't where she's needed - it adds up. It gets lonely. Diana's expression shifts, a smile that's soft and just on the wrong side of sad.

Kara understands, not for the first time, why so many heroes don't try to keep friendships.

(Which isn't to say - Kara knows. She knows that she needs them, knows that having her friends keeps her whole and focused and connected. But it's hard work, it's painful work and she just - she understands both sides. Understands Diana, out of time, observing the world from the outside even when she clearly loves so much about it. She understands that just as much as she understands herself, her own need to reschedule game night over and over because it's worth it in the end.)

"It can," Diana says. The look in her eyes makes Kara's heart ache. She knows that feeling, holds that feeling somewhere secret in the deepest place of her heart. Kara's filled with a wild urge to comfort Diana, somehow.

When Diana reaches out for Kara's hand, Kara takes it.

Their fingers lace together and Kara squeezes. She doesn't modulate, doesn't waste energy really focusing on being gentle because human fingers are so very delicate. Diana's eyes go wide briefly at the pressure and then she squeezes back with equal force. So, yes to super strength.

The light changes, the crosswalk signal encouraging them to cross. They walk hand in hand. The change keeps them close together, shoulders occasionally bumping. It's easier to walk slowly like this, harder to keep a brisk pace when Diana's hand is strong and warm in hers. It does something to Kara. Takes the affection that's been smoldering in Kara and sets it alight.

When they get to the next corner, Kara's heart is racing and Diana's cheeks are flushed pink.

"So," Diana says. Kara turns to look at her, and something about being watched makes Diana stall. Her mouth twists into this wry little smile, almost bashful, and - oh. She's so beautiful. Kara's been trying to ignore it but she can't anymore. "I can walk you to your hotel, but - my place is just up this way, if you'd like to come back there?"

Kara's mouth goes dry. Her heart is thrumming, beating so quickly that it feels like she can't quite breathe because go back to my place means Something but also: yes. She does want that. She wants to go back to Diana's place and kiss her and run fingers through her hair and a whole lot more if Diana will have her. "Oh," she says. "I, um -"

She's stammering, tongue-tied because she doesn't do this really at all, doesn't accept invitations from beautiful, kind, definitely not human women. Diana is already taking it as a rejection, shaking her head. "It's fine, I shouldn't have -"

"No, no you - I mean -"

"We should just go back to your -"

Kara closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and finds her voice. "Yes, Diana," she says. Her voice is clear and exactly the right volume to sound firm but not overeager. "I'd like to go back to your place."

Diana's smile is so big and so bright it looks like the sun. Kara's suddenly aware of just how close they're standing. "Oh," Diana says. "I'd like that very much as well."

+

Diana's apartment is beautiful. A little larger than Kara would expect on a curator's salary, but then - she's had a few more years to earn it, Kara's fairly sure. The main room has one side completely windowed, a perfect panoramic view of the city.

(And a balcony, off to one side, with gentle scuff marks in the paint on the railing. The kind someone would make if they were, say, leaping off of it on their way to save the city.)

"Wow," Kara says. "It's beautiful."

She doesn't mean the apartment; she means the view. Diana catches her meaning on the first try. "It is," she says. "I just love being able to see the city."

Kara sighs. "I feel the same about my city, too."

Diana's so close. Kara can feel her, can breathe in the smell of her shampoo and the lingering essence of red wine and garlic bread from dinner. She's just behind Kara and a little to the side, so that when she rests her hand on the small of Kara's back it feels natural. Like something a friend might do. "May I kiss you?" Diana asks.

Kara barely has to think. Her response comes out in a sigh, breathless and feminine: "Yes."

Diana's other hand comes up, tilts Kara's face towards hers. Her hands are so gentle. She caresses Kara's jaw so softly, cradles her face as if she's human. Kara turns and Diana kisses her and it's so easy. It feels so easy, the most natural thing in the world to let her mouth sink into Diana's, to let herself be kissed until her whole body feels electric, desire and excitement buzzing through her from her head to the tips of her toes.

She wishes it could always be this easy.

"You're not human," Diana whispers. Her breath is hot against Kara's mouth and she says it with awe in her voice. It's a compliment, not an accusation.

"Neither are you," Kara whispers back.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Diana asks. "Before we -?"

The end of her sentence hangs in the air, unspoken because she doesn't need to finish it. "Not really," Kara replies. "Unless you want to."

Diana's smile is warm and kind and her hand is so strong at Kara's back, fingers spread so that Kara can feel as held as possible. "I can think of a lot of things that I'd rather be doing instead."

Kara lets her eyes close in relief. Everything is just so messy all the time, a complicated web of things to consider and she just wants to be able to relax. Not forever, not for - she doesn't have any illusions about this being a relationship. But it's been so long and she's so tired and Diana is looking at Kara like she wants to eat her up and maybe, just this once, that's okay. Maybe Kara is allowed to have garlic bread and pasta and good conversation with someone beautiful, and then be loved on and cared for. "Promise me this isn't a trick?" Kara says.

Diana frowns. "How do you mean?"

"You're not - I don't know. Secretly an alien queen, or planning to kidnap me? You don't have a secret space laser trained on the president?" She doesn't mean to say it. Doesn't mean to be honest, almost doesn't want to be but this feels too good to be true.

Diana's expression shifts, from confusion to something like soft recognition and then the tenderest sort of amusement. "No," she says. "No space lasers. And you don't -"

Kara shakes her head. "No! No, no, I'm just - me," she says. "I just want tonight to keep going the way it has been, you know?"

Diana nods. "I do know," she whispers. "I feel the same way."

"I'm going to kiss you again," Kara says. She takes off her glasses; Diana was fogging them up anyway. "Is that alright?"

"Yes," Diana hisses. Anything more she was going to say is swallowed by Kara's mouth. She pulls her close with a little more strength than she means to, feels Diana's front press to hers with a gentle yet satisfying thump. It overbalances Kara, pushes her back and she doesn't fall, not really. She overbalances backward, starts to fall but catches it by floating them both midair when they're inches above the ground, before letting go. It cushions the fall, makes the impact a gentle thump instead of something that knocks the wind out of them both and if Diana were human she might not have noticed.
But Diana's not.

So she laughs into Kara's mouth as they land, a soft giggle that makes Kara feel young and carefree. Kara can't help herself: she giggles in reply. Their laughter breaks the kiss apart, makes them pause for a moment and all Kara can focus on is Diana's eyes, warm and smiling. "Lucky we landed so softly," Diana says.

Kara leans up, captures Diana's mouth in a swift, impertinent kiss. She licks at Diana's lower lip, suckles gently and when she pulls away Diana is gasping. "So lucky," Kara says.

Diana's hands are on either side of Kara's head, bracing to support her weight, and she uses the position to arch her back and press her hips down against Kara's pelvis. The movement is a suggestion, gentle but insistent the way Diana's been all night. It makes Kara's breath catch in her throat. She's suddenly very aware of the throb of desire that's been building between her thighs.
Kara thinks about spreading her legs. More importantly, she thinks about Diana parting them for her. Diana's hands between her thighs, Diana's mouth slick and salty and a thousand other things that Kara is suddenly aching for.

Diana kisses Kara over and over again, her mouth growing wetter, less precise, more - hungry. That's the word. Diana kisses Kara like her own desire is building, like she wants this the way that Kara wants it. Being wanted by Diana feels almost healing: comforting and exciting at the same time.

Kara wraps her arms around Diana's back and pulls her closer. They're touching at the hips and mouth but Diana's chest is hovering above Kara's, a distance apart that's almost painful. Diana acquiesces to Kara's touch. She eases herself down under Kara's hands, until her chest is pressed close to Kara's.

Diana's body feels like it was meant to fit against hers.

Kara sighs with delight. Diana swallows it, answers with her own soft moan and a rolling movement of her hips that makes Kara's desire flare and flicker into something even hotter, even more urgent than it already was. "Diana," Kara whimpers, almost unintelligible against her mouth.

"Come to bed," Diana sighs. Her voice is rushed, her words hurried like she can't quite stop them from tumbling out. "Take me to bed I want to -"

"Yes?"

"Want to show you -"

"Yes." Kara wants all of it, whatever Diana is willing to give.

Kara could move them. She knows she could. As strong as Diana is, Kara's sure she's stronger and it wouldn't be difficult to brace and float them up off of the floor, to zoom them both to the bed. She doesn't want that, though. She wants whatever they're doing now, this dance of pretending but not quite pretending, and so she wriggles her hips up into Diana's, says, "Show me."

Diana breaks the kiss, blinks. Notices, as if for the first time, that Kara's flat on her back on the living room floor and Diana's on top of her and of course Diana has to be the one to get up first. She rises halfway, bends at the waist so that she's looking down at Kara but still straddling her pelvis. Her hair falls into her eyes and she drags one hand through it, raking it lazily into place. She's watching Kara. Taking her in. There's a hunger to her, desire so naked in Diana's expression that Kara has to stop herself from looking away in the face of it.

"So lovely," Diana says. She runs her fingertips across Kara's hairline, caressing from her temple down to her jaw. Kara's eyes flicker shut automatically. She can't help but lean into the touch. "Come to bed with me."

Kara's eyes open at that, just in time for Diana to rise and extend her hand in one motion. Kara takes it.

She allows herself to be pulled up, to be led to the bedroom. It's sparse. The sheets are white, perfectly fluffy and the bed perfectly made, as though they've been lifted straight from a design catalog. There's a little shelf opposite the bed with framed photos, and more than one in the deep sepia of the time before colour photography. So: old, then.

(Kara wonders if this will be what her apartment will feel like, in a hundred years. If she'll still have old photographs, lingering reminders of her family while she stays ageless. Wonders if Diana will still be here when that happens.)

Diana's hands are on her then, plucking at the fabric of Kara's sweater. "May I-" she asks.

Kara nods in the affirmative.

Kara's sweater comes off in one motion of Diana's hands, up and over her head. She's wearing a tank top underneath, plain white and nothing particularly special but Diana looks at it with such delight that Kara feels like it might be.

Diana kisses Kara's throat. Then her collarbone, then a slow path down the bare skin exposed at the neckline of Kara's tank. She's so delicate, so careful with each kiss that it makes Kara feel wobbly. Like she might melt.

Kara doesn't know how to ask for more. Doesn't know how to bring herself to say please kiss my tits instead, not when Diana is kissing her like this. Holding her like this, one arm around Kara's waist and the other fiddling with the hem of Kara's tank top.

As it turns out, she doesn't have to.

Diana pulls away and slips Kara's tank top over her head, unhooks Kara's bra with swiftness and ease that makes it feel like it's all one movement. And then Kara is naked from the waist up and Diana's got half of Kara's left breast in her mouth and it feels so good that Kara nearly falls over. Diana's mouth is warm and soft and Kara's never felt anything quite so nice as whatever she's doing with her tongue right now.

Kara hears herself groan. She's trying to be - whatever. Sexy. Reciprocally interested. But it's taking all of her focus to just stay upright, as Diana switches from one side to the other. Diana's tongue is doing that same thing, soft little motions that Kara feels in her nipple and as an answering ache between her thighs. She want's Diana's tongue there, against the eager throb of her clit, but she's also not sure how she'd survive it.

Her mouth, almost without Kara noticing, whispers Diana's name in a soft, slow sigh.

Diana lifts her head, presses Kara's body close against the soft silk of her blouse and kisses her. When their mouths meet, Diana is smiling. It gives Kara the confidence to reach forward, to start to untuck Diana's blouse and run her fingertips down the front of it.

Diana's shirt feels soft, silky under Kara's touch and there are so many little buttons, hidden under a band down the front. She's trying to be delicate, trying to unbutton carefully but it's so fragile and Diana won't stop kissing Kara's mouth, her throat. Diana gets to the sensitive spot behind Kara's ear just as Kara's dealing with a particularly stubborn button and they both hear the sound of tearing fabric as the button comes off in Kara's hands.

"Oh," Kara says. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I-"

Diana shakes her head. "It's fine, it's fine - I've never understood why women's clothing has to be so delicate."

"Me neither," Kara says. "I go through more shirts. . ."

"Just tear it, Kara I need -"

Kara does. She splits the beautiful, delicate silk of Diana's blouse clean open, lets the remaining buttons clatter to the floor as she reveals Diana's bra and beneath that, the most perfect breasts in the entire universe.

Diana's already helping, shrugging out of her bra and undoing her trousers. In a few moments she's nearly-naked, standing topless in her underwear in front of Kara and she's just - beautiful.. She pulls Kara close, presses their bare chests together and the feeling of it is -

Kara's going to process it. She wants to, but Diana's walking her backward and her knees are hitting the edge of the bed and she has to fall back onto it. She just has to. She's still wearing pants, she realizes, and that suddenly feels like an oversight. "Wait," she says. "Wait, I need to -"

Kara's already fumbling, trying not to rip the zipper out of her trousers as she undoes them, lifts her hips just enough to slip out of them and let them fall to the floor.

"You good?" Diana asks. She's got one eyebrow arched, mouth twisted in something that would be a teasing smile if she didn't look so eager.

"Yeah," Kara huffs. "Yeah, I'm good."

She moves up the bed, settling her legs onto it more fully and Diana follows. She eases herself forward, until her knees are bookending Kara's hips. She pauses there, sits back on her heels. "Hi," she says.

Kara reaches out. She runs her hand down the center of Diana's body, fingertips brushing against her clavicle-sternum-navel and ending at the waistband of her panties. Kara loses her nerve there, flicks at the elastic instead of venturing lower. Diana catches her by the wrist. "Here," she says.

Diana guides Kara's hand in between her legs. She positions Kara's fingers, spreads her legs so that Kara can rest her hand palm-up against Diana's cunt. The heel of her hand is over Diana's clit, her fingertips pressed to the gusset of Diana's underwear and the fabric is damp there from Diana's desire.

Kara watches as Diana's eyes flutter closed. She rocks her hand upward, presses gently against Diana's clit and the sound Diana makes is almost otherworldly. "Good?" she asks. Because she has to ask. Because she knows Diana is strong but she doesn't know exactly how strong and the last thing Kara wants to do is hurt her.

Diana nods her head, yes. She's biting down on her lower lip, and she releases it to whisper, "So good. Let me show you."

Kara assumes that Diana is going to move her hand again, show her what to do. But instead Diana leans forward and slips her hand into Kara's underwear. Kara hears herself whimper, spreads her legs so that Diana's hand can have as much space as it needs to touch her. Diana's fingertips are confident, and it doesn't take long for her to find the place where Kara's slickest and warmest. She dips them there, presses two fingers against Kara's entrance and then draws the wetness forward.

"Like this," Diana says. Then she brushes gentle, slippery fingertips across Kara's clit, and it's all Kara can do to keep herself from throwing Diana through the wall. Her brain shouts keep still and her body obeys, turns all of that pleasure into a loud, whimpering moan that makes Kara blush. "See?"

Kara nods. "Yeah," she says. Her voice is shaky and breathless, but it doesn't matter. What matters is focusing, sliding her hand under the front of Diana's panties and mirroring her touch.

Diana is so warm. Kara knew she would be, but the difference between knowing it and really feeling it is a lot for Kara to process. She mirrors the touch, dips down into Diana's center and finds it liquid-wet and eager for her. When she touches Diana's clit, rubs a soft little circle up and back again, Diana moans with delight. "Like that?" Kara whispers.

Diana nods. "Yes, like -"

And then they don't speak at all. Not with words, anyway. They speak with touch, with fingertips dancing faster and faster in reply to the crescendo of sighs. Diana comes first, a shuddering gush of slick against Kara's palm and a stuttering, high-pitched whimper that leaves her gasping, collapsing forward against Kara's chest.

Kara comes moments after, and she can't tell if it's from the sight of Diana's climax or from the way that she doubles down, the pace of her fingertips against Kara's clit so quick and insistent that Kara can hardly stand it.

"Oh," Kara whispers.

Diana's laugh is deep and full-throated against Kara's skin. "Kara," she sighs back.

"So beautiful," is all Kara can think to say in reply. They breathe there, together. Still touching, neither of them quite willing to move their hands away.

Diana is the one to recover first, and she recovers with a gentle twitch of her fingers, experimental pressure on Kara's clit. "That was -" Diana starts.

"For me, too." Kara finishes.

Diana rubs her fingers in a slow, lazy circle and is rewarded by a gentle twitch of Kara's hips. "Do you want to go again?" she asks.

Kara's cunt flutters, telling her how to answer before she can really think about it. "Again," Kara says. "Yes, very much."

+

Kara wakes to the sun in her eyes.

It's streaming in through the open bedroom window, telling Kara that it's well past the time that she planned to wake up. She rolls over. Her body isn't sore (doesn't get sore), but parts of her are a little stiff and a little tender, reminding her of the night before.

Diana's not there when Kara rolls over, but Kara can hear her in the next room. The gentle noise of her footsteps, the soft purr of well-made drawers being opened and closed: kitchen sounds. Kara smells coffee.

It takes a moment for Kara to find her tank top, tossed on the bedroom floor in a layer above her sweater but underneath her trousers. Her panties are ruined - she has a sense memory of Diana's hand between her legs, tearing fabric - so she slips into her trousers instead.

Diana's in the kitchen. She's wearing an oversized t-shirt and panties, pouring from the kettle into a french press. "Good morning," Diana says. Her voice has the hint of a scratch to it, only audible because Kara's listening for it but she feels a gentle surge of pride at the sound.

"Morning," Kara says.

Diana hands her a glass of water and Kara accepts it, wordlessly. She needs that. They both need that, and there's an empty glass on the counter that says Diana's already started rehydrating. She finishes the whole glass in one gulp and Diana watches her with smiling eyes.

There's a long silence, as both of them try to think of what to say. There's so much that they could say, that's the hard part. Things like so who are you, really or stay a little longer or come back to bed but nothing feels quite right.

Kara's the one who breaks the silence. "You have work," she says. It's not an accusation, just a statement of fact.

Diana nods, equally neutral. "So do you."

Kara does. She has work, and she has her friends and her family and all of National City waiting for her to come home. "Thank you," she says. "For last night."

Diana walks around the kitchen counter, moves to wrap one arm around Kara's waist. It feels so natural. They both fit together so well, and it can't work but for one wild moment Kara wishes it would. "Thank you," Diana says. "Stay for coffee?"

Kara nods. "I'd really like that."

They both speak at the same time.

"But if you're ever in town again -"
"If you're ever in National City sometime -"

Kara laughs first. "I will," she says.

Diana reaches for the coffee pot, a smile in her eyes. "Likewise."