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Moose Lick, northern Saskatchewan.
“This,” Alex declares, “is entirely your fault, Astra.”
The Kryptonian is completely unrepentant. “He was, objectively speaking, the worst leader that this nation has ever known. I had no other choice.”
“Bull,” Alex shoots back. “You kidnapped the President of the United States and left him in Antarctica! On the South Pole! He nearly froze to death!”
“You speak as if that is a bad thing.”
“Astra!” Alex runs her hand through her hair with a sigh, but her heart isn’t in it. “Look, you remember the no killing people, even if they really deserve it thing that Kara keeps talking about? This is one of the times it’s important.”
“I did not kill him,” Astra complains. “Kara found him before he froze.” She frowns at the memory of why she caused the whole mess in the first place. “Besides, that loathsome, oafish waste of oxygen attempted to ban those born in the wrong bodies from using the proper restrooms out of petty spite. He most definitely deserved it.”
“I know that Trump makes it really, really tempting,” Alex concedes, “but you can’t just kidnap the President!”
“It was an involuntary airlift,” Astra protests weakly. “For his own safety, before I was forced to remove his putrescent spine out of concern for the well-being of those affected by his despicable activities.”
“Potato, pot-ah-to,” Alex counters. “I thought we were past this supervillain crap! And now we’re stuck in the wilderness in Saskatchewan for a couple of weeks while J’onn kisses all of the ass in Washington to avoid having to throw you in prison. Do you have any idea how disappointed Kara is?”
That finally brings Astra to her senses; the blonde Kryptonian is not technically Astra’s daughter, but the General certainly loves her like one. “I…may not have thought through all of the consequences of my actions,” she admits.
Some days, Alex just wants to slap Astra on her perfect cheek. “You know what the worst part is?” the agent continues, wanting to drive home the point while she has the chance. “He’s getting impeached anyway. Kara and Winn got hard, rock-solid evidence of Trump taking bribes from the Russian government in exchange for state secrets and policy promises. He’s going to spend the rest of his life in prison for tax fraud, obstruction of justice, and treason. If you’d waited just two days you’d have been fine. Two weeks from you being off probation and allowed to move unsupervised and start your own superhero life if you want, and you get it extended indefinitely because you couldn’t wait 48 hours to ruin Donald Trump’s day?”
Astra at least has the decency to look apologetic at that. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Alex runs her hand through her hair again, and groans. “I’m gonna go out and chop some firewood. We won’t get a TV signal, but Kara got me set with some movies and I’ve got a DVD player we can hook up, so we’ll have a little entertainment; do you mind defrosting the chicken while I get the wood?”
“Of course,” Astra replies, eager to make up for her mistakes.
Alex just shakes her head and heads out, flannel shirt flapping in the breeze as she opens the door. Astra notices from the way that Alex’s jeans hug her buttocks that the agent has been working out again, and she’s only looking because she’s concerned for Alex as a friend over the agent’s most recent injury, and not because Alex looks amazing in tight denim.
The cabin is four rooms with an attached shed—kitchen, bedroom (Astra is a little worried, because even though the bed is massive it’s still only the one), restroom, and a cozy living room with a fireplace and a television. The kitchen has a window above the sink that looks out over the clearing and wood-cutting stump, and Astra glances out as she gets the chicken from the freezer and opens it…
Oh, Rao.
Alex’s flannel shirt’s sleeves are rolled up all the way, and her toned muscles flex as she brings the axe down, neatly splitting a chunk of log. Astra’s fingers fumble with the bag of chicken breasts as Alex’s T-shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the Human’s toned abdomen.
The General forces herself to look away and buzzes up her heat vision to quickly defrost the chicken. Alex is off-limits. Kara’s sister. Becoming involved with her would be Not Good for Kara. Astra needs to…
A thunk of the axe from outside sets a neuron firing in Astra’s brain, and the image of Alex’s biceps flashes across her vision just as she attempts to rapid-defrost the first chicken breast with her heat vision.
Astra squeezes her eyes shut, counts to three to give herself a moment to control herself, and opens her eyes to look down at the smoking bit of charcoal that used to be a piece of frozen chicken as it crumbles into dust in her hands.
Rao. How can she possibly make it through multiple weeks like this?
***
Alex Danvers is not, it must be said, a very happy woman.
Stupid beautiful alien, she thinks, swinging her axe through another chunk of log to work off some of her frustration. Couldn’t wait two days? And then there’s the matter of this cabin, found and rented by Kara via a call to Cat Grant since ‘I can get you a cabin, it’ll be nicer than a DEO safe house and besides you don’t really need a safe house per se anyway’, which has only the one bedroom and one bed.
Not that Alex hasn’t slept on the floor before, but the floor here is hard wood and Alex really wishes Kara had thought a little more about the agent’s back; Alex pulled it not three weeks ago on an operation and she only got her clean bill of health last week, so sleeping on hard wood is not her idea of a good time.
The axe falls again, and Alex rolls her shoulders, testing for any residual pain. Nothing so far.
There’s a flash of heat vision from the cabin, and Alex looks over. Astra smiles awkwardly and waves through the kitchen window; is that a piece of charcoal in her hand? No, I must be seeing things, Alex thinks, probably just a trick of the light. Astra wouldn’t just start burning random things for fun. Even before she was Reformed (tm).
They’re stuck up here for several weeks (exact timetable to be determined), because even if the President of the United States has turned out to be literally paid by the Russian legally-distinct-from-dictator as well as a racist, sexist, homophobic idiot, it’s still legally and probably morally wrong to kidnap him and leave him in Antarctica. Probably morally wrong, anyway. Alex prides herself on her moral compass (except when Kara’s in trouble, anybody who fucks with Alex Danvers’s sister is a dead person walking), but she’s having a lot of trouble when it comes to Donald Trump.
Still, it wouldn’t be so bad if she’d been able to stay in National City, but J’onn wanted his most trusted agent watching the former supervillain “in case she makes another boneheaded decision” and assigned Alex to Astra-minding duty on his way out the door. So now Alex is stuck in a four-room cabin with an alien warlord who’s got the voice of a professional soprano and the body of a fitness model, for however long it takes the Martian Manhunter to appease the vast angry bulk of the US government, and they have to keep a low profile to avoid a major diplomatic and legal incident. Ergo, it’s just them, in a cabin, in the Canadian wilderness miles from anything significant, for an as-yet-undetermined amount of time that’s almost certainly going to be weeks.
Even with all of that, though, Alex might still be able to cope. If, and only if, there were more than one bed. Because Astra really is unfairly gorgeous, and Alex tends to toss and turn a bit in bed, and just the thought of being in her skimpy sleepwear next to an alien General whose nudity taboo (if it ever existed) has taken a massive hit from decades of living in close-quarters bunkers and then more decades in an alien Phantom Zone prison…well, Alex could, hypothetically, make it through one night, if she never had to see Astra again afterwards. Every night for probably-weeks?
Alex rolls her shoulders and winces, already anticipating taking the floor just to save her dignity, or at least what’s left of it. She brings the axe down again, halving another chunk of log. Just throw a few spare blankets on the floor. You’ve had worse. But what if she says something in her sleep, and Astra gets the wrong impression? God damn it, Kara, could you have picked a worse safe house?
Well, she could try sitting under the same blanket as Astra during the movie tonight. Without Kara between them squealing at all the cute stuff this time. Christ.
Alex wonders for a moment if Astra needs any help cooking. A memory of the Kryptonian humming an alien melody while stirring a pot flashes across Alex’s mind, and her next swing slices a sliver of the log’s bark off and thuds into the stump that Alex is using as a base.
“Shit!” Alex lets go of the axe and steps backwards, swearing. “Cool your tits, Danvers,” she mutters to herself. Working herself up like this is only going to screw her over down the road. Just a couple of weeks. Just a couple of weeks. We’ll find a sleeping solution. Everything’s gonna be fine…
She decides that, on the balance, she has enough wood, and rolls down her sleeves, picking up the split logs and heading back to the cabin. A brisk breeze makes her shiver as she sees a little trail of steam coming from the kitchen window, and Alex is grateful that at least they have a fireplace out here. Because Christ, northern Canada is going to have some cold nights.
***
National City.
Lena kisses her way up Kara’s throat, drawing a little moan out of the blonde. “So tell me again about your clever little plan,” the CEO husks as she pulls Kara closer by her collar. It takes the superhero two tries to refocus her brain.
“Uh…uh, right! I got them a cozy little cabin with a fireplace, out in the middle of nowhAAeehhhre…” Lena nibbles on Kara’s ear and the Kryptonian’s brain short-circuits. “Um…and they’ll have to chop firewood and huddle together for warmth, it has electricity and Internet but no central heat, and there’s only one bed. I figured since they’re both such ridiculous saps that shoving them into a romance novel cliché would…oh god…” Kara pulls Lena off of her pulse point. “Stop! You wanted me to explain!”
Lena smirks. “And I’m sure you can focus for long enough to do that, Supergirl.”
“I mean, I can but it’s not like I want to when you’re kissing up my neck,” Kara pouts.
“…fair point,” Lena concedes. “So…”
“Want to just celebrate Trump being impeached?” Kara offers. “And talk about Alex’s love life later?”
Lena chuckles as she unsnaps her bra, and Kara’s mouth goes dry. “You drive a hard bargain, Supergirl. But I…”
Kara’s phone rings. Both women close their eyes and groan. “Maybe it’ll…” Kara begins hopefully, but it rings again. She sighs and rolls over to get it, Lena clambering off of her. “Hello?”
She listens for a moment, then groans. “Can’t it wait? Yes, I’m busy…can’t Congress like take a break? Seriously? OK…Ok, OK…yeah, I’ll be there…I don’t know, three hours? Fine.” She shuts her phone with a groan. “I’m supposed to be testifying in front of Congress soon. Which they wanted last-minute.” Her tone makes it clear that she’d much rather be doing something else, or at the moment someone else.
Lena gives her girlfriend a peck on the cheek. “Go get ‘em, Supergirl.”
“Alright. Hey, look, I’m really sorry about this, I will make it up to you, I promise…”
“Kara. It’s a Thursday.” The blonde’s face is blank. “I don’t work on weekends?” Kara still looks confused. Lena sighs and offers a seductive look. “Come back tomorrow night and I’ll be a little present for you.”
“Don’t you mean have a…” Kara’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh! Right! I’ll, uh, fly fast…really fast. Just…I won’t be late!”
She nearly breaks the window on her way out, but catches herself just in time, and slips out with another apology. Lena chuckles, knowing that her superpowered girlfriend can hear her. “Hurry back,” Lena calls, shaking her head as she heads to her computer. She’s a resourceful woman, after all, she can deal with a schedule SNAFU.
Not resourceful enough, however, to keep her estranged mother out of her business, it seems. It’s at the top of Lena’s email; “Re:This Week’s Events”. From Lillian Luthor herself.
Lena’s lips compress into a thin line. This had better not be about what she thinks. She clicks on the email.
It is, in fact, about what she thinks. And that is enough to ruin Lena’s weekend, something that not even Congress could do.
***
Canada.
Alex settles on the couch (because of course they have only shitty hard wood chairs) next to Astra, who generously shares the heavy down comforter with the Human. “So,” she says, trying to keep as much under the blanket as possible without actually touching Astra, “what movie do you want to watch?”
Astra shrugs, curled up on her side of the couch, and Alex does want to reach out and hug her but knows that that would go south so quickly what with Alex’s annoying crush. “I have a list of recommendations from Kara. She said that we could use her Netflix as a guide, and she packed all of her favorites?”
“Alright, what’s on the list?”
“Well…” Astra snakes an arm out from under the comforter to scroll very gingerly through her 16th smartphone this month. Applying proper pressure is something that she’s still working on, and she’s now unofficially banned from playing Fruit Ninja. “First on the list is Miss Congeniality?”
“A rom-com, really?”
“I merely have the list of recommendations, what is it about?”
“A secret agent who has to be a supermodel to stop some evil plot. I think. I hope you don’t mind but I’m not really in the mood for that. What else did Kara suggest?”
“She’s the Man?”
“That’s the one based on Twelfth Night, I think.” At Astra’s look, Alex elaborates; “Kara made me watch a marathon of those damn things when she was getting over an ex. What else is there?”
“The Proposal?”
“Oh god no, no, that one has bad memories.” Astra gives Alex another look, but the Human shakes her head. “Nope! Nope, not doing that. Not after Kara told me…nope!”
“Why, what is the subject matter?”
Alex shakes her head even more vigorously. “Just…no. Kara likes that one because it feeds one of her fantasies with Lena, don’t…just don’t, I can’t watch it now. Are there any movies on this list that aren’t rom-coms?”
“Monte Carlo?”
“Rom-com.”
“Love, actually?”
“Rom-com. Should be obvious from the title.”
“The Shape of Water ‘when it comes out on Netflix’?”
“That one’s still in theaters. It’s about a woman who wants to screw a fish-man.” Alex shrugs. “To each their own—I don’t mind aliens at all, but gills are a bit of a turn-off for me.”
“You…don’t mind aliens?” Astra is careful to phrase the question neutrally.
“I…oh, no, I like aliens just like any other people. And dislike the same. It all depends on the person. I’m not xenophobic, and I don’t like have a weird alien-objectifying thing or anything I just don’t like gills, I mean I like women with like regular, I mean, with smooth necks like Humans have, and with gills I’d be worried about accidentally poking something sensitive the wrong way…” Alex trails off into red-cheeked silence. “…can we just forget the last minute happened?”
Astra nods wordlessly, and semi-consciously brushes her lush curls away from her neck. Just because. Yes. “Erm. How about we just watch the next Star Wars?”
“You’re going to regret it,” Alex warns.
“Impossible. Nothing could be more damaging to such a work of art than the Ewoks. Besides, The Phantom Menace is an intriguing title. What is the worst that could happen?”
***
It turns out, in fact, that there is a lot that could happen. Astra is still fuming as she heads into the shower, and Alex restrains herself from saying I told you so. Everybody has that one time when they realize that Star Wars has gone to shit, and this is Astra’s, and she needs support, not smugness.
The door to the bathroom shuts, and Alex blinks, realizing that she’s been staring at Astra’s retreating form. Again. Damn it, Danvers.
She can’t find any spare cushions; looks like the couch is her best bet, then. Alex sets her jaw. It’s not great, but Astra can take the…massive, easy-for-two-people-to-fit…very soft-looking…equipped-with-multiple-down-comforters bed…
Oh, Kara is going to hear words about this when they’re allowed back in the States.
Alex gets the cheap portable electric heater that Kara recommended they buy for the trip up and running, and gets her shower supplies ready…just in time for Astra to emerge from the bathroom, towel over her shoulder, unashamedly naked.
When her brain finishes processing the expanse of toned muscle, corded legs, rippling abs, and faint scars that just accentuate the whole gorgeous picture, Alex remembers whose ridiculously beautiful body she’s drooling at and yelps, turning away and shielding her eyes as her cheeks go deep crimson. “Astra! Jesus, don’t you have a robe?”
“Oh! My apologies, I should have considered…I have Kara’s apartment mostly to myself now that she is in a relationship, I normally…I will just, er, dress rapidly, then…”
“Sure, yeah, no rush, in your own time…” Alex tries to control herself. Jesus. She really needs to control this crush before it becomes more. Just…hold it together. Just a couple of weeks.
“Um, when you’re, y’know, dressed, we need to decide who gets the bed,” Alex says, trying to distract herself from the thought of what that soft rustling of clothing means, the image of soft pyjamas slipping over Astra’s lean form…focus! “I can take the couch, I guess.”
“Out there? Alone, without the heater? Alexandra, no, I cannot allow it.”
“Well I’m not putting you out there, you deserve better…”
“Can we not…no, that is a foolish idea.”
“Can’t we what?” She shouldn’t have asked that, she really shouldn’t…
“No, it was a foolish idea, you need not bother yourself…” Astra trails off. “But I see no other way.”
“You mean sharing the bed?”
“Yes,” Astra admits, softly, nervously. “I…I can manage that. I hope.”
“Yeah.” Alex gulps, trying to slow her heartbeat. She has a type, she’s discovered, and it’s awkward, slightly damaged alien warlords who look good in tight spandex. “Yeah, I can do that too.” If she’s knocked out. If she’s drunk enough to forget her own name. “We should, uh, sleep with our backs to each other. For, uh, respectability. And safety.”
“Yes. That would…that would be acceptable.” Astra sounds just as nervous and hesitant as Alex feels.
“I’m, uh, gonna go get a quick shower. Just, um…yeah. Pick a side and make yourself at home.”
Alex bolts for the bathroom before her roommate can protest.
***
Astra hears a yelp and a hiss of shit that’s cold! from Alex and worries for a moment that she’s used all of the hot water, but a quick scan through the floor shows that the hot water tank is still half-full. “Alexandra?” she calls out. “There is still hot water available!”
“Not the point!”
Astra worries about Alex, sometimes. Well, a lot of the time. The Human is Kara’s sister in all but blood, not that that matters on this primitive world, and Alex does not take care of herself as much as Astra thinks that she should.
Just last month, for example, Alex came back from a mission with a nine-inch slash down her arm and had to get multiple stitches while Astra literally vibrated with perfectly justified and entirely ordinary worry for her Human—wait, no, Astra needs to stop thinking that way, Alex is not hers, and treating or thinking of her that way is wrong—three rooms away.
Three weeks ago, Alex pulled her back attempting to wrestle a Tamaranean war criminal bare-handed, and had a massive argument with Astra when the latter flew to Alex’s apartment to cool dinner for Alex and tuck her in to bed (because apparently a perfectly normal and entirely justified concern for the health of the extremely attractive woman who is 100% just Astra’s colleague and not anything more, despite the increasingly difficult time Astra is having with thoughts of Alex and cuddling with her, is “treating me like an invalid” and “totally unnecessary”) before Alex managed to re-injure her back and grudgingly acquiesced to Astra’s demand that she be allowed to cook Alex’s dinner for her and then tuck the Human into bed.
Next to this blatant lack of care for her own health, Astra doesn’t really see why Alex is so upset about Astra’s temporary involuntary relocation of Donald Trump.
Besides, Trump deserved it, even Alex admits that.
Astra realizes that she’s staring at Alex through the wall as she showers, and turns away. Yes, Astra’s vision only shows Alex’s bones through the wall, but still, it feels rather intrusive. And she’s trying so very hard to be Good (tm) now that she’s Reformed (tm), and Kara had been Very Displeased when she heard about Astra’s compulsive desire to touch Alex when Astra had first had Alex at her mercy.
Look, I know that we’re a very tactile species, Kara had said. But stroking her cheek when she’s on the ground with a poison spine in her leg is just…well, it seems a bit creepy, you know?
Astra had nodded in silence. She had known, after all, that it was unusual the moment she had stroked the Human’s cheek, and the bizarre compulsion she’d had was irrelevant. Astra is an adult, she should be in more control of herself.
I want to hug a LOT of people, Kara had continued. All the time. I want to hug Ms. Grant when her JustNoMom comes by CatCo, I want to hug J’onn basically every time anything involving Mars comes up—Rao, I don’t need to tell you, it’s how we were on Krypton. Astra had nodded along. It’s just…it’s not OK here. Especially outside of the family. I know it’s weird but it’s the way things are.
Astra had agreed. It was, after all, her fault for spending the better part of a local decade just ignoring Human culture as irrelevant and primitive (and now that she knows just how diverse “Human culture” is, she’s starting to wonder if she might have had things backwards). Her fault for…
Alex walks out, wrapped in a towel. Astra has to wrench her eyes away from the corded muscle of Alex’s arms and the toned legs sticking out from under the towel. “I’m sorry,” is the first thing that she says.
“For what?” Alex asks in confusion.
“For being inappropriately forward when we first…er, when the Hellgrammite kidnapped you. I have since learned a great deal about local society and realize that I was out of line.”
“Huh? Oh.” Alex chuckles. “Astra, I got used to being glomped by a super-strong alien a long time ago, stroking my cheek is, like, the last thing I worry about in the same room as a Kryptonian. Hell, I eventually told Kara she could hug me whenever she needed. Ended up studying for the SATs with her practically glued to my back.” Alex snorts with laughter again at the memory. “That said, I appreciate the apology. And hey! It’s good that you understand now why some might consider that odd or even creepy.”
Astra doesn’t deserve the people in her life, Alex least of all. She turns her head and Alex dresses rapidly. “See?” the Human continues. “You recognize the nudity taboo and respect it. Just learn how we do things and it’ll be alright.” Her voice is muffled for a moment, and Astra assumes that a shirt is being pulled on. “And yeah, that does include please do not kidnap the President. Just so we’re clear.”
Astra feels her face flush even deeper red. “I see.”
“And yeah, he sucks.” The bed shifts as Alex sits down, and Astra turns, to see the Human in a long-sleeved shirt of some soft material and penguin-print pants. “But we have to deal with him the right way, or it sets a really bad precedent. J’onn’s had to remind me and Kara about that, even, I totally understand the temptation…uh…Astra, my eyes are up here.”
Astra drags her gaze from Alex’s chest (and she’s never understood before why some Human women wear a karatam to bed before, but holy Rao she can see Alex’s nipples poking into the material and she promised herself she’d be better but that sleep shirt is just tight enough to be fascinating and does Astra look like this? Oh Rao, she’s wearing a karatam all the time now, no matter what Kara says), sees the Human’s sympathetic gaze, and buries her face in her hands.
Alex clears her throat. “If it’s any consolation, you’re pretty distracting yourself. Uh, sorry for ogling you earlier.”
“I apologize,” Astra half-whimpers. “I truly did not intend…”
“It’s fine. Hell, it’s honestly a bit of a confidence boost, coming from you.”
Astra looks up, confused. “But I thought that it was considered disconcerting by most Human women?”
Alex blushes. “Uh. Well, yeah, normally. But, well, I mean, you’re pretty, and I like, I mean, you’re really nice, now that you’re not being a supervillain, and when you’re not looking down on Human society, but I’m not hurt, I mean if I look good to you I guess it feels good, and…and I’m just gonna stop talking now,” she finishes lamely.
“I like you as well, Alexandra,” Astra offers, trying to end the awkward conversation. Alex stammers and flushes deeper. “Erm, which side of the bed would you prefer?”
“Uh, well, um, I don’t care I guess? I’ll take this side and you take that one?”
“Yes! Excellent.” Astra pulls herself under the covers with lightning speed, then looks over to the fire. “Should I blow that out?”
“No, leave it, we need the warmth.” Alex pulls the covers over herself, trying to stick to the edge of the bed. “Believe me, I’m gonna have words with Kara about this arrangement.”
“I am not upset,” Astra notes, “so long as I am here with you.”
Alex waits a terrifyingly long time to respond. “Yeah,” she finally says, slowly. “And…I guess having you here makes it better on my end, too.”
Neither woman manages to calm themselves enough to actually sleep for over an hour. And when they wake, somehow Alex has rolled over in bed and Astra is nuzzling into her shoulder with Alex’s arms held protectively around the Kryptonian, their legs intertwined.
Alex takes another cold shower and Astra superspeeds outside to dive into a frigid mountain-fed stream before they’re able to begin their day, and even then they barely look at each other until lunch.
It’s going to be a long couple of weeks.
***
Seattle, Washington.
Natalie Reyes adjusts her daughter’s wig. “Just hold still, Gabriella,” she urges, and she feels a pang of pride as her little girl straightens, jaw set. “That’s it, just let me…” she reaches out to right the wig, which has fallen off-center, “there!” Natalie pulls out her phone, maneuvering over the cracks on the screen to activate the photo app. “Who’s a big, beautiful girl, sweetheart?”
“I am!”
“That’s it! Say cheese!”
“Cheeeeeese!” Natalie’s daughter beams. Natalie takes three quick pictures, and has to wipe a tear from her eye. Gabriella’s growing up so fast.
“Alright, sweetie, now who wants to…” Natalie’s phone buzzes as she’s about to tuck it away. She groans, looking down… “Oh, no, not now, come on…”
“Mama?”
“Stay here, Gabby, just play with Barbie for a minute, OK?” Natalie stands, pulling the phone to her ear as she steps around the counter into her “kitchen”, such as it is. “Hello?”
“September. You are needed.” It’s the Doctor, the woman who changed Natalie, made her into what she now is. Her voice is colder than liquid nitrogen.
“But I have the weekend off for the first time in months!” Natalie protests. “Please, can’t one of the others do it? I haven’t seen my daughter in…”
“Your concern for your daughter is commendable,” the woman on the other end interrupts. “As a mother myself, well, I sympathize. But CADMUS has need of you, and your daughter’s health requires your compliance.”
“You can’t threaten that!” Natalie hisses. “I let you people put that metal in me, you have to keep up your end of the bargain! Her treatments…”
“We will hold up what we wish. You have an assignment, September. You are expected to carry it out . The standard fee will be delivered upon completion of the mission. Details will be sent via email.”
The voice cuts out, leaving only a dial tone. Natalie’s hand slowly falls from her ear, the fingers clenching. That god-damned…Gabriella needs the CADMUS money, Natalie needs the health insurance and the money for her daughter’s chemotherapy, the Doctor knows how bad the leukemia was, met Natalie personally as the young mother sobbed over her dying daughter knowing that she couldn’t pay an uncaring corporation’s outlandish demands…
Natalie’s phone snaps as her fingers crush straight through it. Shit!
“Mama?” Gabriella looks up at her, and Natalie feels a stab of fear. No! She can’t know, can’t know what I do. A little girl shouldn’t know that her mother murders people for a shadowy domestic terrorist group. Shouldn’t know what Natalie’s had to do, what Natalie’s seen.
“How’d you like to spend the weekend with Abuela, sweetie?” Natalie offers, smiling apologetically at her little girl. Gabriella looks worried; she’s too smart, more than Natalie deserves, and she can see through the former waitress’s bluff.
“But Mama, you’re here,” the girl complains. “You’re never here and now you are!”
“I know, I know, and Mama’s really sorry,” Natalie replies, hating herself more with every word. “But Mama’s got to go to work, the Doctor needs me.”
“She’s mean!” Gabriella shouts. “She always needs you, all the time!”
Natalie knows, all too well, how much the hateful old woman takes from her. Weeks upon weeks away from her daughter, dark nights with the other eleven hunting through old LexCorp—L-Corp now, thanks to that wonderful new CEO of theirs—bunkers for tech, dead security guards and blood on her hands, June sneering at her for trying to avoid killing, CADMUS doesn’t care if a few flunkies live or die, we’re fighting for Humanity, some collateral damage is justified, every other bullshit platitude June and the Doctor spout when she begs to be let go…
She hates herself for it, these days. And as she checks her email, the encrypted account that the CADMUS people provided, that night, she hates herself more for still feeling fear of death.
Because no matter how much Natalie wishes she were dead, if she dies, she knows that CADMUS won’t hesitate to drop her daughter’s chemotherapy bill in the ditch.
***
Saskatchewan. Two days later.
“You’re sure?” Alex hisses into her phone, holding her basket close in Moose Lick’s one general store.
“Positive,” Lena Luthor replies. “I called Kara, but she doesn’t want to risk CADMUS following her to you.”
“Your mother?”
“She’s high-placed in CADMUS, I’m certain of it. Kara’s safe, but Alex, you need to keep watch; they have people everywhere.”
“Got it. Thanks for the warning, Lena.”
“What else could I do? Kara’s worried, alright, so please stay safe.”
“We will.” Alex hangs up, cursing under her breath. She has to finish quickly; Astra’s going to be getting restless holed up in the cabin, and Alex still needs to grab the marshmallows…
“Gah!”
“Ow!” Alex collides full-speed with someone else, and falls flat on her ass, the other woman yelping as she crashes into a shelf.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” the other woman gasps with an American accent. Alex rolls up with a groan. “Here, let me help…”
“Thanks,” Alex manages as she pulls herself to her feet, the woman—a slim, pretty brunette of Latin heritage with toned, muscular arms—picking up her groceries and putting them back into Alex’s basket. “Sorry about that, must’ve turned the corner without looking.”
“Not a problem, it happens all the time, all my fault anyway.” The woman stands, handing Alex back the basket with a smile. “I’m September, I’m new in town.”
“Alex, I’m renting a cabin near here.”
“Just Alex?”
Alex groans and rolls her eyes. “Short for Alexandra. Sorry, I don’t have time to chat, I have to hurry.”
“Oh, no! I’m sorry, you should get back to…whatever you have to do.”
“Yeah, sorry, I have a friend waiting for me.”
“A friend? You mean Astra In-Ze?”
Alex freezes. She turns, slowly, her hand reaching back for her…
September holds up Alex’s gun with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I need you to come with me, Agent Danvers.”
“Like hell I will.” Alex throws the groceries into September’s face and ducks backwards, rolling back into a crouch with her right pulling out her insurance policy, the holdout alien pistol hidden in her boot. She brings it up…
September moves with inhuman speed, and Alex barely gets a shot off before the woman is on her; the concussion knocks September back thirty feet, clear out the front doors.
“Stay down!” Alex shouts as the storekeeper screams in terror. “Stay down, I’m with the FBI!”
September’s already getting up. “I’m really sorry about this, Agent Danvers!” she shouts. “But CADMUS needs you to come with me.” Alex picks her way over the shattered doors, gun cocked. “That gun packs a punch, but you can’t kill me, Agent Danvers.”
“I don’t have to,” Alex snaps, and pulls the trigger again.
September’s already moving, but her backflip’s not tight enough, and Alex’s gun knocks her flat again. The woman again gets up from a shot that can take down an adult Khund with two hits, her blouse torn but chest intact—a shot at that range should’ve busted one of her ribs at least.
“Please just make this easy,” September begs, and she holds her arms out at a downwards angle, her forearms flexing…
Foot-long sword-like blades of some silvery metal slide from her arms, one from each, between the middle and ring fingers. Alex isn’t sure, but it looks like Thanagarian Nth metal, an alien alloy she’s seen but not gotten to play with. Alex pulls the trigger again but September brings her arms up, the blades crossing in front of her with inhuman speed and grace; the blast sends the CADMUS agent stumbling backwards but she keeps her feet, then rolls backwards as Alex fires again, trying to keep September down long enough to get to her car.
“What the fuck is CADMUS playing at?” Alex mutters to herself as September rolls behind a fire hydrant, sword blades flashing in the light. “Supersoldiers with sword implants now?" Alex has to get out of here, Astra’s alone up in the cabin and CADMUS will have Green K…
September’s on her feet, and kicks off of the fire hydrant into the air in a perfectly-executed midair roll, Alex’s shot going under her and fracturing a brick wall. The supersoldier sprints with lightning speed, and Alex ducks sideways while squeezing off another shot, September’s left arm-blade slicing inches from Alex’s left knee. She’s trying to immobilize me! Alex stumbles backwards, off-balance, falling on her back, and September turns on her toes like a ballerina, impossibly graceful as she brings the blades down to pin Alex’s shoulders like a bug on a card…
Alex’s shot slams into September’s gut at full power, enough to knock a rampaging bull elephant flat instantly. The supersoldier’s lifted a good ten feet into the air, crashing into the ground in a heap. Alex gasps for breath, rolling over and hauling herself to her feet. A crowd’s already gathering, people have their cellphones out—Alex can’t cover this up alone, she needs to call J’onn. And keep her face down in the meantime.
September groans as Alex gets the DEO handcuffs, the kind that can hold a raging Branx, from her trunk. The supersoldier tries to get her arms under her, the blades retracted, but Alex is on her, sitting on her back and cuffing her arms together behind her in seconds.
A police siren wails, getting closer. Someone grabs Alex’s shoulder as September groans again beneath her. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Securing this woman who tried to kill me before the cops get here and screw everything up,” Alex replies, hauling September up and half-carrying the semiconscious woman to her car. The man who interrupted her doesn’t look pacified.
“You need to wait for the police, that fight you two ladies just had destroyed half of Choolkit Charlie’s and…”
Alex shows the man her alien gun. “Sir, this woman has superhuman strength and razor blades up her arms. The local police aren’t equipped to handle her. My people are. I’m getting her the Hell out of this populated area, and calling for backup.”
The man still doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t know how you Americans usually operate, but you can’t just come here and drag your super-fights around a peaceful country, then ‘disappear’ people to some black site…”
Much as Alex agrees, she really doesn’t have the time for this, and resorts to the threat, pointing the gun at the man muzzle-first. “I really don’t have time for this.” September manages to sort of get her feet, Alex is running out of time. “I have a priority-one VIP that I’m tasked with guarding, and the people who sent this woman are after her. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to prevent a kidnapping and a diplomatic incident.” She shoves September into her car, vaults over the hood and ducks in the driver’s side door. She can see the police lights now, it’s now or never.
I’m definitely putting this on the docket when we bring CADMUS down, Alex thinks to herself, and guns the engine.
***
“I don’t suppose you could let me go?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t throw you in the trunk,” Alex snaps. September winces.
“I really am sorry,” the supersoldier says again. “I don’t like doing this, CADMUS’s ideology is toxic and awful…”
“Then why do you obey them?”
“They own me,” September spits, a bit of bitterness in her tone. “My daughter, Gabriella. She has cancer, the CADMUS people pay for her chemo. I was a waitress before this, I can’t afford the chemo without insurance, I can barely keep a roof over our heads much less insurance, and since she’s got a pre-existing condition and Trump stripped the pre-existing condition protections from Obamacare, the rates I’d be paying would be more than rent, utilities, and bus pass combined. They paid for her chemo and in return, they own me. I do what the Doctor, their leader, wants, any time she wants me. If I run, if I go to the cops, they let my daughter die.”
“Did you try Kickstarter?”
September scoffs. “I don’t know anyone rich enough to support us that way. I’d never get off the ground.”
“I assume her dad’s not in the picture?”
“The sperm donor?” September snarls the word. “That lousy hijo de puta ran away with a Hooters girl when Gabriella was twelve days old. He can rot for all I care.”
Alex grips the steering wheel tight as she pulls a tight corner. “How many of you are there, and how many are going after Astra?”
“Twelve overall, that’s why I have the codename—months of the year. The doctor thought that was funny. Three on this mission. We all have about the same capabilities, superhuman physical abilities and senses—something called “retroviral genetic enhancement”, plus a metal skeleton and the implants, the arm-blades. August and June are the others. I don’t know their real names, we use codenames only. June has military training, I know that much, I don’t know about August. Some of the others are like me, though, we’re just stuck in it. I mean we’re not innocent, we hurt people, they make us do that sometimes.” September shivers. “June likes ordering me to stab people. But we didn’t want this.”
“How long’s this been going on?”
“Close to a year now.” September makes a face. “I want out, I really do. But they own me.”
Alex chews her lip, turning her headlights on as they go through a stretch of thick pine forest. September sounds legitimate. But can she be trusted?
“Let me make a call.”
Fortunately, Alex’s phone gets reception out here, thanks to DEO tech adapted by Winn from a Tamaranean coms unit. “Agent Danvers?” Agent Vasquez says in surprise as she answers. “What’s going on?”
“I need you to look up someone for me.” Alex uses one hand to turn the camera towards September, who smiles weakly. “I want everything on her using face rec.”
“You got a name, Danvers?”
“Natalie Reyes,” September speaks up. “I live in Seattle, Washington.”
“She says she has a daughter named Gabriella. Did J’onn get my text?”
“I passed it on to him. Here we go. Natalie Isabella Reyes, age thirty, unemployed, formerly waitress. Lives in Seattle, one daughter, Gabriella Reyes. The daughter has acute lymphocytic leukemia, they don’t have insurance but somehow she’s paying for chemo, in remission for six months.”
“CADMUS pays for her chemo,” Natalie explains. “Like I said, that’s how they own me.”
“Ms. Reyes ambushed me when I was in town getting food,” Alex explains. “I need Supergirl or Director J’onzz up here ASAP, and a full strike team, CADMUS has more people up here.”
“No can do, Danvers. Supergirl’s dealing with a CADMUS bomb threat and the Director can’t get out of the Senate committee.”
“Then just send the strike team, they’re going after Astra!”
“Got it. Sending Delta Squad now.”
“They won’t get here in time,” Reyes warns.
“I know,” Alex growls. She chews her lip. “Vasquez, can we pay for the girl’s chemo?”
“Uh, yeah, it’d fit into the budget…why do you ask?”
“Ms. Reyes, if you’ll help me save Astra, then we’ll pay for your daughter’s chemo. And we’ll pay for your relocation and protection.”
“You would?” Reyes looks skeptical. “Who are you people, anyway?”
“I’m with the US government. Trust me, we can do it.”
***
Astra hears the car coming up the road, but assumes despite the odd sound of the engine that it’s just Alex having some engine trouble.
This is her first mistake.
Her second is opening the door in a Henley and sweatpants when she hears two sets of boots on the dirt outside instead of one.
Two women with guns are there, having just stepped out of an unmarked black van, one a tall, muscular redhead with green eyes and a cruel smirk, the other a slim, hesitant blonde with dark brown eyes. They’re wearing black tactical outfits, much like the DEO style.
“What is the matter?” Astra asks with a frown. “Is Kara…”
The red-haired woman shoots her, and Astra feels a sharp sting and then liquid painpainpain invades her bloodstream. Her hands shake as she crumples to her knees, her breath coming in gasps as she remembers the pain, General Lane shouting questions at her his man punching her the Kryptonite in her blood burning burning oh Rao the pain make it stop please dear Rao just make it stop…
“Damn, that stuff does work fast,” the redhead chuckles. Astra tries to stand, swinging a punch at her attacker (her heat vision isn’t responding), but the redhead kicks her in the chest, and the Kryptonian goes flying back into the cabin. The women follow, and Astra fights the urge to curl up, to hide, she has to run, has to hide, smaller target, stay out of sight, hurts so much, Lane sneering as he looks down at her, Alex’s horrified expression and Kara’s desperate cries as the Humans fill Astra with pure liquid agony…
Her first punch misses the redhead, then her arms are jerked behind her back, and she screams, thrashing against the hold, and the woman curses, but then another jab hits Astra’s neck and she wails in agony as more liquid Kryptonite hits her blood.
“Bitch struggles like a fuckin’ gator, don’t she?” The redhead chuckles again. “Man, August, I ain’t had this much fun since Iraq. Chuck and Megan taught me a lot in that fucking sand-monkey pit, I ever tell you ‘bout that?”
“No, June, ma’am,” the other replies, voice shaking just a bit.
“Lose that stammer, soldier, CADMUS needs you to be certain.” The woman punches Astra in the ribs. “Stop squirming, xeno scum! Anyway, I was on prison duty, boring shit, so Chuck, the Sergeant I reported to, nice guy, the Feds court-martialed him but we stayed in touch, Chuck taught me how to have a little fun with the detainees. You should’ve seen them beg, yanno? I had a leash my Ma packed by mistake, somehow got out to me with my kit, so I figured, put that on the detainees when we walked ‘em if they earned toilet time, fucking sand rats are basically dogs anyway. Good fun, plus it made the sand monkeys wanna talk, though we never did get any useful intel outta them, just whining about how much it hurt.”
Astra tries to throw June off again, but she grabs Astra by the hair and slams the Kryptonian face-first into the ground. With the Kryptonite in her system, Astra is no stronger than a Human, and she wails again as her nose is crushed, blood spurting across her face. “Aw, shut the fuck up, you xeno bitch, nobody wants to hear your shit. August, get the van ready, and check up on September, I’ll tell the Doctor we have the package in tow.”
“I…yes, ma’am.” If Astra could care anymore she’d have picked up on the defeat in August’s voice.
“Move, xeno,” June snarls, hauling Astra up by her arms, and Astra screams in pain as her right is nearly dislocated behind her. “God, shut up! Fucking wimpy bitch…”
There’s the sound of a car on the dirt road, and Astra’s captor throws Astra into the back of the van, climbing in after her. “That should be September—you got her yet, August?”
“She’s not answering her phone!”
“Then get out and stand fucking guard! God, do I have to do everything myself around here?” Astra is hauled up into a chair, roughly. “Shut the fuck up!” June slaps the hiccupping Astra in the face, drawing another sob.
The car pulls up, and June jumps out of the van. Astra sobs, but this time it’s in relief. Alex is already getting out of the car, a brown-haired woman with darker skin emerging from the other side.
“September!” June shouts. “What the fuck is this? You let the target drive you?”
“Shut up,” Alex snarls, and she pulls out her alien stun gun.
June dodges with lightning speed, but the glancing hit still sends her reeling. “August! Kill September, I’ll get the agent!”
“No!” Astra screams, and Alex starts backpedaling as gleaming metal blades emerge from June’s arms.
Alex shoots again, but June’s arms come up, the blades catching the shot, then she lunges, and Alex’s blood wets her flannel coat, the Human just a shade too slow on the dodge. June moves with inhuman speed and power, not as impossibly fast or strong as a full-strength Kryptonian but far more so than Alex. Astra strains desperately against her bonds—she must break free, she has to, even with the liquid agony still coursing through her veins she has to do something…
The one called September is saying something, but Astra doesn’t hear it. June slashes at Alex, who falls backwards, her shirt torn, and the redhead is snarling viciously, her other arm coming up to gut Astra’s mate like a…
Alex kicks June in the gut, and the supersoldier wheezes, folding like a towel as her blade goes wide to dig into the ground. Alex reaches to her side, and a blade flashes, and June screams in pain.
The supersoldier rolls off of Alex, the knife embedded in her eye and blood streaming down her face, and the Human hauls herself to her feet, pulling off three more shots straight into June’s gut. The redhead shudders, then goes still.
The woman called September clambers into the van, hissing in sympathy at the bleeding, shuddering Astra. “Jesus, I’m so sorry…” Blades slide out of her arms, and she slips behind Astra; there’s a shearing sound and Astra is free.
Astra stumbles forwards, nearly falling to the dirt outside before Alex sprints up to grab her, supporting the crying Kryptonian with both hands. “Use my cuffs on June. What about the other one?”
“I convinced her to turn,” September replies. “She’s like me.”
“I’m only doing this for my brother,” August says, shame in her tone. “They have some medicine that’s working for his ALS. The doctors gave him two years to live, said there was no cure, but CADMUS found something that worked.”
“And let me guess, it came with strings?” August makes a confirming sound, and Alex sighs. “We’ll figure something out, I promise. I know L-Corp’s got something based on alien tech in clinical trials, there’s still hope.” She kisses Astra’s forehead as the older woman clutches her. “Ssshhh, it’s OK, Astra, I’m here.” She leans down again, one hand brushing hair out of the way as she presses her lips to Astra’s forehead again. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. We’re going to get you cleaned up and re-set your nose and then we’re going to fly you back to the States and put you under a nice sun bed, no matter what Congress thinks, OK? It’s all going to be alright.” She leans down again, but this time Astra leans up to meet her.
Their lips meet.
After about ten seconds August coughs awkwardly. Alex pulls back, blushing fiercely, but Astra slips a hand behind her head. She’s stopped shaking, and the blood flow from her nose is starting to peter off, though some of it is on Alex’s face and lip.
“Would you do that again?” Astra murmurs. “I…I think that I need you, to hold you, and be yours, just for now…”
Alex smiles, and it’s the warmest, kindest thing Astra’s ever seen. “Of course. I’m here for whatever you need.”
Astra pulls herself up to her full height, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Alex’s as her heart rate approaches its resting levels. “You are so brave,” she whispers. “I…I wish I could be more like you. I faltered, when they used Kryptonite on me, I remembered…”
“Sshhh,” Alex murmurs as Astra’s breathing hitches. “General Lane’s finished. His career’s on life support and Lucy’s on first-name terms with the Secretary of Defense. She’s gotten her father in a lot of trouble for torturing you, and she’s made sure that he can never touch you again. You’re so strong, Astra, standing up to a couple of supersoldiers where I only beat one of them the first time by sheer luck, even after they shot you with Kryptonite…” She pauses, running a hand over Astra’s cheek. “How much?”
“June hit her with two hypodermics, one dart with 5 CCs of liquid and then a syringe of 25,” August reports. “That’s supposed to be enough to turn Superman into a regular guy.”
“Oh my god,” Alex whispers. She squeezes Astra gently, and Astra can see tears start to spill out of her eyes. “You kept fighting them through that? With the memories that Kryptonite brings you? Oh, Astra, you’re so strong, I love you…um…”
Astra’s eyes widen. “Say that again,” she begs.
“I love you?” Alex says hesitantly.
Astra smiles. “I like that,” she admits. “I love you too.” She lets herself slump a bit into Alex’s arms. “I…I am so tired,” she admits. “And the Kryptonite, it…”
“I understand,” Alex interrupts. “I have some painkillers that should help you right now. We’ll put you to bed and get you lots of ibuprofen, that should take the edge off until we can get you airlifted back to the States.”
“Be my mate?” Astra begs, and it might be the pain or the disorientation from the Kryptonite or Alex’s confession or the general situation but it comes out anyway and Astra doesn’t even care how objectively absurd this situation is.
“I…uh…um…I…well…” The furiously blushing Alex is saved by September, who can’t keep a snort of laughter down.
“Wow. That has to be the best proposal I’ve ever heard. If you don’t mind, can I introduce you to my daughter as the cool aunts?”
Alex groans, resting her forehead on Astra’s again as she bows to the absurd. “What the Hell. Why not?”
***
Three days later. National City.
“So let me get this straight,” Kara says for the 10th time in an hour.
“Aunt Astra was attacked by CADMUS supersoldiers, one of whom also attacked Alex. Alex teamed up with one of the CADMUS women to take down the other two, rescued Aunt Astra, and then you two confessed your love to each other while covered in each other’s blood?”
Alex nods sheepishly. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“And then you convinced two of the supersoldiers to work for the DEO in exchange for paying medical bills?”
“Yeah, that’s basically what happened.”
“And then Lena, you found CADMUS’s mole in L-corp?”
“Found and dealt with,” the always-immaculately-dressed Lena Luthor corrects her girlfriend. “He’s not going to be working for a very long time. I made certain of it, his resume is now poison in every company whose CEO I know, and every company whose CEO knows my colleague Bruce. WayneTech’s name does carry a lot of weight.”
“So we’re safe now, right?”
Alex nods. “Yes. Well, we’re pretty sure. At the very least, what with Trump’s conviction for treason, Astra’s welcome back if she keeps a low profile for a few months.”
Kara nods. “Good.” She keeps nodding, visibly psyching herself up. “Good, good. Then I can ask you why are you rushing so quickly to marriage?”
“I have found a suitable mate, and she finds me suitable as well,” Astra states, still looking a little pale but back mostly to full power after three days of intensive sunbathing. “That is all that truly matters.”
“Stop, you make it sound so unromantic,” Alex chides her fiancée. Kara groans.
“Alex, she proposed to you minutes after being beaten within an inch of her life!”
“Honestly, Kara, at this point I don’t care anymore,” Alex admits. One thumb traces along Astra’s jawline as Human and Kryptonian turn all the way towards each other. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, right?”
“It still feels to me that this is a good plan,” Astra murmurs, and they kiss.
“Oh, come on,” Kara complains. “You couldn’t wait ten minutes?” After she receives no response, she shakes her head with a sigh, then picks up the eagerly waiting Lena bridal-style. “Come on, baby, let’s head home.”
“With pleasure,” Lena replies, wrapping her arms around Supergirl’s neck with a seductive smile. “Fly me home, Supergirl.”
Kara obeys.
And they all live happily ever after.