#this alternate universe has been kicking me in the head for months demanding I writeit

[karalovesallthegirls]

Supergirl AU

Cat Grant knows her assistants are cheating, she just doesn’t know how yet.

She even knows the exact date it started almost two years ago, when suddenly her constant stream of incompetent aides began to improve, to last longer. All her life her assistants have been barely adequate, but for some reason the last handful have gotten sharper and sharper. 

It’s been three weeks with this new one and, while his performance within CatCo is lackluster at best, he has yet to make a single mistake with her coffee or food orders. And if there is one thing Cat values more than all else its what she consumes; she spends all day creating media for the consumption of millions so what she herself takes in is of the highest priority.

This week she had a stress headache and she sent him off with a screech to get her some sustenance. Now she had very low expectations for this, so imagine her surprise when he comes back with a perfectly made bacon wrapped hamburger (her headache guilty pleasure) and a medium latte with just a dash of cinnamon.  There is no way on Earth that this Witt fellow should know about that. Her guilty pleasures are closely guarded secrets, and Cat Grant has never explicitly told anyone about her infatuation with bacon and cinnamon (both separate and together). And yet when she needed it the most, he just happens to get it exactly right. This assistant hasn’t even made it a month yet; there’s no way he knows this is a weakness of hers.

Which means there’s a snitch somewhere feeding answers to her assistants.

So Cat does the only sane and rational thing a person could do in a situation such as this - she begins to shadow her assistant everywhere he goes. Dramatic? Perhaps, but sometimes theatrics are the only way to truly get results. So she tells her little hobbit of an assistant that she’s furious and needs an iced coffee drink to calm herself down. Its a bit of a test, really. A coffee would be fine, but if she’s angry caffeine is probably not the best choice. Perhaps he’ll go with the given answer and all of Cat’s suspicions are for nothing. Regardless, she still waits exactly two minutes and thirty five seconds, throws on a hat and a pair of sunglasses, and follows after him.

As expected he goes straight to Noonan’s and she loiters a bit near the front of the restaurant to observe. Instead of going to the cashier to order, however, he veers over towards the seating area and frantically whispers at some waitress. Interesting, Cat thinks. She’s never seen this waitress before and yet Witt seeks her for advice.

Cat moves a bit closer, close enough that she can hear. “- and she’s being really weird, Kara, like weirder than she’s ever been! She said to get her an iced coffee drink to help cool her fury.” This waitress, Kiera or something, nods like this is a normal thing to be told. “Usually when Miss Grant gets angry you’re not gonna want to give her caffeine. That’ll just drive her even more. I would get her an iced tea, probably something with honey in it. She also loves cinnamon so maybe one of our seasonal teas?”

Cat is frozen, staring open-mouthed at this young woman she’s never seen before in her life spouting such detailed and accurate advice. That is the perfect drink for her in a situation like this. Who the hell is she?

Cat waits until Witt thanks her profusely and runs off to order before launching her attack. “You know, most of my stalkers are balding middle aged men,” she says, “having one like you is honestly kind of refreshing.” This Kiera woman just gives her a surprised smile. “Hello, Miss Grant! It’s nice to finally meet you.” And then she just turns and starts cleaning a table. Like Cat isn’t standing right there, making a dramatic entrance. That’s it? That’s all she gets? Unbelievable; Cat hates this Kiera already. “Alright honestly. Who the hell are you and how do you know my orders so thoroughly?” Kiera just laughs as she gathers the plates and begins wiping down the table. “I have worked here for three years, Miss Grant. I’ve seen a few dozen assistants of yours come in and try to get your orders right. Eventually, I figured you out.” Cat scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself, Kiera. I am an enigma beyond anything in this world, not something that can be ‘figured out’, as you so delicately put it.” Kiera just smiles and shrugs, still cleaning. “You eat your feelings a lot, Miss Grant. When you’re frustrated or overworked you get light foods, probably because your anxiety stops you from eating anything heavier than a salad.” She picks up the plates and moves to the next table to bus it as well, Cat trailing behind her. “You order things you might consider a luxury when things go well, like when that merger you headed succeeded a year ago. You ordered steaks almost daily.” Cat just stands there in a stunned silence while Kiera continues to clean and read her entire life like she isn’t a complete and total stranger.  “When you’re sad, you choose hot comfort foods.” “Alright, all you’ve done so far is prove to me you are in fact a stalker. Do I need to file a restraining order, Kiera?”  The girl has the audacity to laugh at that, saying, “You can get one if you like, I suppose, but then all of your assistants will probably start sucking again.”

And she’s so cheeky about it that Cat isn’t sure if she wants to strangle the other woman or offer her a job on the spot. She ends up going with the latter option. “Do you want a job, Kiera?” “I already have a job,” Kiera responds, unfazed by the magnitude of Cat Grant herself offering some lowly peon a job personally.  “Three, actually.”  “You have three jobs?” Even workaholic Cat is somewhat surprised to hear that. Kiera nods. “I work here on weekdays, and I’ve got this construction gig I do every other weekend. I also bartend most nights if I can.” “Is this all to finance school?” she asks, reeling at the hours this girl must put in. She can’t be a day over twenty one, and even that may be a generous estimate on Cat’s part. Kiera shakes her head, a sad sort of smile on her face. “Oh no, I never finished school. But my kid goes to the private academy on 8th street and lord knows its expensive.” Cat nods; she sent Carter there when he was a young boy and even for her it was a steep price for a primary school. “How old’s your son?” Kiera smiles, bright and full of pride. “He turns nine in February.” Cat works very, very hard to keep her face completely neutral at that. There is no way Kiera is older than at most twenty two, and she has a nine year old son. She had to have been, what? Twelve, thirteen when she had him? Knowing this, looking at her now, its suddenly apparent how much more there is than meets the eye. There’s a story behind the cautious hardness of her eyes. The defiant gait with which she carries herself, the way even her brightest smiles seem dimmed with some deeper sorrow. There is much more to this Kiera than meets the eye.  This woman - barely a woman, even - works all hours of the day and night to provide one of the best educations available in the city to her son, a son she had to have had at such an early age it could only be through terrible origins. And somehow through sheer secondhand observation, she’s managed to decipher exactly what Cat wants for every possible scenario. 

There is no way Cat is walking out of here without this girl in her employ.  “What if I offered you double whatever you’re making here, plus a starting bonus that could cover the next year of tuition?”  Kiera just stares at her like she’s looking for the lie, but Cat returns her stare with confidence. Why cycle through assistants when she could have the real deal? “Can I get that in writing?” Kiera says slowly, cautiously. Cat smirks. “Of course. I don’t make offers I don’t intend to keep, Kiera.” Kiera nods slowly before giving her a cautious smile. “My name is Kara, by the way,” she says. Cat waves it off. Like that matters. Still, her mind is on that son who is just a few years younger than her own. “What’s your son’s name?” she asks. “Kal,” she says, “Kal L. Moore.” “Well, you can let Kal L know that his next semester at the academy is taken care of.” And even if she weren’t gaining what may be the most fascinating employee she’s ever encountered, just seeing the way her face lights up with relief and joy is enough to know this is the right decision. Cat can’t wait to see what happens next.