Cat would be lying if she claimed not to notice.

It's frankly difficult to ignore, no matter how often or hard Cat has tried to do just that, and Kara – Supergirl, Cat scoffs into a smooth glass of bourbon with half-hearted irritation – while certainly extraordinary in any vast number of ways, can clearly not count subtlety among her extensive list of attributes.

The truth, Cat admits, is that she is honestly uncertain if the girl reveals herself purposefully by way of that rare, but always (worshipfully) welcomed brazenness that Cat has occasionally known her to exhibit, or if Kara Danvers is simply so innocently naïve with her feelings that she has survived twenty-five years of her life without ever bothering to learn an effective method for hiding them away.

Because Kara may fruitlessly attempt to keep her true identity under wraps – out of reach from Cat's itching curiosity, away from fingers that ache in a dangerous sort of way to peel apart each and every one of the girl's fascinating layers to reveal the depths that lie beneath – but aside from that, aside from the one, now glaringly obvious truth that flimsily keeps them apart, Kara hides very little else from Cat Grant. Both Kara and her alter ego seek Cat out exclusively, in fact; spill secrets even Cat realizes that no one else is privileged to share, whisper quiet confessions of loss and insecurity that no one else will ever be allowed to know, offer Cat trust with a kind of profundity that the media mogul is certain she has done very little to earn, but that Kara stubbornly offers to Cat alone, and no one else.

Cat values that in Kara. She values her trust, yes– yes, of course Cat values that, but more, Cat values Kara's loyalty, that loyalty that is only for Cat, and the older woman greedily laps it up like a bowl of cream to her namesake. And in response to it – as a reward for it, Cat is self-aware enough to acknowledge, though she does so rather grudgingly – Cat listens. She listens, listens, always listens, and – only at the end; only when she is sure that Kara is finished, sure that Kara has offered all that she is willing to give Cat, in that moment – Cat tenderly (or aggressively, as is more often necessary with the Sunny Danvers aspect of the girl's wretchedly confounding character) offers her advice.

And, reliably, Kara follows that advice blindly, with a heart that is far too wide and invests far too much trust in the ever-cynical Cat Grant, and the Queen of All Media regularly finds herself floored with irrationally genuine pride at the typically exceptional result.

Which makes this entire… situation that much more difficult for Cat to brush aside.

And how can she be expected to? Cat wonders, forearms draping across the railing of her office balcony, fingers loosely clasping the amber-filled tumbler hung across the edge as her eyes belligerently turn toward glittering stars, in what Cat will eternally deny is an effort to seek out the very girl who has saddled her with this conundrum, in the first place.

How can Cat truly be meant to ignore the way that her obviously misguided assistant has developed a clear reliance upon Cat's instruction in ways that extend far beyond the safety of her office? The way that Kara – especially when she is Supergirl, when she wears the suit, when every decision she makes could mean life or death for any number of innocents who call this city home – has come to rely upon Cat for direction when the girl herself is too overwhelmed to make important choices on her own? How can she ignore the way that Kara glows and stammers and stumbles at the thrill of even a hint of Cat's prized and sparingly offered praise, when she follows Cat's directions well?

Cat is a remarkable woman, she knows – there's no denying it; Cat had dug her claws into the corporate ladder and created an entire empire upon reaching the top to make certain no one ever could – but how can even she, impressive as Cat knows she is, wield the kind of restraint necessary for her not to notice the way that Kara is so blatantly, desperately eager to submit herself to Cat's will? The way that she so constantly strives just to make Cat proud?

How can Cat fortify her strength enough to ignore how entirely willing Kara Danvers is to please her?

Cat Grant possesses a wealth of power, and she exerts that power on most occasions simply because she can, simply because she has earned it, has fought for that power and won it; Cat will feel no shame for flaunting her prize when presented with an opportunity to do so, but Cat Grant also did not become the Queen of All Media by settling for what she's given. She is always craving more, always reaching for it, always thirsting for as much power as she can cradle between her perfectly moisturized hands.

And Kara – perhaps without knowing, perhaps without realizing, though Cat is not ready to discount the notion that the girl is both entirely aware of her own wants, and of the ways that she has actively sought to fulfill them – is offering Cat the power to have the Girl of Steel on her knees, all for her. Just for her.

The most powerful person in National City, perhaps the world – because, alien or no, Supergirl is a person and her power, much like her mentor's, refuses to be denied – and she could be Cat's. She could be Cat's to hold, to worship, to praise, to guide and mold as she sees fit; she could be Cat's to reprimand, to keep in check, to use as she pleases and punish when she doesn't. Supergirl could belong to her, Cat knows – would probably wear a collar with Cat's name and phone number and home address inscribed, if Cat would only ask it of her, and Kara Danvers would blush from head to toe and probably collapse in submission with nothing but instinct and pleasure, in an immediate effort to prove to Cat her already-apparent devotion.

Cat longs for that kind of power, has built her entire career and life upon the inherent need to have it, and Kara is openly relinquishing it, giving it away piece by piece, a little more each day.

And Cat, as she has always done, craves it. She thirsts for it, thrives on it, needs it – and, heaven help her, Cat Grant is going to reach for it.

Author's Note: Could be a one-shot, or a multi-chapter... depends on how it's received. ; )