Work Text:
Waiting at her apartment was almost akin to torture. At least in Mon-El's mind it was.
The echo of the ticking clock seems to get louder and louder with every moment. He opens the bag of chips he brought and munches on one, savoring the taste of barbeque on his tongue. As his eyes glance at the clock for the 10th time, he wishes she would hurry up, or at least use her abilities to fly here.
It's her fault he's impatient. She was the one who introduced him to cable TV and the shows that come with it, and despite him denying it, he's gotten addicted. Probably more than she.
He's about ready to turn the TV on himself when the door to the apartment bursts open and flustered Kara walks in.
"Sorry, sorry,"
She dumps her purse quickly on the kitchen table and takes off her heels, wobbling the entire time.
She collapses on the couch next to him with a contented sigh, closing her eyes.
"You aren't going to change?" He points to her pencil skirt, surprised.
He's dressed in a hoodie and grey sweats and normally she changes into pajamas before they, as she likes to put it, 'binge watch' TV for the rest of the evening.
"Just put on the show," she mutters, too tired to care or open her eyes.
Raising his eyebrows, he places the chips down before grabbing the remote and switching on the TV.
The theme tune blares from the speakers and he sits down and grabs the chips again.
He turns to offer her some but her eyes are still closed. A faint crease has appeared between her brows and he feels slightly concerned.
"Long day?" He says in-between a mouthful of chips. He tries to sound casual but the concern manages to slip through.
She cracks open an eyelid and the couch bounces as she slightly turns to look at him.
"Ms. Grant is throwing a last minute CatCo Gala,"
"Didn't she just get back?"
He imagines running a company is not an easy job. Putting a party on, a Gala at that, while running a company? He admires her drive.
"Yes," she says grudgingly.
She probably doesn't want to talk, so he doesn't pry any further.
But then the floodgates open.
"It's a Gala, so now I need a formal dress, and it's being put on by CatCo, so even though I'm not her assistant anymore she's still using me as her personal slave!"
She's sitting up and gesturing wildly with a frustrated expression.
"And now, she giving me every possible assignment she can with this party and I'm overwhelmed, and I don't know what to do!"
He can't help but slightly smile at her outburst. It's not often he sees Kara upset this way, but it's such a contrast to her usual mood he can't help but find it entertaining.
"You're laughing at me!"
Crap.
Work frustrations forgotten at the moment, she's now glaring daggers at him.
"Okay, okay," he says, putting his hands up, still chuckling a little. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She pauses.
"What?"
"Is there anything I can do for you, Kara?" he says slowly.
She looking at him with a weird expression, and a half-baked thought forms in her mind.
And before common sense kicks in, she's invited him to be her 'plus one' to the Gala.
"What does math have to do with a party?"
Her brow furrows at his words and bewildered expression.
"It has nothing to do with math, Mon-El. It just means I can bring one extra person to the party with me."
His eyebrows shoot up.
"But it's mostly so you can help me set up." She adds.
"...And also so I don't have to talk business all night. If Cat sees me with you, maybe she'll leave me alone for the evening."
He nods understandingly.
"Well, then, Kara Zor-El, it will be my privilege to escort you to the Gala"
He smiles, extending his forearm her way.
She smiles too, looking back to the TV and bats it lightly away.
"Just pass me the chips, Mon-El."
The dress is too tight.
She tugs on it, willing it to loosen. It's not uncomfortably tight in the traditional sense, she's just not used to wearing something so... form fitting.
She sighs, looking at herself in the mirror and turning. Well, this is as good as it's going to get for a last-minute purchase.
Snatching her matching clutch from the bed she heads toward the bedroom door.
Alex's fingers drum random patterns on her sister's couch as she grumpily takes a sip of her beer.
What's taking her so long?
Like a miracle the bedroom door opens a second later.
Kara steps out and she's wearing the most gorgeous mermaid-cut beige dress. The gold beading is intricate, yet delicate and adds a 20's feel that's glamorous yet not over the top.
Kara is stunning. Glowing even, if not a bit uncomfortable looking in such a dress.
"You look amazing!" Alex stands and looks the dress over. "Spin for me,"
Kara obliges. The beading glitters and so does Kara's gold jewelry. Her hair is swept into an updo that's loose and frames her face and glasses elegantly.
Alex's immediate thought is how screwed Mon-El is gonna be when he sees her.
She can't help but chuckle. It will be interesting to see how everything plays out.
Alex takes off soon after that, leaving Kara slightly reassured about her outfit for the evening.
She barely has time to sit on the couch when there's a knock at the door.
Shuffling to the door in her dress, she unlocks it with a loud click and Mon-El walks in.
He looks good. Really good. How he got his hands on a tailored suit she doesn't want to know, but it accentuates his physique nicely.
She can feel her mouth opening a little and her cheeks starting to flush.
At that moment, he turns around, sees her, and stops dead in his tracks.
She's just... beautiful. Like a goddess. He's sure he looks like an idiot just staring at her but he can't help it. (Don't mortals worship goddesses?)
The dress hugs her curves in the most flattering way possible and accentuates her natural beauty, enhanced by touches of makeup (he assumes) that leaves her glowing.
What did he do to deserve someone like her in his life?
"You look....amazing!" he manages to get out.
"Thank you," she says automatically.
Her expression is one he hasn't seen before, her mouth open slightly, and he frowns. But it's gone before he can make anything of it so he brushes it off.
"Ready to go?" he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
She shoots him a smile and he extends his arm. She doesn't slap it away this time but takes it and they walk out, closing the door behind them.
The arrive at the venue and Kara immediately rushes off much to Mon-El's bemusement.
Watching her try to hike up her dress, run, and look professional all at the same time is one of the most hilarious sights he's seen in a long time.
He walks in, following her as best he can at his leisurely pace.
He walks up the staircase to the second floor and stops.
He's impressed.
The decor is elegant, classy and the floor-to-ceiling windows all the way across the building open the space even further.
Tables at standing height are covered with white floor-length table cloths and interspersed around the open area in the middle of the room (he assumes a dance floor).
On the right wall is a table decorated with an exorbitant amount of food.
And on the side of the room he's at, he sees the familiar sight of an open bar. He grins.
"Mon-El, can you come help with this?"
Kara's voice rings throughout the large space.
He internally sighs. The alcohol can wait until later. With that, he turns and makes his way through the hall to Kara.
An hour later people are arriving and the Gala is in full swing.
The dance floor is full of people waltzing and dancing to the live orchestra and light chatter floats through the air.
The alcoholic beverages are not nearly strong enough for Mon-El's taste, but he'll gladly take what he can get.
He takes on last swig from his wine glass, setting it on the shiny counter of the bar before walking in the direction of the food.
It's been a while since he's seen Kara, and the last time he ran into her at an event like this was where the food was. It's worth a shot.
As he nears the tables he catches a glimpse of her. Turning his head he sees her talking to a group of people.
Her smile is radiant but he can easily pinpoint how it doesn't reach her eyes.
Time for action.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," he says, inserting himself smoothly into the group and conversation. "But I think my date still owes me a dance."
He's being really charming and polite, and it completely throws Kara for a loop.
He holds out his hand, giving her a look and flashing a smile. Kara returns the look, giving him a curious one instead, before grabbing it and walking away with him.
"What was that?"
"Me, gallantly saving you from a boring conversation,"
She laughs dryly.
"Ha ha, don't let what I said get to your head. I just might have to take it back." She smiles sweetly at him.
He leads her to the middle of the dance floor and their hands automatically meet. He leads her, and they sway to the music.
They dance in companionable silence for a moment before she expression changes and she looks up at him, frowning.
"How did you know the conversation was boring?" She scrunches her eyes and waves her hand dismissively. "Sorry, sorry. It doesn't really matte-"
"Your eyes," he states gently.
She locks her gaze with his intense one.
"Your smile didn't meet your eyes. I didn't want to see you that way."
Her eyes are alight with that look from the apartment and all he can do is just stare back.
Then it's gone and she's back to being flustered.
She clears her throat out as she looks down, fidgeting a little.
"So, what do you think of the decorations?" she says, quickly changing the subject. "I think they turned out okay,"
He remembers the ridiculous efforts it took to set the place up and chuckles.
"I think we did a pretty good job,"
He thinks for a moment.
"Actually it's pretty amazing for an Earth party. When my parents on Daxam threw parties, the whole palace would be decorated and the entire court would attended, dressed in the most ridiculously formal attire. I mean there even was a time whe-"
"Your parents threw parties in the palace?" She cuts him off, looking confused. "You were a guard on Daxam. I thought only members of the royal family coul-"
She trails off.
He can feel the panic seeping into his expression (not that it matters, the rapid, loud beating of his heart would have given him away regardless).
She frowns when he says nothing, and he feels sick as he watches the realization sink in, emotions flashing on her face.
"You lied,"
It's two little words but it cuts him deeper than a lead bullet could.
"You're the Prince."
This is so much worse than he could have ever thought.
He looks up and the look of betrayal on her beautiful face is almost too much for him.
"Kara, I-"
"Save it, Mon-El!"
She shoves him away from her.
There are angry tears in her eyes and he can see people beginning to stare at them.
"You knew how I felt about the Prince, and," her voice catches. "And you still lied about him saving you! You let me believe a lie!"
"I wanted to tell you, Kara," his sincerity doesn't seem to register with her. "But I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" She practically hurls the words at him.
"This."
Confusion. Fury. Betrayal.
Her eyes portray the feelings she's not saying and he barely has time to notice the single tear before she rushes away.
There is an awkward pause, and he can feel the people's eyes on him, then everyone goes back to talking.
He's alone.
He finds his way to the concrete balcony. Its curved in a c-shape and not as long as the whole building but spacious enough for guests to have privacy. A bench of concrete is around the perimeter and he makes his way to the unoccupied right corner and sits down heavily.
He runs a hand through his hair. This is a disaster. She looks like a Princess tonight and he felt on top of the world until one little slip and everything crashed down.
He sighs. He knows it's his fault. It was only a matter of time before his past would catch up to him.
He just wishes it wouldn't have been tonight. Or like this.
She deserved better.
She deserves better.
He doesn't know how long he sits there, but as the night goes on, one by one the people on the balcony start making their way inside away from the cold.
Then someone coughs lightly in front of him.
And as he looks up, his gaze meets hers.
Her hair is half out of their pins, blonde curls cascading down her back, and her eyes are red with visible tear tracks down her face. She tries to hide a sniff but he can tell she's been crying. His stomach clenches knowing he is the cause.
"Can we talk?" Kara says tiredly. Her voice sounds thick and he feels even worse.
She sits quietly and her mouth opens but he cuts her off.
"When you first found me...I didn't know whether to trust you or not. When I found out you were Kryptonian I lied to protect myself."
He looks at her. He can see sadness and a hint distrust. Her walls are going up.
"Then you told me about my planet and that my people were gone. And I realized if I said anything I could be used as a hostage. I mean, you saw how I badly I fought. I couldn't have protected myself from you even if I wanted to."
He swallows.
"But you were different than I thought. You changed how I thought, and you challenged me all the time and eventually I started to trust you."
He looks up at her.
"Then you mentioned the Prince."
Now it's her turn to look away, eyes turning watery.
"I heard how you spoke of him- of me. You believed in me: Mon-El. You didn't believe in him."
"And the way you would look when you talked about him?" He pauses for a second, biting the side of his cheek. "I didn't want you looking at me that way too."
She lets out a sniff, turning back to him and he can see tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I was going to tell you at Cadmus and I was working up the courage to tell you when it slipped out tonight."
His voice become softer and he impulsively reaches over and squeezes her hand gently with his. Their eyes lock.
"I want to be different than him. Kara, you showed me that. And I'm sorry if I hurt you. You deserve so much more that."
She gives him a teary-eyed half-smile.
"I couldn't hate you, Mon-El."
He hesitantly smiles back.
"Are we okay?"
"Yeah, we're okay."
He didn't loose her and while guilt is still present, relief floods through him.
Standing up, she wipes away the evidence of tears.
She extends her hand out to him, completely catching him off guard.
Noticing his surprised expression, she gestures at him.
"We should go back inside, it's almost midnight."
He hesitates, then places his hand in hers. She grasps it and pulls him up.
"Plus, you owe me a dance." She says as she pulls him back to the party.
The musicians are playing a slow song, beautiful and melodic but flowing, when they come through the doorway.
She leads him onto the dance floor and he clasps her hand and waist while she rests her free hand on his shoulder.
They begin to sway to the music, copying the other couples on the floor.
Then he has an idea.
Her eyes widen as he leads her out of time, letting go and stepping away with only their hands connecting.
Her startled eyes are still locked on his and she starts to dance in step with him, the movements obviously familiar to her.
He prays he remembers the steps after all these years before pulling her back to him.
Then they're twirling across the floor, grins building on both their faces.
All eyes are watching them as they dance, one step of this foreign dance flowing seamlessly into another. They move as one, and when Mon-El spins her she relishes the feeling of nostalgia and joy.
As the musicians bring the song to a close he pulls her back into the movements everyone else is doing.
He's breathing hard and when he looks at her he's startled to see her eyes are teary again.
However, she smiles at him and wipes away the wetness from her eyes.
"How do you know that dance? I thought it died with Krypton.”
He looks sheepishly at her.
"My mother made us all learn it for when the Kryptonian diplomats would come."
She looks torn again: sad, yet at peace. Then he can see the gratitude in her eyes.
She surprises him by leaning forward and placing a lingering kiss on his cheek.
He closes his eyes. She doesn't have to say anything.
But she does.
"Thank you," she whispers in his ear. Her voice sends goosebumps down his spine.
Does she know the kind of power she holds over him?
"KIRA!" she pulls back immediately looking startled at the shout of her 'name'.
He smiles at her tired look. It must be Miss Grant.
"Duty calls," he shrugs at her with a grin.
She rolls her eyes in reply much to his amusement as she walks away.
"Yes, Miss Grant?"
He watches her disappear into the crowd as horns go off and cheering begins. Everyone is looking out the windows so he turns just in time to see fireworks going off all across the city.
He shoves his hand in his pocket and grabs some champagne from a waiter's passing tray.
Raising his glass up in toast, he then swallows the drink down.
To new beginnings...and maybe the start of something new.
Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here
DARE YOU TO MOVE - SWITCHFOOT