Everybody Loves Kara IV

A Matter of Support

by Leighgion

Hal Jordan, Green Lantern of Earth, looked around at his teammates, minus two, assembled in his living room. Without preamble, he threw down the morning's issue of The Gotham Grapevine on the coffee table for all to see. There was a mixed chorus of nervous laughter from the gathering as they took in the front page story.

The front page photograph had captured Kara in a Monroe-esque pose, holding her skirt down against a sudden gust of wind that sent her golden hair aloft as she stepped out of a limousine. The bold headline above read:

Wayne's Itch For a Lemon Tart

The laughter cut off abruptly when Wonder Woman dropped the satellite images on the table.

---

"So, I'm lying there pinned under a chunk of city hall that I could just shove off of me, if I could uncross my arms. Which I couldn't, since my top was shredded from that last blast of the muon cannon and there was a crowd that included people with cameras. Naturally, it's not Atom Smasher, Captain Marvel or anybody who can lift the wreckage for me that shows up first..."

While Power Girl talked and sifted through the loaded rack of sweaters, Supergirl sat on the bed and looked around the room. Wayne Manor was enormous and, even given her superhuman speed, she had for several reasons chosen to experience it gradually. Kara had been unaware until that morning that not only had one room been designated as Power Girl's for years, but it was stocked with an extensive, constantly updated wardrobe as well. The young Kara wandered over to idly poke at the covers the bed. To human eyes, every bed in the manor looked fresh, but deeper secrets were revealed to Kryptonian eyes: the bed hadn't been slept in for a very long time.

"... there I was, just lying there in the rubble with Batman standing over me. Of course, he can't get me clear, but there's people watching so he comes out with a, 'You look like you could use some support,' whips out what's left of my cape and covers me up so I can get free."

"Couldn't you have kicked the wreckage off?"

"Did I mention the Ultra-Humanite didn't design his cannon to spare bottoms either?"

Supergirl coughed.

"So what happened next? Your cape isn't very big."

"No, and it was a fair bit smaller by then. I had to leave holding my cape against the front while he wrapped his cape around behind. Not my proudest hour, but it kept me covered."

"So that's how it started!"

"That's how. Week later I'm getting a torso cast. 'The other kind of support,' he called it. Didn't seem weird by that point for him to offer me custom bras. Red sweater or green?"

"Red. He's not much one for talking, is he?"

"Not him."

"Man of action."

"Definitely."

"He sees, makes a decision, then goes for it."

"Pretty much."

"You must be very special to him."

"Sorry?"

"I have to admit, I'm a little jealous."

Power Girl turned, shot Supergirl a puzzled look, then laughed.

"I don't know what ideas you got, kid, but it's not like that. Hell, I hardly see him couple minutes a month, if that. Last night was a fluke. I only stopped for the show. And all this... " the elder Kara made a sweeping gesture at the packed closet, "it's nothing to him. He's spent more on you already, I'm sure."

Supergirl smiled.

"The man who doesn't even like any other masks visiting the city without his permission gave you a room in his house and lets you come and go whenever you want."

"He gave you the same."

"You were the first by years. And he makes you bras! He doesn't do that for anybody else!"

Power Girl just muttered. That was an unassailable fact. Supergirl, scenting the weakness, pressed her advantage.

"He's the only man in the world that offered you custom-made bras. He must have really liked what he saw, mm?"

Power Girl flushed pink and gritted her teeth.

"I thought you said he wasn't a knocker man."

"I said he wasn't just a knocker man."

Power Girl snorted.

"Aren't you supposed to be his little lemon tart?"

Supergirl hrmphed.

"I wouldn't mind at all, but he's been a perfect gentleman. I think his eye is on a bigger dessert."

"Yeah, sure. News to me."

"You were news to me too. Until last night, I had no idea you were so close to him. He never talks about you, you know. The same way he never talks about his parents, his training before he became Batman and all those other things that are more important than anything else."

"You're reaching."

"You don't use his name when he's not here."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Neither do I."

"Your point?"

"I didn't start doing that until I loved him."

"Oh give me a..."

"Karen." For the first time, Supergirl used Power Girl's adopted Terran name. "We're different, but all the years of our lives were the same until the rocket. I know you better than you think."

"What's your game, Kara?"

"You said yourself I'd do anything for him. Well, I would. I'd even give him up to a bigger lemon tart.. if she'd treat him right."

"I am not a lemon tart!"

"How about a lemon pie?"

Power Girl fell silent.

"Just.. don't go this time. Stay for lunch with him."

"He'll say no."

Kara smiled and hopped to her feet.

"Let's just get an outfit picked out for you and let him decide that."

Half an hour later, an edgy Power Girl saw herself in the mirror still wearing the same taut red sweater with a black leather skirt. Supergirl, swimming in an entirely too large, essentially identical outfit culled from Power Girl's closet, beamed beside her.

"There are many copies!"

"If only they had a plan."

"We have a plan. You're going to walk out there and have lunch with him while I get Tim out of the house for a while."

"Kara, if I lose my supply of bras over this..."

"I promise, if somehow he picks me over you, I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Terrific. Just so we're clear, I am not dancing barefoot at your wedding."

"You're funny. By Gotham standards, you've practically been his wife for years. Just need to get him to admit it!"

Power Girl fumed. She couldn't deny there were twenty-year marriages among the Gotham elite that were even more remote than her vague alliance of convenience with the Batman. She'd lost count now of how many custom-designed and built brassieres that WayneTech's "Section D" had produced for her. It wasn't sexy lingerie, but it was a great deal more personal than the bankers, politicians and old money that just signed off on their wives' credit card bills.

"I suppose he is smart, handsome, rich and kind to widows and orphans."

"Especially the orphans."

"Very funny."

---

The sun was high in the sky by the time Bruce Wayne emerged from the sanctum of his quarters for lunch. Unusually, Alfred was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

"Good afternoon, Master Bruce."

"Afternoon, Alfred. Something on your mind?"

"Indeed, sir. I owe you an apology."

Bruce paused at that. His detective's brain strained, but not a thing was coming to mind between the Dark Knight as his faithful butler that would call for apology. If had been anyone else, Bruce would suspect a trick. Even though it was Alfred, a more benign trick couldn't be ruled out, so he leaned on the bannister and, with a more polite rendition of wariness, gave his old friend his attention.

"Okay?"

"Surely it cannot have escaped your notice that over the years, I have been less than approving of your treatment of members of the fair sex with whom you had any chance of forging a more lasting relationship."

"That's occurred to me, yes."

"The matter of Ms. Kyle of course, bears first mention. There was chemistry even while you were casual adversaries during her many burglaries. You are of course, not wholly to blame that nothing came of it, but you were always content to play foil and never press your case with her. Such a mercurial woman is not likely to ask for any commitments if offered none and, while it may be for the best, I do believe the last window of opportunity for you in her regard has passed."

"I see."

"Then there is Ms. Talia, whom I've concluded you simply wield as an implement against her father. Though I have grave reservations, given the situation I suppose I understand, but that effectively doomed a future with her, no matter how strong her devotion to you. I believe she was worth the gamble it would have taken, but you have never been one to take those risks."

"Alfred..."

"You know that even Ms. Isley harbors some affection for you, which as I understand she is not shy about. I would not have advocated courting her per se, on account of her obvious instabilities, but treating her a little more warmly could have cultivated a much more affable enmity more akin to that you had with Ms. Kyle and tempered some of her more extreme behavior as 'Poison Ivy.' Given those circumstances, who knows what the possibilities would have been? I believe she was genuinely grateful that you rescued her from Clayface."

Bruce coughed uncomfortably.

"I must say though, the true pity was Ms. Bordeaux. She grew to know you from the other side and I'd had such hopes when you began to allow her in. While a strong and capable woman, she was much more willing than the others to do things your way, given that you were her guide into the underworld. Granted, larger events intervened, but you really could have made more of an effort, sooner, to mend matters afterward."

"I swear you started this off saying something about an apology."

"I am getting to that, sir. It seems, I must give credit where credit is due as despite your numerous failures in this arena, your unorthodox methods have yielded results from a quarter that even I never suspected. Clearly, you have coaxed out a dark horse, so to speak. My hat is off to you."

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll accept your apology, but I have no idea what you're talking about, Alfred. This can't be about Kara."

"Thank you, sir, and no, I do not refer to Miss Kara. But I think you shall find lunch more.. stimulating.. than usual. Everything is in readiness, so if I might be excused, Master Timothy has inquired about certain items of a musical nature."

Still mystified, Bruce just nodded and parted ways with his manservant. True to Alfred's word, there was a surprise waiting at the lunch table. Across the usual table, with her place neatly set, sat Kara Zor-L, aka Karen Starr, aka Power Girl.

Power Girl and Batman's professional association was very limited. Bruce Wayne and Karen Starr's was arguably even more limited, as officially they had only met in the most passing of ways. Ever the detective though, Bruce had gathered a fair impression of Karen's personality. Stubborn, willful and confident, Karen Starr wasn't the sort to fret over her appearance or be socially nervous.

Bruce's practiced eye noted Karen's carefully brushed hair, her selection of a relatively demure, but flattering red sweater and her choice of Section D's most low-profile support design. Noteworthy also was that Karen was looking at him just a little too steadily, almost belligerently.

There was no mistake. Karen had fretted over her appearance and made an effort.

For him.

Karen was nervous.

About lunch with him.

In usual fashion, Bruce's brain processed all of this information with precision and, with the subject being his relationship with a woman, vacated the premises leaving behind only the observation that Alfred had, for Alfred's standards told the truth. Far as the butler was concerned, it was Ms. Kara at the table, not young Miss Kara.

"Karen. Hi."

"Bruce. Thought I'd stay for lunch this time."

"Ah."

"If that's alright with you."

"Sure."

Against her will, Karen's lips insisted on smiling.

Distracted by the sudden turn of events, Bruce tripped on the way to his chair.

Acting on instinct, Karen's Kryptonian speed came to the fore. In the blink of an eye and a rush of air, she darted out of her chair, around the table and caught Bruce with one arm around his waist and a hand on his arm. A heartbeat later, both froze as they realized their position.

Bruce Wayne as a rule resented such abrupt intrusions into his personal space and his instinct was retaliation, but the circumstances were not normal. He was keenly aware that while Karen's practiced rescue grip was gentle, that it was quite capable of shattering stone and deforming steel. A physical response simply wasn't viable as his years of training were telling him in Karen's current mode, that any sudden move on his part was only going to make her hold on tighter, and there was no technique on the planet he could leverage to break that iron grip.

Karen also was rather easy to look at. And be pressed up against. The combination left him at a loss and it was all Bruce could do to just keep as dignified an air as he could.

For her part, Karen's brain was flailing wildly for a way to let go without verbally acknowledging that she was effectively hugging the Batman in the privacy of his home and that it really wasn't bad. Her mental grasping was shortly rewarded with a straw.

"Ribs still bothering you?"

"Must be."

Neither moved.

"Karen?"

"Yeah?"

"You can let go now."

"Right."

Neither moved.

"I'm okay, really."

"Right. Letting go."

---

Many miles away, brunch had gone well on the culinary level. The melon was especially fresh. The matter discussed over brunch hadn't faired nearly as well. After more than an hour of denials, circular logic and maddening vagueness, Lois rubbed her temples and attempted to salvage what she could.

"OK, Clark, let me get this straight.. leaving aside there's a secret about the situation you can't share.. you admit it's not possible that Kara's being forced to do anything against her will, that she's an adult according to both human and Kryptonian standard and has all the associated rights to do what she wants, but you are still so totally against the situation you feel justified in using commercial airlines to sneak into Batman's turf, violating not just your cousin's privacy but all of Wayne Manor's with your X-ray vision, and generally scheming to corner Kara alone so you can carry on with the losing fight to convince her to listen you?"

Clark Kent, better known as Superman, folded his arms defensively.

"I wouldn't put it quite that way, but yes. This just isn't acceptable."

"You are so on your own, Smallville. Just do me one favor?"

"Anything I can."

"Please go and save some treed cats or something? You're wound tighter than the city budget."

"I'm fine."

"Your fork isn't."

Clark guiltily opened his fist and watched the ruined remains of his flatware clatter to the table.

"I think I hear a tabby in a maple tree calling my name."

"Just don't squeeze the cat like the fork, okay?"

---

Having managed to untangle themselves and actually sit down to start lunch, Karen and Bruce found they had much in common.

"So."

"So."

Neither of them were talkative over meals.

"How's Tim?"

"Doing better."

"That's good."

"The Society treating you alright?"

"It's okay."

Neither were good with small talk in general, really.

"Do feel like I don't fit in a lot of the time though, you know?"

"That's why I mostly work alone."

Karen paused and toyed with her fork as she eyed her lunch companion through her eyelashes. Even lacking Alfred's knowledge, Karen's time coming and going from Wayne Manor had given her insight into Bruce Wayne/Batman's tenuous relationship with the opposite sex. She knew that many worthwhile, and far more determined, women had come before her and failed to win a lasting place at his side. Having only recently being cajoled by Kara into admitting even the possibility of an attachment, Karen was by no means certain a lasting place, or any place other than what she had, was what she wanted.

There was, however, something about the tragic, wounded man quietly looking at his salmon instead of her, that galvanized Karen's resolve. Instinctively, she felt that having come this far and standing on the shoulders of Kara's willing sacrifice that it would be a grave moral failure to finish the meal without doing her utmost to form at least enough of a connection to prove an affable companion, even if was only for the duration of lunch. Charm and affability were not Karen's strong suites.

But she had other inside advantages.

"I've been meaning to tell you, Section D's been doing a really great job."

"They're some of my best engineers."

"I'm sure they are, but they've done a lot more than you know. A lot more than they had to really, since they worked up all their designs assuming I didn't have any powers. Bruce, we could help a lot of women with these designs."

That got his attention. Bruce looked up, as if really noticing Karen for the first time since the meal began. Sensing the opening, Karen pressed on.

"There's a lot of jokes at my expense, but the fact is it's not so bad for me. I'm more than strong and resilient enough that I don't get any back problems or.. well, other gravity-related issues from this body. If I wasn't Kryptonian though?"

"Back problems." Bruce frowned darkly. He had a special empathy for back problems, especially after his experience with Bain.

"Terrible, painful back problems for a lot of women and not many options."

"What did you have in mind?"

"If you don't any companies that make women's clothing, you could license the designs."

"There's probably a few patents in them. We should offer the engineers a cut before filing."

"Naturally."

"I'd hate to lose any of them, but a couple might jump at a change of pace. Can offer a leave of absence for any of them that want to help get the new line off the ground."

"Sounds very reasonable."

"How do you feel about being a spokesmodel?"

"I could be convinced."

Energized by the prospect of a new way of helping people that wouldn't cost him any blood or injuries, Bruce pushed his plate aside and spread out his napkin as an impromptu drawing surface.

"I've got an idea for the ad campaign. It's a little risky, but hear me out, alright?"

I owe this all to my rack. Who knew?

Karen smiled and gave her attention.

This time, Bruce didn't trip.

---

The gathering of the Justice League, sans Superman and Batman, had sobered into a shocked silence at the juxtaposition of Kara's unintentional channeling of Marilyn Monroe in both poise and scandal potential with the spy photos from orbit that clearly showed Superman lying on the wing of a passenger airliner over Gotham.

Roy Harper, the Red Arrow, was the first to hesitantly break silence.

"Lemon tart. That's harsh."

Wonder Woman sighed.

"Lois called me, at the Themiscyran Embassy, to ask if Earth was being invaded, since Clark wasn't where he promised he would be. These pictures were on the Embassy servers by the time I was on the phone. Now we know where he was."

Diana was interrupted by the Black Canary.

"Look, we all know what's going to be up for vote. Clark and Bruce of all people are on collision over a little blonde. Does anybody here have the slightest doubt that the answer is 'yes?' Kendra? Jeff? Mari? Hal?"

A chorus of negatives rippled over the little group. In spite of the situation, Diana smiled.

"Good enough. The unannounced motion passes unanimously.

"Hera help us, the Venus Protocols are now in effect."

---

Author's Notes: Whew, that was a long gap with life getting extra busy, but we're back with the longest chapter yet! Further episodes won't take nearly so long.