So this started because of the most recent episode, and I've been DYING to write after I hadn't for nearly months. This was my stress relief and a way to outlet some of my pent up emotions. I'm mostly making this up as I go, but I wanted to add some new dynamics and explore how a predetermined relationship would affect them, seeing as they definitely don't want to be together as rival planets.

Anyways, I won't hold you back: enjoy! Please comment and let me know your thoughts.

I'm also on tumblr, if you'd like to follow me there! Same handle.

...

Without Precedence

...

A hiss erupted from her lips and her hand flew to the other, gripping hard at the white-hot pain that suddenly flared from the marks etched into her skin.

"Honey?"

Kara Zor-El looked up, meeting her mother's concerned gaze. Several thoughts fly through her mind: this wasn't right. Does she tell the truth? What would her mother think? Would she even be allowed this? Above all, who was it?

But she swallowed the thoughts, pushed down the sudden guilt at the realization what this burning meant.

"It's nothing, mom."

Her mother's cascade blue gaze softened, but something in her tone told Kara that she didn't quite believe her daughter. "Must be Daxam air. I don't blame you, honey, I hate these trips just as much as you do." She let a heavy sigh blow from her lips. "As does your father, too. But you know us, and you know him, as part of House Zor-El—"

"—We have a duty to Krypton and our star's relations," Kara parroted back. Her mother gave another sympathetic smile; she merely shrugged her shoulders up and down. "It's nothing, Mom, I'll be fine when I leave."

"I told Zor-El to wait a couple more years before bringing you," her mother responded ruefully, before extending her reach to her daughter. Kara stared at the open invitation, before stuffing her right palm into her pocket. She then took her mother's hand, and she said nothing more about the glowing red emblem emblazoned against her skin.

...

Kara Zor-El kicked her door open. With a groan, she peeled off her suit from her body, grimacing when the material didn't seem to want to part from her skin. She left the mess of blue and red on the floor and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash the grime and sweat from her torso. She then tilted her hair back, letting the water work away at her long blonde tresses. A good lathering, rinse, and tight towel wrap later, and Kara stepped around the pile of material and into her living room, plopping herself graciously on her couch.

She didn't really care about what was on TV, but it was some rom-com, direct-to-TV movie that played on whichever channel she happened to have been watching last. The noise was comforting, a wash of sound to keep her company as she sat back and picked at her nails.

Briefly, she observed the marking on her hand – an elaborate and intricate web of interwoven markings; the design unique to just her.

If anyone had asked, she had called it a tattoo. A memento from her rebellious phase, she'd say with a big smile that she hoped would convince whomever asked – and she often would have to step on Alex's foot before her sister objected. It didn't matter anyways, what the tattoo's origin was; being on Earth and after all that's happened, its purpose was rendered obsolete.

So, really, it was just a tattoo.

Kara realized she was rubbing at it subconsciously. She scrunched her nose as she dropped her hands, her eyes just managing to catch the two lead actors in whatever movie she was watching suddenly kiss – and it steadily got fiercer and fiercer, and Kara clicked away to the news. There she was again, up close, a beautiful shot catching the bus that had been flung from the impact of an explosion. Her shoulders still hurt from the phantom weight of the vehicle, as her TV-self lowered the bus back onto the road with poise. Nice, she thought, before she turned off the TV altogether.

...

When she woke up the next day, Kara didn't know why, but something just didn't feel right.

Something pricked along her spine, an odd foreboding that she didn't quite understand. But Kara had faith in her instincts, so as she pulled a shirt over her head and slipped on a skirt, she glanced at her hand. The marks were jet black, the same as they'd always been, for almost all her life.

Impossible.

And it was, as she followed her usual morning routine: running out the door before running back in to pick up some paperwork for Cat Grant; gripping her favourite bagel and latte in her grip as she speed-walked through National City's bustling street traffic; tapping her foot as she waited for the (public) elevator to ascend approximately fifty floors to the main office; presenting her offerings to Cat as the woman stepped out of her (private) one. A brief nod and yet another mispronunciation of her name later, and Kara sank into her office chair, drew the stacks of paperwork toward her, and began to read each file over with increasing boredom.

She didn't know how much time passed, but the sound of a throat being cleared caused Kara to shoot straight up, only to meet Cat's searing gaze.

"Oh my god, I was just—"

"—drifting off into space, I presume," Cat responded, though her tone wasn't quite as icy as Kara had expected. "That on your hand, is that Henna?"

Kara stiffened and dragged her gaze to her right hand.

Shit.

She had forgotten to wear a glove.

Kara had adopted that habit since she had begun working – such an obvious etching on her hand raised eyebrows, and with that, many other questions. She personally didn't think that it should matter – after all, such tattoos had always been customary on Krypton at the very least – so to hear that something as ridiculous as body markings being a reason to not be employed was always somewhat lost to her, even when she grew up immersed in Earth culture.

She shrugged. "Yes?"

Cat's eyebrow raised. "You never did strike me as someone who would go through a rebellious phase, Kira."

A nervous laugh bubbled from her lips. "Well you know me, Miss Grant…" Her boss only 'mhm'ed, entirely unconvinced. Kara sighed. "My hand's been bothering me. I think I've been developing a rash, really, so I didn't want to, uh, cover it up."

Cat's gaze grew a tad more sympathetic. "Foundation, my dear. And let's hope that your 'rash' can't spread through your grip and into my latte." And with that, her boss spun on her heels and reentered her office, and Kara merely melted into her chair, wishing the ground would reach up and swallow her whole.

Several more moments passed before her eyes caught a flurry of movement. Not to be caught off-guard again, she straightened and met Winn's eyes this time. He glanced down at the markings. "Wicked," he said. "I've never seen one in person."

"A tattoo?" Kara asked incredulously.

"No, a – you know." Kara merely raised an eyebrow. Winn sighed. "You know I do my research Kara, don't try to pull the rebellious phase thing with me."

Right. She had to give Winn credit where due, Kara supposed. "If you wanted to see it, you just had to ask."

"Oh? I was under the impression that your marking was… well," Winn rubbed the back of his neck. "Personal. Isn't it?"

"Maybe it used to be," Kara said quietly. "But since I'm one of two Kryptonians left, this is pretty much last one. So really, it is just a tattoo now." She held up her hand. "Do you want to see it?"

She didn't miss the excitement in Winn's eyes as he reached for her. "Amazing," he muttered as he held it closer. "What I wouldn't give for a skin sample – I know, I know," he added hastily. "It's not like anything we can do can really cut you to begin with. But still, the implications…" Kara stared at him, just long enough until he caught his words and backtracked. "Right. Basically a tattoo."

She cleared her throat. "It's not that I resent it. It's an inherent part of Kryptonian culture, and it reminds me of home." She withdrew her hand from his grasp, staring at the interlaced black lines that decorated her skin. "But it also reminds me that there isn't that person for me anymore."

"Right," Winn said, almost ruefully – and Kara remembered with a force that Winn had once had feelings for her. But he caught her eyes with his own, before waving it all away. "I get it, I do. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry Kara."

Kara lowered her gaze. She took a moment to breathe, to give a quick exhale before adjusting her glasses. "Well, that was more than thirteen years ago. It's okay – really. It just, feels weird today. Maybe I'm just going crazy."

"Well, uh," Winn dropped the volume of his talking as he leaned in, palms flat against her desk. "I did hear that the DEO has something for us when we get back." He straightened and shrugged. "Maybe it has something to do with your hand."

Kara shrugged. "I mean, unless another Kryptonian showed up, with the exact same tattoo on the back of their hand, I highly doubt it. But I guess that's a possibility. Even though it's a really, really small one."

...

Maybe she was just imagining it, but she swore her hand was positively vibrating the entire way to the DEO. Kara wished that Winn had never put that stupid idea in her mind in the first place; she was almost certain if he hadn't said anything, this flight would be the same as any other. She shook herself from her thoughts as she landed with a thud, striding into the office with her cape bellowing behind her. Her sister marched up to her as she descended the stairs, matching her pace as she began to speak quickly to fill her in. "We found something you might be interested in, it's been ID'd as Kryptonian but they have to double check – Kara, your hand-!"

"I know Alex," Kara said as patiently as she could. "It's been feeling weird so I'm not wearing the glove, but it's fine, don't worry."

Alex merely nodded brusquely before continuing. "So it just landed overnight, it took an team to extract the pod over to the DEO and-"

"-Wait. Pod?"

Alex only mhm'd. Kara froze, and her sister nearly raced past her before realizing she had stopped. "Yeah, Kara, a pod."

At least fifteen emotions raced through Kara at once. Maybe that was what her hand was reacting to – another one of her kind, that wasn't Kal-El who had his own mark he promptly ignored, also because he wasn't taught the significance. But she knew, and her hand vibrations suddenly seemed a lot more real now, and it was as if the sensation slowed down and became sharper, a tangible prickling now as opposed to a buzz.

"Show me," she heard herself say instead.

She watched Alex's mouth spread into a smile; Kara supposed her excitement (and nervousness) was contagious, as her sister clamped her hand around her wrist and dragged her to further into the facility. With each growing step, Kara felt like her and her hand were separate entities. She was excited, and so was the mark, or maybe she really was imagining things, until she reached the pod.

It was Kryptonian, almost exactly like her own. She placed her left hand against the metal, and she could feel the same smooth texture that Earth's metal couldn't quite emulate beneath her fingertips. She sipped a serrated breath as she dragged her hand along the surface and she ignored how her right hand prickled with anticipation, as if begging for a turn as well.

"Kara," boomed J'onn's voice from behind her. She spun around to meet the disguised Martian and Winn. While the latter rushed forward with a quiet yip of excitement, the former too had as happy an expression the Martian could spare – while it wasn't quite a broad smile like Alex sported, the curve of his mouth was enough for her. "I see you've seen our visitor."

"I have," Kara responded, unable to contain her giddiness.

"Well, we can also open it, you know."

With a bit of a squeak, she grasped for her sister's hand. Finding purchase, she squeezed – maybe a bit too hard, as Alex hissed a soft ow at her grip, but the DEO agent's smile mirrored her own.

"Kryptonian, Kara," Winn called from his spot by the pod, not that she needed a human identify the technology that was her own, "I might be right after all."

"Just open the pod," she responded playfully, and Winn complied.

With a hiss, the pod split in half, lifting with a gust of air as the spacecraft released its hatch. Three things happened at once, Winn yelped, Alex gasped, and Kara's hand seared.

And with a sudden drop in her stomach, Kara realized she knew this feeling.

"I was right, Kara, I was right – you so owe me at least two drinks, small chance my ass, look it's a – why are you looking at your hand?"

But Kara wasn't listening to Winn anymore. She had let go of her sister's hand as soon as the white-hot pain began, and, with sinking dread, she knew what it meant. Oh Gods, she had forgotten, but now, it all came rushing back.

Alex was the first to respond. "Kara, your hand – it's glowing."

From the corner, a small 'oh' came from J'onn as he surely read her mind.

And Winn chattered on, "wait, your hand is glowing? Doesn't that mean – oh my god Kara, you owe me at least four drinks, and a pizza –"

Kara tuned him out. Yes, it was true: the designs were glowing, the pain three times as powerful at this sudden turn of events, for it had been so long since her hand had felt this way, that there was any feeling in it at all. Sure, it had only burned once like this before, but in the presence of other Kryptonians, it had always felt something. As if she was connected to life itself, like all Kryptonians around her, to her cousin – and it had gone almost 13 years completely silent. But it wasn't just buzzing, it was burning, and she knew why it burned, whom it burned for.

And it was possibly the last person she wanted.

"That's not a Kryptonian, Winn," she murmured.

The brunette paused midsentence, blinking owlishly. And then he seemed to regain his voice. "Wait, but I thought you said that those were Kryptonian markings, you know – mating marks, so, through deduction, of course, this has to be a Kryptonian."

Alex's head had whipped back to her, but Kara couldn't bear to look her sister in the eye. "No, you're right Winn."

He blinked again. "I'm confused."

Kara swallowed, feeling the lump that had suddenly developed ride up and down. "I mean, you're right about the markings. To find your mate. But you made one made one major mistake. But you also wouldn't have known."

Winn cocked his head to the side, Alex drew very still, and J'onn quietly left the room.

Kara took an unsteady breath.

"They're not exclusively Kryptonian. Other cultures have them too after all, but there's never been a case of interspecies marks lining up. Well," Kara hesitated. "Except one."

She raised her gaze to meet her best friend's, and then her sister's, before she dropped her gaze back to the man in stasis in the pod. Revulsion had already gathered at her throat, despite what her tattoo was trying to dictate her otherwise, and she couldn't quite manage to keep the venom out of her voice.

"He's not a Kryptonian; he's a Daxamite."