Chapter Three
Gadgets and Demons

No matter how many years she spent on Earth, Kara was sure of one thing – she would never get bored of her ability to fly. Stopping bullets, heat vision, and freeze breath – those powers were all pretty awesome (for lack of a better word). But flying? It was something else altogether. As she banked to the left, high over National City's skyline, an unbidden smile creased her face. This was joy.

A part of her preferred flying at night. Night-time brought a vibrancy of its own with the lights of National City creating a tableau of colour and movement. As she had once told Cat Grant, Kara liked to think of each light as a person. Behind those lights lay individual lives – each one unique and adding to the tapestry of life in the city.

However, night was also when Supergirl was needed the most. Darkness created a cover of sorts. It aided the wicked, creating the illusion that no one was watching, or that no one cared. Kara hated the fact that people couldn't feel safe in their own city. While even she couldn't be everywhere at once, she could use her powers to protect as many people as possible.

So far that evening she'd dealt with the usual quota of muggings, put down an armed robbery without a shot being fired, and rescued a cat stuck on a ledge. All in all, a relatively slow night. She was deciding whether to head home via her favourite pizza joint when her super hearing was drawn to the sound of angry shouts somewhere below.

"You were given a week to pay up, Tommy. That week's up tonight. You better tell me you've got the cash or the boss is going to be pissed."

"C'mon, Grimes, you know I haven't got it. If I had it, I'd hand it over in a heartbeat. Let me walk my wife and kid home and we can go somewhere to discuss this. I-I'll work out a plan for getting you the money. Every last cent. Plus interest!"

"I got another plan, how about I hand your wife over to my boys here and you can start by paying your debts back that way?"

Less than half a minute passed between picking up the disturbance and the moment her boots hit the ground, but Kara arrived to find herself amid a maelstrom. The heated threats had suddenly descended into all out violence. Kara's first thought was for the family. However, although terrified, they were nowhere near the fighting.

It was as though a force of nature moved amongst the thugs. Kara was still searching for a target of her own when she watched as a whirling figure swept between two men. She caught a flash of vibrant red. One thug flew headfirst into a dumpster with a loud clang, the other could only grab desperately at the wire that wrapped around his neck before he was hoisted into the air kicking and screaming.

Instead, Kara elected to move to the victims – placing herself in between the violence and the cowering family. The pale, trembling young man with what looked like a week's worth of stubble on his face was clutching a woman and a terrified little boy to his chest.

"Supergirl!" he gasped, instinctively ducking as a muffled explosion echoed off the walls around them. "I don't know these guys, I swear."

"That doesn't matter. Just get your family the hell away from here, okay?"

The guy didn't need to be told twice. He swept up the kid under his arm, grabbed his wife's hand, and sprinted towards the alley's exit. Just another petty drug dealer, escaping the penalty for running afoul of a drug lord.

When Kara turned her attention back to the thugs, she found only a messy aftermath. The alley floor was littered with limp or crawling bodies. At the centre of it all, stood a woman clad from head to toe in black, faced masked, eyes unreadable. The only distinguishing feature about her was a mane of red hair cascading down her shoulders. That and the fact that she wore a red bat symbol on her chest.

"Another one?" Kara whispered to herself in disbelief.

"Sorry not to leave anything for you, but I just went with the flow and…well-" the woman shrugged as though it was of no consequence "-it's done now."

"I would say thanks," Kara began as she approached the strange figure warily. "But it really wasn't necessary to put yourself in harm's way. I would have handled it."

The woman chuckled, deep and throaty. She planted her boot into the stomach of the nearest semi-conscious thug, receiving only a quiet whimper in reply. "I suppose you're about to say you eat guys like this for breakfast?"

"For breakfast? No, well I mean it's hardly a challenge," Kara started to reply before realising how idiotic she sounded. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up. Bat…woman or not, she was determined not to let this individual dismiss her service to National City so casually. "I take my role seriously…ma'am. There are any number of factors to consider. The safety of bystanders, damage to public property, and-" Kara looked pointedly at the thug who was rolling around in agony, clutching his broken arm "-excessive force."

The Bat Woman laughed again, this time it was a more of a derisive snort. Without offering up an immediate reply, she walked towards Kara with firm, decisive steps. The effect was one of intimidation. Even as Kara resisted the urge to take a step back, she realised how ridiculous the whole situation was. She was Supergirl for Rao's sake. This was just some redhaired woman wearing body armour.

"We're not all bullet proof," the woman pointed out. "Using excessive force keeps me safe. And I like it that way."

"Who are you?" Kara demanded, unnerved that she was so…unnerved.

This time it was a distinct 'are you stupid' kind of look as the woman spread her arms, displaying her bright red cape. In the gloom of the alley, the effect was certainly dramatic.

"I can see for myself that you're a Bat Woman, but who are you and what are you doing in National City?"

"Do you always ask so many questions of people that are trying to help you?"

"When their motives are questionable I do," Kara fired back. "My cousin worked with the Batman once, are you related or something?"

"Nope. He's just a friend. And my motives are exactly the same as yours."

"The jury is still out on that one."

"I think the evidence speaks for itself." Batwoman looked around at her handiwork. "I trust you know what to do with little mess?"

"What?" There was no way that she – Supergirl – was cleaning up someone else's mess. And certainly not one created by someone dressed as a giant bat. "Hey-"

"See you round, Super...Girl." Batwoman's full, red lips curled up into a smirk. "Nice skirt by the way."

It wasn't until Kara was staring at the shadowy figure effortlessly springing up the fire escape above her, that she realised her fists were clenched. It was a good thing that her skin was impervious to her own nails, otherwise they would have punctured a series of half-moon shapes across her palm.

Still, even as she raged inwardly over the crack about her costume, it gave her some satisfaction that she was the one flying away from the scene.

Most of her irritation had disappeared by the time she arrived back at the DEO. Flying had the knack of doing that. Clearing her thoughts. Bringing everything back into perspective. So what if one vigilante disliked her outfit? Skirts, gadgets. It was all irrelevant. What mattered was keeping the citizens of National City safe. Provided the Batwoman continued to act like an ally, Kara would treat her as such.

It was late, but the DEO didn't follow the working day of a regular office. It never shut down. In their specialised line of work, they couldn't afford to knock off at 5pm.

Kara found Winn at his desk, nimble fingers flying across the keyboard with a speed that impressed even her.

"Supergirl!" He greeted her with none of Batwoman's smug derision tied up in the name. Held up his palm. "Lay one on me...gently!"

No sooner had their hands clapped together, Winn went back to his screen. "J'onn's got you working late tonight," she pointed out, having hoped that her friend would be up for a chat about something, even he was just geeking out over something she didn't understand. Perhaps some reassurance that her costume wasn't as ridiculous as Batwoman implied.

"Yeah, it's these abductions." Winn waved his hand in the general direction of his screen. "I'm hoping that if I find some common thread in why or how they've gone missing, then maybe it will help us to find them. Or at least figure out what Cadmus wants with them. But so far I've got zilch, nada, nothing!"

"Anything I can do?" she offered.

"No, thanks though, but I'll let you know when there are heads that need to be busted."

The forehead crinkle made an appearance. Busting heads? Was that all she was good for?

"Oh, almost forgot," Winn called over his shoulder. "Alex wants to see you. She's in the lab."

Kara found her sister exactly where Winn said she'd be. Much like Winn, Alex was intent on whatever she was working on. She peered over Alex's shoulder, hoping that it was something she could help with. Instead she found a confusing series of numbers and nonsensical squiggly lines. Clearly she needed to stick to busting heads. That at least she was good at.

"Busy night?" Alex asked without looking up from the computer.

"Strange night. There's a vigilante in town who wears a bat costume."

"Seriously?" That drew Alex's attention. She swivelled around in her chair, eyes wide. "That Bat guy, or whatever he calls himself? The one who worked with Clark?"

"Nope," Kara shook her head. "This one was very clearly a woman." A kind of…hot woman.

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Another one?"

"I know, that's what I said!" Kara replied, throwing her hands up. "Anyone would think they were having a fire sale on bat costumes at 'Vigilantes R Us' or something. Hey, Winn said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

For some reason, Alex looked decidedly panicked at that thought. She shook her head vigorously. "Oh no, I mean, it was something that came up this afternoon, but I…dealt with it. All good."

Kara frowned. "What came up?"

Whether Alex was deliberately trying to ignore her, or just didn't hear the question, Kara lost her at that point. Alex turned back to her work. Apparently, that was the end of it.

Kara briefly considered asking Alex what she thought of her skirt, but quickly dismissed the idea as pointless. It was her costume and she owned it. End of. She didn't need someone who dressed up as a giant bat to weigh in on the matter. She placed her hand gently on Alex's shoulder.

"Hey, I'm going home to binge-watch the first four episodes of The Good Fight. You in?"

"Tempting, but no." Alex briefly lifted her own hand to brush against Kara's. "I've got a few things I need to finish off here, then it's home to bed. Some of us don't have your stamina for watching box sets into the small hours of the morning on a work night."

"C'mon, Alex, you're the queen of box sets!" Kara pounced on her sister from behind, ensnaring her in a warm hug. Just for a moment, she felt Alex relax into it. "Promise me you won't stay here too late?"

"I promise. Now get going. And no spoilers tomorrow!"

"As if I'd risk our relationship over box set spoilers!" Kara joked.

She was eager to get back to her studio, have a shower and change into something more comfortable. However, as she walked away from Alex, she couldn't shake the feeling that there had been a forced excitement in Alex's voice. Now that she thought about it, her sister had looked tired and drained. Kara paused, wondering whether she should turn around and insist on dragging Alex out of the office. She eventually decided against it. Alex was a big girl. If Alex wanted to trade watching ass-kicking lawyers for the chance to cram in a few extra hours of work, then that was her prerogative. The last thing Alex needed was her little sister telling her what to do.

Kara glanced over her shoulder one last time. Alex had already refocused on whatever science-y thing she was busy with on the computer - head down, shoulders slumped.

The weekend was fast approaching. Although that didn't necessarily mean much in their line of work, it was a good enough excuse for a sister night.

As Kara stepped outside and launched herself into the air, she decided that she would hold off watching The Good Fight and make do with dusting off an old favourite.

Chuck. She smiled to herself. Definitely Chuck.

It was the second time that week that Lena found herself having dinner at Brown's. However, this engagement bore absolutely no resemblance to the pleasant evening that she had spent with Kara Danvers. Instead she stared across the table at her mother, wishing that she was someplace, anyplace, else. The starter she'd chosen, a rather bland soup, was eminently more interesting than listening to Lillian reminisce about family life. As though having some claim to being involved in any other capacity than the elusive figure that Lena remembered. She'd wasted years trying to elicit some form of approval out of her stepmother, but had always come up short. Lena didn't see how it would be any different now. Even though her brother was in jail, never to see the light of day again, he was still Lillian's favourite child.

"This is all very lovely, you telling me stories as though I wasn't actually there," Lena eventually said. "But there must be some other reason as to why you wanted to have dinner. I don't believe it was simply to chit chat."

Lillian looked glacial for an instant. Then it was smoothed over, the calm restored. "Oh you know. I wanted to see how you were. It was all over the media after all."

"What was?" Lena asked warily.

Lillian speared a piece of tomato with ruthless efficiency. "Supergirl saving your life of course. What was she like?"

Lena tilted her head to one side, studying the overly beatific expression on her mother's face before she replied, "Kind. Gracious. Humble." She thought she heard Lillian utter a quiet snort of disbelief. "Exactly what you would expect her to be."

"Conniving. Manipulative?" Lillian suggested. She lifted the tomato to her lips and bit down savagely. "Lex thought the same thing of Superman before he revealed his true colours. My poor boy. Entirely too trusting for his own good. You would do well to watch yourself around his cousin. Or better yet, stay away from her altogether."

"Oh, Mother, here I am, a grown woman, running my own company, and you're still trying to tell me what to do. Why don't you let me make up my own mind about who to trust?"

Lillian smirked. "You always were headstrong. I'll give you that much."

"How nice of you."

With humiliation running through her veins, Lena concentrated on the bland soup with more gusto than it deserved. She idly asked herself whether it would be preferable to endure another hour of stilted conversation, or deliberately provoke her mother into leaving. Unfortunately, the latter would cause a scene. She could already imagine the headlines.

Luthor Family spat at prestigious restaurant.

L Corp was still far too new to risk more unfavourable headlines about its CEO, regardless of how she felt about her mother. No, she would grin and bear it. Even if it meant listening to Lillian sing Lex's praises, all the while demeaning her own, not insignificant, accomplishments. Lillian had already returned to family memories.

"I remember your seventh-grade science project. You refused to let Lex help you, even though you were clearly struggling…"

I struggled. Worked it out for myself. And received an 'A.'

"…science wasn't exactly your strong suit."

I'm just as clever as Lex. And entirely less insane.

Her thoughts flitted to far more pleasant territory. Remembering the sight of Kara Danvers sitting opposite her in this same restaurant. The dress the young woman was wearing. That dress. The thought had to be sharply curtailed. The last thing Lena wanted was her mother questioning her about her flushed cheeks.

I'm quite sure that would make your day, Mother, she thought as she lifted another spoonful of soup to her lips. Finding out that I like fucking women.

Well, that revelation wasn't going to come anytime soon. At college, and during the years since, Lena had worked hard to maintain discretion in her private life. It wasn't that she wanted to remain closeted. Instead she simply desired to keep this part of her to herself. Away from her mother's spurious interest. Knowing full well that Lillian would succeed in scaring off any long-term lovers.

In reality, it made for a lonely existence.

The harsh sound of a purpose-like ringtone interrupted Lillian mid-sentence. Lena couldn't even remember what her mother had been talking about, but the call was a welcome distraction. She felt hopeful, then disappointed when Lillian simply glanced at it and rejected the call.

However, it was immediately followed by a series of text messages. Each sounding more urgent than the last. With mild curiosity, Lena watched the almost imperceptible play of emotions across her mother's face – wondering if she had imagined a slight twinge of panic.

Eventually Lillian tucked the phone in her bag and looked up with an almost apologetic smile on her face. "I am afraid…that I must cut short this delightful evening and attend to some urgent business."

"Urgent business, Mother? I wasn't aware you had any business interests." Lena couldn't resist the jibe. The resulting narrowing of Lillian's eyes was more than enough reward. "This has been fun. We should do it again when I can find time in my schedule." Which will be never.

They didn't stoop as low as to feign a hug where one wasn't necessary. Lena simply offered a tight-lipped smile. It broadened out of relief as she watched her mother walk away.

Dinner with mother, check. Another thing to cross off the list of unpleasant tasks.

The waiter paused awkwardly by her table. "Um…shall I bring you the cheque, Ms Luthor?"

"No, but can you please take this crap away-" she pushed the wine her mother had chosen towards him. "-and bring me a bottle of the Marlborough Syrah while I peruse the menu."

"Certainly, Ms Luthor. Right away."

It was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The tension caused by Lillian's presence disappeared. As her eyes roamed over the choices on the menu, her thoughts wandered back to Kara Danvers. Almost absently, she retrieved her phone from her bag. Kara, with her gorgeous, almost shy smile. Lena smiled as she scrolled through the numbers, feeling almost giddy. The way she felt was ridiculous really. Kara was just another young woman. Oh, her type without a doubt. Smart, fierce, funny and, despite the signals Lena has been sending out, still so completely clueless.

No, two invitations to dinner within the space of a week was too much, too fast. With a regretful sigh, Lena replaced the phone in her bag.

Her wine arrived. As the waiter poured a measure for her approval, she started mulling over more discreet ways in which she could justify seeing Kara again.

It was pushing 9pm, but the main office floor at NCPD was still lively. The levels of noise and the tone of the banter hinted that things were winding down for the day. As Maggie threaded her way through her colleagues and desks stacked high with all manner of crap, she overheard snatches of conversation. The same old shit. Mostly about sport – as though life itself was riding on whether some overpaid player scored a touchdown or not.

"Hey, Sawyer?" One of the older detectives called across the room. "You let me know when you're done kissing alien ass and you're up for some real police work."

The thinly veiled crack at her sexuality was obvious. The guy's colleagues sniggered around him.

"And you would know all about real work, Davies?" Maggie fired back, momentarily picturing launching herself across the desk and delivering a swift kick to his groin.

It was easy not to care. While she'd never broadcast it, she'd made no secret of the fact she was gay. And it had always given her a kick to have a girlfriend show up at the precinct – leaving a trail of slack-jawed idiots staring, muttering amongst themselves about how she always seemed to get lucky.

Luck had nothing to do with it. It was about treating a lady right. And she had always been exceptionally good at that.

Maggie cast a cursory glance towards her in-tray as she sat down. It was practically overflowing. Without even glancing at a single case, she knew that eighty percent of it would be bullshit. For some reason, everything weird and obscure seemed to find its way into her in-tray, regardless of whether it fit the Science Division's brief. There would be the usual quota of bogus reports, fake sightings and hate crimes that had nothing to do with aliens and everything to do with the simple fact that people were assholes.

Still, sorting through the pile would at least be cathartic. She grabbed the folder on top.

A woman of many talents, one of Maggie's most prized abilities was her knack for zoning out bullshit. From the moment the first folder opened, all the background conversation about sports and her colleague's kids disappeared from her hearing. Her world narrowed to the satisfying existence of work.

Crap...Maggie threw the folder onto the growing pile of cases that didn't belong on her desk. What the hell, where is the alien involvement? It's a clear case for vice...Another one on the pile. Utter bullshit. This is Davies thinking he's funny again.

"If you hear reference to a giant bat-"

Her trademark powers of concentration deserted her as one of the detectives spoke. His voice had been loud, but it was the 'B' word that caught her attention. Bat…no way-

"-you obviously think about the Bat Man, but I heard that this was a woman. Get this - a Bat Woman."

"The real question is, was she hot?" another asked. The question was followed by hearty, congratulatory laughter.

"Dunno, the perps that were brought in were almost mad, raving about how she moved as though she was a ghost. I tell you what, no ghost gave them those injuries that's for sure."

Maggie realised she was gritting her teeth. Muttering to herself, she retrieved her phone and began stabbing out an angry text message.

{Kate, WTF! Yr taking up residence in NC now? Not on my watch. Cut this shit out or get the hell back to Gotham. If Supergirl kicks yr ass, don't come crying to me.}

The response from Kate was almost instant: {I'm a big girl, Mags.}

With an irritated snort, Maggie shoved her phone back into her pocket and tried to refocus on the case files covering her desk. However, her irritation made it difficult to concentrate. National City had Supergirl. They didn't need a vigilante adding to the confusion. It was more likely that Kate was going to get herself hurt. Or worse.

Maggie found it next to impossible to get back into her comfortable, focused zone. She heard every word of inane conversation from the other side of the room.

"C'mon. Are you serious?"

"It's like I was telling Frank the other day, Harvey needs to man up and bench Maloney if they're going to have any chance of clawing back the points difference with the Blues."

"I agree. Just because they dropped a load of cash on the guy, doesn't mean they should have him starting every game. He's deadweight-"

She couldn't work, but nor did she have any desire to go home. No doubt Kate would be there and they'd end up in some sort of confrontation. And with her frame of mind, a confrontation with Kate was just as likely to lead to angry sex. Maggie definitely didn't want to go there.

"Fuck this," she growled under her breath.

She threw down her pen and drew her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her contacts. Her actions were decisive until her finger was poised above the name she sought. Her finger hovered as she recalled Kate's advice admonishing her not to get involved.

So what? This wasn't getting involved. It was just a phone call to a friend. Catching-up. Of course, there was the distinct potential that she would suggest they meet up for a drink. But that's what friends were supposed to do. They went out for drinks together. Talked. Enjoyed each other's company. Saw more of each other.

Knew what it felt like to tuck one of Alex's curls behind her ear.

Okay, that is the definition of getting involved! Fuck it. Maggie stabbed her finger downwards. She knew she'd made the right decision when a palpable thrill coursed down her spine as the call connected. When have you ever listened to Kate anyway?

The answer was swift. "Sawyer."

"Danvers." Maggie loved this game they played. A little too much. "What's new?"

"Well, the DEO is working through the information your friend gave us," Alex started to explain in a matter-of-fact voice. "It's still relatively early days, but we're taking this very seriously. Whatever Cadmus is trying to accomplish through these kidnappings, it has the entire department on high alert."

"I'm glad. If any organisation can get to the bottom of this, it's the DEO." Maggie was still angry at Kate for staying in National City and making a nuisance of herself. That wasn't going to go away in a hurry. But it was also the last thing she wanted to think about. "But I didn't call to talk about work. I called to talk about you-" Woah. Much, much too much, Sawyer. "About how you are with...everything."

"Oh." Alex sounded blatantly surprised. "Um, fine I guess."

It was one of the least convincing responses Maggie had ever heard. "Uh-huh. Really? Which is why you're still at work?"

"How do you know I'm still at work?"

Just a hunch. "It doesn't change the fact that you are still at work, Danvers. Let's change that. Meet me for a drink at Dolly's?"

It had taken her less than a minute to bring up the drinks invitation. Smooth.

"It's late..."

"Do you want me to call your Mom for you? Get permission for you to stay out late? C'mon. One drink. Possibly one round of me kicking your ass at pool."

Finally, there it was. A carefree laugh. Maggie grinned with satisfaction at the knowledge that this was a done deal.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen, Sawyer. See you in thirty?"

"You're on. See you soon."

Maggie stood, tucking her phone in her back pocket. She knew full well that she was walking a dangerous tightrope. While Kate's warning had pissed her off, it was still good advice that she needed to heed. Unfortunately, there was no way she would ever accept not being a part of Alex Danvers' life. Not when she found it so difficult to find people that she could stand to be around. And Alex was already more than that. Alex was a friend.

She'd just have to promise to behave herself.

While Lillian couldn't go as far as to say that dinner with her daughter had been a success or even particularly enjoyable, it was the most time they had spent together for several years. Lillian wasn't interested in spending time with Lena out of any maternal instinct, instead it stemmed from an inherent desire for knowledge. Lena had efficiently cut her out of everything to do with Luthercorp - or whatever it was these days.

L Corp. Her lip curled into a sneer. Excising their proud family name from the company.

If a few awkward dinners were all it took to regain some measure of insight, and possibly even control, then Lillian was prepared to feign interest in Lena's life.

Bastard brat that she is, Lillian thought to herself as she entered the cell block at one of Cadmus' testing facilities. Her heels rapped sharply on the tiles, announcing her presence to the nervous looking doctor clutching a clipboard. "This had better be important, Dr Abernathy."

"Ah, yes, Ms Luthor," he said, nodding towards a nearby glass fronted cell. "I think you'll see that we've had a small setback."

With an irritated sigh, Lillian stepped forward so that she could look for herself. Her lip immediately twitched in disgust. The small cell had previously been a pristine white - the bedding on the narrow bed, white tiles, white fixtures. The red blood was in stark contrast. Smeared across the floor. Splattered over the bed. However, the greatest concentration was an area of tiling on the wall. The tiles were broken at near head height, liberally covered in blood. As though someone had-

"Subject 54. He repeatedly struck his-"

"I can see that for myself, you moron," Lillian cut the doctor off in a tight voice. "The question is why?"

She stared at the body lying face down in the middle of the cell. In a previous life, the young man had been a college track star, earning mentions of an Olympic career. Cadmus has taken that potential and shaped it into something even more promising. The ability to change the world as opposed to win meaningless medals. Now his lithe, muscular body was nothing more than an empty shell.

"I observed his performance yesterday," Lillian continued. "There were no indications that he was rejecting the procedure. You yourself assured me that he was one of the most promising candidates. Nearly field ready, were your exact words. Now it's an expensive failure!"

"I must apologise." Abernathy was unable to hold her gaze. Staring at the dead body was clearly easier. "It appears my optimism was premature, at least in this case."

"Unless you want to find yourself alternate employment, I would suggest you ascertain the reason for this instead of standing around apologising!" Lillian snapped impatiently. "We have our deadline. If I don't have a team field ready-"

"You will...we will!" he looked up, bobbing his head. His determination almost feverish. "This was an aberration."

Lillian folded her arms across her chest. "It had better be, doctor. For all our sake's, but yours in particular."