Kara’s dead tired. First day off the job in…hell, she doesn’t even know how long – six, seven years? And how long does the Justice League grant her? A day – one single day. It starts tomorrow, but still, one day. She shakes her head thinking about it and gets out of her Chrysler, realizing she had cut the motor over twenty minutes prior and had just been sitting there. A deep breath seeps from her when she lets the heavy metal of the door close. She stops to listen to it – the door of her car closing. God, that sounds good. When was the last time she saw the welcome-home sight of that rusty nineteen-seventy-two exterior, anyway?
Her heroic work had kept her up on the the Satellite for the past few years, which was fairly standard considering her line of work. Yes, she had been back back to Earth a time or two, but both of those were for work, and she didn’t really get a chance to come back to the apartment. There was that time that she was able to drive by it while chasing one of Livewire’s thugs, but she didn’t have the time to stop in. It wasn’t like she ever worried about it knowing the next-door neighbor, Ms. Grayson, would keep an eye on it. Getting the chance to see it now made her feel good – an easygoing kind of good.
She walks back up to her apartment, finds comfort in the unfolding of the deadbolt of the solid oaken door of her apartment, 34A on the sixth floor, a floor to which she ascended via the staircase – something she was both proud of and aggravated by. Flying has its benefits, obvious ones of course, but if she was back on Earth, she wanted to get herself in the mindset, in the routine of a regular person.
Her door is a cool smoothness as she flattens her palm on the backside and closes it flush with the wall, enclosing herself into her home.
Roughly twenty seconds of solace before the phone rings.
“Kara…Oh, hey Bruce; what’s up?…… Just got here, actually; the place looks fine. A bit musty, but otherwise just the way I left it………..what? Why?………….(walks with portable phone receiver into bedroom, walks to bedside table, opens drawer, shuffles contents)…wait, whaddyou mean Non? Non was here?!…..let me call you back.”
Kara returns the receiver and yanks on the door. Across the hallway, the small blurred white of the peephole light from across the hall stares at her in question. Kara pounds on the door.
An older woman, mid-fifties, opens the door and beams. “Kara! My gosh how long has it b-“
“Cut the crap, Martha. Where is it?”
“I don’t understand,” the woman says, her misty brows frowning above frenetic eyes.
“Okay, well since I don’t have time to play 20 Questions, I’ll break it down for you nice and slow. Non paid you to take the one item I value more than my life. You stole from me, gave it to him, and likely made yourself a very wealthy woman. You should know that Justice League is all over this, by the way. So either you can give me the answers to my very simple questions right now, or make my friends yank them out of you. Either way, you’ve made the very worst of decisions in doing this.”
Ms. Grayson’s mouth was still agape when the first series of explosions rocked the apartment building. The deafening sound married with the dust and the hallway’s caving ceiling makes the older woman scream. She slams the door in Kara’s face; her screaming frenzy persists behind the oak.
Kara’s eyes drop and she drops her head and let’s out a long sigh.
She runs to the end of the hallway and throws the door open to the outside. The city is on fire with smoke-tailed bombs still raining in. Kara leaps into the air and darts toward the sky, peeved at her day off.