Nope!

“Are you from Norway?”

“W-what?”

“The blonde hair, the blue eyes, and, I mean, you kind of have an accent?” The pizza guy stared. “Or, uh, is that just how people from Metropolis sound like?”

Kara laughed so hard that she had to duck back into the dressing room and take a breath.

But she noticed the way his eyes softened whenever she stepped out in something new. Not the way other guys looked—no ogling, no weird breathless grins. Just this warm kind of admiration, like he was seeing her even when the clothes changed.

After over an hour—and a bag of carefully selected items—Kara looped her arm through his and tugged him toward a nearby café.

“You survived,” Kara teased.

“Barely,” he joked. “I think my credit score dropped just from being in that store.”

She laughed again. Truthfully, she hadn’t had this much fun in a long, long time.

Even the pizza guy—he didn’t know shopping could be like that. Easy. Funny. Flirty, even. Something about Kara made everything feel simple. She didn’t judge, didn’t mock, and even when they bumped shoulders or accidentally reached for the same hanger, there was a little spark between them. Comfortable, not awkward.

Kara ordered two hot chocolates with whipped cream and they found a table near the window. The rain had started again—just lightly this time—and the city looked like a watercolor behind the glass.

He leaned back in his chair. She leaned forward.

“I had a really good time,” she said softly.

“Me too,” he replied. “You, uh… make shopping surprisingly fun.”

“You make everything fun,” she said without thinking.

There was a small beat.

Their eyes locked.

She felt a tingle run through her fingers and curled them around her mug to hide it.

“Wanna come back to my place again?” she asked, suddenly more shy. “I mean—just hang out. Not—not like that unless—no pressure. Just hang. Chill. Movies?”

The pizza guy nodded, smiling. “Yeah. That sounds really nice.”

Across the café, near the back wall, Diana Prince looked up from her tea. She had come in for a quiet moment, a short reprieve from the chaotic threads of Gotham.

She had not expected this.

There, in the center of the café, sat Kara.

And across from her? Him.

The same pizza guy.

Diana didn’t need super hearing to read the body language—the way Kara leaned toward him, the shine in her eyes, the barely-contained joy in her posture.

Kara Zor-El, giggling.

Kara Zor-El, holding a shopping bag and biting her lip like a lovestruck teen.

Kara Zor-El… absolutely smitten.

Diana sat back slowly, her brow furrowing in thought. Not anger. Not envy. Just something deeper—an ache of surprise mixed with something unnameable.

The pizza guy had no idea.

No idea he had a Kryptonian wrapped around his finger.

No idea he had walked right into the crosshairs of something bigger than himself.

Diana took a sip of her tea, eyes never leaving the couple.

Kara laughed again—high and musical—and Diana couldn’t help but smile, even as her jaw tightened.