Friday

Kara had a less than positive day. Snapper had shot her down in front of the whole team, and she had no one to go talk to about it afterwards. She was so sick of being humiliated by him, in private and public, but she understood why. She hated that she understood why he made her work so hard for anything. Unlike most other things (if she were being honest) this didn't come easy to her, and she had a lot to learn. She felt thought that he could go about teaching her a different way; throughout most of her life and in almost every movie she saw, positive reinforcement worked better than negative. Of course, if she were to suggest that to Snapper, he'd probably bite her head off.

After taking a long shower, she came out into her kitchen, barefoot with a towel on her head. She opened her fridge and looked around inside for something leftover she could quickly heat up. She found some leftover potstickers, which made her smile, and there was one piece of frozen pizza left in her freezer. She was so tired, she didn't even bother heating up the pizza, just decided to let it thaw for a bit and eat the potstickers first.

She plopped down on the couch and put the pizza on the coffee table. Her whole body felt sore. She'd spent hours sparring with Mon-El, who'd been steadily getting better every time they fought. He'd gotten a particularly good punch on her side once, which she'd shrugged off at the time, but was now hurting like hell. She remembered with a smile on her face the afternoon that had made the rest of her day feel much less terrible.

"Ugh, Kara," Mon-El had groaned as he sat up slowly. He'd looked up at her gently from where she'd thrown him, "Ow."

She'd swallowed, "Sorry." she'd motioned for him to stand up, "Come on--again."

He'd smiled and shook his head, standing slowly, "If you're sure..." he'd smiled, trying to tease her, to which she didn't respond.

He'd come after her again, sloppily, and she'd easily thrown him against the wall behind her. Unlike usual, she hadn't laughed, or teased him back. She'd been extremely frustrated and didn't know where to put it.

"Come on Mon-El!" She'd groaned, pacing around as he'd stood again. "You were doing much better than this last week! What the hell is up?"

He'd stood and put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. She'd raised her hands, as if telling him that the question hadn't been rhetorical. He'd swallowed and rolled his eyes.

"You seemed upset, so I was trying to make you feel better." He'd said and she'd sighed,

"Beating you up isn't going to make me feel better," she'd said, "actually teaching, seeing you get better and feeling like I've actually accomplished something will. So please, try."

He'd nodded, "Alright," he'd put his fists up, making her smile, "your funeral!"

She'd laughed for the first time that day, "Yeah right."

"You've been using up a lot of energy kicking my ass," he'd smirked as the circled each other, "I'm still full energy."

She'd rolled her eyes, "It doesn't take much energy to kick your ass, Daxamite."

He'd laughed then, "Alright then bring it on."

She'd smiled and then gone after him. They'd met in the middle of the space between them, and she'd flipped him over her shoulder easily. He'd landed on his feet and rammed into her back. He'd wrapped his hands around her waist and pushed her to the opposite wall.

"Oof," She'd mumbled, pushing him off.

He'd slipped back five feet. He'd looked down and then back up at her, "Oh come on!"