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“Well look what the cat dragged in.”
The rumble of her rolling bag across the hardwood floor comes to an abrupt stop with a dull thunk as it collides with the footrail. Maggie barely spares it a glance as she all but collapses onto a barstool.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Exhausted as she is, Maggie can’t help the way the bartender’s teasing has an involuntary smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
She ends up at this hotel almost every time she has an overnight in Boston. And it just so happens that the most gorgeous bartender on the east coast - she would know, she’s met way too many of them - works here.
She definitely doesn’t request these accommodations specifically for that reason. Definitely not.
Peeling off her jacket and undoing the top two buttons of her shirt, Maggie looks to the bartender in question who’s currently wiping down the bar top to her left and gives her the best smile she can muster at the late hour.
“How are you?”
The smile she gets in return sparks a little light through the heaviness in her chest.
“Better now.” The beer bottle hisses as Alex removes the cap and places it on the bar top in front of Maggie. “Long time no see.”
Alex says it casually - there’s a casual air to most of her speech which Maggie guesses is a side effect of her job, probably similar to the customer service voice she sometimes notices herself slip into on her particularly difficult flights - but Maggie can see the unasked question hovering in depths of her eyes when Alex curls her palms at the edge of the bar and leans in. Maggie doesn’t really have an answer, it’s just the way the job is, so she opts for a different route.
“Miss me, Danvers?”
She just barely holds back her laughter when Alex’s eyes shift as she squirms.
“Pfft. In your dreams.” Maggie finds it adorable that the cool, collected, sometimes standoffish bartender is flustered by her teasing. It makes her want to do it again.
Taking a sip of her beer to hide the smile threatening to crack across her face, Maggie hums against the mouth of the bottle, giving herself a beat so she can enjoy the full effect her response will (hopefully) have on Alex.
“Sometimes.”
The flush that creeps up Alex’s neck is the best thing Maggie’s seen all day.
A couple of people walk in and Alex is pulled away to take their order. In the time it takes for her to make their drinks, Maggie’s finished her beer. As much as she wants to stay and talk with Alex, she’s been up since 6 a.m. and midnight is rapidly approaching. Tossing a 20 onto the bar next to her empty bottle, Maggie stands and gathers her belongings for her short trek upstairs. Just as she grabs the handle of her rolling bag, Alex steps back over to her end of the bar, taking the empty and tossing it in the bin underneath.
“Calling it a night?”
Maggie isn’t sure if she actually hears a hint of disappointment in Alex’s voice or if it’s just wishful thinking on her part.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m exhausted.” She genuinely is sorry. But right now she’s so exhausted she’s teetering on the edge of cranky and the last thing she wants to do is become bad company.
“No, of course,” Alex says with a shake of her head and Maggie gives her as much of a smile as she can muster as she turns towards the exit.
She’s nearly out of earshot when she hears Alex’s voice call out.
“When do you leave?”
Maggie stops, heels scuffing at the floor when she turns over her shoulder.
“Tomorrow,” she says, and it’s a testament to her exhaustion that she honest to god almost pouts. She has to bite at the inside of her lips to prevent it from forming fully.
“Ah,” Alex nods in acknowledgement. The accompanying smile is dimmer than before. “Sleep well. Safe travels.”
Maggie’s own smile feels just as weak.
“See you ‘round, Danvers.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sawyer, but we’re completely booked.”
Maggie looks at the clock behind the check-in desk and reminds herself murder is a felony.
Six hours since she left. Two hours since the sun set.
Thirty minutes since her supervisor told her Sorry, Maggie. It’ll be at least 24 hours until we can get another plane out. Take the day and keep your receipts.
Fuck this stupid fucking snow and winter and this shutdown and just…
Fuck everything.
“Are you sure? No one checking out late tonight?” She already knows the answer, but she silently begs the universe for a different response.
“No,” the desk attendant - Ashley, her name tag says - informs her crisply. Probably annoyed that Maggie has asked her basically the same question twice in the three minutes she’s been here. “There are a few hotels in the area. Would you like their numbers to call and check their availability?”
Maggie knows that’s not Ashley’s job and she’s already annoyed her enough so with as much of a smile as she can muster, she shakes her head, thanks the girl for her time, and drags her feet toward the bar.
She’ll look up the hotels in a few minutes she just...really needs a drink.
It’s like deja vu when she settles onto the creaky leather of the barstool for a second night in a row. The only difference is the snow currently melting inside the toes of her work pumps making them even more uncomfortable than they were yesterday.
They land with twin thunks somewhere on the floor beneath her and she would laugh at the image of her wet toed stockings if she weren’t so fucking annoyed.
It’s six o'clock in a sold out hotel bar on the cusp of a winter storm when the only thing that could make this situation even remotely positive walks through the door.
Alex’s boots squeak on the shiny floor as she steps behind the bar, quietly greeting the other bartender she’s relieving, pulling off her knit hat and shaking out her hair. She steps through a door into the back, probably to put away her bag and coat, and Maggie watches in amusement as Alex steps back out behind the bar with a small frown. It’s not exactly crowded yet, but getting there, so it takes her a moment to notice Maggie. When she does, Maggie almost snorts at the way Alex stops in her tracks.
She recovers quickly though, pushing up her sleeves and bending to wash her hands in the sink as she speaks.
“Water?”
“I’d rather have something a little stronger, if you don’t mind,” Maggie says.
Alex looks up from where she’s toweling her hands dry.
“Don’t you have a plane to catch?” The arch of her brow is impressive and would probably be as intimidating as she’s sure Alex wants it to be if not for the fact that Maggie has seen stumbling, awkward Alex enough times to be nothing more than amused.
Maybe a little aroused.
It’s been a long day. Sue her.
“I did about,” Maggie starts, glancing at her watch before she continues. “Four hours ago. But now I’m stuck here and I’d like something with tequila in it. Please.”
Alex smiles at her then, small but genuine, and Maggie rests her chin in her hands as she leans against the bar to watch Alex mix her drink.
Alex sets her drink on a coaster and slides it to her with a quick smile before stepping over to take care of a few other patrons. Maggie takes a slow sip of her drink, savoring the burst of flavor on her tongue, and reaches into her pocket for her phone.
Heaving a deep sigh, she opens google maps and types “hotel.”
Here goes.
By the time Alex walks back over to her end of the bar, Maggie has called all 7 hotels within walking distance and received the same response every time.
Nothing is available.
She’s internally debating whether or not she should try some that are further away when Alex grabs her empty glass and starts mixing another drink.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, and Maggie realizes she’s frowning at her phone. “Was the drink not good? I can make you something else.”
“No. The drink was delicious. Thank you,” Maggie assures her, looking up from her phone so Alex can see Maggie’s telling the truth. “It’s just every hotel in this city is apparently full.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Alex says, and Maggie couldn’t agree more. “Did you check at the desk? No last minute cancellations or anything?”
“No,” Maggie sighs. “Unless you can work your magic on Ashley, looks like I’m S.O.L.”
Alex coughs and her cheeks are a bit red and Maggie isn’t sure what could’ve caused that reaction until it dawns on her.
“Already worked your magic on Ashley?” Maggie teases.
Alex rolls her eyes but doesn’t reply, just goes about her job, taking orders and mixing drinks with an effortlessness Maggie is slightly envious of. Maggie occupies herself checking more of the surrounding area for hotel vacancies. She’s in the middle of deciding if she could get away with sleeping on the couch in the lobby when Alex interrupts her train of thought.
“You could stay with me.”
Maggie’s neck cracks lightly with how quickly she snaps her eyes to Alex, shocked by the offer. She and Alex know each other fairly well for two people who only see each other for a few hours once every month or so. They know each other’s last names. She knows Alex is a student who bartends for extra cash. Alex knows she’s a flight attendant. But that’s basically it. Asking to stay over or being invited to do so never would've crossed Maggie’s mind.
“Unless...weird. That would be weird. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
There’s a self-deprecating, wild sort of look in Alex’s eyes and discomfort in her voice and Maggie realizes she’s basically just been staring at Alex instead of responding.
“No, that’s-” Maggie trails off as she tries to think of what to say. “That’s so generous but I couldn’t impose.”
Alex’s face relaxes and Maggie lets out a slow breath.
“It’s really no problem. I close tonight, but as long as you don’t mind sticking around, you can come home with me.”
Before Maggie can even form a reaction to that phrasing, Alex’s eyes go wide and Maggie has to bite at her lip to prevent her laughter from escaping.
“Not, like, come home with me , come home with me, just…”
She trails off as Maggie loses the battle with her laughter and Alex shoots her a frown when it comes spilling out.
“Ok. Make fun of the woman who offered you shelter from the bitter storm,” Alex grumbles, but she purses her lips in a barely contained smile.
“I’m sorry,” Maggie says, the tail end of her mirth clinging to the words. She puts a hand over Alex’s wrist where she’s wiping at a non-existent smudge on the bar top to get her attention.
“That would be amazing,” she continues, squeezing Alex’s wrist once, making sure to meet her eyes. “Thank you. Really.”
Alex’s face is carefully blank, but there’s a shimmer in her eye that wasn’t there before, and she nods once as she turns away, her quiet no problem only registering after she’s already gone.
Last call is 1:45 and since the bar emptied out a while ago, Alex starts closing out the register. Maggie’s been passing the time intermittently talking to Alex between customers, playing games on her phone, and people watching, but she feels useless now watching Alex clean up just sitting there.
Pocketing her phone, Maggie reluctantly steps back into her shoes and pushes up from her seat.
“How can I help?”
Alex, mouthing along silently as she counts the money in the drawer, pauses and turns over her shoulder.
“I got it.”
“Let me earn my keep, Danvers,” Maggie insists, rewarded by a smile and another impressive arch of Alex’s brow.
“Ok, um,” Alex trails off, looking around to see what’s left. “If you want to wipe the counter and put up the stools, that would be great.”
“Absolutely.”
Maggie gets to work, and by the time she’s finished with the stools, Alex is nearly done with the floors. As Alex slips into her coat and turns off the lights, Maggie grabs her belongings, bag trailing noisily behind her as they step into the otherwise silent lobby.
“I only live two blocks away,” Alex tells her as they step out onto the sidewalk. “Are you okay to walk?”
“Yep.” Maggie tucks herself as far into her coat as she can. Even with her long pants and scarf and gloves, the cold feels like it’s seeping into her bones.
And patent leather pumps aren’t exactly proper winter footwear.
They make it to the second crosswalk before Maggie slips on an icy patch of the sidewalk. She tries to catch herself on the handle of her suitcase which unsurprisingly does not work, and she’s all but prepared herself to meet the unforgiving, frozen ground when a hand fists the back of her jacket and keeps her on her feet.
“Fuck, I hate the snow.”
A peel of laughter, surprisingly bright and not at all what she’d expect, comes from somewhere to her right and Maggie tugs the side of her hood back to look at the source.
“You good?” Alex asks, mirth still dancing around her eyes.
“You saved my life,” Maggie breathes out, joking but also grateful, and she’s rewarded with another burst of laughter from Alex.
“That’s twice in one night. This whole knight in shining armor thing is a habit for you, huh?” She teases, falling back into the easy banter she’s used to with Alex.
Alex hums, and even though Maggie’s turned her attention back to watching where she’s stepping, she can hear a smile in the sound.
“Only for the most distressed damsels,” she fires back, and Maggie huffs.
“Ok, Rumplestiltskin. You can have my firstborn child and we’ll call it even.”
Maggie expects Alex to laugh, or scoff, or fire back a retort of her own, but there’s only silence for a few heavy beats that make Maggie wonder what she might have said wrong. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it though because the jingle of keys fills the void and Alex leads her up the steps of an old brownstone.
“We’re here.”
Alex lives on the third floor and Maggie tries to be as quiet as she can making her way up the creaky stairs. With her shoes and suitcase, she’s not sure she manages.
The inside of Alex’s apartment is simple. Minimalist, but with personal details that make it feel homey and warm. It’s not exactly what Maggie would have pictured Alex’s place to look like, but it’s close.
Not that she’s spent time picturing where Alex lives.
“Make yourself at home,” Alex says, hanging her own coat on the stand by the door. Maggie sheds her own outerwear and does the same.
Maggie takes off her shoes, wiggling her toes into the soft rug by the front door, and carries her luggage into the kitchen where Alex is filling two glasses with water from a pitcher.
“Mind if I use your bathroom?” She really wants to change and get her makeup off and she’s trying to be polite, but this is...awkward. It’s not every day she finds herself in the cozy apartment of a woman she sort of knows and also has a little bit of a crush on.
She’s just tired enough to admit that to herself, apparently.
“Not at all,” Alex says, gesturing towards the open door of what Maggie assumes is the apartment’s only bathroom. “There are extra towels under the sink.”
“Thanks.”
The bathroom door closes with a soft click and Maggie turns on the sink to drown out the silence. Bracing her hands on the edge of the porcelain, Maggie drops her head, rolling it on her neck to alleviate some of the tension that’s built up there.
Lifting back up, Maggie meets her own eyes in the mirror and takes stock of her appearance. Her make-up was definitely better 14 hours ago when she applied it, and she could use a little dry shampoo. She goes through an abbreviated nightly routine, thankful she actually packed pajama pants to sleep in even though she doesn’t usually.
The one perk of traveling to the northeast in the dead of winter, apparently.
Tucking her moisturizer back into her toiletry bag, Maggie checks herself in the mirror one last time, and steps back out into Alex’s apartment.
The woman in question is nowhere to be found, but her bedroom door is closed so Maggie takes a seat at one of the bar stools at the small kitchen island and helps herself to one of the glasses of water Alex poured earlier.
A drawn out creaking sound grabs Maggie’s attention and she turns over her shoulder to see Alex, arms full of a few pillows and blankets, stepping out of her bedroom and into the small living room.
Alex sets the bedding on the couch and walks over towards Maggie, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the island and raising her own water glass to her lips. Maggie takes in Alex’s appearance - checkered pajama bottoms, oversized sweatshirt, part of her hair clipped back on top of her head - and a stream of unwelcome words crosses her mind.
Adorable. Sexy. Soft. Beautiful.
Not that Alex isn’t all of those things, but still. Alex offered up her home. The least Maggie can do is not be a creep.
“Thank you again for this,” Maggie says softly. The apartment still too quiet to disturb. “I really appreciate it.”
Alex smiles, and the way her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners draws Maggie’s attention against her will.
“You can stop thanking me. I really don’t mind.”
“Everyone minds someone in their space, but ok. I won’t thank you anymore,” Maggie says, knowing she’s lying because she’s not sure she’ll ever stop thanking Alex for this.
“Ok,” Alex says with a nod. “Good.”
Maggie's glass is empty and Alex picks it up and deposits it in the sink along with her own. The legs of her chair skid against the floor when Maggie pushes back and she cringes a little at the sound. She follows Alex toward the living room, coming up short when Alex starts to set up the blankets and the pillows on the couch.
“I can do that,” Maggie offers, not wanting Alex to go to more trouble than she already has.
“You can take my bed.” Alex doesn’t look up, just keeps tucking the sheet into the back of the couch cushions.
“No. Absolutely not,” Maggie insists. She already feels badly enough, she’s not going to kick Alex out of her own bed.
“Maggie, really. You’ve had a rough couple of days,” Alex says, finally standing and turning to look at Maggie now that she’s satisfied with how the couch is made. “Take the bed.”
“No.”
“There are clean sheets on it.”
“There are-” Maggie stops, taken aback that that’s what Alex assumes she’s objecting to. “Alex. I’m not taking your bed.”
“Well I’m not letting you sleep on this couch. You’re short, but it’s small even for you.”
Her attempt to goad Maggie into a bickering match isn’t going to work.
“If it’s too small for me it’s definitely too small for you,” Maggie points out, sure that she’s won at this point.
“Fine,” Alex says, seeming genuinely exasperated, and Maggie celebrates internally. Right up until Alex speaks again.
“We can share my bed then.”
Maggie is sure she’s gaping like a fish, and Alex’s face goes through about three expressions Maggie can’t identify. They hover in silence a moment, just staring at each other, until Alex continues.
“If you won’t let me sleep on the couch, and I won’t let you sleep on the couch, then we can share the bed.”
Maggie may have read this romance novel before. We’re stuck in this cabin and there’s only one bed. Whatever shall we do?
Much more exciting for imaginary characters than it is for Maggie in this moment in real life.
“Uh, ok. Sure.”
That seems to take Alex by surprise if the way her jaw unhinges in any indication.
“Right,” Alex says, clearing her throat and turning towards the door. “Ok.”
Maggie’s body seems to be moving of its own volition and the sight of a queen sized bed doesn’t do anything to calm the tension gripping her spine. Not that she expected Alex to have anything bigger, just…
Maggie’s not sure she’s going to get any sleep at all tonight.
She notices there are only two pillows on the bed and remembers the others are still on the couch. Thanking the universe for this moment to get herself together, she utters something stupid about pillows and couch and be right back .
Forcing herself to walk instead of sprint, Maggie manages to make it to the couch without tripping over her own feet. Leaning over, she picks up one pillow, then the other, and hugs them tightly to her chest. She could stay out here. She could put the pillows down, crawl under the blanket, and jokingly call out to Alex, say something about getting her way after all.
She’s not sure why she does it, but turning on her heel, Maggie makes her way back to Alex’s room, heart pounding against the soft down pillows the whole way.
Alex is sitting on the edge of the bed, sweatshirt discarded in favor of a tank top, which Maggie has absolutely no reaction to and no opinion on. She plugs her phone into a charging cord and sits it on the end table closest to her side. Maggie is acutely aware of the rug brushing against the soles of her feet as she walks to the bed and arranges her pillows. Following Alex’s lead, Maggie stands by the side of the bed until Alex pushes off of her side, turns, and pulls down the comforter and sheets. Maggie mimics Alex’s actions on her own side and when Alex slides under the covers, Maggie holds her breath and does the same.
She shouldn’t be this awkward. She’s shared a bed plenty of times.
Just maybe not with women she hasn’t already slept with.
Leaning back carefully, Maggie rests her head on the pillows and folds her hands neatly on top of the covers. She probably looks like a fucking corpse, but she has no idea what the hell else to do.
The bed shifts and Maggie can see Alex’s silhouette in her periphery leaning over to turn off the lamp. The room is cast in a cool blue, long dark shadows on the walls where the moonlight glow off the snow paints everything in darkness and light.
She feels Alex settle into stillness next to her and Maggie breathes for the first time in what feels like hours. Turning her head to look at the other woman, Maggie finds Alex on her stomach, face towards the windows and away from Maggie. It’s too quiet, but Maggie focuses on her breathing, using some mindfulness tools to try to trick her body into sleep. Just when she’s focusing on the feel part of hear-see-taste-smell-feel, Alex’s voice whispers in the quiet.
“Night, Maggie.”
Another thank you is on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it.
“Goodnight.”
Maggie comes out of her dream with a start, eyes flying open and chest tight in the way it only ever is after a particularly unsettling nightmare. Being in an unfamiliar place doesn’t help and she puts a hand on her chest, the other on her stomach as she concentrates on deep, even breaths, in through her nose and out through her mouth until her head clears a bit.
She doesn’t even have time to worry about waking Alex before the bed shifts and Maggie sees the lump to her right start to move.
She doesn’t want Alex to see her on the verge of a panic attack so she closes her eyes, hoping Alex is just shifting in her sleep and pretending to do the same.
“Maggie?”
Maggie just squeezes her eyes tightly shut and doesn’t respond. But sleeping bodies don’t hyperventilate or have scrunched up faces or do breathing exercises, so all she really hopes for is it being to dark for Alex to see.
“Hey. Maggie.” Alex’s voice is firm now, a bit louder but still rough with sleep. Something warm cups her shoulder and Maggie can’t help that she flinches, realizing it’s Alex’s hand a moment too late.
She can’t really sell the sleeping thing anymore so she opens her eyes, picking a spot on the ceiling to talk to.
“I’m fine.”
The bed dips at her right side and Maggie’s body tilts with the motion. Alex is propped up on her elbow, looking down into Maggie’s face even as Maggie studiously avoids her gaze.
Alex doesn’t say anything, just watches, and it makes Maggie uneasy. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Her therapist is an expert at it. So is Alex, apparently.
She only lasts a few more breaths before she breaks. Turning her head to look at Alex, she keeps her hands at her chest and stomach to track her breathing even as she speaks.
“Just a nightmare. It happens. I’m fine, really,” she breathes, trying to sound sincere. “Go back to sleep.”
Alex drops back down onto her pillows, facing Maggie this time, and Maggie can feel Alex watching her, but she goes back to her spot on the ceiling and counts out her exhale.
Visualization is something she’s working on and after a few minutes, she imagines the panic seeping out of her through her fingers and toes in winding streams. Her chest doesn’t tremble every time she inhales now and she feels her spine lengthen as she relaxes slightly.
“My sister used to have nightmares.”
Alex’s voice breaks the quiet gently, soft and slow in a way that doesn’t make Maggie panic anew. She doesn’t want to talk, but Alex’s voice is soothing and she doesn’t mind listening, so she turns onto her side, meeting Alex’s eyes and giving her silent permission to continue.
“She’s adopted. Came to us with PTSD and used to have nightmares all the time.”
Alex curls one hand under her pillow, and her eyes shift up and to the right like she’s looking for a memory.
“Her room was right next to mine and I could hear her sometimes. Crying. But I was so useless,” she says on a self-deprecating huff. “I had no idea how to do any of that maternal stuff.”
The room is still dark, but Alex’s eyes shimmer when she continues.
“She’s always been braver than me, though, and one night my door cracked open and she just...crawled right into bed with me. Grabbed my hand and held it to her chest while she cried.”
Alex’s right hand curls into a fist around a handful of her own shirt.
“I had no idea what to do so I just talked to her. About anything. And eventually she fell asleep again.”
Maggie closes her own eyes at that, trying not to feel jealous and wondering if her sister knows how lucky she is to have Alex. Nobody’s ever done anything like that for Maggie.
Until now.
“So I’m just going to keep talking to you until you fall asleep.”
For the second time that night, Maggie squeezes her eyes closed as tightly as she can. Except this time, she’s trying to stop them from stinging.
She listens to Alex talk about science, and surfing, and a slew of other things as her voice grows softer and softer and eventually tapers off.
She’s not quite asleep - just dangling in the inbetween - when she feels something brush across her forehead. She opens her eyes just in time for a shiver to run down the side of her neck as Alex tucks her hair behind her ear.
Alex is tracking the movement of her own hand and Maggie gets a moment to take in her expression, soft and sleepy, until Alex looks back to find Maggie’s eyes open and jerks her hand away like she’s been burned.
Her eyes are wide and her body is as stiff as it was when they first got into bed and Maggie doesn’t want any of it so she reaches for Alex’s hand where it hovers in the air between them and pulls it into her chest.
She’s pleased to see Alex’s face relax, but her eyes search Maggie’s for something unknown. Maggie’s eyes are heavy from exhaustion and Alex’s voice so she lets them close, tugging Alex’s hand more tightly into her.
The steady stroke of Alex’s thumb over her knuckles finally drags her back under.
She wakes before Alex does in the morning, bright rays of sunlight streaking across her face between the blinds, Alex’s fingers loosely intertwined with her own between them on the bed.
She lies still and takes it all in. Alex is on her stomach again, but her right arm is bent between them in a way that can’t be comfortable, hair flopping across her face and more red than usual in the morning sun.
Maggie would lie there all day, but her body has other ideas so she untangles her hand from Alex’s as carefully as she can and quietly steps out of the bedroom.
She doesn’t bother with her clothes yet - the clock on the microwave says 7:30 so she’s got plenty of time - just brushes her teeth, relieves herself, and goes in search of the coffee machine she’s sure Alex has around here somewhere.
She brews two mugs, but she can’t find any creamer or sugar so she assumes Alex takes her coffee black. Stepping around the island, Maggie turns the corner towards the bedroom and nearly collides with the woman in question.
“Oh, sorry,” Alex says, adorably sleep rumpled. She’s obviously in the same clothes she wore the night before, but standing face to face in the daylight, some things are more...um...prominent than they were in the dark.
It takes Alex’s brain a moment to catch up with the rest of the world and it isn’t until she looks Maggie up and down that she must realize her own state of dress becase her whole body goes still and she all but trips over herself to get back to her bedroom.
She emerges a moment later, tugging her sweatshirt down around her hips and Maggie tries not to be disappointed. Keep it in your pants, Sawyer.
“Here,” she says, thrusting one of the mugs out towards Alex. Their fingers brush when Alex grabs the handle and the moment is charged in ways it shouldn’t be when their eyes meet.
“Thanks,” Alex says quietly. “Um. Breakfast?”
“Sure.”
Alex manages to find half a box of pancake mix and Maggie leans against the counter, sipping at her coffee as she watches Alex gather the necessary materials.
It doesn’t become clear until Alex begins digging through her cabinets for a measuring cup and mixing bowl, that pancakes may not be the best idea.
“Anything I can help with?” Maggie asks, trying to hide her smile behind her mug when Alex turns around with a huff.
“Is it that obvious that I’ve never done this before?”
“Kinda. Yeah,” Maggie scrunches her nose when Alex rolls her eyes and they both dissolve into laughter.
“I’m sorry. The only thing worse than my cooking skills are my hosting skills apparently,” Alex jokes, and Maggie laughs along.
“I’m going to have to disagree with the hosting part.” And she means it. Alex has been wonderful. She’s so grateful that of all the places she could be right now, this is where she ended up.
Alex looks at her, still smiling, but blushing slightly under the praise, so Maggie sets down her mug and walks over to the stove.
“I happen to be a pancake expert,” she says jokingly. “Let me make you breakfast. Since I’m not allowed to say thank you anymore,” she finishes, looking at Alex and daring her to argue.
“Ok,” Alex acquiesces with a smile, stepping back from the stove and letting Maggie take over. “I’m just going to freshen up.”
Maggie nods, already searching through the cabinets for what she needs.
The last pancake slides out of the pan and onto the stack twenty minutes later. Behind her, Alex is sitting on the island, legs lightly swinging back and forth as she watches Maggie switch off the burner and divide the pancakes onto two plates.
“Favorite professional sport to watch?”
They’ve been asking questions back and forth since Alex came back into the kitchen and hopped up onto the counter.
“Baseball,” Maggie answers distractedly, handing Alex her plate and fork and leaning back against the edge of the sink across from the other woman as they both dig in to their meal.
“Favorite team?” Maggie fires back.
“Dodgers.”
“Not the Red Sox?” Maggie asks, genuinely curious why Alex would root for a team based on the opposite side of the country.
“Hell no.” Maggie chokes a bit as she laughs at the emphatic response. “I’m from Midvale. Home team pride and all that.”
“Midvale, California?” Maggie asks, a bit shocked. How did she not know this?
“Yep.” The way Alex dances a bit as she takes a bite of her pancakes makes Maggie’s heart swell. Adorable .
“How’d you end up in Boston?”
“Isn’t that, like, your third question a row?” That damn eyebrow lifts towards Alex’s hairline again.
“You can have three in a row next. Answer the question, Danvers.”
Alex smiles and it really shouldn’t affect Maggie the way it does.
“Moved here for school. They have the best PhD program.”
Maggie almost inhales the bite of food she’s chewing.
“PhD?” She doesn’t mean to sound shocked. She knows Alex is smart. She’s just...super impressed.
“Yeah. Student by day, bartender by night,” Alex jokes, but Maggie won’t have it.
“Wow. Impressive,” she says, and she means it.
Alex squirms under the praise and deflects Maggie’s attention with a question of her own.
“What about you,” she starts, sitting her empty plate on the counter next to her and leaning forward onto her palms, fingers curling around the edge of the counter next to her legs. “How’d you become a flight attendant?”
The ceramic clinks against the metal when Maggie sits her own empty plate in the sink, buying herself some time and deciding how honest she’s going to be. She crosses her arms over her chest, a bad habit she never really curbed, and looks up at Alex.
“It was the fastest I could get away from home. And the farthest.”
The easy happiness that has been present on Alex’s face all morning dims like Maggie knew it would, and she regrets sharing immediately.
“Oh,” Alex breathes, and there’s a moment’s pause where Maggie is sure she’ll change the subject. But Alex surprises her. “Where was home?”
The question is almost cautious, like Alex isn’t sure she should ask. Maggie doesn’t know what it is about Alex that makes her willing to share parts of her that not many other people have seen, but she tries to ignore her gut instinct to pull back and plows ahead instead.
“Blue Springs, Nebraska.” Maggie says the name with all the contempt she feels and Alex doesn’t exactly recoil, but Maggie can tell her tone takes her by surprise. She’s already said too much so she tries to lighten the mood. “I never take assignments to Omaha if I can help it.”
She meant to be a joke, but Alex doesn’t take the bait.
“Why?” Her voice is all curiosity and Maggie knows there’s no malicious intent, but she’s still reluctant to answer. Of course Alex picks up on her hesitation.
“I’m sorry, that was invasive. You don’t have to answer.”
Something in Maggie’s chest loosens. Twice in one day Alex has comforted her when she’s had no real obligation to and it makes Maggie feel safe in a way she hasn’t in a while.
“I came out when I was 14. Lived with my homophobic parents til I was 18. Found the biggest hub I could as far away as I could and never looked back.” It’s not the whole story, but it’s as much as she can do for now.
Alex doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with an expression Maggie can’t decipher, and she feels like she’s under a microscope until Alex talks again.
“Most embarrassing lesbian disaster moment.”
An honest to god bark of laughter tears through Maggie’s chest and she covers her mouth with a hand to smother it. Alex is looking very proud of herself, eyes twinkling and a smile that’s all teeth.
“I don’t know, Danvers,” she says, still laughing. “Don’t wanna lose my street cred.”
“I’ll show you mine, you show me yours?” Maggie’s lesbian disaster brain definitely likes the sound of that, and something about the mischief in Alex’s eyes makes her give in with a nod.
“When I was little, I asked my mom’s coworker to marry me. Hand drawn crayon picture and everything. And when she told me she couldn't because she was already married, I told her I could get rid of him for her.”
“No!” Maggie gasps and when Alex nods, Maggie dissolves into full-on giggles.
“I didn’t know what it sounded like at the time!” Alex is laughing even as she defends herself. “Luckily she thought it was funny. She still has the pictures hanging in her office and points them out to me whenever I’m there.”
Maggie wipes under her eyes and her side hurts a little.
“The worst part is I was in denial for so long. I didn’t come out until I was 26, which makes it that much funnier.”
“You’re kidding,” Maggie says.
“No. I think everyone knew, but me,” Alex admits with a shrug. “I mean, I knew , but I wasn’t ready to admit it, you know?”
Maggie’s nodding before Alex is even finished speaking. Everything about the woman across from her is surprising and endearing. And all Maggie wants is to know more.
“Ok, your turn.”
Maggie considers for a moment, not wanting to get back into anything too heavy and also not wanting to back off of...whatever this is with Alex. She has to play this right and make sure she doesn’t make things uncomfortable. But she’s leaving here soon and she never has to come back if it goes horribly wrong so gathering her courage, Maggie takes her chance.
“There’s this woman I see occasionally when I travel. Nothing crazy, just every so often, and I have this ridiculous crush on her.” Maggie pauses, trying to read Alex’s face to see if she could continue. Alex is listening intently, head tilted sideways in this adorable way she does sometimes, but her expression is somewhere between intrigued and...sad? Maggie’s not sure.
Pushing off where she was leaning against the counter, Maggie stands up, unfolds her arms and takes a small step towards where Alex is seated at the island. It’s not a large gap between the two, but Maggie doesn’t want to pressure her so she doesn’t move any closer.
“She even invited me to come home with her last night.”
Alex’s back straightens, eyes absolutely boring into Maggie’s, but she says nothing.
“Was a complete gentleman. Offered me her bed. Helped me off the edge of a panic attack.” Alex’s face gets more and more desperate as Maggie continues, but she doesn’t know what kind of desperation it is. Is it I can’t believe you’re putting me in this position in my own house how dare you desperate? Or is it please kiss me right now desperate? Maggie thinks that on Alex they probably look annoyingly similar.
“But I’m not sure if she’s interested.” She’s basically standing right in front of Alex now, just close enough that if Alex wanted to reach for her, she could.
She’s shown her hand, so she looks at Alex, and she waits.
The wait is excruciating for the few seconds it lasts. Alex has this way of looking at her that makes Maggie feel like she can see every last molecule of her being.
“That doesn’t sound like a disaster,” Alex whispers, her voice raspy and almost all breath.
“No?” Maggie questions, taking another step forward until she’s standing between Alex’s knees where she’s seated on the island.
“I’d say she’s probably interested.” Alex’s eyes flick back and forth between Maggie’s as she speaks.
“Probably or definitely?” Maggie asks softly, taking a final step into Alex’s space and curling her hands over Alex’s knees.
“Definitely,” Alex breathes, and Maggie slides her palms up the outsides of Alex’s thighs and she feels Alex’s fingers thread through her hair as she brings their mouths together.
The fleshy curves of Alex’s hips give under Maggie’s fingers as she squeezes and Alex moans into her mouth and their kiss goes from zero to sixty in an instant. The slide of her tongue along Alex’s bottom lip is accompanied by the sweep of her hands up Alex’s back underneath her shirt. She doesn't want to stop kissing Alex, but she needs to make sure this is ok, so she compromises and breathes her question against Alex’s lips.
“Is this ok?”
Alex’s thumbs stroke over the shells of Maggie’s ears in tandem and the chill of a shiver fans from Maggie’s scalp to her fingertips. The sensation is almost overwhelming and she distracts herself mouthing across Alex’s jaw and down her neck as she awaits her answer.
“What part of definitely was unclear?” Alex breathes above her and Maggie nips at the skin under her teeth, enjoying Alex’s gasp and the groan that follows.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” Maggie demands, soothing the mark she left with a slide of her tongue.
“Not likely.” Alex moans when Maggie drags her fingernails down the length of her back and amends her answer. “Ok, ok,” she says, fisting her hands in Maggie’s hair at the base of her skull and Maggie groans her approval into the soft skin where Alex’s neck meets her shoulder.
She can only get so far with Alex’s hoodie in the way and she grunts, fisting the hem of Alex’s sweatshirt and pulling up.
“Take this off,” she commands, lips dragging along the underside of Alex’s jaw until the last possible moment when she has to pull away as Alex tears the garment off and over her head.
Her tank top goes with it leaving Alex gloriously bare from the waist up and Maggie can’t help but stare. She’s been thinking about this since Alex stepped out of her bedroom this morning and with Alex perched on the counter, Maggie is the perfect height to appreciate her breasts.
She must have been staring too long, because Alex lifts her arms as if to cover herself, but Maggie catches her wrists before she can, leans in to press her lips to Alex’s once more.
“You’re so gorgeous,” she whispers, opening her eyes and hoping Alex can read the sincerity there.
Releasing Alex’s wrists, Maggie snakes her arms around Alex’s sides, fingers tingling at the warmth of Alex’s bare skin. With one last peck on the lips, Maggie moves on to the as yet unexplored right side of Alex’s neck and slides her hands down, over the small of her back, and settles her palms, fingers splayed, over the curves of Alex’s ass.
She feels more than hears the moan the rumbles through Alex’s throat and squeezes, pulling Alex closer to the edge of the counter and flush to her chest. Following the path of Alex’s collarbone with her tongue, Maggie kisses the dip of her throat once.
Maggie can feel the warmth between Alex’s legs through her pants as Alex’s hips roll into Maggie’s stomach and it nearly makes her brain white out. She digs her fingers into Alex’s ass - not to guide her movements, just to feel - and bends to take one of Alex’s nipples into her mouth.
The whine that pierces the air makes Maggie painfully aware of the wetness probably soaking through her own underwear, but she thinks she could spend the rest of her life just doing this.
Alex is so responsive. Maggie flicks at her nipple a few times with the tip of her tongue, loving the way she can feel the muscles of Alex’s stomach twitching in response, before biting down lightly with her teeth.
Switching to Alex’s other breast, Maggie brings her right hand around to Alex’s stomach, thumbing over the divot of her navel before scraping her nails along the skin just above the waistband of Alex’s pants. She drags her open mouth in a circle around Alex’s nipple, almost but not quite touching, and dips to suck a mark into the underside of Alex’s breast as she hooks three of her fingers behind the elastic. She’s about to ask permission, but the fingers in her hair tighten, holding her in place.
“Please,” Alex pants, gasping when Maggie uses her teeth. “Yes. Don’t stop.”
Maggie doesn’t need to be told twice. She turns her palm out, and dips her hand into Alex’s pants.
This time, she’s the one groaning when instead of settling on top of the fabric of Alex’s underwear like she’d expected, her fingers meet bare skin.
“Fuck, Alex,” she bites out, lips catching and dragging against the other woman’s skin. “Have you been like this the whole time?”
Her baser instincts are in full control and she knows it’s ridiculous but...she needs to know. If Alex has been without underwear this whole time-
“Yes.”
Alex’s answer is a hiss and Maggie has no response. Instead she disconnects from Alex’s breast with a wet pop, surges up to take her lips in a filthy kiss, and drags two fingers through the wetness between Alex’s legs.
“Tell me what you like,” she whispers against Alex’s lips, too close for her face to come into focus, but not daring to close her eyes.
“You. I like you,” she whines, hips rolling into the pressure of Maggie’s fingers on her clit, and Maggie’s heart bursts at her words. “Please. Just touch me.”
Alex is a little too far gone to return Maggie’s kiss properly, so they end up more or less panting into one another’s mouths. Maggie rubs wide circles around Alex’s clit, narrowing when Alex’s fingernails dig into her neck and her hips stutter.
“Inside,” Alex groans, and Maggie guides her fingers down, dipping in gently twice before pushing forward.
She goes slowly at first, wanting to give Alex time to adjust, but Alex hisses out a rough yes , hips rolling into the pressure of Maggie’s fingers, and pulls Maggie’s head into her shoulder.
Maggie tucks her nose into the dip of Alex’s neck, mouthing her way up until she can tongue at the place behind Alex’s ear that pulls a whine from her and makes her flutter around Maggie’s fingers. The grip in her hair is borderline painful, but Maggie doesn’t think she could stop if she wanted to.
Curling upwards, Maggie presses the pads of her fingers more firmly into Alex’s front wall and twists her wrist until she can swipe her thumb over Alex’s clit. Her forearm starts to cramp slightly, but Alex clenches hard around her the faster she moves her thumb. Pressing against the clutch of Alex’s arms around her, Maggie lifts her head until her lips are pressed directly against the shell of Alex’s ear.
“You feel so fucking good,” she breathes out, rewarded by another groan from Alex and doubling down her efforts between her legs. “Come on. Come for me.”
A few more curls of her fingers and swipes of her thumb and Alex is shuddering in her arms. She clamps down around Maggie's fingers once, hard, and then Maggie feels the rhythmic pulses of Alex’s orgasm through her whole arm.
Alex’s breathing is rough and noisy, sighs and moans hanging on the ends of each exhale and Maggie works her through it. She can feel the evidence of Alex’s pleasure dripping into her palm and down her wrist.
To say she’s proud would be an understatement.
Her wrist is still rolling when Alex’s hips jump violently, and pressure releases at the base of Maggie’s skull when Alex reaches down and grabs Maggie’s arm to still her.
Pulling away from the warm cove of Alex’s neck, Maggie looks up into Alex’s face as she pulls out as gently as she can. Alex’s eyes are glassy and unfocused when they meet her own. She’s topless and flushed because Maggie made her come and Maggie just...has to kiss her.
Alex’s lips and tongue are clumsy and Maggie smiles into it, pressing her hands onto Alex’s thighs and lifting up onto her toes for a better angle. They kiss for a few moments, Maggie’s hands rubbing up and down the top of Alex’s thighs while Alex’s fingers comb through Maggie’s hair and down her neck. Alex breaks away, presses a soft kiss to the apple of Maggie’s cheek and cups her palms at Maggie’s neck.
Maggie blinks up at her, but her smile falls when she sees the frown on Alex’s face.
“That does not count as your lesbian disaster anecdote, I hope you know that.”
She sounds so serious, but Maggie can’t help but laugh, squeezing Alex’s legs once and delighting in the way Alex’s put-upon frown slowly transforms into a warm smile.
Alex hops down from the counter - Maggie tries very hard to keep her eyes on Alex’s face and mostly fails - and takes Maggie’s hand in hers as she walks backward in the direction of her bedroom, pulling Maggie along with her.
“Come on,” Alex says unnecessarily. There’s no chance of Maggie not following wherever she leads.
Alex pulls her across the threshold and guides Maggie to sit on the edge of the bed before she drops to her knees and hooks her fingers into Maggie’s waistband.
“Now it’s my turn to say thank you.”
It’s a thing they do now.
She flies to Boston. She stays with Alex - or Alex stays with her - and they have sex.
Maggie doesn’t question the arrangement. The sex is great - amazing usually - and she likes Alex. She’s not seeing anyone else, has no idea if Alex is or not, but she’s in no hurry to burst their bubble with that conversation.
And there’s the fact that she’s based on the other side of the country and Alex has a degree to finish 3,000 miles away. It’s one of the things she likes about her job, the easy excuse it makes when commitment gets too close for comfort.
Well. It’s something she used to like about her job, anyway.
She thinks now she’d spend all her time with Alex without a second thought, if she could.
It’s been four months since that day in Alex’s apartment when they’d crossed the line from friends to something more she doesn’t quite have a label for, and sitting across from Alex on the barstool she’s come to think of as hers, Maggie finds herself not wanting to leave.
Not just not wanting to leave, but actually wanting to stay.
Since she was a child, no one has ever made Maggie want to stay before, but somehow Alex Danvers is the exception to her every rule.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?”
The scrape of glass across the bar top interrupts her train of thought as Alex pushes a drink towards her.
“Nothing,” Maggie replies, and Alex raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“I actually wanted to ask you something,” Maggie starts hesitantly, watching Alex closely as she speaks to gauge her honest reaction. “I have a three-night here in a couple of weeks and was thinking about renting a car and driving down to Cape Cod. I’ve never seen it, and it would be before busy season. Not too hot either.”
“Oh, the Cape is beautiful. You should definitely go,” Alex says, and Maggie wants to shake her for being so obtuse.
“I was actually hoping you’d go with me.”
“Oh,” Alex breathes, pausing in restocking the glasses behind the bar and giving Maggie her full attention. “What are the dates?”
Maggie takes that as a sign that she’s not being completely shut down and rattles off the dates from memory.
Probably too quickly. She’s spent too much time thinking about this.
As soon as the last date leaves her mouth, Alex’s face goes blank and then falls a moment later, which throws Maggie for a loop. She’s not sure what that means.
“I can’t that weekend. It’s the weekend before my dissertation defense and I have to do final prep,” Alex says, her voice regretful and Maggie is relieved.
“Of course. I should’ve known.”
Alex smiles, a little tight around her eyes but mostly easy and Maggie is just glad this whole thing didn’t blow up in her face.
“I can barely keep track of my schedule, I don’t expect you to,” she assures, and Maggie smiles back, sipping up the last of the mojito Alex mixed for her just because she knows Maggie loves them.
Maggie reaches into the back pocket of her jeans and pulls out the extra keycard and a 20. She can feel the edges of the plastic card dig into her palm as she presses up onto her hands, toes pushing up off the foot rail so she can lean across the dark wood. Alex leans into the kiss when Maggie touches her lips to her cheek and Maggie pulls back smiling, slides the card and cash across the bar.
Alex picks up and pockets the card, but slides Maggie’s money back across the bar to her. A protest is on the tip of Maggie’s tongue, but Alex beats her to it.
“Drink’s on the house,” she insists, leaning across the bar top and pulling Maggie back into her orbit. “And you can tip me later.”
She punctuates the whisper with a wink and the quick press of her lips to Maggie’s smile.
Maggie almost steps down, but she can’t resist the opportunity to tease Alex a bit in return before she leaves.
“I was thinking more than just the tip, but whatever you want, Danvers.”
The impressive blush on Alex’s cheeks and the stammering that follows her as she turns to go tell her she definitely made the right choice.
A few weeks later, Maggie’s waiting at the gate for her plane to arrive. It’s late which means they will board late and arrive late and push back Maggie’s whole itinerary.
Water. She needs water and maybe some ibuprofen.
She’s walking towards the newsstand a few gates away when Maggie sees the one person on earth she was certain she wouldn’t be seeing this weekend.
“Alex?”
The sound of her name makes the other woman look up from her phone, her brisk walk coming to an abrupt stop when she notices Maggie.
Alex’s face is almost white. She looks panicked and something sinks like lead in Maggie’s chest at the sight.
“Maggie,” Alex breathes, fingers fidgeting at the handle of her rolling bag. The other passengers disembarking from the plane Maggie assumes Alex also just stepped off of divert around them and Maggie and Alex are left standing staring mutely at each other in the middle of the fray.
“What are you doing here?” Maggie asks. “I thought you had to prep for your dissertation?”
In lieu of an answer, Alex says, “I thought you were going to Cape Cod.”
“I am,” Maggie fires back, unable to keep the unspoken accusation out of her voice. I told you the truth. “Plane’s late.”
“Oh,” Alex says, still not answering Maggie’s earlier question, and the longer she’s silent, the more foolish Maggie feels.
Well, if Alex has nothing else to say then neither does she. She nods once and takes a step towards the newsstand, but Alex’s voice stops her in her tracks.
“Maggie, wait.”
“You know if you didn’t want to go, you could’ve just told me,” she says, spinning on her heel so she and Alex are face to face again. “I would’ve understood. You didn’t have to make up an excuse.”
“I wasn’t- I wanted…”
Alex’s response trails off and Maggie feels it like a punch to the gut.
“It’s fine, really. It’s just a casual thing,” she says, gesturing between them even as part of her cringes at the use of the word. Casual . “I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
Alex’s eyes are shiny and her mouth hangs open like she wants to say something, but her voice doesn’t come. Instead, her phone starts ringing where it’s still clutched in her hand.
Maggie watches as Alex looks at the phone, then back to Maggie, indecision clear in the set of her brow.
Maggie makes the decision for her.
“See you around, Danvers,” she says, turning and leaving Alex and her ringing phone behind.
When she walks back to her gate, water in hand, Alex is nowhere to be found.
Maggie takes her three days in Cape Cod. She finds a coffee shop with the best espresso she’s ever had this side of the Atlantic. She meets more dogs than she can count walking on the beach. She orders a pizza and eats the whole thing by herself listening to the waves crash on the shore just over the dunes behind her Airbnb.
She’s miserable the whole time. She was supposed to be doing all of this with Alex, or at least knowing Alex was nearby.
But now Alex is in her city and Maggie is here and the only thing she hates more than knowing Alex lied to her is knowing she has no right to feel that way.
Alex can see whomever she wants wherever she wants whenever she wants and Maggie’s not allowed to feel any type of way about it.
She contemplates texting Alex to apologize, but nothing she comes up with sounds genuine or casual and she’s too insecure to handle Alex’s response, whatever it may be.
She boards her flight to Baltimore from Logan on Sunday night. It’s 90 minutes; Maggie could do it in her sleep. As soon as she steps off the plane, she turns her phone on to order an uber to her hotel and notices three notifications. One is a voicemail from her downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Atkinson, letting her know her bonsai are doing fine and wishing Maggie a safe return home. The second is a confirmation text from her supervisor letting Maggie know that the three vacation days she requested next month have been approved. And the third is a text from Alex.
Her uber is two minutes away, so Maggie stares at the red dot, her brain running through all the scenarios she’s imagined over the last 72 hours. She waits until her bag is stowed in the trunk, slipping into the back seat and buckling her seatbelt before she presses her thumb to Alex’s name.
Hey Maggie. Hope you had a nice weekend. Are you still in Boston?
Maggie hates open ended texts like that, no matter who they’re from. She wishes people would let her know why they’re asking her a question before she answers. But things with Alex are already so up in the air she figures she has nothing to lose by answering honestly.
No. You still in NC?
She knows you can’t really imply tone via text, but she’s pretty sure Alex will be able to read the bitterness in her response.
Three grey dots blink up at her for a long time. Long enough that she checks into her hotel and makes it to her room and still there’s no message from Alex.
Tossing her phone onto the bed, Maggie goes about her nightly routine. Turning down the bed, Maggie picks up her phone and plugs it in to charge overnight. It chimes and lights up, and Maggie’s chest tightens at what she sees.
Alex Danvers
Voicemail
Alex Danvers
Missed Call
Slowly, she sits on the edge of the bed, unlocks her phone, and presses play.
Hey, um, it’s me. I wanted to talk to you about something. I, um-
There's a long pause, long enough that Maggie pulls the phone away to see if the voicemail had ended, but the little time lapse bar says there’s still 20 seconds left, so she holds it to her ear again.
I know you’re mad that I lied to you. I’m sorry. I just...want to talk to you about it.
There’s a ragged breath and what sounds like a sniffle on the other end and Maggie’s heart hurts against her better judgement, anger leaking out of her and concern for Alex taking its place.
Anyway, please call me.
The recording of Alex’s voice wavers and if Maggie’s eyes burn, she blames it on her current level of sleep deprivation.
I’m sorry.
Maggie can tell it’s the end of the message, but she holds the phone to her ear a moment longer, wishing Alex was in reach instead of a recording of her voice from a few hundred miles away.
There’s this force inside of her urging her to call Alex back right away, but she’s on the verge of tears as it is - frustration and exhaustion taking their toll on her - and she doesn’t want to cry.
So she sets her phone on the nightstand, slips under the sheets, and sleeps.
The next morning she tells herself it’s too early to call Alex back. Doesn’t want to wake her.
When she gets to the airport, she tells herself she doesn’t want to rush their conversation so she’ll wait til after her flight.
When she lands in National City, she tells herself she’d rather settle in for their talk in the comfort of her own home instead of in a noisy airport terminal.
When she gets home, she gets caught up in a conversation with Mrs. Atkinson.
At 7 p.m., she convinces herself Alex is working, and won’t be able to take her call anyway.
She makes excuses for three days. Then she calls her therapist.
Jessica has been her therapist since she moved to National City. Or since she moved to National City and got health insurance and could afford a therapist.
The couch she’s sitting on must be molded to Maggie’s body for as often as she finds herself here.
“What would you like to talk about today?” Jessica asks, and Maggie looks at her for a moment, not sure where to start.
“I’m not sure where to start,” she says honestly, and Jessica just looks at her. She has this way of maintaining eye contact that is so unsettling to Maggie, and she often finds herself blurting out what’s on her mind just to make the silence stop. And to give her an excuse to look away.
“I’m sort of...I guess I’m fighting with this woman I’ve been seeing?” Maggie phrases it as a question, not sure if fighting or seeing are entirely accurate.
Again, just the look from Jessica.
“I met her about two years ago. She bartends at the hotel I stay in when I’m in Boston and six months ago we sort of…” She trails off, and Jessica acknowledges her understanding with a small nod.
Maggie takes Jessica through all of it, feeling something loosen in her chest even as recounting the events of the last week make her feel slightly ill.
“So you didn’t want to DTR,” Jessica jokes, and Maggie huffs out a half hearted laugh. “And now you’re not sure what you’re relationship is.”
Maggie’s gaze drops to the floor, slightly embarrassed. It all sounds so fucking simple when you put it like that.
“Yeah,” Maggie admits. “And she lied to me and I felt betrayed even though I don’t really have a right to.”
“You have a right to your feelings,” Jessica reminds her and Maggie nods, not really believing it.
“I just mean she doesn’t owe me anything,” she tries to clarify.
“Regardless of your relationship with someone, honesty is not an unreasonable expectation.”
Maggie hadn’t quite thought about it like that, but she guesses that’s probably why she’s having a hard time letting go of her anger.
“Why do you think you haven’t called her back,” Jessica probes, and Maggie has to think for a few moments to get her words in order.
“I don’t want her to tell me something that’s going to...I don’t know. Upset me.” She means break me but that's a little melodramatic, even for her.
“What would that be?”
“That she doesn’t care about me. That we’re just friends with benefits. That she’s seeing someone else,” Maggie rattles off, just a few of the many scenarios she’s imagined that would ruin her.
“And what’s the alternative?” Jessica asks. “What happens if she tells you what you want to hear?”
“I don’t really know what I want to hear.”
Jessica does that thing again, and Maggie holds her eyes as long as she can, praying the woman will take pity on her and ask another question.
She doesn’t.
“I don’t really see any way that the things I want can happen,” she finally admits. “We live 3,000 miles apart. I mean, what’s the best case scenario? We see each other once a month for a day or two?”
Jessica doesn’t answer her, of course.
“And I still don’t know why she was here when she told me she had work to do. Maybe she has a girlfriend and I was just her exciting, fly by night hook up.”
Jessica looks at her for a long beat, and Maggie is pretty sure if they were friends having this conversation over coffee and not therapist and client, she might be on the receiving end of a lecture right now.
Instead, Jessica says, “The only person who can answer that question for you is Alex,” and that’s really the root of all this, isn’t it?
“I need to call her.”
No response.
Hi, this is Alex Danvers. Leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.
The beep comes way too fast and Maggie wishes she had written down what she wanted to say.
“Hey, it’s me, um, Maggie. I’m sorry for not calling sooner. Things have been...busy,” is what she settles on. “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be in town tomorrow night.”
Whether or not she called her supervisor and asked to be switched is neither here nor there. So what if she has two layovers and a plane change.
“I don’t know if you’re working, but maybe I’ll see you.”
She hasn’t said half of what she wanted to, but it feels suddenly stupid to be doing this any other way but face to face.
“Ok,” she says inanely. “Um. Bye.”
Her phone hits the floor with a sickening crack and she buries her face in her hands. This is ridiculous. She needs to get to get out of here. Now.
The loose cotton of her shirt clings to the thin layer of sweat along her spine as Maggie steps out of the airport and into the unseasonably warm night air.
She doesn’t have a rolling bag this time, just the clothes she’s wearing and a few essentials tucked into her backpack.
She’d called her supervisor on her way to the airport, a full 24 hours before she was supposed to report for her shift and asked to be changed again. Luckily Megan likes her and only gave Maggie a mildly difficult time before pulling some strings to find her a last minute seat on the early afternoon flight.
It’s late now, the usually bustling airport pleasantly calm as Maggie types the address of her hotel into the app.
5 minutes away. 9:45 arrival time at her destination.
The knots in her stomach tighten.
She’s apprehensive and cautiously hopeful and praying there will be a room available somewhere else if all goes horribly wrong.
She tosses a thank you over her shoulder as she climbs out of the car, the familiar facade of the building setting off a new wave of anxiety in her chest.
Stepping into the bar, all of the build up crashes at her feet.
There she is.
Alex.
She’s smiling and Maggie feels a matching smile tug at the corner of her own lips until she realizes what Alex is smiling at.
Or whom.
There’s a tall blonde leaning against the bar, talking animatedly with her hands and Maggie watches Alex’s smile light up her whole face, eyes squinting, head tilting back as the ringing of her laughter fills the air.
She wants to move. She’s not sure which way - towards or away - but Maggie’s feet are stuck and she just stands there waiting for the wreck to happen.
Sure enough, Alex turns to grab a glass from behind her, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter until she pivots back towards the bar and her eyes lock on Maggie.
Her face goes from happy to shocked so abruptly that even the blonde turns around to see what’s captured Alex’s attention.
And of course she’s fucking stunning. Of course she is.
“Maggie?”
It’s the sound of her name in Alex’s voice that sets her into motion.
Turning back in the direction she came from, Maggie’s pushing out through the second set of doors when she hears her name again.
“Maggie, wait!”
Knowing she can’t disappear fast enough, Maggie reminds herself that this is why she came in the first place, and stops in the middle of the sidewalk.
She turns towards the signature sound of Alex’s boots, and her traitorous heart swells in her chest. Alex looks beautiful. She always does, but her makeup looks especially nice tonight and the dark jeans and flowing tank top remind Maggie that she just came from a date.
The swelling in her chest disappears with a sharp stab.
“I shouldn’t have just shown up like this,” Maggie starts, and Alex shakes her head immediately.
“No, I’m glad you did. I just wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
So she did get Maggie’s voicemail.
“Yeah, clearly,” Maggie tries to joke, but it comes out sarcastic, and a crease forms between Alex’s eyebrows in response.
“What?” She’s not sure if Alex is being purposefully obtuse now or what, but she just wants this to be over.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your date.”
Alex squints at her, and in almost any other scenario, Maggie would find the ridiculousness of her expression hilarious. Especially when the lightbulb moment makes Alex’s eyes go comically wide.
“Date? I-” Alex stutters. “Maggie. That’s my sister.”
Now it’s Maggie’s turn to be confused. The hot blonde at the bar is Alex’s sister?
The relief she feels in that moment sweeps over her from head to toe and she’s not sure what to say to that, but Alex saves her.
“My dissertation defense was this morning. She’s in town for a few days. We’re celebrating.”
Suddenly Maggie feels like the biggest ass. They were friends first before everything else and she’s known about Alex’s defense presentation for months and she forgot. Didn’t even wish her luck.
“That’s right,” she starts, at a loss. “I’m so sorry I forgot. How’d it go?”
Alex just looks at her for a moment and once again Maggie wonders if Alex has ever considered a career as a talk therapist.
“I don’t really want to talk about that right now,” Alex says, not unkindly. Just matter-of-factly. “I’d rather know why you’re here. Clearly it’s not for work,” she says, acknowledging Maggie’s casual attire.
Maggie nods, takes a deep breath. This is why she came all this way. She can do this.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah, me too,” Alex says. “That’s why I texted. And called.”
She deserves that.
“Look, I just want to put my cards on the table. I like you. A lot. And I was hurt that you lied to me and I reacted badly. That’s on me. I’m sorry for that.” She says it almost in one breath, carefully maintaining eye contact even though all of her instincts - bad ones, admittedly - tell her to look away.
A shadow passes over Alex’s face, and Maggie keeps talking.
“I know I have no right to expect anything from you, and I’m working on it. I don’t expect us to go back to how it was before. And if you want me to leave, I will. I just didn’t want there to be anymore miscommunication.”
“Do you want to know why I was in National City?” Alex asks, face relaying absolutely zero information to Maggie.
“Yes, but only if you want to tell me.” She does want to know, badly, but Alex’s life is her own and Maggie is trying to manage her expectations.
“I had an interview.”
That’s not at all what she expected to hear, and it must take her too long to respond, because Alex keeps going.
“NCU recruited me. They want me to lead one of their new research teams.”
Her excitement for Alex overshadows her apparent inability to speak.
“Wow. Alex, that’s amazing.” She hopes Alex can tell how much she means it.
“Thanks,” Alex says, a smile pursing her lips as if against her better judgment.
“I was waiting to tell you,” she continues, and Maggie employs her active listening skills - take that, Jessica - and focuses on what Alex says without formulating a response. “It wasn’t a sure thing and I didn’t have a firm date for the interview until after you asked me to go away that weekend.”
Maggie believes her.
“I was hoping,” Alex starts, pausing to let out a slow breath, “that if I got the job, and I moved to National City-”
Maggie’s heart leaps inside her chest and she tells it to calm the hell down.
“-that we could, um, well that we could do this. For real.”
“Do this,” Maggie repeats slowly, not wanting to make any assumptions. Alex huffs and gestures between them with her hands.
“Yeah, this. Us.” Her shoulders are up around her ears and Maggie wants to rid her body of the tension in ways that are not at all appropriate for a public sidewalk in front of Alex’s place of work.
“Yes,” Maggie says, taking a step closer to what she wants.
“Yes?” Alex questions, clearly still unsure.
Maggie reaches out and curls her fingers at Alex’s elbows, drags them down her forearms until she can link their fingers.
“Alex, do you know how many nonstop flights there are from National City to Boston?”
“Um, no?” The crease between Alex’s brows is adorable and Maggie can’t help but smile up at her.
“Zero.”
Alex doesn’t say anything, just blinks back at her.
“Do you know how many indirect flights, how many 8 or 10 or 12 hour workdays I’ve requested since I started working?”
Alex barely has time to shake her head before Maggie continues.
“31,” she says, sliding her fingers through the gaps between Alex’s and holding on tight. “The number of times I’ve been here. With you.”
Alex’s eyes go glassy and Maggie really doesn’t want her to cry, but she’s not leaving anything to assumption anymore.
It’s time to say what she means.
“I want you with me. All the time.” Her voice breaks on that last part and she rolls her eyes and croaks out a watery laugh. She very nearly pouts when Alex lets go of her left hand, but then cool fingers brush across her cheek when Alex cups her face and Maggie leans into the touch, relishing the easy affection. She reaches up, covers Alex’s hand with her own and turns to press her lips to inside of Alex’s wrist.
“Wherever you are is where I want to be,” she finishes, and the relief coursing through her body is like none she’s ever felt before.
“This was never meant to be permanent,” Alex says, and for a split second Maggie’s worried she’s talking about them , but then Alex brings her other hand up to cup Maggie’s chin. She leans forward and the kiss she presses to Maggie’s forehead makes her feel more cherished - more loved - than she’s ever been in her life.
“National City is home,” she whispers, and Maggie closes her eyes, losing the battle with her tears as they slip out and down her cheeks, grabs at Alex’s waist to hold herself steady.
“You’re home.
Alex’s thumbs sweep away the wetness on Maggie’s face, lips trailing behind to kiss away the rest and Maggie’s tightly held control slips completely from her grasp on a ragged sob.
She blindly seeks out Alex’s mouth with her own, using her grip on Alex’s shirt to pull her in tightly until they’re as close as they can possibly be with their clothes still on. Maggie sniffles into their kiss, and Alex pulls away and rubs her thumb once above Maggie’s upper lip.
Heat creeps across Maggie’s collarbone and she buries her face in Alex’s neck, somehow still crying even as she joins in with the laugh that rumbles through Alex’s chest.
Soothing fingers stroke through her hair and along her shoulders above her backpack and Maggie digs her fingers into Alex’s shoulder blades in a way she’s sure is entirely uncomfortable.
But she can’t bear anymore distance between them.
She’s not sure how long they stay like that, gently swaying on the sidewalk while Alex soothes Maggie with gentle hands and soft words. She only pulls back slightly when Alex’s fingers thread through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp to get her attention. They end up more or less nose to nose and Maggie smiles at the way Alex makes a show of crossing her eyes to bring her into focus.
“Come on,” Alex whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of Maggie’s mouth when she pouts at the separation of their bodies.
Maggie wipes at her cheeks, not quite believing Alex when she says Maggie looks fine. She’s taking one final swipe under her right eye when they walk through the door and come face to face with Alex’s sister.
“Oh, Maggie, this is Kara,” Alex says, squeezing Maggie’s hand once in a gesture of comfort or maybe apology, Maggie’s not sure. “Kara, this is Maggie.”
It’s all Maggie can do to look Kara in the face in her current state, but she puts on the best smile she can muster given the circumstances of their meeting, and reaches out her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, wincing a little at the blonde’s shockingly strong grip. Ouch.
“Likewise,” Kara says, but the tightness around her eyes suggests some lingering apprehension where Maggie’s concerned.
Not that Maggie blames her. She’s just going to have to prove her wrong.
“Going home?” Alex asks Kara, reaching into her pocket and producing a single key.
“Actually, I’m going to stay with Lucy tonight,” Kara says, and a frown darkens Alex’s face.
Alex only gets a few words of protest in before Kara cuts her off.
“I do not want to be around for whatever happens later,” Kara says, gesturing between them with an over dramatic grimace. Maggie only relaxes when Alex pushes at her sister’s shoulder and they both smile at the joke. Well, Kara smiles. Alex blushes impressively.
“I’m happy for you.” Alex beams at her sister’s approval and Maggie decides then and there that there’s nothing she loves more than seeing Alex Danvers happy.
She’s going to do her best to make sure she keeps her that way.
“Maggie.” Kara says, tone clipped and almost polite. The nod she gives, however, has a definite undercurrent of fuck with my sister and I’ll kill you . Maggie’s intimidated as hell, but she’s glad Alex has someone like Kara.
She definitely has no plans to fuck with Alex.
Well, she does, but not like that.
They watch Kara go from the hotel lobby, and when she’s safely in her car, Alex presses a too-quick kiss to Maggie’s lips and leaves her with a be right back as she disappears into the bar.
No more than 30 seconds passes before Alex is back with her bag and pulling Maggie out the door.
“Wait, don’t you have to finish your shift?” Maggie asks, all confusion as Alex starts tugging her down the sidewalk.
“Don’t care,” Alex shrugs, and Maggie laughs, tripping over a bump in the sidewalk as Alex pulls her along faster than her legs can carry her. “I don’t work there anymore.”
“Oh?” Maggie plays along, unable to stop smiling at the giddiness rolling off Alex in waves.
“Fancy new job,” Alex pants out as they all but run across the last intersection before Alex’s building.
Alex leads her up the stairs, arm bent behind her back to keep her hold on Maggie’s hand as they make the narrow climb. It feels like it takes hours for Alex to unlock her door when in reality it’s probably only seconds, but once they’re on the other side, Alex slides the straps of Maggie’s backpack off her shoulders and it lands in a heap on the floor.
“Dr. Danvers is going home,” Maggie teases, placing a hand on Alex’s chest and stepping further into her space.
Alex smiles at her, a soft and precious thing, the whisper of her response washing over Maggie’s lips as they come together.
“Already there.”