Chapter Text
New York City
September 2016
Aly’s barely touched her latte when she sees the woman walk into the coffee shop. No one actually looks up—this is New York, after all—but a few people sneak glances at the new customer. It might be because of that magnetic presence, or maybe some of them recognize her from the NBC coverage. Aly smiles and waves. Aliya smiles back, the familiar grin that makes her look younger than she is, and comes over.
“Hey, you,” Aly says, drawing her into a big hug.
“It’s good to see you, Alexandra.”
“You, too. Can I buy you some coffee? Tea?”
“Thank you, I just eat.” They sit down. Aliya says, “You look very nice.”
“You look great. But where’s your bling?”
“Bling?”
“Your silver medal. I think you’re contractually obligated to wear that thing everywhere for at least a month after the Olympics.”
Aliya chuckles. “It doesn’t go with my clothes.”
“Silly, silver goes with everything.” Aly leans her chin on her hand. “Did you get my last email?”
“Yes. You want me to come to your gym? Teach bars?”
“I think it would be fun. And let’s be honest, Brestyan’s could use a bars clinic.”
“This is true,” Aliya agrees, deadpan.
Aly makes a face at her but lets it slide. “Text me when your schedule settles down and we’ll set something up for while you’re here. And you should come visit even if you can’t do a clinic, my girls would love to see you.”
“I will.” Something catches Aliya’s eye. She reaches across the table and takes Aly’s hand. “That is beautiful.”
“I like it,” Aly agrees, looking down at the ring.
Aliya regards her, still holding Aly’s hand. “Are you happy, Alexandra?”
“Very happy. Are you happy?”
“Yes,” Aliya says simply.
“Good.” Aly feels a smile spread across her face. “Good.” She squeezes Aliya’s hand and lets go. “So tell me about Rio…”