Work Text:
Two years ago, the position you find yourself in would have been not only strange but also unwelcome.
Two years ago, Kara was just Cat’s assistant.
Two years ago, your work with the DEO was still a secret.
Two years ago, Thursday nights were sisters’ nights.
Two years ago, when you weren’t required to stay and help coordinate or participate in a mission, you would drag yourself home around midnight, with the sole intention of having a hard drink and pass out.
Two years ago, your TV set was mostly for decoration… any TV you watched would be watched at Kara’s.
Two years ago, your fridge would have sat unplugged. What’s the point of having the monstrosity connected when you never had any food to store in it?
Two years ago, laundry would have been done once every blue moon. Yeah, your bed is the best place in the apartment, but you never crawled under the covers, you never really slept on it when you often passed out on the couch, drink in hand.
Two years ago, Kara’s invitations to game nights would be met with a polite yet firm ‘no, thank you’.
Two years ago, you didn’t want to hang around people that knew nothing about you but presumed they knew of you, like if having Kara for a sister suddenly made them all aware of your likes and dislikes.
Two years ago, Kara was the only relationship you cared about outside of work… before she too became part of your work.
But, above all, two years ago, you didn’t know of one Maggie Sawyer.
Maggie Sawyer who, despite all the bumps, and anger, and sadness, and insecurity, and misunderstandings, and stubbornness, and simply stupidity, from both your sides, is now kind of invading a space you never thought you would have to share after moving out from your parents’ house:
The bathroom.
A bathroom is a place to relax, to let your worries go down the drain, to submerge yourself in warmness when all around you is cold… you love your bathroom.
Okay, yes. When you started dating her (how cool it is that you are dating her?) you knew you would have to start sleeping together at some point… and that also meant you would have to let her use the bathroom at your apartment.
Because going a day without washing your teeth is gross. Going six hours without peeing hurts. Getting sweaty without the chance of showering is a simply big NO.
So, after the first time she stayed over (nothing above PG13 happened then, and you were so grateful to Maggie for not pushing) she got to wash her teeth beside you on the double sink.
Wow, you never thought you would use the “hers and his sinks”… although yours are hers and hers sinks, thank you very much.
The morning after the First TimeTM, though, you were tempted with something you haven’t done before.
“Want to shower together? We ought to save water, you know? And… well, there are some places I can’t really reach.”
Maggie’s eyes were wide and smiley and full of something you couldn’t describe. You have just experienced the best night of your life and Maggie has been so patient, so understanding, so, so thoughtful… that you said yes even when you kind of wanted to say no.
She might have seen your body for the first time not five hours prior, but, well, it was different.
Maggie was, once again, her amazing self and, surprisingly enough, after the first minute or so of weirdness and insecurity, you had a great time.
Nothing sexual even happened… but you really spent an amazing hour under the hot water with roaming hands helping you get clean.
It was amazing.
Shortly after that, though, showering by yourself became as alien as your beloved sister.
The next bathroom milestone (yes, your bathroom is important to you, is your safe place inside your safe place, of course, you two have milestones when it comes to it) happened a couple of months after you acquired the habit of ‘saving water’.
It was early and Maggie didn’t have to work that day, but you did. So, you were up and running around, trying to get ready. You two showered the night before, so you at least only had to make sure your breath didn’t stink and you didn’t have any drool in your cheeks.
So, you were brushing your teeth after leaving a warm Maggie curled up on the bed, when the bathroom door opened and in came your zombie-like girlfriend. She grunted a greeting and promptly sat on the toilet and, much to your astonishment, peed to her heart content.
She had washed her hands in her sink (yes, Maggie has her sink, she’s had it almost since your first shared night) and was out of the bathroom before you could really understand what the hell happened.
Strangely enough, you didn’t feel grossed out of freaked out or even embarrassed… it just took you by surprise.
A week or so later, the roles were reversed and you needed to pee so badly and she was fixing her makeup for her monthly poker night with her colleagues…
Well, apparently after those two incidents you found out neither of you cares if you two share the bathroom for different proposes at the same time.
And that leads you to the now.
You sit on the bathroom counter, nestled between your sinks, one leg already done, the other in the process of being shaved.
Since you started crawling beneath your covers, since you started using the silk sheets Kara got you for Christmas last year, you absolutely love feeling their smoothness and coldness against your recently shaved legs.
Why didn’t you discover that amazing feeling before?
Maggie, on the other hand, is still in the bathtub, fighting with a Korean sheet mask that won’t detach from her face.
“I told you not to buy them on that shady site,” you can’t help but laugh at the miserable look on her face.
“Shut up, Danvers… finish already and come help me!” she says as she tries again to pull the black thing from her face.
“Nah-uh.” You smirk. “I’m ready to jump into bed once I’m done here.”
Maggie gasps and the sight is too funny. She put lavender bubbles in your shared bath and she’s been building pyramids with them while she waited for her mask to be ready like a bored toddler and her hair is contained in a hot pink towel that’s simply wrong on her. “Are you telling me you are abandoning me here?!”
“You are the one that told me that thing would come off easily, Mags. I told you not to use it.” You can help but snort at her pouting face that somehow is simply adorable.
“But don’t you love me?”
“Don’t be a baby and simply rip it off, Sawyer.”
Maggie grumbles something under her breath and you return to your leg, letting the silence be filled with the soft jazz that’s playing in the living room.
You hear sloshing sounds from the tub but you keep your eyes down, to avoid making, even more, fun off your wounded girlfriend.
Big mistake on your part, Agent.
“Maggie!” you can help but squeal with a wet, soapy detective suddenly embraces you, soaking your thin t-shirt and panties. “What the-”
“Help me before I carry you back into the tub.”
You gasp, unconsciously imitating her not ten minutes ago. “You wouldn’t dare!”
In answer, she lifts you an inch off the counter.
“No! Stop!”
“Help. Now.”
“Jeez, woman, y- okay! Okay!” you yell as Maggie lifts you again. “I’ll help! I’ll help!”
“About time,” you girlfriend grumbles.
“This is going to hurt.”
“Don’t care… it’s starting to itch.”
You shake your head at that. Maybe after this Maggie will start listening when you tell her not to buy something in a site she found by accident.
But, even if you peel off half her face off, you wouldn’t change anything about what you two are doing right now.
Of what lead you to the now.
Two years ago, the position you find yourself in would have been not only strange but also unwelcome.
Two years ago, when you weren’t required to stay and help coordinate or participate in a mission, you would drag yourself home around midnight, with the sole intention of having a hard drink and pass out.
Two years ago, laundry would have been done once every blue moon. Yeah, your bed is the best place in the apartment, but you never crawled under the covers, you never really slept on it when you often passed out on the couch, drink in hand.
Two years ago, Kara was the only relationship you cared about outside of work… before she too became part of your work.
Two years ago you wouldn’t dream of sharing your bathroom.
And yes, Maggie is naked and soapy and wet and making a mess in the middle of your bathroom’s floor and you are still one leg from finishing your shaving and the hour is late and your bed is calling and tomorrow you two have full days at work…
… but this? This sense of belonging, of trust, of rightness?
This, you won’t change for anything.
And you wish you could go back in time and tell yourself, the one from two years ago, that you will find happiness after all.
That you will find love.
That you will find one Maggie Sawyer.