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“I know you aren’t frightened of me, agent Danvers.” Astra smirks as she backs Alex up against the wall in the dark and narrow alleyway. “I know you feel as I do, you cannot deny it.”
Her back hits the damp bricks and it allows Astra—her enemy—to enter her personal space. She is right about one thing: Alex is not afraid of her. Astra unnerves her in her prowess and unpredictability, her intelligence and her skill, but never fear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex shoots back, despite the fact that this close proximity has affected her. There is a heated flush on her cheeks, one she blames on the cold evening air, that has increased as Astra drew nearer, and her heart rate has definitely spiked.
Like she mentioned: Astra unnerves her, that is all.
Astra doesn’t grow any less smug, grinning wider like this is a game of cat and mouse she is thoroughly enjoying. Alex is, unfortunately, the mouse to Astra’s cat in this metaphor. “Your breathing is more rapid and shallow,” she points out with amusement. “Your heart rate has increased to a pace of 120 beats per minute and climbs when I approach you. Your skin is flushed, and your pupils are dilated almost to their maximum capacity... It’s quite flattering, actually.”
Alex wants to point out that it is dark; of course her pupils are dilated right now, that is simple biology. She wants to make excuses for the others too, that none of these signs tell her anything, that she is wrong, but Astra isn’t done yet.
She closes in further, and Alex can see what symptoms she can perceive without medical equipment are mirrored on the woman. “And...” Astra pauses to take a good whiff of Alex, and there is a delighted glint in her eyes that have darkened even further.
Mortified, Alex gapes at her; she doesn’t have to ask or wonder what Astra’d just sniffed out, she knows exactly what her traitorous body had given away. Arousal.
Seemingly satisfied and convinced she is right on the mark, without a doubt, Astra leans in to capture Alex’s lips. The confidence is evident even there in the firm pressure she applies.
Alex panics.
She pushes Astra away, off of her, breaking the kiss she hadn’t responded to, and is at the very least pleased that Astra doesn’t resist this, that she allows herself to be pushed back. “I’m not gay!” Alex manages, at last making herself abundantly clear.
This game of hers is unwelcome.
They are enemies, she is Kara’s aunt, she is married as far as Alex knows, a married woman.
It’s too complicated.
Astra, for her part, looks shellshocked at best. Her eyes widen in realization when her brain finally catches up with her, and then she frowns. “I’m sorry, it appears I have misinterpreted your symptoms.”
No shit, Alex wants to say. She is definitely not attracted to Astra, no way, just as Astra should not be attracted to her.
“You must have contracted some sort of illness,” Astra concludes instead. “Please allow me to take you home to make up for my mistake.”
Alex’s jaw drops, genuinely drops. It lingers for a moment, several moments, before she closes it and shakes her head. “No no no, I’m not sick, I’m fine.”
Before she can argue any further, Astra interjects with a similar determination to the confidence she’d displayed earlier, when she was certain Alex was into her. “Agent Danvers, I will not have you ignore this any longer. Your symptoms imply a serious sickness and have been present since we’ve met, who knows how long you’ve been displaying them before then.”
Astra moves, and before Alex can protest or even notice what exactly the Kryptonian is planning, she is—quite literally—swept off her feet. “I will not have you succumb to this because you are too stubborn to rest. I’m gonna take care of you.”
“What? Astra, no, we’re enemies, you can’t—“
“Hold on,” Astra interrupts her, silencing her effectively, and completely ignoring or disregarding her arguments. She takes off, and Alex instinctively clings to Astra as they soar through the air at a breakneck pace.
She has no choice in this matter, clearly.
“I’m not telling you where I live,” Alex huffs. Stubborn Kryptonians might not be able to be talked out of their plans once they are set on executing them, but that doesn’t mean she has to cooperate with this.
“I don’t need you to.”
“Wha—You know where I live?” Astra merely hums in response. “How?”
“It’s as you said, agent Danvers,” she grins, looking down at the woman in her arms. “We are enemies.”
“Ah! There’s the chicken soup.”
Astra is rummaging through her cabinets in an attempt to find ‘suitable food for sick humans’, clearly having read about it in various books and articles if her choices are anything to go by. Seeming satisfied with her find, she boils some water for the soup.
Not with the stove like literally anyone else would, but with her heat vision, because who needs a stove? Not Astra, that’s for sure.
After being fed some medication—forcefully, for she’d tried to hide the pills rather than swallow them down, which Astra noticed—and being tucked into bed with orders to take some rest, Alex is seriously considering making a break for her stash of kryptonite and chase the woman off.
She eyes her nightstand and wonders if she can reach the lead box without alerting Astra. Slowly and carefully Alex inches her arm out from beneath the blankets while the Kryptonian general is busy preparing her a meal, the sound of boiling water filling the silence.
As soon as Alex has her entire arm stretched out towards the nightstand and is about to move her body closer, Astra turns around. “Did you need something, agent?” Her eyebrow is cocked, and a glint in her eyes tells Alex the woman knows exactly what she is up to.
Great.
Huffing, Alex returns back beneath the blanket. “No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Astra turns back to her cooking, if you can call it that, and Alex watches her contemplatively. It occurs to her that in this moment the woman really chooses to appear as unthreatening as is possible for a Kryptonian general and criminal, or Alex’s attempt at retrieving a weapon would have at the very least been met with a hand at her throat. Whatever her reasons—Alex doubts mere attraction is enough to sway someone like Astra, and she’s made it clear that their connection to Kara isn’t enough either—she seems to be genuine in this care.
It doesn’t make sense to Alex, though.
They are enemies, Alex made an attempt on her life before, and while Astra claims to want to save everyone she should at the very least want Alex out of the way for that.
But while that is confusing, it’s more confusing that Alex herself feels safe in this moment. Astra may be somewhat overbearing and controlling, but Alex can’t say she necessarily minds Astra taking care of her. It’s weird and completely inappropriate, but those are her only actual complaints.
Well, that, and that this blanket is too damned hot, which has nothing to do with Astra’s presence at all.
Hands swiftly raised above the blankets, this time without ulterior motive, Alex watches Astra as she scans her closed cabinets, undoubtedly using x-ray vision. She quickly finds what she’s looking for, and mere seconds later she is standing next to Alex with an offering of chicken broth, blowing a small puff of freeze breath over it.
“Eat up, agent Danvers. It should be edible.”
Once seated upright and holding onto the bowl, Alex can tell the temperature is perfect. Astra is gone, back in the kitchen, by the time she picks up the spoon to have a taste. She hums when she does, the flavor spreading through her mouth; this wasn’t just edible, this was as good as it could get.
Astra returns with her own bowl, not bothering with cooling it down for herself. Alex supposes she has no need for it when she can’t burn her mouth, but that makes her wonder where Astra has learned that kind of precise temperature control.
She could ask.
She probably shouldn’t. It’s one thing to have Astra force her care upon her, quite another to genuinely fraternize with the enemy. That’s treason.
Then again, she thinks as she is under the Kryptonian’s watchful gaze, would it make a difference at this point? Maybe she should use this to her advantage; she does want Kara to get her family back, bonding with Astra might actually make her more likely to defer to their side.
Yes. She will make the most of this situation for Kara. Getting to know Astra while Astra is taking care of her. Here. In her bedroom.
“Your temperature is rising again.”
Alex is shaken out of her train of thought, and her eyes fall back on a now concerned Astra.
“I thought the soup was supposed to help. Did I do something wrong in its preparation?”
There’s an admittedly endearing frown on her face, and Alex takes pity on her after she swallows another spoonful of soup down. “You did fine, Astra. Human bodies are weird, that’s all.”
A huff. “I’m well aware they’re weird, agent Danvers.”
“Alex,” she corrects. “If you insist on taking care of me, call me Alex.”
“Alex.” Astra nods. “So you approve of the soup?”
Smiling softly around the spoon in her mouth, Alex hums her confirmation. “Impressive freeze breath control you got there.”
Astra shrugs the arm that isn’t holding a spoon. “Kara’s likely the only Kryptonian that hasn’t mastered the ability. Any of us could do it.”
A mental image of Clark attempting the same crosses her mind, almost making Alex snort. With his clumsiness he’d be more likely to blow the soup out of the bowl than he would be to cool it down. But that brought up another interesting question. “Does that mean you’ve trained the Fort Rozz Kryptonians to be able to do this?”
“Yes.”
If the image of Clark attempting it had been amusing, the idea of a dozen or two Kryptonian criminals lined up and cooling bowls of soup to the right temperature was hysterical; Alex had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and even then her shoulders jerked with a chuckle regardless.
Narrowed eyes observe her. “That’s amusing to you, is it? I assure you it was as dull as training new recruits.”
The urge to laugh fades immediately. “Oh, I’m sure.” Alex had trained a few recruits herself and their impatience and overzealousness was exhausting. Kara had been one of them. “Maybe you can teach Kara some day.”
“Perhaps...” Her smile was tinged with sadness, but the fact that Astra hadn’t responded with an outright ‘no’ had Alex filled with a strange kind of hope.
Kara really was rubbing off on her.
“I don’t understand.”
Astra is staring at her intently, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. She’s been looking at Alex like that for at least two full minutes now. She’d mind it if she hadn’t grown accustomed to it by now; Alex learned quickly that Astra doesn’t pace when she is conflicted, doesn’t tap a foot or bounce a leg, she just stares with whatever expression is appropriate.
“It’s been three days and none of your symptoms have improved,” she continues, clearly sounding frustrated. “If anything they appear to have gotten worse!”
She stares that frustrated stare a couple moments longer, and Alex remains silent. There is nothing for her to say; denials have never worked, and excuses can only get her so far. But then something changes in Astra’s eyes, like a lightbulb has gone off inside that clever brain of hers. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“Maybe I’m allergic to you,” Alex grumbles. After several days of being closely monitored and barely being allowed to even get to the bathroom on her own, she’s grown tired of this charade. Pleasant company or not, it’s too much to bear with.
Astra stares at her, snapped out of her thought process, for several moments. For a while she only blinks at her, doesn’t move another muscle, before she cracks. Lips quirk up, which escalates into full-blown laughter, a sound that roars through the apartment.
Alex frowns at her like she’s lost her mind. Maybe she has.
But Astra composes before she can comment on it, catching her breath and then speaking. “Oh, Alex. I highly doubt you’re allergic to Kryptonians.” Her expression turns thoughtful, but there is something off about it, something that gives Alex a sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. “Unless you mean to imply you’ve felt like this around Kara since your family took her in.”
Furious red colors Alex’s cheeks at that thought. “Oh hell no.” That is her sister they are talking about and Astra damned well knows it. She’s figured out Alex isn’t really sick, and Alex has run out of excuses to justify the symptoms of her attraction even to herself.
As if things weren’t bad enough yet, Astra continues innocently, with that same wicked kind of thoughtfulness. “It would explain why it hasn’t improved in my presence,” she muses and steps closer, moving to Alex’s side.
There’s a glint in those eyes that makes Alex’s heart skip a beat.
“And why they are getting worse now. If you’ve experienced this around Kara—“
“Oh my god, please stop!” Alex interrupts her, groaning. This is where she draws the line. “I’m not allergic, I do not feel like this around Kara, I’m attracted to you, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
Astra doesn’t seem the least bit shocked, instead continues her advancing and leans in towards her, grinning like she’s finally caught her mouse and has been planning for this to happen all along. She stops a few inches from Alex’s face, just too close for comfort, while simultaneously not close enough. “I thought you claimed not to be gay.”
“Can we... I...” Too many things are crossing her mind, defenses and explanations and denials, but instead of trying to voice any of them she grabs Astra by her shoulders and drags her down onto the bed with her. She delights in the surprise on her face, and the semblance of control it returns to Alex. “Shut up,” she murmurs before closing the distance, lunging for Astra’s lips.
Astra’s lips curl up in their kiss, both pleased and amused by this turn of events. Moving an arm to steady herself and properly resituate herself on top of Alex, she lowers herself and deepens their kiss. A hand reaches out to stroke the side of Alex’s head, fingers tangling in the strands of hair.
She hums. With Astra’s lips against hers, surrounded by Astra’s warmth, it’s hard to remember why she’s tried to resist this for so long—it’s been longer than just these past 3 days, Alex can acknowledge that much now. Astra may be smug and entirely too self-satisfied right now, but she’s also soft and strong and gentle and everything Alex never realized she truly wanted.
Now, as she pokes out her tongue to swipe at Astra’s lip, asking for entrance and getting near instantaneous and eager response, she knows what she wants. Alex wants her, wants this stupid alien that refuses to let this planet die even if it means abandoning her family, wants her for reasons she should stay away, but wants her nonetheless.
Wants her even more when it’s Astra that pulls back to allow her some much necessary oxygen, when Astra’s forehead is settled against hers. That smug smile is now much softer and warmer, but her pupils are blown as wide as Alex thinks her own must be.
She wants Astra, and Astra wants her, and really, things have never been more simple.
