Work Text:
I remember it
It was a night just like this
One of those moments that just slip
But you feel it from your heart to your fingertips
The DEO is half dark like it is most nights at this time. It used to be her favorite time to be here: most of her coworkers gone for the day, quiet and peaceful and perfect for extra time in the lab that she rarely gets with all of the field work and crises that seem to be a daily occurrence. Now, the row of humming florescent lights seems to complement the buzzing that’s lodged itself just under her skin and hasn’t gone away since-
Since.
She derails that train of thought before it can barrel her over and pokes at the keys of her keyboard a bit too aggressively as she navigates to her favorite music streaming site. The click of the mouse is loud in the otherwise silent room as she selects a station at random.
The music is perfect and the buzzing at the base of her skull fades away as much as it ever really does as mellow strings echo out to fill the cavernous, empty space of the lab.
She goes about her work, letting the singer and his words fill the space in her mind not occupied by the equations she’s plugging and chugging. It’s mindless, but it keeps her brain blissfully occupied and blessedly quiet.
She hasn’t had very much quiet recently.
Usually she can’t tolerate music with lyrics when she’s working because she can’t detach from the words in the music well enough to give her full attention to what’s on the page in front of her, but it works tonight.
Until it doesn’t.
Because the instrumentation in the song builds as it goes along just enough to bring her attention out of her work. The markings on the paper in front of her go out of focus as she listens.
It’s the chorus, she realizes, distantly aware that she heard the same thing a minute or so ago and when the words finally register it fully pulls her out of her work.
The table is cool when she rests her elbows against it, work forgotten and chin resting against her folded hands as she closes her eyes to listen.
Some of the words in the next verse are hard to discern, but she lets the sound wash over her anyway until she recognizes the chords leading to the chorus again and then she really listens.
The song ends, fades out with no fuss like it didn’t just wreck her and a shiver runs down behind her ears and fans out across her chest and shoulders when she comes back into herself.
If Alex allowed herself to cry at work, which she doesn’t, she thinks she might be crying now. She swallows the raw feeling at the back of her throat and it goes down sharp and heavy but when she tries to fill her lungs again, it doesn’t work and that raw feeling is still there.
She closes the window open on the screen and the room falls silent again. It’s jarring and Alex is thankful for it. She leaves everything exactly where it is and the only reason she goes to her locker instead of straight home to her bottle of whiskey is because her keys are unfortunately instrumental in getting her to said bottle.
It’s annoying, the similarity. Almost deja vu although not quite because Alex thinks she feels worse this time, if that’s possible.
She doesn’t bother telling Kara to go away when she calls though the window. Her sister will barge in regardless and Alex is surprised to note that she really doesn’t care.
If Kara is surprised at all to find Alex working her way though a bottle of liquor in the dark with music blaring from the sound bar on her mantle, she doesn’t show it.
Alex feels the couch sink next to her and allows herself to be pulled into Kara’s side as an arm settles heavily across her shoulders. The neck of the bottle suddenly feels cold against her palm and the liquid sloshes inside as it’s jostled. Alex’s stomach does the same and she feels so pathetic she’s almost nauseated with it. That raw feeling is back in her throat again, crawling up towards her nose and behind her eyes and maybe it never really left to begin with.
Everything is combining to overwhelm her - Kara’s kindness that she doesn’t deserve, the heavy wash of the music across the apartment - and she can’t breathe with it. She rolls her cheek against Kara’s shoulder, turns her face into her sister’s neck, hoping that hiding it will prevent it from falling.
It doesn’t.
She’s gasping into the blue of Kara’s suit and her sister holds her tighter as she sobs.
It might be moments or minutes later that she can stop the hiccoughing in her chest long enough to get a real breath in. She tries to let it steady her, but she still feels shaky as the room fades into silence for a few moments as the song ends before starting at the beginning again a few seconds later.
“What’s this song?”
Kara’s question catches Alex a little off guard, not at all what she was expecting her first question to be, and Alex pushes against the couch in an attempt to sit herself up, but Kara doesn’t let her get far before gently pulling her back against her side and under her chin. Her face heats with embarrassment against the cool fabric of Kara’s suit because in addition to being a mess, she’s also been listening to the same song on repeat for the past - she glances at the clock in the kitchen - two hours, give or take.
“I heard it at work tonight and it just-“
She doesn’t get farther in her explanation that that before her throat closes up. Kara shushes and soothes her and waits her out and Alex draws in a fairly steady breath a minute or so later and continues.
“It made me think of Maggie.”
Kara stiffens at her side. Alex tries to sit up again and this time Kara lets her. Her sister is looking at her with no small amount of concern and a touch of confusion.
“I thought you two were friends?”
Alex can’t help the way her eyes brim with tears at Kara’s question. The room goes blurry and she takes a swig right from the bottle. The burn of the alcohol chases away the burn of tears enough for a pathetic excuse of a laugh to sneak out.
“I don’t want to be her friend, Kara.”
The couch moves as Kara shifts to face her fully and Alex turns to meet her, not sure if the self-deprecating smile she’s going for is actually the expression that ends up on her face or not. The hand that Kara settles on her leg settles Alex just enough to continue. She can’t quite meet Kara’s eyes for more than a second at a time because the understanding there will have Alex surrendering to the tears she’s just barely managing to keep at bay.
She has to take a few sharp breaths in through her nose before she can go to speak without a sob scraping out instead.
“I was working in the lab tonight and I heard this and I just-“
Her words trail off into another gasp as the heat behind her eyes escapes and trails down her cheeks and she doesn’t try to stop them, not sure if she can even explain what she thinks or feels. The chorus of the song is approaching again and Alex closes her eyes, grips the bottle in her hands so tightly she wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered and sliced her right open.
“Listen,” she whispers, and then she sings.
It’s pathetic, her voice barely eeking out past the gravel in her throat, but she thinks Kara understands what she can’t say because the hand on her thigh squeezes gently in encouragement.
The next verse is beginning and Alex feels a calm she hasn’t felt in hours start to creep back inside her and allow her to open her eyes. She fills her lungs as best she can, as deeply as she can, and when her breath doesn’t come in shudders, she leans places the bottle on the coffee table and turns to meet her sister’s eyes.
Kara’s eyes are bright and wet now and for some reason, it makes Alex feel strong. She’s always tried to be Kara’s protector and seeing Kara upset pulls something from inside her she’s not able to access for herself, try though she might.
“That’s how I feel when I’m with Maggie,” Alex says, and she feels grounded again, the truth so hard to deny, now set free. “That’s how she makes me feel.”
Kara’s hands are as warm as her smile as she takes one of Alex’s between both of hers and holds tight.
“I think you should tell her.”
Fear lodges cold and heavy in her chest and something on her face must alert Kara because she grips Alex’s hand tighter, thumb soothing across her knuckles as she waits Alex out.
“She doesn’t want to be with me,” Alex whispers, the pain of it all stealing her breath away. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything more than what it is, Alex.” Kara is firm, but kind. “And if she does know how you really feel, how much you really feel for her, which I suspect she doesn’t-“
Kara doesn’t use the word love, but Alex hears it all the same.
“Then there’s no harm in laying it all on the line. If being friends with her hurts this much, then it can’t really make it worse. Only better.”
Alex has a million things to say to that and none at all, but there is one thing she knows for certain.
“I’m scared.”
“I know,” Kara says. She gives Alex a look that makes her feel completely understood and it feels so good to know that at least there’s one person she cares about that she’s not hiding from.
Maybe it’s time for her to stop hiding.
She sends the text on a Tuesday morning, exactly one week after her meltdown with Kara. Her anxiety was humming for a few days after, but once she formulated a plan and finally decided how she wanted to go about reaching out to Maggie, she’s felt unusually settled.
She likes it.
Things have been okay between them since she agreed to meet Maggie for pool back before The Meltdown and they’ve seen each other many times and it’s okay.
But fuck okay.
Coffee after work? My liver needs a break.
It’s definitely not a lie. She and Maggie have gotten drinks after work several times in the past two weeks - in addition to her…self-medicating - so she hopes this isn’t going to seem too out of left field.
Sure. Time and place?
Alex sends her the address of the coffee shop she’s sitting inside. It’s a little out of the way, but it’s close to the park.
It’s all part of Alex’s plan.
Said plan makes her feel a little bit ridiculous, but when Maggie’s response comes in, a simple see you at 6, she gets up from the cozy window seat and makes her way to the counter. The middle-aged woman behind the counter smiles as she approaches and Alex hands her the yellow envelope and thanks her again, profusely. It was an awkward request to make, but Kara has been insistent.
Oh, please, Anna won’t mind. I’m her best customer.
Alex can still feel her ears ringing at the shrill sound of excitement that erupted from Kara when Alex proposed her idea.
The bell on the door accompanies her exit and Alex steps out into the cold winter air, feeling like she just left her heart behind and not sure if she’ll get it back.
The smell of cinnamon buns overwhelms her when Maggie walks into the coffee shop Alex had sent her the address of earlier and she suddenly regrets skipping lunch. It only takes a glance - the shop is very small - for her to realize Alex isn’t here yet, so Maggie orders both of their coffees. The woman behind the counter - Anna, her name tag says - tells her the total just as Maggie’s stomach growls embarrassingly loudly.
“And a cinnamon bun, please,” she adds with a roll of her eyes and Anna laughs good-naturedly.
She pays and then pulls out her phone as Anna prepares her order, a little bit concerned Alex isn’t here yet. Maggie was five minutes late herself and Alex is punctual to a fault. She knows things had been strained between them for a while, but she thought they were okay.
Alex wouldn’t stand her up, would she?
She’s about to text Alex, halfway through typing out an I’m here see you soon hoping that Alex will let her know she’s on her way when Anna calls out that her order is ready.
She pockets her phone, figuring the text can wait 30 seconds until she’s seated at a table and at considerably less risk of spilling hot coffee all over herself, but comes up short when she sees the items on the counter.
Two coffees, a cinnamon bun, and a yellow mailing envelope.
Maggie looks to Anna in confusion, a little bit suspicious considering this woman is all but a complete stranger, but her face is kind and Maggie’s even more confused when she speaks.
“From Alex,” she says, sliding the envelope across the counter toward Maggie with the push of a finger.
Her words do nothing to quell Maggie’s confusion. They probably do the exact opposite, if Maggie’s honest, but she picks up the envelope with an awkward thanks, abandoning the rest of her order and breaking the seal of the envelope as she sits at one of the small cafe tables by the window.
She has no idea what to expect so she opens the envelope carefully, pulling the contents out one by one and setting them carefully on the table.
An envelope. Smaller, this time. Letter-sized and white. An iPod. And ear buds.
Her concerns about the nature of this being possibly sinister - not from Alex, but potentially from someone pretending to be her or from someone threatening her - are erased when she sees what’s written on the envelope.
It’s her name in Alex’s writing.
She’s no less confused, but she is curious, so she turns the envelope over, but pulls up short when there’s more writing over the seal.
Listen to the iPod first.
Maggie’s heart feels like it’s competing with her brain to see which one can connect the dots fastest and she can feel the fast beat of it at her temples. She just…doesn’t understand what’s happening. But she trusts Alex implicitly, so she pops the earbuds in and presses the center button on the slightly outdated device in her hand.
She’s not sure what she expected to find, but there’s only one song on the device and it’s nothing of significance to Maggie, but she presses play and she listens.
She likes it. It’s soft and mellow and it builds naturally, purposefully. It reminds her of an ocean wave. She tries to just listen and not draw any conclusions, but this is Alex and it has to mean something. Maggie just doesn’t know what.
It’s a long song and by the time it ends, Maggie doesn’t know what she’s feeling, but she does know she needs to open that envelope. She goes to tear it open.
When did her hands start shaking?
She pulls out the letter, handwritten in that familiar scrawl she knows well, and the paper won’t stay still. She has to press it into the tabletop and it’s cool against her hands when she holds the edges down and starts to read.
Maggie,
I heard this song while I was working late in the lab last week. It reminds me of you.
Or, I guess it reminds me of how I feel when I’m with you. How you make me feel.
I know what you said and I know what I said, but I’m not sure either of us knows how the other feels.
I want to be with you, Maggie. I want to be more than your friend. And it’s not just because you’re new and shiny or because I’m fresh off the boat.
You are extraordinary. I find pieces of you in everything. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you and it’s because of who you are, not in spite of it.
I know what you told me, at the bar and at Kara’s that night, but I don’t know how you feel. If I’ve overstepped and you don’t want to see me, you can leave and go home and we can forget all of this ever happened. I promise.
I’m in the southwest corner of the park, by the fountain.
I’m yours, if you want me.
Alex
By the time she gets to the end of the letter, Maggie is sure she’s a sight. She’s definitely crying, her hands and the edges of the paper wet from wiping at her cheeks throughout.
When she looks up, Anna is nowhere to be found, courteous enough to slip away and give Maggie some privacy even in the already empty coffee shop.
Her hands are shaking even more now if that’s possible, and she fumbles with the iPod, wanting desperately to listen to that song again and memorize every word, absorb it and keep it safe inside her. But she needs to get to Alex.
She stuffs the contents of the envelope back inside as gently as she can, feeling like she’s handling something infinitely more precious than she ever has.
And then she runs.
She tries to walk, forces herself to take the two steps from the coffee shop down to the sidewalk at a normal pace, but as soon as the light at the crosswalk turns to walk, she can’t.
Alex.
God, Alex. Her breath is heavy with exertion and sobs and Alex’s name is the only thing Maggie can think as she dodges pedestrian traffic, running faster than she thinks she ever has.
At the park entrance, she ignores the winding walking path and tears across the grass. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line and she refuses to put even an extra inch between her and her Alex.
Her Alex.
Dusk is falling, purple and thick between the shadows of the skyscrapers and Maggie feels like she’s racing against time itself and god, what if she took too long and Alex left and-
There she is.
Her train of thought cuts off abruptly even as her body somehow still obeys her brains commands and for the first time in her life she’s running straight for exactly what she wants.
Alex must be able to hear her approach - she’s sure it’s not at all subtle, probably closer to the heavy footfalls of the park horses than those of a human - because she glances over her shoulder from her seat on the park bench and it makes Maggie pull up short.
Alex stands and they’re just feet from each other; she feels like she could reach out and touch and that’s everything she wants so why isn’t she doing it?
“Maggie.”
That’s all it takes. Alex says her name like that, in the way only Alex can, and she breaks.
Maggie’s not sure if these sobs are new or if they’re the same ones from the coffee shop, but she can’t stop them. She’s clutching at the envelope in her hands as she gasps for breath and each one sounds like Alex and her body won’t move.
Something slides down her arms and then warmth envelops her hands around their death grip on the envelope and when she looks to see what it is - are her hands still shaking? - the warmth belongs to someone else and then she’s face to face with Alex.
Alex, who is guiding her gently towards the bench she just vacated and Maggie tries desperately to calm her breathing even as she futilely blinks away tears she can’t seem to stop.
The wood is hard and cold under her and the warm tracks of tears on her cheeks are a stark contrast to the crisp air. Before she can settle the internal debate - she wants to wipe them away, but she can’t will her hands to let go - Alex gently takes the envelope from her, sits it on the ground, and places Maggie’s hands in her lap thumbs away the wetness on Maggie’s cheeks herself.
Maggie digs her fingers into Alex’s legs just above her knees, both grounding herself and refusing to be separate from Alex for even a moment.
Alex is whispering to her and Maggie uses every trick she’s learned - focuses on the gentle brush of Alex’s thumbs across her skin, other fingers curling warm around the shell of her ear and the column of her neck - and soon her breath is coming more naturally. The hot rush behind her eyes is fading and for the first time since she got here she can see Alex clearly in front of her instead of distorted through the haze of tears.
She doesn’t deserve the look Alex is giving her right now, all gentle and soft and smiling. It almost makes Maggie tear up again, but she shoves it down and makes sure she looks directly at Alex when she speaks.
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, but she pushes on even as Alex shakes her head and protests her apology with a quiet no.
“I was so stupid,” she continues. “I- Alex, you have no idea how much I hated turning you down. I wanted to be with you, I’ve never not wanted to be with you, I just thought…”
She trails off, regret swirling heavily in her stomach and ironically calming her further. If anything, Alex deserves this apology, so she’s going to give it to her. She goes to speak, but Alex beats her to it.
“You were protecting me. And you,” Alex says it gently and with certainty and Maggie knows it’s an absolute truth.
“Yes.” She’s not going to argue. “But it doesn’t mean it hurt you any less. I’m sorry for that.”
Alex doesn’t say anything, but her shoulders relax infinitesimally and her hands are still soft on Maggie’s face and Maggie leans into the warmth of the contact.
“I’m sorry too, for how I acted at first. I was hurt, but I understand now.”
God, how did Maggie get this lucky? She thinks this might be the most open and honest conversation she’s ever had with anyone and she’s surprised there’s absolutely no trace of fear crawling up her spine. For the first time in her life, she wants someone to see all of her - she’s okay with someone seeing all of her - and judging by the way Alex is looking at her, she thinks she might.
Maggie immediately misses Alex’s touch when she drops her hands, but then Alex is prying Maggie’s fingers from her thighs with a small laugh and Maggie is too thrilled at the easy way Alex intertwines their fingers to be embarrassed.
“So, since you came, I’m guessing that you…like me?” Alex asks the question with a hint of humor, and it draws an easy smile to Maggie’s face, but she can see the underlying uncertainty in Alex’s eyes and she promises herself to never give Alex a reason to be weary of her again.
For a long minute, she just looks at Alex, seeing the same things she’s feeling reflected back at her though dark and deep eyes. There are a million things she wants to say, but they have all the time in the world for that.
“I want to kiss you,” Maggie breathes. “Can I kiss you?”
Alex, brave, wonderful Alex, lifts their hands between them and presses a kiss to Maggie’s knuckles and instead of the anxious wings of butterflies, Maggie feels calm and certain.
Alex’s lips are soft and warm and she can taste the slightest hint of salt on her own lips as she licks at the seam of Alex’s mouth. Her eyes are closed and the sun is completely gone.
Even in the dark, Maggie’s never felt so seen.