Wanna Bet?

This one goes out to tashaldunn (and chrissy_cataldo) on Twitter! Chrissy requested this prompt about how the betting started between Alex and Maggie when Tasha put out a call for prompts after she donated to the Warren campaign.
This is also the end of the Warren Campaign prompts, as Elizabeth Warren has dropped out of the race. Thank you for all your donations and prompts, folks. <3

Work Text:

It started out small.

Alex watched as Sawyer missed her shot, not sinking the six in the corner. The cue ball bounced off a rail and ended up in the middle of the table, and Alex had her eye on the eleven.

Slowly, eyes on the table, she walked around and crouched down to get an idea of what she'd need to do. She lined up the shot and discovered where she'd need the cue to impact the eleven in order to send it skittering down the table into the corner pocket. If she hit it wrong, the eleven would ricochet off the rail.

"There's no way you can make that shot," the detective scoffed.

She stood up, a broad smile on her face as she turned to face Sawyer. "I can definitely make that shot," she said, half-sitting on the table's edge.

"No way," she said, shaking her head.

"Wanna make it interesting?" Alex teased.

"Sure. Bet you a beer you don't make it."

"You're on." With that, she turned back around and settled into a comfortable stance. With her left hand spread out solidly on the green felt, she rested the smooth wood of the cue between her thumb and forefinger. Her right hand moved the cue expertly, back and forth, as she visualized the shot in her head.

She took a deep breath and let the tip of the cue connect with the cue ball solidly. The white ball rolled quickly down the table, impacting the eleven with an audible crack. The eleven obediently trundled down the rail where it dropped into the pocket as though guided by some divine force.

Alex smiled as she stood and turned back to the detective, who was frowning. She reached out for her bottle of beer and tipped it back, finishing the last couple of mouthfuls. "Guess you're buying me another beer, Sawyer," she grinned.

Without a word, she stormed over to the bar, leaving Alex chuckling.

***

As they played each other more frequently, every other night now, it seemed, Sawyer was insistent on making the bets more frequent.

Bet you fries.

Bet you onion rings.

Bet you next round.

Bet you twenty bucks.

Soon, it escalated to twenty dollars a game as a standard bet. Alex almost felt bad about taking the detective's money as often as she did.

So, one night, Alex started trying to lose and still managed to beat her. She collected $40 after winning her second game.

"I don't get the chance to win my money back?"

"Uh, with the rate that you play," Alex said, rubbing the two twenties together, "we'd be here for hours. Your girlfriend would have to put out an APB," she teased.

"Not likely," Sawyer said, flatly. "We broke up." She started walking away from the table.

It took a moment for the news to sink in for Alex. "Oh my God! I'm sorry!" she said, catching up to her. "What, what happened?"

"She dumped me."

It was ridiculous to Alex. "She dumped you?" she scoffed. "Who would do that?"

"She did," Maggie replied, arriving at the bar and pulling out money to pay her tab. "Convincingly."

Maggie left the bar a few minutes later, leaving Alex to call out an ineffective "feel better". As Alex finished her beer, her thoughts swirled around her friend. Alex realized that, just like everyone else, Maggie apparently had feelings. It was the first time she'd seen under the armour, under the persona that Detective Sawyer put on display. It was the first time she'd seen Maggie.

***

The night after Maggie had come to Kara's to apologize to Alex, they were back at the bar. Once again, they had started playing pool at their favourite table, twenty bucks a game as the stakes.

The conversation was a little stilted at first, but they got past the awkwardness after a couple of games — and a couple of beers.

"What's your favourite colour?" Maggie asked out of nowhere.

"Blue," Alex responded. "Why?"

"When you rack up, you always put the blue ball at the front of the triangle."

She smiled. "Got me there." It was an old habit. Blue was her favourite colour and always rendered her a bit calmer or a bit happier. The specific shade of the two — and its counterpart, the ten — was like an old friend. "What about you?"

"I kind of like green," she said, getting her cue and chalking up.

"Huh, I wouldn't have thought that."

"Why not?"

"You, uh… tend to wear black a lot," she said, with a slight blush. Was it okay that she'd noticed what Maggie wore? Was it okay that Maggie knew she'd noticed? Alex sighed to herself. She was hopeless at this being friends with someone she liked thing.

"Guilty as charged, Danvers," she grinned. "But black is the absence of all colour, isn't it?"

"Well, technically."

Maggie broke the rack cleanly, sinking the two in the process. "So I like the absence of all colour to wear, but to look at, I much prefer something in a green." She smiled. "Solids."

Alex nodded.

"What other conclusions have you come to about me?" she asked, after whiffing on the six.

She blushed fully this time. "Uh, like what?"

Maggie chuckled and then took a sip of her beer. "So you assumed I had a favourite colour — black. What else have you assumed about me?"

Alex got up without answering and went to the table, gazing at her potential shots. "Oh, you know, just… like, the usual."

"Bet you that you're wrong on like, all of your assumptions."

Alex turned back. "Oh, you think so?"

A nod accompanied Maggie's wide grin.

"All right, then." She leaned on her cue. "What are the stakes?"

"I bet you a hundred bucks you don't even get, say, two of my favourite things right."

"Out of how many?"

"Five."

"Deal, but colour doesn't count." Alex walked up and shook on it, trying not to hold on to Maggie's hand for too long.

"Favourite book," Maggie challenged.

Alex thought about it. It wasn't going to be some novel that everyone had read. It was going to be deeper than that. Something philosophical, she imagined. "The Stranger, by Albert Camus."

Maggie snorted. "French existentialism, Danvers? Come on!"

She shrugged. "I took a shot. What is it?"

"The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry."

"Oh, you gotta give me half a point! That's French!"

Maggie laughed. "Fine, you get half a point." She considered. "Favourite food."

"Way too easy. Tiramisu."

She raised her eyebrows. "How did you know that?"

"Well, I may not be a detective, but I can certainly detect you longingly looking at it on the dessert menu at Stilton's Pizza."

"Wow, okay, you surprised me there. That's correct." She took a swig of her beer. "Favourite movie."

Alex narrowed her eyes and looked at her carefully. Would it be a lesbian-themed movie? Or action? Or something sentimental from her youth? She threw caution to the wind. "Die Hard."

"Danvers, we'd fail the Newlywed Game, you know," she teased. "Terminator 2."

"Get out, that's my favourite, too!"

"Shocker," Maggie grinned. "Favourite sport."

"Spectator or participant?"

"Spectator."

"Women's soccer."

"Ooh, nicely done," she admitted. "Okay, last one. What's my favourite band?"

"God, like there aren't literally a zillion bands out there."

"And I promise you haven't heard of them or, if you have, you haven't thought of them since you were a kid."

She frowned at that and then the perfect band name came to mind. It was her own favourite band. They'd faded from the spotlight, but had been very popular in her youth. And the name was just perfect for two lesbians. She grinned. "Want to make it interesting?"

Maggie looked confused. "I'm pretty sure that's what we're already doing," she laughed.

"If I can name the band, tickets are on you to see them when they next tour."

"Deal," she said, shaking Alex's hand firmly.

"Barenaked Ladies."

Maggie's jaw dropped. "How did you know?"

"They're my favourite, too."

Incredulously, Maggie laughed, shaking her head. "Well, you won and I guess we're seeing BNL together next time they come around."

***

The bets got to be ridiculous once they got together.

Bet you a kiss that I can beat you in a race around the pond.

Bet you dinner tonight that I can make you cry for mercy during a tickle fight before you can do the same to me.

Bet you breakfast at that restaurant you like that we can fool around in the DEO training room without getting caught.