Chapter Text
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Alex slammed an ill-advised bionic hand down on the wheel, scowling at the little analogue clock that ticked on against better judgement.
Treacherous goddamned machine
“Asshole!” Snarled, vicious enough that it would have sent all but her Exodus stuff skittering into different corners of the clinic. Alex was fairly convinced that she’d have to shoot Vik for the woman to flinch from her. It was disconcerting and worrying and…
And something she would have to worry about later because an asshole in a Tesla just shoved his way in front of the truck. Without indicating.
She seriously considered accelerating just enough to tap the back of his matt black ass-hole-mobile and send him into a tailspin. Or, better yet, forcing him off the road and just putting her fist through the hundred-thousand-dollar door.
The thought was thwarted when she tried to shift into fourth and the truck protested, groaning and grinding into an extra few miles an hour. By the time she looked up from the ancient display, Mr. Tesla had already cut off the guy in the next lane and was weaving ahead in traffic – a distant memory, entirely unaware how close he’d come to meeting Iron Side Danvers’ famous fist.
Her phone chirped innocently from the cupholder with the broken center divider. A glance proved her worst fear.
Maggie’s face blinked up at her.
Alex hissed, slamming on the brakes, and nearly stalling when the light turned red just as she approached.
The clock ticked over 7pm and kept on going. She was, officially, late for their anniversary.
Treacherous fucking machine
Why? Why was her bike in the shop today? Why had Lucy driven Maggie into work instead of the other way around? Why had the clinic called her on her day off and dragged her into the city in her wife’s horrific fucking truck that only a magician could drive?
(She chose to ignore that their daughter – all of twenty and smug about it – could drive said truck easily. Had been since her senior year of high school. Something Maggie never failed to remind her when she stalled for the third time.)
The red light persisted, and Alex huffed, tugging at the collar of her shirt. She resisted the urge to double-(triple)-check that no blood from the surgery had magically splattered on the white. Lucy would never let her live it down if she arrived at another five-star restaurant painted red when she was, in fact, supposed to be retired from that sort of thing.
She’d never retire from that sort of thing.
And just as the dark edges of that thought started to crowd her mind, the light turned a blessed, wonderful, green.
Resisting the urge to shove down on the accelerator, weary of the engine simply seizing for a last time on her watch and utterly ruining date night for everyone as Maggie mourned the loss of her decrepit machine, she shifted into first, second, third-
She hit the speed limit and forced herself to remain there.
It was fine.
She was literally ten minutes away. Already out of the ‘bad side’ of town, headed towards high rises and luxury and whatever hellishly fancy restaurant Lucy had picked. Hell, she could see Kara’s old apartment in the distance.
She was almost there.
She wasn’t going to be so late as to miss the reservation. Again.
It was going to be fine.
She was going under the overpass, the shadows dipping heavily, and suddenly-
-and suddenly it was the middle of the fucking day and the four yards of space between her, and the next car had vanished.
Instinct yanked the wheel, just in time. The car skidded on suddenly slick pavement, jerked off course and off the road with a roar. She barely registered the sudden arrival of the brick building before consciousness blinked away.