Work Text:
Step One: Ask a Question And Research
Alex Danvers is a scientist. She loves math, reasoning, evidence, hypotheses, deductions. She's an observer, a protector, an agent, a sister.
She's also, apparently, blind.
Alex has never thought herself a master of self-awareness. She buries the shit she doesn't have time to deal with, and she carries on. It's a skill she's pretty proud of, actually, her ability to persevere in the face of anything life throws at her. But this. This isn't just lacking self-awareness. This is something she doesn't even know how to define.
The first thing she tries is avoidance. She tries the patented bury-and-forget approach, but she listens to commands and hears, “I didn't know you were into girls.” She looks at reports and sees dimples.
So instead, she takes a break and goes over to Kara's to talk it out. This is what sisters do, right? They share things, no matter how confusing or life-altering.
The thing is, as much as she loves Kara, she's relieved when Lena Luthor shows up and interrupts her. Because she just...isn't quite ready to share this yet. It's still too raw, and her brain is too jumbled. She needs to sort out her thoughts before she can shape them into words.
So she goes home – after she swings by the shop for another doughnut, because she's a grown woman and she can eat two doughnuts in one afternoon if she wants to, dammit – and digs through her closet until she finds one of her unused composition notebooks. She flops down on the couch, then stands and moves over to the kitchen table, sits and opens the notebook flat in front of her.
And she jots down something she hasn't written in a while, but that comes back to her as easily as breathing.
#1: Ask a question.
She takes a deep breath, reveling in the modicum of comfort afforded her by this small, familiar thing, before she ventures into the unknown. She's had the scientific method memorized since the seventh grade and has written and typed it out more times than she can count.
Still, her hand has never shaken while writing the first step before.
She starts to write the second line and then pauses, looks around her apartment like some kind of idiot, because of course no one else is around to read this. She lives alone. Still, her tidy penmanship is even smaller than usual when she writes three words in firm, deliberate strokes.
Am I gay?
She exhales, almost a laugh, and it's involuntary, like just writing these words has released a sort of pressure that's been building behind her lungs.
She puts pencil to paper and continues.
Step Two: Construct a Hypothesis
I am gay. She writes the letters one at a time, and it's difficult even though she's prefaced them with Hypothesis and a perfectly symmetrical colon.
Step Three: Test with Experimentation
Alex had never really given it much thought before, but her assumption was that it was one of those things you just...knew. Kind of like that one documentary she saw about that girl who didn't realize she was pregnant until she went into full-term labor in a bathroom stall at McDonald's. Like, how do you not realize? It isn't like she was under the impression that everyone gets a visit from The Gay Fairy who dresses in a rainbow tutu, showers you with glitter, and throws you a mini “Congrats, you're gay!” party followed by an hour-long orientation on the Dos and Don'ts of Gaydom. She just thought maybe it would be a little more obvious than...well, this.
Than having your sexuality realized and pointed out by someone else before it even occurs to you.
Obviously, she was wrong.
Because it took this, and now.
Now she doesn't even have to perform new experiments. All she has to do is sift through memories, and suddenly she has piles and piles of evidence just waiting to be examined.
She thinks the small zing she used to get sometimes when she and Susan were working together, before the other woman got a promotion and transferred to the new base in Metropolis.
She remembers the way she felt in college her sophomore year when she was doing her work study tutoring. There was a freshman named Amy who came to her for help with Biology. She distinctly recalls feeling constantly uncomfortable, not ever wanting to meet the other girl's too-green eyes. How she literally thought she was sick the first time they met, because her stomach felt weird, her face overly hot, and she blamed the dining hall food, took a Tums, and hoped for the best. When it didn't stop happening, she deduced she must have some sort of allergy to Amy's perfume. Then Amy aced her midterm, thanked Alex for her help, and promptly dropped out of Alex's everyday life and thus out of her thoughts.
The way her stomach jumped when she caught a glimpse of Amy in the cafeteria over the rest of the semester had to be a bizarre case of muscle memory.
And now Alex feels like an idiot, all the things she explained away or laughed off or buried. So obvious now, with the benefit of hindsight and context.
But attraction to girls isn't the only element she needs to examine. She knows there's no need for labels immediately, but if she's going to start to do the whole introspection thing, she's going to do it right.
Because it's possible to like girls and like guys, too.
As soon as she starts examining the possibility, she knows it's wrong. She feels it deep in her gut, and logic based on previous experience backs it up.
It's isn't that she's physically repulsed by all men. She can recognize an attractive man when she sees one. It's just that, though. She's an observer looking at clear skin and well-styled hair and strong bone structure and saying, “Yes, that is attractive,” but as an outside observer, not as one who is actually being attracted.
She always thought it was just because she was too logical. She knew it was all a matter of hormones and pheromones, and that took all the fun and mystery out of it.
So she tried dating, from short and casual to long and committed. It never worked. Sometimes the kissing part was...not entirely unpleasant. If the guy had thought to eat a mint beforehand and had a good technique and no stubble. She could see why some people enjoyed it, but really the whole experience just left her uncomfortable and a little bit mystified. She just couldn't make herself want any of them the way she was supposed to, not for sex, for hand-holding, or even just intimate, heart-to-heart conversations.
She thinks about Maggie and the way she wants to be around her at every opportunity, the way their text conversations have already gotten surprisingly deep on a couple of occasions. She thinks of the way she felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach when Maggie kissed her girlfriend in front of her.
Alex takes a deep breath and purposefully pictures Maggie in her mind. She imagines kissing her, and immediately, her breathing and pulse rate both accelerate noticeably.
Logically, this reaction could be indicative of any of several things. Panic. Excitement. Attraction.
In a perfect world, she would have legitimate tests to perform, charts to put together, experiments to conduct. But this isn't a perfect world, and it certainly isn't a perfect execution of the scientific method, and she isn't doing this for any reason other than her own peace of mind.
And she already knows.
Oh, she knows.
Step Four: Analyze Data and Draw Conclusions.
She'd known it immediately, really, the second her brain had processed Maggie's words.
She'd known it the way you do when you see a new photograph of yourself, and your first instinct is no, that's wrong, because your face is somehow different from what you're used to seeing in the mirror. But then something just clicks, and you realize it's because what you see in the mirror is a reflection, a backwards version of the truth.
And this is you, of course it's you, it's always been you. You've just become so accustomed to seeing yourself one way – the way you've been told you are, the way you've told yourself you are – that you don't know what to do with this new truth when it's shoved in your face.
Now here she is. Eight hours, two doughnuts, and three sheets of notebook paper later.
Ready to draw her conclusion.
I AM GAY, she writes in all caps, and this time, her hand doesn't shake.
She does find herself a little teary-eyed, though, but it's almost...relief. The relief of finally realizing and acknowledging something she's misunderstood and unintentionally ignored for so long. She picks up the phone and thinks about calling Kara, but she still needs a little time to process. A little time to keep it to herself. To revel in the newness, to explore what it might mean for her. To get over the tiny part of her that's terrified of the unknown.
Step Five: Communicate Results (Optional)
She doesn't think it will be easy.
After all, vulnerability has never been one of her strengths, and this is a Big Thing.
Still, she underestimates just how difficult it's really going to be.
She tries to be honest, because Maggie is sitting there, completely supportive but not pressuring, and Alex wants to share this with her. She's possibly the best friend Alex has outside of Kara, and Maggie has been where she is before.
Even knowing all this, Alex stumbles over her words and can't even bring herself to say certain ones. She's never said it out loud before, only written it down. The thoughts that were so organized in her head get all scrambled, and she's miscalculated just how much of an impact her emotions are going to have. She's on the brink of tears by the time she finishes, and she has to leave before Maggie can respond.
Still, she does it. Not perfectly, and not entirely in the English language, but she knows that Maggie understands.
Step Six: Figure It Out As You Go Along*
(*The Alex Danvers Scientific Method Addendum. Patent pending.)
Two months pass, and nothing much changes. Alex comes out to Kara and J'onn, and they're both supportive. Kara fights bad aliens. Winn makes nerdy commentary. Alex gets to shoot things sometimes. Maggie continues to suck at pool.
And Alex and Maggie stay friends. They hang out a couple times a week, but never as anything more than platonic buddies. They do have several serious conversations, when Alex is feeling confused or curious or just wants to talk. With the exception of a few parts of her past she prefers to gloss over, Maggie is basically an open book, and Alex enjoys learning everything she can about her. She loves being friends with Maggie. She truly does.
She tries not to think about Maggie outside of their time together, because then she gets distracted by thoughts of dimples and eyes she could fall into and perfectly calloused hands with fingers that link so perfectly with her own.
And that, well. That certainly isn't conducive to getting her job done.
Still, on one particular Sisterly Bonding night, Alex finds herself dumping her feelings out all over the orange chicken while Kara tries not to smile at her plight.
“What?” Alex asks.
“I've just never seen you like this. It's nice.”
Kara grins, and Alex lets her jaw drop.
“Nice? Seriously? Just for that, I'm taking the last eggroll,” Alex shoots back as she grabs the last appetizer from the box.
“I don't mean nice-nice. I mean nice like, I'm sure she probably feels the same way and is just waiting for you to be ready. It's still pretty new and all. You should talk to her about it.” Kara's expression is so earnest, and Alex lets the rest of her annoyance fade away.
She sighs. “Well, I...sort of already did.”
“Sort of?”
“I, um, alluded to it? When I came out to her.”
“I'm no love expert, but maybe try again? And this time, really do it. None of this 'alluding' stuff. Just tell her.”
Alex promises to think about it, and Kara is satisfied with that.
It turns out Alex isn't even lying, because it's almost all she can think about.
One week later, Maggie is over at Alex's apartment, helping her get ready. She's promised to be Alex's wingwoman at a nearby lesbian bar, and Alex roped her into also including wardrobe approval services.
“Do I have to start wearing flannel now? Isn't that what lesbians wear, right? Flannel?” Alex rambles as she stares at her closet, the contents of which suddenly seem all wrong. She grabs the navy blue mini dress she discarded five minutes ago and marches into her walk-in closet to give it another go. She leaves the door cracked so they can continue to talk.
Maggie snorts. “In Maine, maybe.” She waves. “You know, it's a stereotype for a reason. Some do, some don't. Whatever works for you. Honestly, you could go in your uniform and be good to go. I know a lot of women who go for that look.”
“Is that so?”
“It's a good look for you.”
Alex is thankful she's behind a closed door, because she can't keep a stupid, dorky smile off her face, and she's pretty sure she's blushing. She gives herself a mental shake, and with a quick glance in the full-length mirror, she's back out the door and standing resolutely in place.
It's time.
“I need to tell you something,” Alex starts, and maybe that wasn't the best opener, because now Maggie looks concerned.
“Of course.”
“I don't want to go tonight.”
“Sure, Danvers, it's your call. If you're not ready-”
“No, it isn't that.”
“Then what?”
“Well, lesbian bars are to pick up girls.”
Her statement is met with a confused frown.
“Yes? I thought you'd decided that's what you wanted.”
“Oh, I do. There's just one problem. I already know the one I want.”
Maggie stills, her eyes intense as she waits for Alex to continue.
Alex swallows. “It's you.” She holds up a finger to hold off any potential responses until she's done. “Yes, I know what I'm saying. This isn't a whim for me, and I really like you. However, if you aren't interested, just tell me, and we can still be friends. This doesn't have to be anything more than a potentially awkward moment.”
She drops the finger and waits the three seconds that seem to stretch into infinity before Maggie inches slightly closer.
“What a coincidence, Danvers,” Maggie says, and her smirk has a little swagger to it, but her eyes are all stars and melting sugar. “It's you for me, too.”
Alex moves one step, two steps closer, and now they're near enough to touch.
They've touched before, at pool games, in undercover parties, in a 1v1 sparring match Alex won't be forgetting this side of ninety years.
But nothing like this.
“Just to be clear...I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I'd like to date you. Be your girlfriend. You know. All that,” Alex says, and she can feel all the effects of the adrenaline pumping through her system. She isn't sure if she's excited or terrified.
Some mixture of both, probably.
She's never done this and wanted it before. Everything feels so heightened, the prickle of her skin where Maggie's hand nearly
Maggie nods. “I'd like that. I think we should probably start slow, but I will definitely be open to it when we get there.”
Oh. Oh.
“Good,” Alex says, her tongue clumsy in her mouth, and there's nothing else to say to stall for time. She doesn't want to stall for time. She's been waiting for light years already, it seems, and she can't bear to wait one more second.
“Alex.”
Alex raises her eyebrows, partially in question, partially in surprise, because this is the first time Maggie's ever called her by her first name.
“Is it alright if I kiss you now?”
Alex's voice seems to have gone on hiatus. She contemplates nodding, but that just seems so passive, and she just-
Alex launches herself at Maggie instead. She covers that last foot almost instantaneously, and before she knows what's happening, her lips are on Maggie's. It's a little too rough at first, but together they figure it out, and this. This is what she's been missing.
Maggie's lips are so soft, and she tastes like warmth and honey, and Alex has her hands on Maggie's hips, and Maggie runs her fingers through her hair. Her lips move gently against Alex's, and Alex can barely remember to breathe.
Maggie's body presses against hers, and Alex wants to cry with the perfection of it. She wants to revel in the sensation, but she also wants to pull the other woman closer, and is this what this is supposed to be like.
When Maggie's hands reach the bare expanse at the back of her dress, Alex breaks away with a small gasp, her fingers still grasping at cotton and warm skin.
Gently, Maggie pulls her head down and kisses her forehead, and Alex just stands there, reveling.
“So. No bar?” Maggie asks after a moment has passed.
“No bar.”
“We should probably slow down.”
Alex nods. “Yeah. Slow. Good idea.”
They both stand there panting, and Alex licks her lips, which still feel puffy and pleasantly tender.
“How do you feel about Boggle?” she suggests, and Maggie grins and raises a brow.
“Boggle?”
“And beer. I have both. What d'you say?”
“I'm down. Just be prepared to have your ass handed to you.”
“That's what you said about pool, so excuse me if I'm not quaking in my boots.”
“You're barefoot.”
“My metaphorical boots.”
“You could put the boots back on, you know. If you wanted.”
Alex bites her lip but can't help it when her mouth pulls back into a grin that might be a little bit like a smirk. “So when you were talking about how some women like my work attire...”
“Yes, that was code speak for, 'I think you're really hot in black, and I have a thing for boots.'”
“Mmm, I'll have to remember that,” Alex returns, and Maggie's dimples have made a reappearance, and it strikes Alex as suddenly tragic that she hasn't had the chance to kiss them yet.
But, slow. She leads Maggie out of the bedroom and into the living room where all her board games live. She has a gargantuan collection, thanks to Game Night, and she's fully prepared to be called a nerd by Maggie when she sees them. Maybe she'll even manage to keep herself from smiling this time.
“Boggle. Beer. Good company. Couldn't ask for a better first date,” Maggie says when they reach the living room.
“Just wait until you see my over-the-phone Thai food ordering skills.”
“I'm a lucky woman,” Maggie says, and holds out her hand.
Alex takes it, and their fingers fit together even better than they did in her memory.