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Alex stops showing up at the alien bar. She stops showing up at Maggie’s crime scenes, stops answering her calls, stops replying to texts. She goes radio silent.
It only takes a day for Maggie to start to miss her.
It only takes one beer in the privacy of her apartment to admit that to herself.
It only takes three beers for her to admit that she’s scared.
She’s scared she’ll forget Alex’s face, forget how she would look at her, like Maggie was the only person in the room. She’s scared that she’ll forget her smile, or how she sounds when she laughs.
She’s scared that she’ll forget how right it had felt to have Alex’s lips on hers.
Once the thought digs its way into her mind, there’s no getting it out. She finds herself always looking for Alex, at every crime scene, in every crowd, anywhere she might even catch a glimpse of her.
She knows nothing bad has happened Alex - apart from having her heart broken by someone who just wanted her to be happy - because she asks every time se sees someone who might know.
Whether it’s Hank Henshaw, or one of the agents from the DEO, or even Supergirl, every time Maggie asks, and every time she gets the same answer.
She’s busy, but she’s okay.
—
It doesn’t take long for Maggie to start hallucinating.
Not literally hallucinating, but every so often she’ll catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of someone who looks like Alex.
Or maybe they don’t look like Alex at all, maybe they just have short hair, maybe they’re just wearing a leather jacket, maybe their laugh has the same lilt to it.
Maybe Maggie misses Alex so much that she’s projecting bits of her onto everyone she meets.
—
Maggie’s heart does that annoying little leap that it does around Alex as soon as she walks into the bar. She sees her, at the far side of the room, barely illuminated by the exit light above her head.
Finally.
She smiles, and Maggie thinks she’s forgiven.
She’s halfway across the room before she gets a proper look at her for the first time in a week and oh-
The woman isn’t Alex.
The hair is the same and the smile could fool her, but up close she is definitely not Alex.
Maggie keeps walking anyway, until she’s right in front of her.
It feels wrong, flirting with someone else, feels more like cheating than it should, but Maggie shoves the guilt down inside of her and tries to remember why she’s here.
Alex won’t return her calls, she doesn’t want to be around her right now, and so what if Maggie felt happy for the first time in a week when she thought she saw her. Right now she kind of just wants to forget about it.
And a beautiful woman giving her bedroom eyes seems like the best shot for now.
Maggie buys her a drink, and they talk. The woman introduces herself as Lexie, tells Maggie about her day job as a doctor, tells her about her family, tells Maggie a bit too much for a first meeting, if she’s being honest.
In turn, Maggie tells her about Alex. She doesn’t mean to, just lets slip that she works with her, and then she can’t seem to stop. She’s aware that she should, knows she isn’t helping her chances by talking about another woman (really knows this when she catches Lexie subtly rolling her eyes as Maggie says how great Alex is at pool), but she’s had a few too many drinks at this stage, so she keeps going.
Lexie tells her that her real name is Alexandra, and Maggie speaks before she can even think.
“Can I call you Alex?” Her voice sounds foreign, and she cringes as she asks, but she doesn’t take it back.
She says no.
It’s hardly surprising, and before Maggie can blink the woman is gone, mumbling something about unresolved issues and why would you even ask that.
And just like that, Maggie is alone again.
—
The second time it happens, Maggie doesn’t mistake the girl for Alex at first.
It’s only a week after the last incident, and Maggie has taken to spending every night at the bar, hoping (praying) that Alex will just show up.
She doesn’t.
Instead Maggie meets a girl who couldn’t be further from Alex if she tried.
She’s shorter than Maggie for a start, all blonde hair and curves and eyes that follow Maggie round the room. She sits next to her and leans in close to whisper and Maggie gets goosebumps. Three shots later and the hand on her thigh shifts upwards, and Maggie feels the room get 10 degrees hotter.
The alcohol hasn’t lifted her spirits at all, but she doesn’t resist when the girl takes her hand and leads her towards the bathroom.
Then they’re making out and all Maggie feels is emptiness.
The girl moves to her neck and Maggie’s eyes fill with tears, because this isn’t right.
None of this feels right, but she doesn’t stop her.
At least not intentionally.
Everything overwhelms her all at once, and as her tears threaten to spill she hears a voice ask, “Can I call you Alex?”
It takes a second to realise that she was the one said that, that somehow her drunken brain thought that to fix this all she had to do was convince herself she was with Alex.
The girl is shaking her head and looking at her with a mixture of pity and disgust, but Maggie doesn’t even care. She locks the cubicle door again once the girl leaves, and settles herself on the toilet.
It hits her hard all at once.
She wants Alex.
She didn’t realise how much she wants Alex until right now.
She definitely didn’t realise that she wants Alex so much that she can’t even bring herself to be with another woman.
She’s fucked.
—
Maggie texts Alex the following night, fresh off her revelation and ready to tell Alex exactly what she wants to hear.
That is, if she’ll let her say it.
I’ll be at our bar tomorrow night, meet me? I need to talk to you.
She puts an x at the end of her message, then deletes it, then puts two, deletes one, deletes two. She doesn’t know if she’s allowed to do that.
She gets a reply, the first since the kiss, and her heart soars.
Maybe.
It’s enough for now.
—
Maggie feels her heart sink more and more with everything Kara says.
She’d seen her alone at the bar and thought maybe Alex had brought her along for support. When she realises she’s actually alone, she still approaches. She wants to ask how Alex is, where Alex is, how she can fix things, but she falters when Kara’s eyes meet hers, brow furrowed, and this isn’t going to end well.
Kara looks at her with sad eyes, as she delivers the news.
She almost came, almost gave Maggie another chance, but she’s not ready.
Not yet.
And that should give her hope, that maybe someday she will be ready, but Maggie is too many drinks in to entertain that thought and she just feels deflated.
She nods, as Kara finishes speaking and turns to leave.
“Thanks, Danvers.” She calls out after her.
It feels wrong to say it to this sister, because Kara isn’t her Danvers, but it’s been so long since she’s said the words that they make her stomach twist. She thinks about the feeling, thinks about Alex, thinks about what could have been, as she orders another drink.
And another.
And another.
When she can’t really feel her face she decides it’s time to go home.
—
The crisp fall air is a shock to her system, and Maggie begins to sober up almost immediately. Alex didn’t show, Alex doesn’t want to see her. It repeats in her head until she feels ill, and she throws up at the side of the street.
It’s embarrassing, something she hasn’t done since college, but she can’t find it in her to care right now.
She’s tired and cold and just wants to go to bed, so she falls into the nearest taxi and gives the driver her address.
There’s a hint of something in the air, and it isn’t until Maggie leans her head against the seatbelt that she realises. The smell is strong suddenly, overwhelming and calming all at once, and Maggie’s heart drops uncomfortably to her stomach when she realises it smells like home. It smells like Alex.
There’s a side street coming up soon that the driver could cut down, that would cut the journey time, and the taxi fare, almost in half. Maggie debates for a second, thinks about telling the driver.
She doesn’t.
They pass the street.
Maggie leans into the seatbelt, leans into the scent for a little bit longer, and lets herself cry.