Sanvers

Alex's eyes cracked open, but immediately slammed shut again when confronted with the shining light of day streaming in through her bedroom windows. She reached out and felt around on her nightstand, finally finding her power cord and following it to the floor, where she had apparently left her phone the night before. She squinted at the screen, noting the 9:43 at the top. Her eyes bulged and she leapt out of the bed, realizing exactly how late she was for work.

She immediately regretted moving so quickly, as the enormity of her hangout settled squarely behind her eyes in the form of a jack hammer.

"Oh god…" she lurched toward the bathroom and unceremoniously threw-up. "Oh god," she repeated, resting her cheek on the cool tile floor of the bathroom.

As Alex closed her eyes, blips of scenes from the prior 24-hours flashed on the back of her eyelids:

Maggie telling her, "You're real, and you deserve to have a real, full, happy life."
Alex telling Kara about being gay and liking Maggie "so much."
Kara encouraging her to "go get" Maggie.
Seeing Maggie.
Telling Maggie she came out to Kara.
Hugging Maggie.
Kissing Maggie.
Being rejected by Maggie.
Drinking about Maggie.
Being humiliated by Maggie.
Spilling to Kara about Maggie.
Kara hugging her, because of Maggie.
Crying herself to sleep over Maggie.

Everything was Maggie and all of a sudden, everything felt raw again. She closed her eyes, willing the visions of Maggie's surprised and pitied face out of her head.

Twenty (or thirty) minutes later, Alex startled back awake to the sound of her phone vibrating on the floor next to her face.

Kara: Are you still sleeping, beauty?

Alex rolled her eyes at Kara's typically cheesy text, and typed out a quick response, squeezing one eye shut while she tried to focus her hangover on the tiny buttons on the phone.

Alex: Up about half an hour. U at DEO? Will be in soon. Cover w Hank.

She groaned as she planted her palms on the floor and pushed herself to her feet, daring to turn toward the mirror. It took but a fraction of a second for Alex to realize she looked about as good as she felt. Her face was pale and her eyes bloodshot and outlined with dark circles. Her hair was unkempt and greasy, plastered partially to one cheek. Just as she started to peel off her clothes so she could jump in the shower, Alex's phone buzzed again.

Kara: You're not coming in. Told Hank you're sick already… if you come now I'll look like a liar.

Alex groaned. She had never taken a sick day in her life. But she appreciated that Kara had been looking out for her.

Kara: Also, there's a present on the kitchen counter.

Alex grinned, guessing already that Kara had brought her donuts. She padded groggily to the kitchen, immediately noticing the white paper bag and a note.

A-
Hope you don't feel like complete death. Take the day… I've got you. But you only get one day, so you better use it wisely. I expect you back by my side tomorrow and kicking ass. I'll be by tonight to check on you—and tell you about a new op.
-K
PS: Iced coffee in the fridge.

Alex grinned and lunged for the door of the fridge, taking a long, satisfying sip of a perfect iced coffee and shoving one of the two donuts Kara had left her in her mouth. She was sufficiently intrigued about the new op Kara was promising her, but knew she wouldn't hear anything until Kara came over—which would be hours from then.

Alex took another look at the coffee in her hand, glanced at the note telling her to take the day off, and smiled slightly. If she was being forced to stay home, she'd at least take advantage of it. She put the coffee back in the fridge, pulled her curtains tight, and dove back into bed, burying her face in her pillow.

[TWO WEEKS LATER]
-

Maggie slipped the edge of her flathead screwdriver into the corner of the window screen and popped it out, easily. She did the same to the small, rectangular window and soon was shimmying down into the cold, damp, concrete-lined cellar. She glanced around, flipping on a light switch in the corner that was connected to a single bulb suspended from the ceiling. To her relief, she quickly spotted her laptop in the corner, still plugged in and ready to go.

Maggie had been in this same room but a week prior after completing the initial recon for the night's mission. She fired up the laptop and curled up in the corner as she swiftly logged in through three different security screens. Finally, she accessed a video hub with eight different video feeds, all operational.

"Perfect," she said to herself.

Maggie deftly scrolled through the video feeds, waiting for the action to start and ensuring all of the video equipment was working properly. It was 6:45, so it would likely be an hour or so before the party hit full swing, but guests started arriving shortly after Maggie started monitoring the mansion. Soon enough, Maxwell Lord entered the frame of the video by the front door, greeting his guests one-by-one as they arrived.

"And there's King Douche… promptly on time…" she chuckled to herself as she wrote down the names of as many arriving guests as she could identify.

Maggie was grateful for this op, one in which she could fully commit herself and dive in, and not be distracted by the depressing mess that had been her personal life since Alex had kissed her more than two weeks before.

She had just begun to really, truly enjoy having the agent around, and depended on her, rather than booze or sex, as a way to level herself out. Alex was comfortable and soothing; she was the first person Maggie had ever been friends with who understood her job and with whom she could be completely honest. She didn't have to put on with Alex. In fact, Alex didn't tolerate that. When Maggie put up her walls, when she tried to hide her disappointment or fear behind sarcasm or wit, Alex called her out. She liked that—a lot.

So when Alex came out to her, and then subsequently kissed her, she knew she had to stop it, despite all internal desires to the contrary. She couldn't let Alex become just a woman she dated. She couldn't let Alex be another woman she let down. She just couldn't let Alex become something other than what she was at exactly that moment—her one and only friend.

Of course, Maggie hadn't fully prepared herself or her heart for the look of pure devastation on Alex's face. She hadn't thought about the fact that she would be destroying Alex either way.

And she had tried to make it right since then—she had really tried. But her calls went unanswered and her texts went unread. It wasn't until Maggie ran into Supergirl at a crime scene two days ago that she was able to even confirm that Alex was physically okay and unharmed.

"Hey… ummm… Supergirl," Maggie had asked, hesitantly .

"Yes, Detective?" she responded with clear uninterest.

"Uh, I was just… I was just wondering how Alex was? She hasn't been answering…."

"I know she hasn't," the super hero cut her off. "She doesn't want to."

"But she's fine," she added, clearly after seeing the look of concern and sadness that had crossed Maggie's face.

"She is?" Maggie had asked, hopefully.

"Yeah. No thanks to you."

She had flown away after that, leaving Maggie to stew in her own sadness.

Maggie literally shook her head, trying to rid herself of those distracting thoughts, and refocusing on the operation at hand. More and more people were filing into the party by then, and she really needed to keep track of the guest list.

Shortly after 7:30, as Maggie's eyes continued to scan all of the frames of video looking for anything out of the ordinary, she froze. Maggie's eyes locked on the front door feed in the top right of her four-video split-screen. Her view was partially obscured by Max as he wrapped his arm around the waist of the woman who had just crossed the threshold, but Maggie would have recognized her anywhere. The dark green dress hugged her hips and legs with a practiced precision, and Maggie caught a glimpse of dark brown curls gracing the woman's bare shoulders.

Without a doubt, Alex Danvers had arrived.

Maggie's jaw clenched, involuntarily, as Maxwell Lord continued to run his hand along Alex's lower back, guiding her through the room and introducing her to a few people. Maggie watched with rapt attention, hoping desperately that her perception of the situation was off; that somehow, the obvious relationship between Maxwell and Alex was not what it seemed.

With little fanfare, Maggie had completely forgotten all of the other video feeds. She followed Alex from room to room, guiding the cameras where necessary, so that she didn't miss a single step or movement. It was immediately clear that Alex was Max's date, as he flagged down a waiter to grab two champagne flutes for them, and he refused to leave her side. To Maggie's horror, Alex did not seem to mind, even leaning into some of Max's more obvious and obnoxious physical advances: an arm around her waist, a hand around her wrist; a kiss on her cheek—her jaw. Maggie grew more and more nauseous with every gesture between the two, certain that she had it all wrong.

Alex was gay, right? That's what she told you not two weeks ago? When she kissed you?

Almost twenty minutes went by with Maggie continually failing to monitor the house at large, like she had been tasked to do. It wasn't until there was an obvious commotion (a dropped and broken glass) in another room that Maggie realized that she couldn't focus solely on the feed that followed Alex.

Despite her determination to keep an eye on the whole party, as intended, Maggie found that her gaze continued to drift to the beautiful woman in the dark green strapless dress. After a while, she and Max moved to the main ballroom where a band in the corner serenaded the guests with songs that spanned several decades. Alex and Max joined the other dozen or so couples who were dancing, and Maggie again found it impossible to focus on her job.

The natural intimacy between Alex and Max floored her. Their hips melted together, like they were built for each other. Alex's arms draped over Maxwell's shoulders as they danced, her finger nails tracing their way through the faded nape of Max's hair, as if she had been doing so for years. For all Maggie knew, she had.

Maggie tried to ignore the way her stomach curled over itself and her limbs felt simultaneously like lead and as if they were weightless. Her jealousy consumed her, and she recognized as much.

Maggie's focus on her mission continued to wane over the next few hours, still unceremoniously following Alex's movements throughout the party. She watched as Alex chatted, effortlessly, with National City's movers and shakers, and even more effortlessly as she continually drifted towards Maxwell, seemingly drawn to him by force. She hated how she could see—even through the grainy video feeds—how Alex's eyes sparkled while she laughed at some joke Maxwell told her, and how her finger tips traced the edges of Max's belt inside his suit jacket.

Eventually, they returned to the ballroom and began dancing again. Maggie's brow furrowed as she watched Alex react to Max's whispers over the top of her ear, subtly closing her eyes and leaning into Maxwell's touch. When Maxwell pulled Alex's face towards his with hands framing both sides of her jaw, and he planted a long, wet kiss onto her lips, Maggie grew nauseous. Alex's smile lit up the frame as they pulled apart, and she leaned forward to whisper into Maxwell's opposite ear.

Maggie couldn't keep watching this.

She disgustedly reached for the control, about to zoom away from the pair when she was suddenly engulfed in blackness.

Maggie panicked, uncertain for a moment exactly what had happened before realizing that all of the power had been cut. Her feeds had gone dead, as had the overhead light in the server room. Knowing that she may have been compromised, Maggie immediately shut her laptop, depriving herself of the last meager source of light, and enveloping her in pure darkness.

Maggie set the laptop back on the ledge where she had left it and felt along the side wall so that she was positioned behind the door. If someone was coming in there, she would be ready.

She stood motionless for a few moments; the only sound she could hear was the deep thudding of her own heart inside her chest. It had been years since Maggie had been caught on a covert mission.

Just as she was starting to think it may have been a coincidence, and began to relax, she heard slow, faint footsteps outside the door. Whoever was there was trying to avoid detection. Maggie braced herself. She still couldn't see anything in the darkness, but she heard the slight sound of the metal door latch moving against the frame as the knob was turned. The door opened towards Maggie and she instantly leapt into action. She grabbed the forearm attached to the door handle and twisted it behind the invader's back, shoving them face-forward towards the opposite wall. She felt the person begin to struggle under her grasp, but she had the upper hand and the element of surprise.

Maggie squeezed harder and jammed her knee into the back of a thigh, further pinning the assailant into the wall. After a slight struggle, Maggie finally pressed her full weight against the intruder and used her free arm to press her forearm into the back of their neck to be certain they weren't going anywhere.

"If you move a single fucking inch, I'll snap this wrist," she threatened, pulling the hand even further behind their back.

"… Maggie?" she heard, earnestly, in a whisper.

Maggie froze.

She stared, demanding her eyes to focus and adjust to the darkness; desperately trying to see who she held against the wall, pressed into with complete authority.

"Maggie, is that you?"

The question pierced the silence and broke the darkness, almost as if it were itself a light bulb. Maggie's eyes suddenly came into focus on the jaw line of the woman she had pinned against the cold cement cellar walls.

Alex Danvers.

Suddenly Maggie was keenly aware of how the front of her body was pressed into Alex's back, chest expanding against her back as she breathed and they both processed the encounter.

Finally, Maggie stepped back and released her hold on Alex, still silent.

Maggie's eyes began to further adjust, and she took in the outline of Alex's stealth form shaped by her dress as she turned away from the wall and towards Maggie. She brought her free hand around and rubbed over the wrist Maggie had twisted behind her back, attempting to soothe it.

Maggie pressed forward, taking Alex's injured wrist between both hands.

"Alex, I'm… I'm so sorry, I didn't know who… I didn't expect you… Are you okay?" she asked, trying to mask her concern.

Alex tried to be unaffected by the way Maggie's thumbs slid over her wrist where her pulse throbbed through the tender skin.

"Ummm… yeah… I'm, I'm fine, Maggie," she said, gently.

Maggie forced herself to look up and make eye contact with Alex, eyes glistening in the faint shine of the moon that lilted in through the small window at the ceiling of the cellar. Their eyes had both focused in the darkness, and they stood there silently, each taking in the other woman in front of them for the first time in weeks, as their hands ghosted over the wrists and palms of the other.

A minute passed, and then another. Neither dared break the spell that had fallen over them. Finally, Alex took in a deep breath, and spoke.

"Maggie, what are you doing here? Why are you in here?"

Maggie paused for a moment, debating how much information she should share with Alex. She quickly opted for the complete truth. She took in a deep breath, still holding Alex's hand and wrist in her own.

"Almost two weeks ago, we received an anonymous tip that a contingency of rogue aliens intended to break into Maxwell Lord's business to hack his server and steal some of his technology—including…"

Maggie paused, realizing the implications of part of their intelligence.

"Including what, Maggie?" Alex pressed.

"… including a formula he's developed to make synthetic kryptonite."

Maggie knew that the DEO had real kryptonite under lock and key, but had obviously recognized that the ability for any bad guy to make a synthetic version put Supergirl at grave risk. And Maggie knew that Supergirl meant a great deal to Alex, even if she didn't fully understand the nature of their relationship.

"Okay…" Alex said, seemingly unfazed. Maggie realized she had to continue her explanation.

"So we went to Maxwell. We told him what we knew, and asked him to allow us to investigate and set up a sting. He refused. He said he'd take care of it himself. But… but Alex we couldn't allow that. That's not good enough. And this isn't just about some rich guy getting his invention stolen… this… this could be really dangerous for Supergirl and for National City."

She took a breath, expecting Alex to express some gratitude. But when Alex silently removed her arm from Maggie's grasp and just continued to stare at her, Maggie took a breath and spoke again.

"So, we initiated our own operation, without Max's help. I came in here last week while we knew he was away and stashed a half dozen cameras around the mansion, and I plugged into his server down here so I could monitor them on a low frequency signal. We figured that whoever intended to hack Lord's server would have to do it manually by breaking into this server room—his security is too good, otherwise."

"So you've been spying on Max's party?" Alex asked, coolly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Alex, it's not like that, I've…"

"No, it's exactly like that, Maggie. You hid cameras around a civilian's house, and then have been spying on him and his guests during a social engagement."

Maggie just stared at Alex, unable to process her reaction.

"You seem shockingly unconcerned about the possibility of synthetic kryptonite getting out, Alex."

"And you seem shockingly concerned about things that don't concern you, Maggie," Alex responded, sharply.

Maggie paused for a moment, and then exhaled. "Alex, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… as I've acknowledged, I've been watching most of this party," Maggie paused, uncertain if she should continue. "So… What are you doing, Alex? With Max?" she almost breathed the last question.

"Why do you care?" Alex snapped.

"I just… I just know what you said to me, Alex, and… it seems like this isn't…. it isn't what's right for you, Alex."

"And you think you're the right person to tell me what's right for me?"

"Well… no, I just…"

"No. Stop it."

"What?" Maggie asked, sheepishly.

"Just stop it, Maggie. You don't get to tell me what is right for me."

"No, that's not what I'm…"

"Stop it. Just stop it." She held a hand up in the air, palm towards Maggie. "I'm going to talk now, and you're going to just stand there and listen."

Maggie nodded, crossing her own arms, defensively.

"You walked me to the edge, Maggie." Alex took a deep breath. Maggie waited in pure silence.

"I stood at the edge of the steepest, sharpest, most terrifying cliff I had ever seen. And I looked down, and there you were. And you were looking up at me with your beautiful smile, and your shimmering eyes, and… and those fucking dimples that always show up when I least expected it, and… and made my knees give way just a little bit every time." Alex took a shaky breath.

"And I got lost in those eyes. And I clung to every word you said. And those words were comforting and encouraging and… and they were the exact words that no one had ever said but I had always needed to hear. You told me that I could jump; you told me that it was safe to jump, Maggie."

Maggie's eyes didn't leave Alex as she started to pace slightly, and ran her fingers through her perfectly curled hair. Alex stopped, reconnecting their eyes and starting again.

"And I looked at every rock that stuck out from that cliff, and I tried to avoid jumping—to cling to anything I could that would mean that I didn't have to leave the top of that cliff. But there was nothing left there for me. There was only you, and you were standing there at the bottom of the cliff with your arms wide open and your lips telling me that it would be okay. You told me to jump, Maggie. And I believed you."

Those last two words almost broke Maggie, as Alex's voice faltered and her eyes slipped close in the darkness as she exposed herself, emotionally, to the woman in front of her.

"And so I opened my eyes, and I looked down at your open arms and your open smile, and I dove head first. I didn't even step off; I dove head first—straight for you, Maggie. And when I dove I closed my eyes, and I felt so free and so… so happy. And then I opened my eyes, and you had moved. You weren't there to catch me anymore."

Maggie could hear Alex's voice crack again, and she forced herself to look away, to avoid seeing Alex break.

But Alex was having none of it. She took a strong step forward and placed one hand on Maggie's cheek, forcing Maggie's eyes to meet her own.

"So I crashed, Maggie. I dove head first for you, but you moved. And I crashed and shattered into a million pieces. So you…"

Alex took another deep breath.

"So you don't get to judge how I put myself back together," she said, mustering up as much confidence as she could manage before letting her hand drop abruptly from Maggie's face. The cold of the cellar immediately replaced the warmth of Alex's hand on Maggie's cheek. "You don't get to judge who I use to put those millions of pieces back together." Maggie almost didn't recognize the venom that seeped through Alex's whispered words.

Maggie's shoulders deflated. "So… you are with Maxwell Lord?" she asked, hesitantly.

"You've been spying on his party all night, Maggie. I trust you can answer that for yourself."

Maggie's chin dropped to her chest as she fought back the tears forming in her eyes.

"Now get the hell out of here, Sawyer. Take your computer. Don't come back, and don't mess with Max again."

Maggie looked at her, confused.

"This is your one and only chance to get out of here without Max knowing what you were doing," Alex stressed.

For a split second, Maggie saw promise in Alex's pleading eyes. She realized that Alex was trying to protect her, despite all the pain Alex had just laid bare.

"You have less than 60 seconds, Sawyer," Alex repeated.

And instantly, Maggie knew she had to react. Alex would sell her out if she wasn't long gone. Maggie snatched her laptop and pulled the power cord from the wall, scrambling up the step ladder to the partially exposed window at the top of the ceiling that she had slipped in through. She pushed one leg through, and just as she was about to duck totally out of the server room, she chanced another glance at Alex. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something there again. But Alex promptly turned on her heel out the door she came in through, and Maggie strode the rest of the way out into the night. A few steps away from the Lord mansion, she turned down a side street to her parked car, and couldn't help but notice the light flicker back on in the server room she had just abandoned.