Margarita Rodas held the envelope carefully. This was what she had been waiting for. Was she ready for it? It seemed so final. She took a deep breath and opened the flap. It was what she wanted. Official confirmation of her change of name from Margarita Elena Rodas to Maggie Ellen Sawyer.

Maggie let out a deep breath and sank onto the couch. She was free to start her new life, and she couldn't think of a better way to do it than to take the surname of the aunt who had, literally, saved her from her bigoted parents.

Maggie looked around the tiny, one-room basement apartment that had been her home for the past six months. In eight weeks' time, she was going to join the next group of trainees at the National City Police Department, and she couldn't wait. She had always wanted to join the police, but she didn't want her birth name to go with her. She hated that her father might be able to track her movements. Now, if he ever came across the name of Maggie Sawyer, it wouldn't even register with him. She picked up her watch from the side table, and strapped it to her wrist. Her shift at the 24-hour café was about to start. She couldn't wait until she could work more normal hours. She knew that police work would not be nine to five, but at least she wouldn't be working 9pm to 5am every night.

She was there again. The beautiful girl. Dressed to kill in tight leather pants, a low-cut blouse, lots of make-up. She looked like she was out for a good time, but she never seemed to be having a good time.

She came in virtually every night, dressed fancy, and drank two strong cups of coffee before she headed for the bar opposite. Some nights she stumbled back in, around 2am or 3am, clearly worse for wear, and in need of a strong, black coffee with far too much sugar. Maggie was always ready with her order by the time she came to the counter. To start with, the girl didn't acknowledge her, but she had started to give her a small smile, a nod of thanks. She always tipped well.

Tonight, it was after 2am when the door to the café pinged as it opened. Maggie always tensed slightly; she could never be completely confident about her night customers. Most of the time, they were fine. Sometimes drunk. Often loud. Occasionally obnoxious. She didn't mind those. It was the ones that were high that she dreaded. Most of them were okay, but sometimes they were unpredictable. And Maggie liked control. She liked to know what was going to happen. She looked up. It was the beautiful girl. She was trashed; Maggie could tell by her walk.

As she stumbled to the counter, Maggie could tell by her streaked mascara that she had been crying. "Sit down," she told her gently. "I'll bring it over."

The girl looked surprised. She nodded, and slumped into a chair at the nearest table. She was nursing her hand.

Maggie brought over the coffee. She saw that the girl's hand was badly bruised and swollen. "You okay?" she knew she shouldn't ask. It wasn't any of her business. But the young woman looked so fragile, so lost.

"Yeah," the girl answered, her head bowed. She looked up into Maggie's eyes. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Maggie nodded. She went back to the counter, and collected a baggie of ice, and a Danish. She set the Danish in front of the girl, and held out the ice. "It'll help with the swelling," she said.

The girl's eyes glistened with emotion. "Thanks," her voice was rough, and she couldn't hide a wince as she held the ice over the damaged limb. She saw the pastry. "I didn't order that."

"I know. I just thought it might help. If you had something in your stomach."

"To dilute the booze," the girl gave a bitter laugh. Her breathing hitched. "I'm sorry. You're kind. Thank you. I should go," she reached into her pocket and drew out her car keys.

Maggie tried to hide her shock.

"You think I can't drive?" the girl's voice was harsh.

"I think you shouldn't drive," Maggie tried to keep her voice even.

The girl's shoulders slumped again. "I was trying to catch a cab. But this guy … he … I just need to sleep."

"I could call you a cab now?" Maggie offered. The look of fear in the girl's eyes told her that that was a mistake.

"No!" the voice was panicked. "It's okay. I'll just sit here. Just for a couple of hours. Is that okay? I mean, you're open all night, right?"

"I have a better idea. I'm working until the morning. I have a room downstairs. Why don't you catch a couple of hours' sleep? It'll all look better in the morning."

The girl hesitated. "I … no, I don't want to inconvenience you, I'll ..."

"I won't even be there," Maggie told her gently. This was crazy, letting a stranger into her apartment. But what harm could it do? The only way out was through the coffee shop, and she didn't look like the type to trash her place. Also, there was nothing worth stealing. "Please."

The girl nodded. Carefully, she got to her feet and let Maggie lead her down to the basement.

The girl looked around. The room was tiny, but very neat. There was a couch, and an armchair, a small table, a cupboard with three drawers, and a radio. No television. "Sit," Maggie pushed her gently into the chair. She tugged on the couch and it opened out into a bed. "I put clean sheets on it this morning. The bathroom's over there." Maggie reached into a drawer and pulled out her biggest t-shirt. "I think this'll be big enough for you. You need anything?"

The girl shook her head. "Thank you." Her voice was full of shame.

Maggie touched her arm. "It's okay. You're okay."

When the girl came out of the bathroom, Maggie was no longer there. There was a bottle of water and a couple of Motrin on the arm of the couch. She crawled into bed.

SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG

Maggie smiled with relief when her co-worker arrived at 4.40am.

"You look shattered, Mags," he said. "Why don't you take off now?"

"Thanks Brett. I won't argue," Maggie grabbed her jacket and made her way quietly down the stairs.

When she opened the door, she used the small light on her keyring to find her way around. She didn't want to disturb the sleeping woman. She smiled when she saw that she had cocooned herself in the blankets, and was sleeping like a baby. Half of the water and both tablets had gone. Clearly the hangover had already kicked in.

Maggie quickly changed into her usual nighttime attire of singlet and boxers, grabbed a warm blanket from behind the couch, and snuggled into the armchair. It wasn't going to be the most comfortable sleep, but at least her guest was safe – and not driving.

When Maggie awoke just after 9am, she saw that the bed had been neatly returned to its couch form, and the t-shirt she had lent the girl was folded on the arm. There was a note next to it.

"You were so kind. I appreciate it. People like you are rare. Alex."

Maggie smiled. So her name was Alex. It suited her. Maggie knew that she shouldn't, but she lifted the t-shirt and held it to her nose. The scent was enchanting.

SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG

For over a week, every time the door pinged to admit a new customer, Maggie looked up in expectation. But it was never Alex. She hadn't come back. Maggie even checked out the bar opposite on her night off, but there was no sign of here there, either. She had just disappeared. A chance encounter that wouldn't ever happen again. She had no reason to feel as empty as she did. Hell, she hadn't even learned her name until it was too late. But there was something about her. Her fragility. And her strength. There was something indomitable about her.

SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG

Ten days later, Maggie looked up out of habit. The woman walking toward the counter looked completely different – and totally the same.

Gone were the slutty clothes and the long hair. And the heavy make-up. In front of her stood a young woman – maybe 22? – with only a trace of make-up, wearing jeans and a sweater. Most startling of all, her hair had been cut off, leaving her with a short cut that did everything to accentuate her perfect bone structure. She was carrying a parcel. She held it out shyly. "I wanted to say thank you," Alex said.

Maggie took the parcel and unwrapped it. It contained a small lamp, with daylight bulbs. She tipped her head to one side, and looked quizzically at Alex.

"Your bonsai isn't getting any light," Alex explained. "These bulbs mimic daylight. You've only got one small window down there. It'll be good for you. Stop you getting SAD. Seasonal Affective Disorder," she clarified. "I haven't come to comment on your mental state." She let out a small laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm not making any sense. I just wanted to thank you. I was … it's been a rough few months. I know I need to get a hold of myself."

Maggie noticed a few strands of cut hair on Alex's collar. "You only just got your hair cut now?"

Alex nodded. "I've been … hiding out. For the last few weeks. But now, I have to fix things. Starting with your bonsai tree," she pointed at the lamp.

Maggie pretended not to notice the tremble in Alex's hand. What had happened to her? Was she okay?

"It's wonderful," Maggie said. "Barney has been looking a bit down."

"Barney?"

"Barney The Bonsai," Maggie explained. "Don't you name your plants?"

"I don't have any plants," Alex said, the laughter leaving her eyes. There was pain there. Maggie could tell.

Maggie knew she had to be gentle. She almost cursed as another customer came into the shop. "Sit," she said to Alex, "I'll bring over your usual."

"I'm going decaff. For a while," Alex said.

Maggie nodded. She greeted the new customer. "I'll bring it over in a minute," she called to Alex.

The coffee shop suddenly became very busy, so Maggie was barely able to exchange a few words with Alex. And then she looked up to see Alex leaving. Alex raised her hand in a small greeting, and then she was gone.

It was another two weeks before Maggie saw her again. She was still casually dressed, but she looked thinner. And sadder. Was she sick?

"Decaff?" Maggie asked when she approached the counter. At least this time the shop was empty, just the two of them.

"Yeah. Please." Alex sounded defeated.

Maggie brought it over. She took a risk and lay a hand over Alex's. Alex flinched, but she didn't pull away. When she looked up, Maggie could see tears in her eyes.

"Alex, what is it?" Maggie asked, squeezing her fingers. She was gratified when Alex squeezed back.

"It's nothing," Alex took a shuddering breath.

Maggie just looked at her.

"I failed. My last year. I fucked up. I was doing well, but I fucked up."

"What were you studying for?"

"A medical degree."

"Wow. You must be a genius. Alex, you are still a good person. We all make mistakes. You can fix this. And you don't need letters after your name to be a worthy person. You'll get there."

Alex gave a bitter laugh. "I already have letters. I have a doctorate in bio-engineering. But I feel worthless. Nothing makes sense."

"You have a doctorate?" Maggie was trying to work out how many years of studying that would require – to say nothing of the medical degree on top of that. "But you look so young!" she blurted out.

"I'm 22," Alex told her. She held up a hand. "Went to college early, yadda yadda. It means nothing."

"Alex, what's happening? Why are you so down on yourself?" Maggie could have cursed when the door opened, admitting a gaggle of college kids. She fished into her pocket. "Go down to my apartment," she held out the key. "Please? I'll get cover. I'll tell them I'm sick. I want to talk to you."

"No, you can't, you can't risk your job."

"I'm leaving in three weeks," Maggie grinned. "I'm gonna be a cop. They won't fire me. Andy will cover for me, he's a good guy."

SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG-SG

It was a story that Maggie understood – probably better than most. Alex's father had died when she was 14, and ever since then, she had felt that nothing she did was good enough for her demanding mother. Added to the mix was an adoption, a new sister who had arrived just a year before the father died, and it seemed Alex was supposed to spend all her time taking care of her. When did Alex ever get time for herself?

"I've never told anyone. About this," Alex said, her hands around a cup of hot chocolate. "And I've just realized. I don't even know your name. This is crazy."

Maggie's eyes crinkled, and her dimples came out in full force. Alex found it hard to tear her eyes away. "I'm Maggie. Maggie Sawyer. Pleased to meet you."

"Alexandra Danvers. Though don't try calling me Alexandra. You'll regret it," Alex was laughing. She wiped her eyes. "Thank you. It has really helped."

"So what are you going to do?" Maggie spoke gently.

Alex shrugged. "I'll see if I can redo the exam in three months. That should give me time."

"Just three months?"

"I have a photographic memory," Alex smiled.

"So then you'll be Dr Dr Danvers?"

"I suppose I will. I hope I will." Alex stood, shakily. "I truly am grateful. Tennessee Williams wasn't kidding about the kindness of strangers."

"I'd like us to be friends," Maggie suggested shyly.

"Me too. Here," Alex reached into her pocket. "Give me your phone."

Maggie smiled as Alex tapped in her own number, and the phone in Alex's back pocket rang with the theme from Star Wars."

"Nerd," Maggie grinned, as Alex handed her phone back. "I've got your number, now, Danvers," she teased.

"Oh I think you got my number weeks ago, Dimples," Alex laughed. She pulled Maggie into a hug. "Thank you. You've helped me more than you know."