22. Chapter 22

It all started with a bet.

“Oh please, Danvers, you think you have game with women?” Lucy had teased, shoving her shoulder into Alex’s with a familiarity that made Maggie cock an eyebrow and wonder how much game Alex had unknowingly had with Lucy in the past.

“I must, I have the finest woman on the planet, don’t I?”

“Whoaaaaa!” James and Winn chorused, spilling their beer slightly, and Maggie laughed.

“See, look how smooth my girl is.”

“And let’s not forget that thigh holster.”

“Oof, that thigh holster.”

Alex’s ears reddened at the attention -- at truly, thoroughly enjoying the attention for the first time in her life, from a woman who was in love with her and from friends who loved her -- and shook her head, pointing her beer bottle back at Lucy.

“No no no, let’s not forget that Lane questioned my lesbian honor! No game with women. Pfft.”

“Okay Danvers, prove it. Pick a woman -- not your woman -- and pick her up. With your smooth, not at all awkward moves.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed and Maggie shook her head defeatedly as James and Winn thumped her comfortingly on the back.

“That okay, baby? You wouldn’t get jealous?”

“Oh, I might get jealous, Danvers. But then I get to take you home and show you just how mine you are, so I think I’ll survive.”

Winn whooped and James and Lucy choked on their beer, and Alex didn’t know whether to dive under the table in embarrassment or drag Maggie into the bathroom then, there, and now.

But her pride was on the line, so she chose the third option. She scoped around the bar, eyes out for a woman to try to pick up. She’d show Lucy Lane.

No game with women. Pfft.

“Okay,” she said. “What about her? She’s hot.”

Lucy oofed and James nodded respectfully and Winn put a mockingly supportive hand on Maggie’s shoulder.

“Nuh uh, Danvers. I know that girl. She’s a criminal. A violent criminal.”

Alex’s eyes glistened with the challenge.

“Still hot, though.”

“That’s the spirit, Danvers!” Lucy all but dragged her out of her chair and shoved her toward the woman she’d picked out.

James left the bar with a burnt forearm, Winn with a pair of bruised ribs; Maggie with a cut above her eyebrow, Lucy with scraped knuckles, Alex with a laceration on her torso and a ridiculously heavy bar tab.

“Told you she was a violent criminal, babe.”

Alex nodded, but she grinned as she fished something out of her back pocket.

“I got her number though.”