47. Chapter 47

J’onn waves off the armed guards escorting Maggie to and from the DEO’s control room after she saves Alex’s life – and the lives of four other agents – in the field. Her ability to come and go as she pleases in his James Bond super spy lab is secured just by his dismissive nod, by his small grin, by his hand on her shoulder, and the words, “The DEO is in your debt, Detective Sawyer. And so am I.”

The process is more formal for Alex coming and going in the NCPD precinct.

She needs to fill out paperwork to get herself a special badge and she rolls her eyes at first because what, my FBI ID isn’t enough for you local cops, and don’t you know I’m in a rush to bring my girlfriend lunch and an update on the case? but then the officer at the desk leans over with a small, private smile, and she hands Alex the paperwork, already filled out.

Alex blinks as she recognizes Maggie’s tight scrawl, blinks as the desk officer tells her “Detective Sawyer already filled out your information, we just need your signature on pages three, and four, and five where I’ve marked the lines.”

Blinks because Maggie had remembered her stories about her aunt’s breast cancer in her medical history, remembered the surgery Alex had told her about having from a surfing injury when she was in high school, remembered her birthday, her address, her mother’s phone number and address in Midvale in case of emergency.

Blinks because Maggie hadn’t asked her anything; Maggie had simply… remembered. Maggie had listened. Maggie had cared.

Blinks and almost chokes when she does a double take at the first page; a double take because Maggie had checked the “married” box when the form asked whether Alex’s relationship status was “single”, “married”, or “divorced.”

Stupid choices, she could just hear Maggie muttering, and she could just see her smirking, her eyes lighting up with a question, her eyes lighting up with hope, when she checked the married box.

Alex blinks down tears and Alex smiles and Alex signs everywhere the desk officer tells her to.

She floats through the halls and slips next to Maggie’s desk, slapping the paperwork that she’d asked the desk officer to photocopy down in front of her without preamble, finger marking the “relationship status” question.

Maggie looks up at Alex’s face and Maggie looks down at Alex’s finger.

“Well, you’re not single, Danvers,“ she tells her, pushing back from her desk and standing, putting her hands on Alex’s waist.

“But I’m not married, either,” Alex protests, her fingers reaching up to run through Maggie’s hair.

Maggie glances down at the papers. “You signed them anyway,” she observes, and she gulps.

“I did.”

“Do you wanna be married, Danvers?”

“I do.”