194. Chapter 194

She doesn’t tell Alex that her birthday is coming up.

She doesn’t tell her, because it doesn’t occur to her: it’s never been a priority for anyone she’s dated before. She’s never been a priority for anyone she’s dated before.

And in school, before there was dating, there were white kids, straight kids, who glared and who took her lunch money and who would make a regular day ten times worse when it was supposed to be her special day.

So she doesn’t tell her, but Alex knows anyway, because Alex is observant and Alex may or may not have had Winn hack into Maggie’s file because she’s gotta have a birthday sometime and she knows Maggie, knows that she’s not the type to tell her, to expect anything.

But she should expect something – she should expect everything – because Alex notices, and Alex pays attention, and Alex dotes on her.

So the morning of Maggie’s birthday, Alex gets up for her run extra early. She says nothing out of the ordinary as she kisses Maggie’s temple, as she makes sure she’s snuggled tight into the sheets. She says nothing as she tiptoes back into the apartment an hour later, sneaking extra quietly because she has extra things in tow. Lots of extra things.

Half a dozen helium balloons – one in the shape of a motorcycle – and pancakes and syrup and eggs and coffee from Maggie’s favorite bodega, and, to her own surprise, a stuffed animal puppy with wide, excited eyes and tongue hanging out.

Stealthy as she tries to be, the motorcycle balloon knocks onto the door frame, and Maggie sits up groggily.

“Al?” she asks, her voice scratchy and thick with sleep.

“Morning birthday girl,” Alex smiles as she drops everything on the counter and pads into the bedroom – her bedroom, rapidly becoming their bedroom.

“Birthday – what – Ally, how’d you – you – why would you – “

“Because,” Alex explains, pushing Maggie back gently by the shoulders, straddling her and kissing her soundly as Maggie’s groggy confusion turns into a sleepy, perfect smile. “The world became a much better place the day you came into it, Maggie Sawyer. And that needs to be celebrated, don’t you think?”

Maggie sighs breathily and arches her body up sleepily as Alex traces kisses from her lips down her jawline and her neck.

“Alex, you… you didn’t have to go to any trouble – “

Alex stills and leans back to look down at Maggie with a furrowed brow and anger at past lovers in her eyes. “Maggie, celebrating you? Treating you like you deserve to be treated? Why would that be any trouble?”

Maggie arches an eyebrow and says nothing, because she can’t say anything, because this must be what birthdays are supposed to feel like, and she glances over Alex’s shoulder and sees the motorcycle balloon and laughs and squeals like it’s Christmas morning and flips Alex off of her and pads across the apartment to see what else Alex got her.

Alex laughs as she sits back up, as she watches, as she follows, and she checks her phone to make sure that Kara and the others are still on for tonight.

Because as thrilled as Maggie is with the balloons and breakfast and stuffy, Alex Danvers hasn’t even begun yet.

There are flowers from her girlfriend on Maggie’s desk at the precinct when she gets there, and all her colleagues know, and all her colleagues thump her on the back and pile bottles of wine and hockey tickets and Supergirl action figures (from their kids) and lesbian sex dice (from her teasing, laughing work partner) onto her desk throughout the day, and Maggie knows exactly who is responsible for making sure everyone knew and shook down with gifts.

Lunch – from her favorite vegan restaurant across town – is delivered to her in the field by one Adrian Rodriguez, the bill footed by one Alex Danvers, Adrian’s absence from physics class excused by Alex Danvers, who has agreed to tutor him in everything he’s missing and pay his train fare so he didn’t have to put out a dime for anything, except for the comic book he’s gotten made for Maggie, tracing the story of her and him and a bunch of the other queer kids she’s helped out and befriended over the years, and Maggie tries not to cry because she’s at work, dammit, but she cries anyway.

And Adrian accompanies to the bar that night – “no alcohol for you, mister underage” – and Maggie expects it to just be Alex, but she should have known better by now, because not only is it Alex: it’s Alex and Kara and M’gann and James and Winn and J’onn, but it’s also her sister and her niece and her favorite cousin and her best (and only) friend from back home.

And it’s all her favorite music blasting out of the bar speakers and it’s a massive vegan rainbow cake and it’s streamers and it’s her girlfriend decked out in a tight red dress, and Maggie knows exactly what she’s wearing underneath it and exactly how her last birthday gift for this year is going to be given to her, and she licks her lips and she has no words for her perfect girlfriend, but Alex doesn’t need them because her smile is enough, and she tries to hold in her tears but she doesn’t have to, doesn’t have to, because this is her family, her family, her family, and – for once – everyone just wants to celebrate her.