198. Chapter 198

Alex wants to touch Maggie. All the time.

She’s handsy at home, handsy in the bar, hell, she’s even starting to be handsy at the DEO (much to the relief of the other agents, because now she’s using her hands to skim her fingers across her girlfriend’s lower back, not threaten her soldiers with bodily harm).

And Maggie absolutely loves it.

Loves how Alex’s arms make her feel safe, how Alex’s lips make her feel warm, how Alex’s fingers make her feel hot beyond compare.

But at night, out and about? Strolling through town, walking past straight bars crawling with white straight men?

No no no.

And Alex doesn’t notice the jeers, doesn’t notice the open laughter and the wolf whistles and the suggestions as to where she and Maggie should spend their night, and doing exactly what.

She’s DEO trained and she’s sharp as a knife, but she’s also in love, for the first time, and so she doesn’t notice.

But Maggie? Maggie does.

She doesn’t take her hand out of Alex’s – she refuses to give in, no matter what her body is telling her to do, no matter what her instincts are telling her to do, no matter what her racing heart and pounding ears are telling her to do – but she stiffens, her smile falters, and that?

That, Alex notices.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Alex stops walking, right in front of a sports bar with men with beer on their breath and cigarettes in their lips loitering out front, and Alex focuses on Maggie, and Alex is, for once in her life, oblivious.

Maggie tugs Alex along, forward, and it’s the first time she’s ever surprised Alex with one of her touches – she’s always so careful about asking, about making sure – and Alex is the one who recoils this time.

“What the hell, Maggie? Did I do something, did I – “

“Alex, no, babe, it’s nothing, can we just – can we keep walking, please? Please?”

Alex doesn’t understand, and her eyes are narrowed, but Maggie’s eyes are wide and her voice is somewhat panicked and Alex calms, and Alex follows.

They lapse into silence on the rest of their walk home, and Alex doesn’t ask, because she’s convinced it’s her, that she’s done something, that Maggie’s upset with her, that she failed, that she’s messed it up, and she just wants to delay the inevitable as long as she can.

Maggie only speaks when Alex turns to her in the doorway of her apartment. “Do you want to come in?” she asks, and Maggie bristles because of course she does, because Alex hasn’t had to ask in weeks; it’s just gone unspoken.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” aren’t the words Maggie had planned to say, but they’re the words that come out of her mouth, and she regrets it instantly.

“I’m sorry, that was mean, I didn’t – Alex, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to fight with you, I – “

“Then what are you trying to do, Maggie? Because I’ve been going over it and over it in my head, and I can’t think of what I did wrong, I… was it because I was talking too much? Was I being selfish, was I – “

“What? No, Alex, it has nothing to do with you, I… can I come in?”

The tension seeps out of Alex’s shoulders at Maggie’s soft request, and she gives her a small smile.

“Always,” she says, and she hopes that’s what Maggie wants, because Kara is working tonight and god she doesn’t know what she’ll do alone if Maggie breaks up with her or something.

Maggie steps inside and wrings her hands and curls the side of her hair with trembling fingers and she paces, paces, paces, and she cracks open two bottles of root beer and she paces and wrings her hands some more. Alex just stares and Alex just waits, waits for her fate to be delivered.

And when Maggie finally speaks, Alex’s heart breaks, but not for the reason she’d expected it to.

“I love that you hold my hand, babe. I love that you always put your arm around me when we walk, that you kiss me all the time. I love it. I just… Sometimes, we’ll be in places where… where that kind of affection scares me. I…” Maggie takes a long swig of root beer and shifts to the couch, and Alex sits next to her quietly, their thighs touching. Alex hesitates before putting her hand on Maggie’s leg, and Maggie offers a small smile and a nod before she continues speaking.

“When I was a kid, the first girlfriend I had – not really a girlfriend, I guess, she was just in it to… I don’t know, use me as her straight girl science experiment or something – I was cocky. I was stupid. I held her hand, I kissed her in public. And the guys in town… didn’t like that. Captain of the football team decided I needed to be taught how to keep my dirty hands to myself.”

Alex swallows and her hand shakes slightly on Maggie’s thigh, because she’s never wanted to murder anyone quite this badly.

“I was small, he was five nine. Turns out he didn’t actually want me to keep my hands to myself, just off pretty blonde white girls.”

She’s not looking at Alex, but she knows Alex is looking at her, and somehow, her gaze wraps her up, makes her safe. Makes her warm, makes her loved. She keeps talking.

“And in college, I figured I was out of Blue Springs, right, it was a college town, things would be better, people would actually know that brown lesbians exist, like, great right? Except it wasn’t, because I walked past this bar – this sports bar – “

Comprehension dawned on Alex and her heart shatters and guilt swarms through her stomach. Maggie’s not looking at her, still, but Maggie knows, and she turns and puts her hand to Alex’s cheek.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ally. I was walking past this sports bar and holding this girl’s hand, and basically the same thing happened as it did when I was a kid, except by college I had a black belt and was a bit stronger than I was at 15. But it still… Anyway, my point… my point is, it makes me nervous. Being affectionate with women. In certain places.”

Alex nods and refuses to let tears leak out, because this is about Maggie right now.

“I’m sorry,” she rasps, and Maggie shakes her head firmly.

“I told you, you didn’t do anything wr – “

“That’s not what I’m sorry about.”

Maggie goes silent and looks down and after a long, long moment, she lets herself tilt sideways into Alex’s body. Slow, reluctant tears slip down Maggie’s face and her shoulders tremble violently, so Alex whispers to her and Alex kisses her hair and Alex pulls her into her lap and holds her, holds her, holds her.

“No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” Alex whispers after a long while, and Maggie shakes her head and pulls back slightly so she can look Alex in the face.

Her mascara is smeared and her eyes are red, and Alex has never seen her look so perfect.

“You can’t promise that,” Maggie croaks, and Alex’s heart breaks, because she knows Maggie’s right.

She swallows rage and she swallows hatred, and she pours love and devotion and pure, pure protection into the kiss she presses to Maggie’s nose.

“How about I just promise to always be by your side, whether we’re holding hands or not?”

Maggie smiles slowly, then, mischievously, then.

“You proposing or something, Danvers?”

Alex returns the smile and pulls Maggie back into her embrace.

“I love you, Maggie Sawyer. I love you so damn much.”