384. Chapter 384

She forgets to eat when she’s stressed, and she forgets the day of the week when her shifts tend to bleed into each other.

Some years – years like this, years with Jeremiah and Cadmus and Rick Malverne and coming out, god, falling in love – she forgets her own birthday.

Maggie nudges Kara in the bar a few nights before Alex’s birthday.

“She hasn’t said anything about it, you know. Her birthday. I only know because it was on the forms we had to fill out with Pam down in HR. Does Alex not like her birthday or something? I don’t want to upset her if I – “

“No, no no no, Alex loves her birthday. Eliza always makes a big thing out of it, and I think it was the only time Alex felt like she was the center of things…” Kara trails off, adjusting her glasses and guilt flashing over her face.

Maggie hesitates before touching her shoulder, and Kara leans into her touch, a small smile on her face. She may still be getting used to sharing Alex’s love with someone – with trusting someone with Alex’s heart, with Alex’s soul, with Alex’s body – but she is getting used to it. Slowly. But it’s happening.

Finally.

“Were you thinking of doing something for her?”

Maggie shrugs and takes a swig of her root beer, leaning over the bar counter and watching Alex laugh with James and Winn at the pool table.

“Sure, I have some ideas. But I don’t know what traditions you guys have, and I didn’t want to impose or wreck anything for you all, you know?”

Kara smiles, and it’s genuine, because Maggie’s making it easier by the day to like her. To trust her.

“Kara! Maggie! Come back, Winn has no shot with you on his team!”

“Hehe, Winn having a shot. Nice work, Alex!”

“Oh my god, you guys, leave me alone. Kara! Maggie! Come back!”

Maggie and Kara lean into each other when they laugh, and as they stroll over to the pool table, Kara whispers to Maggie to meet her for lunch at Noonan’s tomorrow.

To plan for Alex’s birthday.

And plan, they do.

Because Alex might have forgotten her own birthday – or maybe she’s just not saying anything about it because she assumes everyone else has forgotten and doesn’t want to impose – but her family sure hasn’t.

Because when Alex gets home late a few days later, her apartment is crammed with the people she loves most.

Kara has somehow wrangled J’onn into a party hat, and James is laughing behind his camera, and Winn and Lucy are whooping as Kara giggles and claps when Maggie pulls her into her arms, Alex eagerly parting her lips for Maggie’s tongue, tugging Maggie closer, closer, both of them slightly off-balance, caught between laughing and crying and kissing, until Lucy shouts, “My god, you two, you’re gonna give J’onn a coronary, can you wait until we all go home?”

They part breathless with lust and breathless with laughter, and Kara bursts into Alex’s arms.

“Happy birthday, Alex,” she whispers into her ear, and Alex squeezes her tight, squeezes her close, close, close.

“You didn’t have to do this, Kara,” she says, because even though there are candles in a dozen donuts – like they do every year for her birthday – and even though the Bare Naked Ladies are blasting through the apartment – like they do every year on her birthday – she’d thought everyone forgot this year.

Hell, she almost had.

And she had so much blood on her hands this year – so very much blood – that she didn’t think anyone would find her worth celebrating, anyway.

But James does, gifting her with a photospread of her and Maggie in different stages of their relationship.

And Winn does, presenting her ceremonially with a specially-designed thigh holster for her alien gun.

And Lucy does, grinning from ear to ear as she gives her a lesbian sex handbook and a pair of handcuffs that makes Kara groan, Maggie gulp and bring her hand to her lips, and J’onn wish his newest daughter thought much more quietly.

And J’onn does, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he gives her a letter – because to write things down is to truly, truly say them – calling her his daughter, telling her how proud he is of her, telling her that nothing makes him happier than her happiness, telling her that he loves her, now more than ever.

And Kara does, squeezing her close as she gives her an entire array of gifts, ranging from a new set of medical gadgets from Caitlin Snow to a painting Kara made herself of Alex and Maggie cuddling on Kara’s couch. Alex cries, and Maggie isn’t far behind.

And Maggie does – love her, god, love her, think she’s worth celebrating, every single day and night and all the times in between – nervously presenting her with her tickets to their first hockey game, a handwritten card talking about love and need and joy and hope, and a dog collar with the name Gertrude engraved on it.

Alex weeps and she laughs and she weeps some more, and she doesn’t stop celebrating with her family until long after midnight, until long after her birthday is, technically, over.

But none of them stop celebrating her, stop laughing with her, stop taking turns holding her, because it doesn’t matter what day it is: Alex Danvers is always, always, always worth celebrating.