489. Chapter 489

It’s Alex’s first Pride.

It’s Alex’s first Pride and she feels terrible.

Terrible that she’s been put on shift, that she’s been put on uniformed duty for the parade.

Terrible that she can’t hold Alex’s hand the whole way through, Alex who’s marching with her sister and the rest of her family with National City’s version of New York’s Ali Forney Center. Which Maggie helped to start.

She feels terrible, but she also feels a bit… relieved.

Relieved, because this is what her work in the NCPD has always been about: dismantling state oppression of queer communities, communities of color, and when they both collide in one person’s body.

Relieved, because – despite the amount of tireless trainings she’s run and sensitivity exercises she’s conducted – she stands a better chance of making sure her colleagues stay in line if she’s on duty herself.

So while her girlfriend marches, she stays stationary. Stationary, but not still.

Stationary, but helping passing marchers remember to drink enough water.

Stationary, but making sure her colleagues are truly there to protect the queers, not target the ones who refuse to conform, who can’t conform.

Stationary, but grinning and telling disappointed half-naked women that she’s flattered, but she has a girlfriend, and she’s very happy with her.

Stationary, but laughing as the women scream excitedly in response that she’s actually gay, the hot cop is gay, I told you, I told you, you owe me twenty bucks!

She straightens her back and snaps her heels together slightly when her giddy, be-glittered soldier starts heading down the block Maggie’s stationed at, her little sister riding on Alex’s back, James walking backwards in front of them, laughing while he snaps photos, Adrian and Lena and Winn and some of the kids from the Center passing out condoms and dental dams and “I Am Real, and I Matter” stickers and sunglasses to parade-goers.

Alex stops completely and Kara almost topples off of her when she notices Maggie, notices her girlfriend, in the uniform she’s never actually seen her in. Kara hears her sister’s heartbeat increase, and she scans for why. When she also notices Maggie, she giggles, and she hops off of Alex’s back.

“You have fun with your girlfriend, Alex,” she winks, and she skips off to join Winn and the others.

As the gay gods would have it, the march pauses for cohesion just as Alex and their family is passing Maggie’s assigned intersection.

She watches, breathless, still, as more women vie for Maggie’s attention. Jealousy, insecurity, bubbles up inside Alex – these women are wearing a lot less clothes than she is, they’re a lot hotter than she is, they’re probably a lot more fun than she is, they… – but Maggie?

Maggie has eyes only for her girlfriend.

She excuses herself from the women, signals to her work partner that she’s shifting and he should take her position, and he nods all too knowingly.

She strides right into the parade, right over to Alex – right into Alex’s arms – without once breaking eye contact with her, without once looking left or looking right or looking up or looking down.

“Happy Pride, Alex Danvers,” she tells her when she’s holding the only woman she’s wanted to touch all day, all day, all day.

“Happy Pride, Detective Maggie Sawyer,” Alex grins, breathless, swooning from the heat of Maggie’s body, the shock of seeing her in uniform, the strength of her arms around her waist.

“Can I kiss you?” Alex asks, unsure, because Maggie’s on the job and Maggie’s in uniform and there are all these people, but Maggie is answering with her body because suddenly her lips are on Alex’s and her hands are on Alex’s thighs and they barely register an excited roaring from the crowd – they barely register anything except each other’s smiles, except each other’s lips, except each other’s bodies – as Alex jumps up obediently and Maggie catches her easily, Alex’s legs wrapped around Maggie’s hips, hands under Maggie’s ponytail, kissing her so hard, so close, her uniform cap nearly falls off.

Alex grabs at it without missing a beat and puts it on her own head instead of Maggie’s, the crowd – and Kara, god, Kara – screaming even louder, now, so loudly that they realize, that they break apart and giggle, foreheads together for a moment before Maggie sets Alex down gently, breathlessly, happily.

“I love you,” Maggie tells her like she’s never told her before, and Alex’s heart leaps like she’s never heard it before.

“I love you back,” Alex tells her like she’s never admitted it before, and Maggie’s eyes brighten and dimples shine like she’s never known it before.

James swears he has nothing to do with the photos – a good handful of photos, but the most popular is one of them making out, Alex in her arms, Maggie’s hat on Alex’s head – going viral.

He swears it wasn’t him, that his Pulitzer Prize has nothing to do with their sudden internet fame, with Alex and Maggie becoming National City’s new favorite couple overnight.

And it wasn’t James.

It was people who didn’t know their names and people who didn’t know their story, but who know, from one look, from one photo, that these women are ride or die for each other; that these women could be in the dictionary next to love; that these women are each other’s sea and stars; that these women are hope.

So all the stories that get spun on social media – about a girl with a criminal past and the cop who sets her straight (no pun intended); about a cop who’d lost all hope and the queer girl who’d helped her find it again; about childhood friends who drift apart because one becomes a cop and the other can’t stand what cops do to queer kids, finding a way back to each other through work, hard work, and trust, and leaps of faith, and love, god, so much love – are made up, are speculated, by people who don’t even know their names.

Who don’t know about Maggie’s father or Alex’s sister or the way Maggie always loses at pool or the way Alex yanks fire alarms off the wall and throws them out instead of taking out the batteries.

Who don’t know about the ways they’re in love – the ways they would die for each other and almost have – but National City decides that the exact details aren’t important.

That the most important thing is the love in those photographs, and the love, the hope, the passion, they inspire.

And Alex and Maggie, cuddled on their couch with ice coffee and barely any clothes and phones blowing up with the feed about #CopPrideKiss2k17, read the comments and read the articles and they laugh and they cry and they kiss and they snuggle and they stare at themselves, immortalized in photographs, because yes.

Yes, they can see exactly what everyone is so excited about.

Because their lifetime of firsts together – including, now, their first time going viral – is pretty damn spectacular after all.