Roxanne's
Mist curled through salt chilled air on a cold fall night. The city was humming with a strange yet still common sort of subdued energy. The sun had slipped behind the rolling banks of thick, damp clouds over an hour ago. The big rush of commuters escaping the downtown core to return to their dwellings had long since passed. The press and excitement of the standard friday night crowd of young, trendy students out to hit the clubs was barely starting. No, for the moment, the streets were calm. Merely spattered about with those exhausted masses getting out of long overtime shifts, slowly shambling along to whatever source of stress relief they could find.
Which, to be fair, was an atmosphere which fit one Maggie Sawyer just fine.
After all, her back and knees were already killing her after a far, far too long day. A headache was slowly blooming from years of excess stress and work, which she was well on her way to medicating with a cup of warm organic green tea. Frankly she was just hoping she could get to her destination without the traitorous Star City sky opening up on her. She was in absolutely no mood to be both exhausted and drenched to the bone.
Luck, as it would seem, was with her as she turned a corner. Block after block slipped away as the warmth of the tea seeped its way into her chest. Shiny, brightly lit theatres and upscale restaurants changed slowly into glitzy clubs, already pumping out thumping bass music. When those too slipped away, she found herself outside a series of only slightly skivvy strip joints, until finally her goal was in sight.
The old Star City docks, long home to the poor and forgotten. Those who were willing to stand the smell of slowly ripening fish and spilled oil for a good deal on rent. Those who just wanted to be left alone. Those who didn’t want anybody asking any probing questions. Those who just, for whatever reason, didn’t really fit in with the regular downtown crowd.
Maggie flashed a tired grin as she turned another corner. After all, barring one or two key exceptions, here was where the nightlife really was...at least for those who weren’t a 20 something hetero college student. The skivvy strip clubs off the main strip slowly broadened out. Replaced by a varied smattering of restaurants, gay bars, bathhouses and cheap “hotels” of all stripes. Some were still old, cheap, run-down holes in the walls. Others, well, the immortal spin of gentrification always had to claim it’s bloody toll.
Not that Maggie really had much ground to complain about all the swanky hipster joints opening up. She was much too fond of her vegan ice-creams and fair-trade coffees to be entirely without blame.
Even still though, that ever present low-grade hum of tension that seemed to always run through Maggie’s shoulders these days faded away into nothing. These sorts of neighborhoods always seemed to have that effect. They helped give her that subconscious “around friends and allies” feeling that let her ever present guard just...simmer for a bit.
The grin on Maggie’s face got wider, and the exhaustion that had seeped deep into her bones fell away, step by step. Especially as her feet took her down the old stone steps to her favorite little old bar in the basement of a nice chinese joint. The doorbell clanged as she ducked her head in and sauntered her way inside.
Rich, rustic wood furnishings filled out the warm, welcoming space. Lively samba music echoed off the dark cement walls and low ceilings of the space. Even so, a few patrons were already swinging around the dance floor off toward the back of the bar. Hardwood tables and deep red booths lined the sides of the space, around half of which were filled with women of all shapes, sizes and colours. The crowd varied, with a sparse few patrons done up to the nines in elegant dresses and makeup. Others were dressed way down, practically covered in flannel and bluejeans. A few even chose to rock leather pants, jackets and spiked black collars. While the happy atmosphere flared a certain ember of warmth in Maggie’s chest, the woman only had eyes for one person at that particular moment.
“Roxy! How’s it hanging?!” Maggie barked out, bouncing her way over to grab the attention of the lovely older gentlewoman behind the bar.
After a few moments, the tall lady leaning on the bar turned her head away from an animated discussion with one of the patrons and caught sight of Maggie. Slowly the woman behind the bar straightened up to a towering six foot two. Slowly the woman lifted a hand to elegantly smooth down the rather dapper dark blue dress shirt she wore with a black tie and rainbow suspenders holding up black leather pants. Maggie cracked a warm grin as the warm brown eyes under a head of short salt and pepper hair roved up and down Maggie.
“I see. The bitch is back. To yet again defile the sanctity of my poor bathrooms.” Roxanne huffed seriously, sending Maggie a deep glare and folding dark brown arms.
“Aww, don’t be like that Roxy. I promise, tonight I’ll be sweet as pie, you’ll see. Best behavior.” Maggie said, snorting at the eyebrow, raised high in disbelief, she received back for her trouble.
“Mags, the day you behave yourself is the day I win the lottery and the old braggart in the white house drops dead from a painful heart attack. I’ll believe it when I see it and not a moment earlier.” Roxanne said back gruffly. Even still, Maggie counted it as a distinct win if the half-amused, half-exasperated smirk curling the corners of the other woman’s mouth was any indication.
“Oh, woe is me! I’m hurt, deeply hurt Roxy, that you would think so little of me. How ever will I go on living in this dark, lonely world” Maggie snarked, throwing a hand to her forehead in her best wilting princess impression. Slowly she leaned her weight back until she was practically falling dramatically over into one of the empty bar stools in front of one of her best (and only) friends in this city.
Which, after one final mournful groan of Maggie, was finally enough to crack Roxanne’s composure. Maggie smiled brightly as the woman let out that deep, rumbly cackle of hers that Maggie knew she only did when she was feeling particularly comfortable and happy.
“Oh, come off it bitch. Glad to see your still alive and well Mags. What’ll it be?” Roxanne eventually asked, leaning back comfortably onto the bar. Maggie grinned and sat up in her seat happily.
“Oh, the usual, double whiskey on the rocks.” Maggie asked quickly. After a quick nod Roxanne spun off to go grab the bottle of mid-shelf whiskey she knew Maggie favored. Meanwhile, Maggie let her attention wander and glance around the room.
Happily the party was already bouncing pretty well. Here and there Maggie saw regulars and acquaintances, but a large chunk of the room was new to her. Something which was definitely a good sign with how many bars and clubs had been hit hard from everything going to the apps these days.
“Hey Roxy, looks like you got a nice crowd, who all’s out tonight?” Maggie asked, humming happily when a large, well filled glass was clunked in front of her. Roxanne gave Maggie a look and let out a deep sigh.
“Already on the lookout then?” The older woman huffed, drumming her fingers on the bar briefly in annoyance. Maggie merely laughed and slapped a couple bills on the table. Her usual (and rather generous) tip for the drink.
“Hey, I’m not only looking to womanize. Sometimes I just wanna hang out with my friends and blow off some steam! I resent that implication!” Maggie barked out, flashing a slightly toothy smirk.
“Mags, don’t even try. We both know your version of blowing off steam, involves more sucking and spanking than anything.” The older woman huffed out, crossing her arms over her chest threateningly.
“Ooooh, ouch. You’re killin me here Rox. A woman’s got needs, what can I say?” Maggie replied, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “Still, it’s not like you to be this evasive. Spill.” She continued, taking a deep sip of her drink. Roxanne for her part merely grimaced and bit her lip. Clear tells that something was bothering her.
“Well, Jessie and Amelia have been sucking faces with their new beaus in the back corner for the last half hour or so. I’m just hoping I don’t have to get out the disinfectant in the next 10 minutes. Which, well, is probably a pipe dream at this point. One of them looks like they’re probably a gusher to me.” Roxanne said, sighing deeply and tightening her fists on the bar. A look of utmost “why is this my life?” plastered all over her face.
Which. Ow. Guess that’s one apparently now ex friend with benefits and one just plain ex here tonight. Fuck.
Maggie had another slosh of her drink, feeling entirely too sober for dealing with any sort of even half baked feelings right about now.
“Okay, thanks for the warning. Anybody else from the regular crew?” Maggie asked, taking another quick glance over her shoulder.
“Not too many. Joanne’s around here somewhere. Tash and her gaggle of friends are by the pool table. Lots of newbies tonight though actually. Lots of friends of friends giving recommendations and all that shit. Should help keep the doors open at least.” The older barkeep rambled on, looking pretty pleased at the turnout. Maggie gave her a warm grin.
“Sounds great Rox.” Maggie said, resisting the urge to walk around the bar and give the big old teddy bear of a woman a hug. Business for bars on the seedier side of the city was always tough, but Roxanne’s was practically a landmark at this point. Anyone who knew anyone in the scene at least knew of it. Most were regulars. Still, as more and more of the younger crowd moved to dating online business had slowed some and the clientele had started ageing some. The younger woman was just glad things seemed to still be stable for her friend.
Roxanne and her bar did, after all, have a large part in helping Maggie keep herself sane after she “left” the police force a year or two back. There’s only so much drowning your sorrows can really do, and Roxy was not one to just go on enabling a friend. She was a big part of pushing Maggie into her new line of work. She did after all, always deal better with feelings when she had something to exhaust and distract herself with.
“Well then, I think I’m gonna tour the room for a bit, check in with everybody. Who knows, maybe I’ll make some new friends if I’m lucky.” Maggie said, shooting the older woman that grin that Maggie knew flashed those dimples people seemed to like so much. Roxanne let out an indulgent snort and waved her off as she set off to an expedition into the wild blue yonder.
Which, really, was about what Maggie would expect. A bunch of semi awkward smalltalk with people she was half familiar with, some catching up with longtime friends, some commiserating over the sorry state of the world, even a bit of lighthearted flirting with the odd pretty girl here and there. Despite all her joking, Maggie honestly wasn’t expecting much more. She came to Roxanne’s mostly for a good drink or two and some nice music. Anything “extra” that happened was fairly infrequent and coincidental.
Then, around half an hour and three quarters of a glass of whiskey later she saw the brunette in the dark corner of a booth near the back of the room.
Whoever she was, she seemed...somewhat out of place. It wasn’t anything major or worrying. Rather, the expensive (and appealingly form fitting) suit jacket and expensive gold jewelry all spoke of someone who well...was slumming it. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight business ready ponytail. Well manicured but short cut red nails clicked away on the woman’s glass of some sort of expensive malt liquor. The other hand was nervously tap-tapping away on a phone laid out on the table in front of her.
Maggie couldn’t help but stare a little, every now and then as she wandered around the room. Every time she paused, her gaze would, just for a few seconds return and linger curiously.
And as she used to say what felt like a lifetime ago… she detects.
It happens slowly over the course of many minutes as the unmistakable tension in the brunette’s shoulders unclenched. The ex-cop couldn’t really see the face of whoever it was with the awkward angle and lighting, but she could just make out a hint of dark framed glasses drilling holes into the seat across from her. The woman seemingly giving a fairly accurate rendition of a thousand yard stare, barely processing anything around her. Maggie didn’t recognize her, so she assumed she was one of the newbies.
Likely out to blow off some steam after a hard week, just like Maggie.
What she couldn’t get a handle on however, was whether or not the woman actually wanted any company. Surely if one were to make the hike out to a hole in the wall gay bar off the main drag by themselves, one was at least potentially interested in a casual conversation? Otherwise why even bother drinking outside the house? Still though, Maggie couldn’t help but notice as the occasional hopeful lady sat down across from her, tried to chat her up...and struck out hard. One even left the table with a distinct grimace on her face that was ever so curious. Like they stepped in dog doo they didn’t see coming.
Curious. Very curious.
Of course, while you could take the detective out of the Maggie, the driving force of curiosity, of wanting to know the truth was much harder to get rid of.
Ahhhh, fuck it.
One more unlucky lady probably couldn’t hurt could it?
Marshalling her gumption, Maggie knocked back the last of her whiskey, and set off across the room after picking up a fresh glass from Roxy.
“Hey, I realize you're probably way out of my league and just here to vibe to the atmosphere anyway, but are you up for some company?” The ex-cop said lightly as she shifted her way to stand just beside the booth. A pale neck startled briefly and Maggie made a point of flashing her most winngingly dimpled smile as she waited for the other shoe to drop.
...and boy did it.
Slim shoulders, newly filled with tension turned around. Dark lashes flickered as a lovely face shifted into view. Deep red lips and startlingly green eyes practically pierced into Maggie as the face resolved itself and Maggie’s eyes widened.
“Lena!?” She barked out, surprised.
A frustrated hiss filled the air and suddenly Maggie found a vice grip wrapped around her wrist that pulled her down to sit in the booth with a harsh thump. Maggie felt herself blinking from surprise rather dumbly, even as an aggrieved voice started grumbling in her ear.
“My fucking god, is it too much to bloody ask for one bloody night of getting pleasantly sloshed without everybody and their mom recognizing me and getting on my damn case. Fuck! Could you not have at least shouted it to the room lady!” The voice, now thickening with frustration and the faintest hint of irish lilt, complained. Maggie has to bark out a laugh at that. Lena is surprisingly cute when she’s frustrated and a little tipsy.
“Well, sorry if I was a little surprised to see little Danver’s CEO best friend in a cheap dive bar in fucking Star City of all places. It’s been years hasn’t it, how’re you doing?” Maggie replied smoothly.
Lena, for her part, immediately stiffened up. Her neck swinging around to actually take a good look at Maggie. Clearly in whatever funk she’d been Lena had not actually been processing what she was seeing. Maggie felt the full force of a patented Lena Luthor death glare and just tried to smile through it as best she could. The awkward and intense stare seemed to last a good few seconds before real recognition actually seemed to bloom in the youngest Luthor's eyes. Recognition then, of course, quickly gave way to narrow eyed suspicion.
“Maggie? No, Detective Sawyer. What brings you here? Still keeping tabs on me after all this time? Or did the Danvers sisters have you track me down or something? Not going to arrest me again on half baked charges are you?” The green-eyed woman hissed with all the thoughtful grace of a truly paranoid conspiracy nerd.
“Chill out for a second Luthor. Sheesh, cuff a girl one damn time and she holds it against you for life.” Maggie shot back, snorting incredulously.
“Well, then, you’ll have to forgive me for being a little worried about having you of all people tracking me down, detective. It’s not like you’ve arrested me before or anything.” Lena spat, taking an angry gulp of liquor. Maggie took a cautious glance at the other woman from the corner of her eye.
The frustration, suspicion and even...hint of fear certainly did seem to be quite genuine. Which was something of a strange thought. They hadn’t really spoken that much while she and Alex were engaged. I mean, they interacted, but they were more acquaintances or friends of friends than anything. Plus they hadn’t seen each other since Maggie broke up with Alex and left National city. Something which was more than two years ago at this point. This level of sustained animosity to Maggie specifically just seemed...excessive.
Some part of her started hypothesizing that whatever bee was in Lena’s snatch, it probably wasn’t even really about Maggie. So, with that said, rather than getting frustrated, she took a deep breath to calm herself down before replying.
“No, I suppose a bit of suspicion isn’t entirely out of the question.” Maggie hummed as pleasantly as she could. She took a deep sip of her whiskey to give her a second more before continuing.
“Though, it’s a bit of a moot point these days seeing as I’m not actually a detective anymore. Haven’t been for more than a year actually.” Maggie replied, very carefully keeping her tone as even as possible.
Some things were just difficult to talk about alright?
Even so, the admission made only the barest crack in the dam of Lena’s paranoia. At least if the very momentary but quickly smothered surprise in her expression was any indicator.
“So, you’re a private eye then? Who hired you? How much are they paying you? Or was it just the Danvers who asked you to track me down?” The CEO hissed, barely backing up an inch. Maggie sighed and shook her head in exasperation.
“Okay, please, just take it down a notch would you? Nobody is paying me, nobody asked me to find you. I ain’t a private eye or anything even. I’m just a woman at a bar trying to get good and sloshed. Well and maybe get laid if I find the right girl. No plans, no angles, no secret agendas.” Maggie said, barely holding herself back from growling. Here she was, just hoping for a quiet, stress free night with some friends and some good booze. Now, all of a sudden, this ghost of National City past was stomping all over her nice, tipsy zen.
Hell, Maggie was about three steps away from saying fuck it and going home to water her bonsai trees.
“I’m not sure I quite believe you.” Lena eventually replied after chewing on that lusciously deep red bottom lip for a good 30 seconds. Still, Maggie read a certain amount of uncertainty in that expression. She saw more confusion than anything. Which, hey, at least that’s progress over immediate irrational hostility.
“Believe it or don’t, I’m not in the finding people business anymore. Nor have I heard from either Danvers sister in years. I actually help run a couple of queer homeless shelters across town. This is just the joint I go to unwind after work.” Maggie grouched. Still, after a fortifying slug of her drink she did try to give Lena a smile, even if it looked more strained than anything else.
“You’re really not a cop anymore? I thought you loved your work? Practically lived for it if I recall correctly.” Lena asked, tone filled with a strange sort of mounting wonder and disbelief.
Maggie burst out laughing.
...well, and maybe crying a bit too. Damn. Roxy must have been cutting some onions again for one of her weird experimental hipster fusion drinks or something. Sure, that must be why her eyes were misting over.
“Yeah.” Maggie said, voice a bit rough. She breathed slowly with a strong determination not to let it even hint at being overly rough or unsteady.
Lena’s emerald gaze softened noticeably, the tension smoothing out of her shoulders and from around her eyes. Fuck.
“Sounds like there’s a bit of a story there? If you want to tell it?” The billionaire prodded gently.
“I mean, what's there to tell really? Who cares about bringing up ancient history?” The ex-cop groused, as she ground her nails into the table unconsciously. Lena, for her part, merely looked faintly amused at that.
“Well, seeing as you insist the pair of us are just two tired, overstressed women looking to relax… What better time to blow off some steam? I’m not doing anything important tonight. How about you?” The green-eyed woman replied.
Which, well, fair enough point. As much as Maggie tended to hate talking about, ugh, feelings she did miss the old pub nights at the force. Very few things in this world were better stress relief than sitting around with a group of like minded individuals, getting shitfaced, and mouthing off about the boss. Plus, hell, it’s Lena. Whatever cosmic happenstance led to the two...mostly cordial acquaintances somehow landing in the same bar one rainy friday night was unlikely to repeat. The CEO was probably in that golden sweet spot of emotionally connected enough so Maggie wouldn’t feel too bad dumping on her, but also disconnected where they could just go their separate ways if it became too awkward.
“Don’t think too hard over there. It’s just an offer. Forget I said anything if it’s too difficult to talk about.” Came an interruption from the pale skinned woman. Maggie snapped back to attention as her thought process reoriented to the there and now. She took in the renewed tension and awkwardness in Lena’s shoulders and winced. Right. Didn’t Luthor have all sorts of self-confidence issues and junk? Has that been getting better? Has she been going to therapy?
...right no, of course not, its Luthor of all people.
Right. How do people do the talking thing again? With all the words, and the emotions? She wasn’t really used to that anymore.
“Oh, I don’t really mind. It’s...more just frustrating than anything else.” Maggie said as she knocked back whatever was left in her still mostly full glass. Fuck it. Having a buzz was useful for this kind of thing.
“Same story all over the place I guess. After Alex and I ripped each other’s still beating hearts out of our chests, I transferred to Star City PD. Things were okay for a bit. Only a couple of months in there was this big whole thing.” Maggie continued, her voice going rough and stormy as she even started thinking about some specific...instances. Even just thinking about it got her so fucking mad, and just...
“A...thing? Such lovely thick description Miss Sawyer. Truly the bards must write odes about your erudite vocabulary.” Lena interjected dryly when the silence dragged on too long.
“Fuck off. I’m getting to it you gloriously sarcastic princess.” Maggie barked back, giving Lena a playful poke to the side. She only felt partially mollified at the slightly sheepish (but still distinctly amused) look on the other woman’s face. She was also slowly noticing that the way the too small booth was nudging their sides up against each other. Lena was...quite warm and distracting.
Maggie coughed once before continuing.
“Anyway. I’m not a naive idiot. I know a lot of cops are shit. I got the job to make sure when some poor kid in a shit situation ran up against a badge they’d have someone in their corner. Someone who gets it, y’know? How shitty most cops can get? How fucking slanted the system is.” She explained, pausing slightly to glance over at Lena. Who was watching on with firm attention, nodding along politely. Those deep green orbs were practically shimmering too, which was quite unfair.
Maggie viciously held down the heat slowly coming up to the tips of her ears. Fuck. This was classic Maggie. Of course she’s just gonna get drunk and hit on her ex’s, sister’s best friend. Only to then get suddenly emotionally attached and start talking about stupid, intense, feelings.
Fucking hell, should she be looking up u-haul services yet?
“Long story short, a bunch of cops on the beat were being real asshats. Throwing their weight around, pressuring store owners into low key bribes and stuff, catcalling passing women. You know the type. Only, occasionally it escalated. Not usually when I was around to call them on their shit. Still, Y’know how it is, some asshole with a badge gets it in his head that some brown kid isn’t respecting him properly and shit goes south in a hurry.” Maggie continues, as her voice vacillated between high key pissed off ranting and thick emotion.
Maggie felt a nice, warm hand gently cupping over her forearm. Ah, that was a nice...thing that definitely didn’t happen. Maggie coughed again, feeling the warmth of good booze and company warming her chest up just right.
“So, another long story short. Things went bad, someone got beat up enough they couldn’t just hand wave things away. I saw the whole damn thing. Yelled my damn ass off trying to get the fuckhead cop to pull his head out of his ass.” The ex-cop growled out, clenching her fingers around her glass painfully tight.
Fuck. Roxy and her damn onions.
“So, yeah. I think you can probably guess what all happened. The guys wanted to ‘get their stories straight’ or whatever. I refused. The union got involved. While I didn’t get fired, I was actually the one written up for insubordination afterwards. Got my ass blacklisted from basically every other police force in the country. Only got sent out on solo calls after that. Whenever I called for backup it was mysteriously ‘delayed’ by like 10 minutes. I was probably going to die in a ditch somewhere eventually because of those assholes, so I quit.” Maggie explained, grinding her teeth the entire time. Slowly, ever so slowly, she took a couple of big deep breaths to calm herself down.
“It was...a big whole shitty thing is what you’re saying? I understand why you left. Things have a way of spiraling like that.” Lena replied lightly with just the hint of a smirk.
Maggie started a bit to look at her closer. That was...not quite the reaction she expected. Still, the smirk on the other woman’s face was actually slowly turning into something more genuine. Something softer. Honestly, it seemed like Lena maybe even just had a bad case of resting smirk face. Her eyes on the other hand were entirely too warm and filled with a surprising amount of understanding.
...fucking onions indeed.
Honestly, thinking about it for a second, Maggie really rather found herself appreciating the other woman’s reaction. There was no pity. No, ‘oh that must have been so tough for you.’ No honest aggrieved ranting about the corruption of the system that somehow made it all about the listeners hurt feelings.
Just honest agreement. Yeah. Shit sucks.
Maggie surreptitiously wiped a traitorously wet eye.
“Yeah. Big shitty thing is about right. What about you? What sort of thing brings you to the ass end of Star City of all places?” Maggie asked, clearing her thought pointedly. Gods, she was all out of spoons to give for talking about her own shit.
...It was kinda nice though. Felt like something of a load off her shoulders. Like unburdening some invisible weight that she’d been carrying around basically every day for years.
Lena’s face appeared to go through a truly fascinating spiral of quick emotions. First came a slight widening of the eyes into surprise. Then it changed into a suspicious narrowing. Then Lena added a grumpy pinch of the mouth. After she chased it down with a frustrated tightening of fingers on the younger woman’s glass. Lastly, Lena ended it all with a deep, world-weary sigh as Lena collapsed miserably onto the table in front of them.
“Well, you’d actually have to try and specify for me. It could be the ‘my brother got pardoned by the cheeto and kicked me out of the company thing. It could also be the ‘hey why don’t I just say fuck him and start my own company’ like a workaholic idiot thing. Really though, if you’d ask my therapist it’s mostly the ‘my best friend and straight crush lied to me everyday for years’ thing that really got me out of National City.” Lena slowly groused out miserably. Before she was even conscious of it, Maggie found herself laying her palm down on the other woman’s arm in a mirrored gesture of comfort.
...Then the actual content of Lena’s words hit her.
“Wait, what the fuck? I’ve been keeping away from the news for like the last couple of months for sanity, but did Lex seriously get pardoned. Sweet donkey balls, that’s fucked up.” Maggie spat out before she could close her big fat mouth.
“Yup. Preaching to the choir Miss Sawyer. Preaching to the choir. It was this whole thing, as I’m sure you’ll understand.” Lena replied, humming in a tone that was half amused and half hysterical. Her bottom lip turned up in the most adorable exaggerated pouty face Maggie had seen in ages.
Fuck. Little Luthor was surprisingly expressive and adorable when she wasn’t being all ‘mega-paranoid’ bitch. Or maybe that was the booze talking. Or maybe not. Who knows?
...then the other half of Lena’s comment caught up in her brain.
“Wait again, are you saying Little Danvers actually got up the gumption to tell her sister to fuck off and tell you about the whole, you know, thing? Huh, may wonders never cease.” Maggie said, a hint of nostalgic amusement in her voice as she turned to stare off towards the other side of the booth.
Wait a minute. Shit. Maybe not the most tactful way to say that. Sounds like there were all sorts of fallout and hurt fee-fees. Her eyes flicked back to Lena.
Lena’s eyes widened suddenly in a comical display of surprise. A second later the woman tensed like a cat having it’s fur rubbed backwards and snapped her back straight up in her seat. Green eye’s on a long, pale neck flicked up and down Maggie as if dissecting her. The patented Luthor glare was back in full force as those red, red lips pursed dangerously.
Maggie felt a traitorous shiver run up and down her spine.
“What do you mean by that?” Lena asked in the most deceptively businesslike neutral tone the ex-cop had ever heard. Truly, she sounded more like an angry lioness just planning some deadly trap for whatever poor prey animal was about to be eaten whole.
Maggie coughed, feeling the shiver clench in an area just a bit lower.
...and maybe a bit wetter.
“Well, I mean, it’s surprising right? That she actually told you. The entire time I was dating Alex it always kinda struck me how close and codependent their relationship was. Hell, you could basically see the dynamic most days. Alex says jump, Kara asks how high. About damn near everything too.” Maggie replied as neutrally as she could. It was...easier to talk about her ex these days. Time and distance certainly help, but it would probably never be truly easy. Plus, if the twitching, angry eyebrow of Luthor’s was any indication, she really needed to tread softly.
“So it was all just Alex’s fault then? Perfect Kara can do no wrong? Is that really the story you’re trying to sell me?” Lena spat out caustically. Maggie winced. That suspicious Lena Luthor wall seemed to be being flung up quite high again.
“Chill out Luthor. I ain’t selling anything. Just observing some things. Even if I’m right, it’s Kara who gives Alex all that power over her life, and Alex who gets pigheaded over the stupidest of shit.” Maggie grumbled at the other woman sulkily. She had to smirk though, when one of Lena’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows twitched in the cutest sign of annoyance yet. Lena made a brief aborted movement to go on, so well, why not.
“All I can tell you is what I saw. Which was that they certainly had some sort of unstated power imbalanced dynamic. Hell, it seemed like every couple weeks Kara would come up with some new hairbrained scheme to save some sad endangered snail somewhere or something. The second Alex expressed even the faintest hint of disapproval Kara would go all sad puppy, drop it and sulk. It was almost only ever when Alex eventually came to pet her on the head and tell her she was a good girl that Kara ever really considered doing whatever it was she proposed in the end.” Maggie explained, not bothering to hide the faintly amused, nostalgic expression on her face. It might have been unconventional as hell for ‘platonic’ foster-sisters, sure, but it also had it’s pretty dang cute moments.
Plus, Maggie was no real stranger to power dynamics in relationships, and Alex and Kara’s was far from the weirdest thing she’s ever seen.
Lena on the other hand looked positively poleaxed by the suggestion. Her expression was filled with the sort of amazed surprise that turned all the way from incredulous disbelief, to dawning understanding to blatant ‘how did I miss this’ shock. Maggie felt herself snickering, just a bit at the whole play by play.
Definitely not the booze. Lena was cute. Really fucking cute.
“From everything that I know about their whole dynamic, I’m surprised Kara ever either won Alex over about you or told her off. Much as I loved her Alex was a giant paranoid idiot sometimes. We fought all the time about her going to therapy for it. As frustrating as it was, it’s sort of understandable. The first time anybody actually found out who Kara was, her Dad was essentially kidnapped and killed. That kinda trauma sticks fucking with you.” Maggie explained when Lena seemed a bit tongue tied. Might as well get it all out in the open anyways.
“But...what about her telling all the other friends. You know, all of them who knew and helped her lie to me? Winn? James? Lucy? You?” Lena practically whispered. Maggie had to actually lean in a bit closer to actually catch her words. Which, well, she wasn’t really gonna complain. Lena, as previously stated, was quite warm and comfy.
“Well, I don’t really know all their stories. I know Kara complained once or twice about how Superman told James without asking her in that overly patronizing way he meddles. Winn was basically her only friend for years and she told him because she got in a fight with Alex and needed to vent. I figured it out for myself. I am a detective after all. Not sure about any of the others though.” Maggie said, humming pleasantly.
“Oh.” Lena replied quietly. Voice full of a sort of shocked understanding. Maggie gave her a rather unconscious squeeze on the arm that she hoped was vaguely comforting.
For once, Maggie let the conversation lull as Lena stared off into the distance. The song in the bar turned from some sort of upbeat samba number to something a bit more mellow and jazzy. Maggie was happy to just sit there and vibe as Lena processed. The woman clearly seemed a bit overwrought and emotional about everything still. She kept slowly drumming her fingers on the table in front of her, in a nervous tick the Luthor wouldn’t usually indulge in (at least if Maggie’s hazy memory is correct).
It had to be a lot to take in. Especially given Luthor's flair for the dramatic exit and Kara’s chronic inability to express her feelings on subjects she perceives could be at all hurtful to others. Maggie privately suspects they never really, honestly, talked about the whole thing. There was probably just some big blowout fight and Lena left town in some big dramatic huff with feelings and junk everywhere. Stupid lesbian drama.
You know what.
FUCK THINGS!
Bloody useless things have been harshing the buzz and expected relaxation of two women looking to just get away from things for too long! Who needs em. Things are now banned!
“You know what Lena?” Maggie asked, feeling her patented dimple filled smirk come back in its full glory. Slowly the other woman turned to face Maggie again, her eyes finally pulling back some of their sharp awareness.
“I’m out of whiskey. You’re almost out of whiskey. Neither of us are anywhere near drunk enough to talk any sort of thing anymore. What’s say we get another couple of stiff drinks and banish any discussion of things for at least the next two hours.” Maggie said, voice turning up in excitement as she smiled at Lena. A woman who, at this very moment was giving Maggie the cutest look of head titled confusion.
“Okaaaay?” Lena queried hesitantly.
Maggie felt her smirk grow.
“Come on, little Luthor. Live a little. After all we’re just a couple of dumb sortof weird former friends blowing off steam on a lonely Friday night. Lets tell the world to fuck off for a few hours, get good and loaded drunk. Then maybe we shout our asses off about how much the world sucks and go our separate ways in the morning.” Maggie pressed with her ever widening grin not letting up for a moment.
Bless her heart. Lena, ‘stone cold bitch,’ Luthor just smiled a big wonderful, dopey, grin at Maggie. The sort of slightly sloshed amusement one would direct at a particularly dumb but cute puppy tripping over its paws.
...fuck, Maggie could totally see why Kara had fallen for the poor girl so hard. A fact which Maggie thought should be utterly obvious to everyone, but was apparently only obvious to her. Kara’s baby-gay fledgeling cheeps were so cute and ever present that half the time Maggie had been around her she just wanted to pinch her little indestructible cheeksies. After all, even with her sister browbeating her over the risk all the damn time, Kara never gave a single damn inch about having at least some sort of relationship with the CEO. Clearly there was something there, deep down in the woman that was absolutely worth getting close to.
“You know what. That sounds swell. Close, drunk secret sharing friends until morning light and then practical strangers again afterwards then?” Lena eventually replied, her lilting voice bubbling with a new sort of warm excitement.
“Absolutely.” Maggie replied.
...Famous last words.