The snap

It’d appear she’s not the only one catching a ride out of National City with Lena. Quite unfortunate, since Alex’s sporting a terrible hangover and secretly dying for some much needed sleep. And her apology for being such an emotional wreck the previous evening will have to wait. She hasn’t felt this nauseous in ages. (Looks like her party days are truly over and she’s not even the least bit upset about that.)

Truth be told, she’s nervous about seeing Lena. She’d woken up to a short thoughtful note, pain medication and her phone all waiting for her on the kitchen counter and freshly laundered clothes folded on the couch (which again: there is something to be said about Lena’s luxurious lifestyle). She’s well aware of how contradictory losing it over an ex of a few years ago is, when trying to make the point that she is doing ok. Her phone’s call history and Maggie’s text this morning: “Hey Alex, sorry I missed your calls last night. Everything ok?” (followed by a concerned looking emoji) are enough embarrassing reminders of her ridiculous behaviour. 

She’s greeted with an unfriendly: “And you are?” upon boarding the plane.

Rude. 

“I’m Alex. Alex Danvers.” She extends her hand.

The woman cocks her head to the side and looks her up and down. (Alex’s headache grows minutely.) “Andrea Rojas” she offers after a beat, with the faintest of brushes to Alex’s outstretched hand.

This must be the Andrea Lena mentioned. She’s younger than what Alex had pictured in her mind. She’s also drop dead gorgeous. And looking at Alex in a silent question. 

“Alex Danvers” she repeats.

Andrea Rojas raises one eyebrow: “Yes, we’ve established that…”

Something tells her this is going to be a very long ride. “Oh, I’m… Travelling with you. I’m flying back to the compound with Lena.” 

“Is that so?”

Fuck it. Another day, another time, she’d maybe want to make a good impression, but the pounding behind her eyelids will no longer be ignored. Alex plops down, takes her sunglasses off and starts massaging her throbbing temple. 

“Lena failed to mention we’d have company” Andrea Rojas continues.

You and me both, Alex wants to snide. 

Thankfully, their host arrives, cutting the awkward exchange short. 

“I see you two have met. Good.” Lena turns to her: “Here you go, Alex”, hands her a bottle of water with a short squeeze to her neck.

Alex cradles the chilled glass bottle and brings it to her forehead with a relieved sigh, touched by Lena’s forethought. 

“How’re you feeling?” Lena asks, her voice low. 

Alex grunts in response. 

“Wild night?” comes from the room’s third occupant (the one Alex’d rather forget the existence of). 

Lena doesn’t reply, her eyes on Alex. She leans against the seat across the aisle. 

“You didn’t tell me we’d be travelling with the flavour du jour. If I wanted to feel crowded in on, I’d be flying commercial” Andrea continues, unperturbed.

(Again: rude much?) She doesn’t know what she did to warrant such hostility from a perfect stranger. This can’t possibly be the Andrea Lena was speaking so highly of. 

“You’ll have to forgive Andrea, she can’t help herself in seeing everything as a competition” Lena offers apologetically. “Alex is a friend, Andrea. Play nice”, too gentle to be truly chastising.

“A friend. Sure” lifting a disbelieving eyebrow. “Tell that to someone who doesn’t intimately know your type.”

Alex spits her water out, barely catching most of it with the glass. The rest trickles down her chin and disappears inside her collar. It’s all very dignified. In her defence: is Andrea implying Lena likes women? Surely not… Because… That… Lena doesn’t… That would be…

Thankfully, the two women’s attention is not on her and her hiccup goes unnoticed.

“I see your manners are as impeccable as ever. I assure you your jealousy or whatever this little scene is about is entirely misplaced” Lena throws back, sounding bored. Except, there’s a fond undercurrent there, the ghost of a secret smile between them.

“Dale. As hard as that may be for me to believe… You could hardly blame me for some lingering… possessiveness. For old time’s sake?”

Here it is again: it’s as if… 

“Considering it’s been more than a decade, I believe I can and will. Any particular reason behind your delightful disposition this morning?” Lena asks with distaste. 

Holy shit… That’s… Is that… confirmation?

Because it really does sound like confirmation. But confirmation would mean that…

It’s Andrea’s turn to sigh, looking chastised: “Lo siento, querida.” She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know me so well. The past weeks have been… Well… Let’s say: not without their fair share of excitement. With you, Papa, Elon…” She waves her hand. 

“Ah, how is that godfather of yours?”

“Elon is… being Elon” Andrea Rojas replies with a wave of her hand.

“As egotistic as ever, then. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Andrea gives a small smile: “I will neither confirm nor deny your characterization.”

“Are he and your father back on speaking terms at least?”

“Ah. That I’m afraid would be much too much to ask of them, cariña.”

Lena reaches out and places a hand on Andrea’s shoulder: “I’m sorry. »

« Speaking of family, I’m sorry about your mother. » 

In all this urgency, we didn’t have a proper catch up. If this is too much…” 

Should she… Should she leave them alone? This feels like… more than just a friendly conversation. 

“Nonsense! Who else could you entrust your baby to, while you’re off on your little top secret dalliance you won’t tell me anything about?”

“You know I would tell you, if I could. Thank you for agreeing to this despite the secrecy, Andrea.”

“And I’m grateful you reached out” Andrea replies, her hand lingering on Lena’s for longer than strictly necessary.

Alex averts her gaze. She fidgets with her glass, places it on the table before reaching for her sunglasses and resuming her fidgeting. She doesn’t relish feeling like a third wheel, yet at the same time there’s something downright fascinating about the exchange she’s privy to. 

“You just want me to owe you.”

“En la necesidad se ve la amistad.”

“Thank you. Truly. This means a lot.”

Now, Alex’s Spanish may be a little bit rusty, and she hasn’t spoken it since… Well… Since Juarez, really. (The memory of which isn’t helping her hangover one bit.) But Amistad refers exclusively to friendship, right? It’s just… This whole exchange. The tone. The touches. It speaks of intimacy beyond friendship. Is Lena… Did they… Does this mean Lena and her…? Holy shit! Holy fuck… Could this mean that Lena’s gay? No, bi? At the very least bi curious in some way… At some point in her life. 

Holy holy holy fuck…

Alex tunes back into the conversation, only to realise that both Lena and Andrea have their eyes trained on her now. She squirms under the attention and drops the water bottle. It clinks heavily against the table. 

“What about you, handsome? What’s your story?”

Lena tsks: “No flirting with my guests” she admonishes, giving Andrea a playful swat while walking towards the cockpit.

“Oh, please, since when?”

“My plane, my rules” Lena throws over her shoulder, with a finger in the air, before disappearing behind a door.

“I see. A pity. But I see. Handsome Alex. A friend, uh?” Her smile turns predatory: “How close a friend would you say?”

Lena leans back into the room: “I had forgotten how insufferable you could be. Hard to believe, I know. Not everything’s a competition. Take care of L-Corp for me, don’t let the stock price fall and then we’ll talk.”

“Possessive…not a side of yours that often comes out to play…”

“Andrea…” Lena warns.

Alex is way too hungover to parse any of this out. She gulps what’s left in the bottle down and closes her eyes, trying to find a more comfortable position in the seat.