sanvers one shots

"dork" (cont'd)

Summer held fond memories – sleepaway camp, running through the sprinkler, popsicles dripping down fingers within minutes of the first taste – and had been Maggie's favourite season growing up. Her later adolescence stole that from her; she was all too aware of the unexpected financial burden she became to her aunt, who never complained, but could regularly be heard stressing over outstanding debts after Maggie had 'gone to sleep'. She worked 12 hour days for years and when her niece turned sixteen, took any job she could get in their tiny town. Maggie's minimum wage work waiting tables at the truck stop diner all weekend and cleaning grungy motel rooms after school barely qualified theirs as a two-income household, but she was happy to help anyway she could, and knew her aunt would never ask. She hated most everything about it, except the fact that it got her through college, and that anything beat sitting alone in their stuffy apartment while her peers enjoyed the summer heat. She stopped asking for things she couldn't fund on her own.

Free of nostalgia, Maggie observed her surroundings. Their coastal destination was about as far south of the equator as National City was north, and the hemispheric season switch made the beating January sun even warmer against Maggie's skin. Alone by the ocean, she listened intently to the soft crackle from the spine of her heavy book as she opened it. She read peacefully in the shade of a palm tree, occasionally sipping a tropical drink she was offered by hotel staff when she arrived; Alex would be on duty all morning, and Maggie figured she'd take advantage of the warm weather at her disposal. The tide rolled out as time lapsed, and Maggie retired to the room shortly before lunch.

"Hey Mags!"

Startled upon discovery of her girlfriend when she came in the door, Maggie jumped and instinctively reached to her right hip, where she kept her holster when she was on duty. Alex put her hands up with a light laugh as Maggie caught her breath.

"Jesus, Danvers, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, we got out earlier than I thought, so I came up to get changed. What've you been up to?" Alex's attention fell to the book under Maggie's arm, and smiled. "Dork..."

The detective sarcastically smirked and stuck her tongue out, setting the tome on the table next to her. Alex changed into a fitted muscle tee and cargo shorts, cuffed just above the knee. Having gone to the bathroom to fix her hair, Maggie re-entered the room and immediately released a muffled snort.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just... that is the gayest outfit I've ever seen," Maggie squeaked through suppressed laughter, "How did you stay in the closet for 28 years? I mean, someone knew, maybe you didn't," she choked out, covering her face with her hands.

"Shut up! It's functional! You want me to hike in a dress?" Alex proudly adjusted her shirt in the mirror. Maggie continued to laugh quietly to herself and put a black V-neck on over her bathing suit top. She rummaged through her bag for the loose shorts she was certain she'd packed – they were on the list – and began to huff and mutter as she went. She stood and sighed, pressing her hands together and going through the previous day in her head, to retrace her steps.

"Did you forget something," Alex inquired, stepping away from the mirror, "what'cha looking for?"

"My shorts, the ones with the white stripe down the side, I wear them to the gym sometimes, have you seen them? I could've sworn I brought them..."

"You can borrow a pair of mine, that is, unless they're too gay for you... wouldn't want the world to think we're lesbians, or anything..." Alex trailed off and Maggie called her a brat. (She is a brat).