But the fruit is sweet.

The thing is, Maggie knows she hurt Alex. She knows. Alex is not nearly as good a liar as she thinks. But it was better than jumping headfirst into something that would end up hurting them both in the end. Alex isn’t ready for a serious relationship and Maggie wants serious. She wants to start settling down, or at least be looking for someone who might also be thinking about settling down. Not too soon, but eventually. Someone she can build a life with. And you just don’t settle down with the first girl you date.

The best she can do is be understanding and give Alex her space. That first crush is so powerful; even without the haze of being a teenager in a hormonal body, it feels like the world is ending when the first girl you like doesn’t like you back.

She keeps it professional at the first crime scene where she crosses paths with the DEO again, some alien in a back alley likely dead of exposure. She sighs as she stands up from examining his body, pulling the sheet over his face as she does so.

“Something wrong?” Alex asks, her tone too bright to really be genuine.

“Just…” Maggie shrugs. “Poor guy. He comes here hoping for a better life, maybe fleeing a bad homeworld situation. And he ends up like that. I feel for him, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” Alex says softly, and for a moment they’re united in their regret over someone else’s tragedy. But it soon passes, and they’re emerging into the weak winter sunlight outside the alley, where people are trying to gawk at the scene from behind the yellow tape.

Maggie opens her mouth but Alex cuts her off. “We’ll take possession of the body, do an autopsy just in case.”

Maggie’s first instinct is to fight for jurisdiction, something snarky and pointed that would get Alex to smile that half-flustered half-challenging smile and fight back. But that’s not what they do right now. “Sure. Your lab is probably better equipped.”

The expected “oh so you admit it then Sawyer?” never comes. Alex just nods tightly and starts walking away, but she stops when Supergirl lands with that trademark whoosh, her cape billowing all heroically. Maggie would never ever admit it, not even under oath in a court of law, but the landing is actually really cool.

“We got this,” Alex says, her head down, eyes not quite meeting Supergirl’s very direct gaze.

She stands there with that dumb heroic pose of hers, hands on her hips, and Maggie fights the urge to straighten up her posture. “Are you sure?”

Something about the way she asks the question, looking carefully at Alex, then over at Maggie, makes it seem like they’re not talking about the dead guy in the alley.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alex says, nodding a little. Supergirl puts her hand on Alex’s shoulder, giving her a little squeeze, and oh. Ok. They’re not just running buddies. Well, Maggie can’t blame a girl for moving on fast.

“I’ll see you later,” Supergirl says. And then she looks right at Maggie and she would swear that Supergirl is using her freeze breath with how chilly her words come out. “Thanks for your assistance, Detective Sawyer. I’m sure the DEO appreciates your help.” Her knees flex and she takes off before Maggie can say another word.

Alex keeps going, ducking under the tape, and Maggie is left at the scene with the distinct feeling that she just got told off.

*

Maggie doesn’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that there’s no alien-related crime for a couple of weeks. She likes it when the city takes a break, usually. If her job is boring that means people aren’t getting hurt.

On the other hand it gives her no good reason to talk to Alex, who has gone radio silent. She can’t blame Alex at all; it doesn’t matter how much she understands, it’s mortifying to be rejected. To put yourself out there like that. Maggie spends a couple nights at the bar – their bar – drinking and hoping Alex will come in again, but also kind of hoping she won’t. She feels bad, and she doesn’t know if she has it in her to deal with Alex looking at her with those sad wounded fawn eyes. She shot Bambi. She deserves to feel bad.