Prompt from iamthebombandiknowit: "Alex/Maggie maggie getting amazed and aroused at the fact alex can sing"

So I should say at this point that chapter 4 this fic has Alex singing - but this is a request of a different nature, a different specificity, so I took it in a completely different direction than my first thoughts on Maggie hearing Chyler Alex – sing. I hope it's satisfactory! :)

Maggie knew it would be hard being just friends with Alex.

But she didn't know quite how hard.

For example: when Alex would stick her tongue out in concentration while setting up a particularly difficult shot at pool.

For example: when she would catch Alex staring at her sometimes, and it was all she could do not beg her to listen, just one more time, to the fact that Maggie did want her; the timing was just all wrong. All terrifying.

For example: when they rescued Jeremiah, and Alex spent an entire week without leaving his side, insisting on introducing Maggie to him in a capacity beyond 'she helped me rescue you,' and having Papa Danvers look at her in the same way J'onn did – like he knew Alex was in love with her, like he knew she was in love with Alex, and like he was just waiting for Alex to introduce her as her girlfriend, already.

For example: when Alex broke down crying after she finally came back to her apartment after spending that week alongside Jeremiah in the DEO, never going home, barely sleeping, like she was afraid that if she blinked, he'd be gone again. She fell into Maggie's arms the second they crossed the threshold of the apartment, and though it was genuinely Maggie's pleasure to be there for her, she wanted to be able to press kisses everywhere, not just to Alex's forehead.

For example: when, the next morning – Alex had, sobbing, asked Maggie to please stay before she passed out crying with pent up relief, rage, grief, and the thousands of other emotions that come from finding your long dead father after so many years – Maggie woke up on the floor next to the couch, where Alex had fell asleep, with a blanket draped around her and a pillow tucked under her head. Maggie certainly hadn't given herself those comforts the night before, just laid down next to Alex and watched her breathing steadily long enough to be satisfied she wouldn't have night terrors before passing out herself.

For example: when, that morning, Maggie woke up to an unfamiliar sound in her ears. The sound of gas on a stove, the harsh sizzling of oil; the sound of someone cooking for her.

But there was another sound, a sound that made it impossible for Maggie to see Alex as just a friend; the sound of Alex's voice.

She was singing. Alex Badass Danvers was singing. Softly, granted, careful to not wake Maggie. Softly, granted, careful to not be overheard because Maggie imagined singing went into the "too vulnerable to do in front of people" category for Alex.

But god, her voice was beautiful.

"'Cause you can't jump the track,

We're like cars on a cable, and

Life's like an hour glass glued to the table,

No one can find the rewind button,

Girl,

So cradle your head in your hands.

And breathe,

Just breathe."

She could hear the tears in Alex's voice as she pushed the notes out perfectly, more perfectly than Maggie had ever heard anything. The small wavers in her voice sent shivers down Maggie's core, the tremors of emotion, of vocal uncertainty, making the quality of her soft voice that much more perfect; that much more gorgeous.

Maggie wanted to stay there, laying on Alex's living room floor, wrapped in a blanket that smelled so much like everything that was Alex Danvers, listening to Alex sing.

But she sat up, stood up; because to listen without Alex's knowledge would be unacceptable to Maggie's moral code.

Alex started when she saw her, and she stopped singing abruptly.

"I woke you. I'm sorry." Her eyes were still red from last night's crying.

Maggie rubbed her own eyes, trying to be as casual as humanly possible. She smiled, and watched Alex melt slightly. She smiled harder.

"You don't have to stop, you know. Singing. I… your voice is really pretty."

"Pretty."

Maggie gulped and fought down how badly she wanted to take the woman in front of her to bed, the woman with enough passion inside her to be ruthless at work and softly sing a song like Breathe (2 a.m.) at home.

Maybe she was emboldened by the heady look in Alex's eyes; or maybe it was by how intensely waking up to… this… had turned Maggie on. Either way, Maggie stepped forward, stepped toward Alex.

"Better than pretty. Alex, your voice is gorgeous."

And suddenly the woman with the doe eyes was back, the one who pffted at compliments and crossed her arms across her chest like she was trying to hold in her giddy excitement at merely being close to Maggie.

"You think so?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Maybe I should uh… sing for you more."

"I'd like that. If you wanted to."

"Well hey… what are friends for?"

"Mmmhmm."

Their lips were about to touch and Maggie's hands were about to reach out for Alex's when something on the stove started sizzling, burning, yelping for attention.

Alex cursed and jumped to turn off the now burnt oil that she'd been preparing to drop pancake batter into.

She likes my singing, huh?

She'd have to talk to Kara about setting up a karaoke night…