The Marrying Type (Artsypolarbear)

The Marrying Type
by artsypolarbear
Series: The Marrying Type [1]

Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter,
Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Ranya, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Happy Ending,
Humor, Linctavia makes an appearance too, Past Abuse, Romance, Sassy Raven, Slow
Burn, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 75
Words: 247,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5939458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsypolarbear/pseuds/artsypolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
Clarke Griffin isn't the marrying type. Anything but that.
Marriage, for her, is out of the question. And yet, through some sick and
confusing twist of fate, she finds herself with a wife that she cannot recall a
thing about. Hell, she doesn't even know her name. Alexandria Woods cannot be
married. Not to anyone, and especially not to a woman. And yet, she is. Neither
of them know how or when or why, but they're married at least on paper. And what
ensues after their first (or second) meeting is a beautifully messy and eventful
love story.
</blockquote>
1. Chapter 1
**Author's Note:**
> i'm clexy-polarbear on tumblr, hit me up

> OK IMPORTANT NOTE: I update around 8-11pm EET EVERY DAY (exceptions may happen
but I like to think I'm regular)
>
_Of course it had to be raining. It was only natural, considering she had only just
left her apartment in a rush with no time to circle back for an umbrella. And of
course today had to be the day that she had slept through her alarm and was now
running late, running in the rain, praying she wouldn’t be late for her interview._
“So, would you describe yourself as an organized person?”
Clarke sat in a pristine white loft office, still trying to catch her breath from
her mile-long sprint down to the gallery. The man sitting across from her was
certainly judging her frumpy clothes and her messy wet hair which stuck to her
face. The interview, which she hadn’t been late for, had gone as well as Clarke
could have hoped.
She thought back to her apartment. There was not a single clear space on her
counters, nor on her floor, which was covered with dirty laundry and trash and god
knows what - no, Clarke Griffin was certainly not an organized person.
“I would say that I am, yes, when the opportunity is given. In my work I am
extremely organized.” She lied, trying her best to appear as cool and collected as
the slim man who was peering at her over his rectangle-shaped glasses. He was
dressed in the ugliest suit Clarke had seen in her life – olive green with a
‘flashy’ orange paisley pattern running in stripes along it’s bottom, it was almost
an insult to fashion everywhere. But this was the cutting edge of art galleries in
New York, and she had been lucky to even get an interview. So what if she botched
it, it wasn’t like she’d get it anyway.
The job on offer was literally the worst of the worst – only a little over an
internship position, she knew that even if she got the job her days would consist
very little of actual art-consulting and more of fetching coffee and being an
office lackey for the art snobs of New York.
But she needed the money.
She _desperately_ needed the money.
The man smiled at her, a forced, toothy smile, and Clarke knew then that she wasn’t
getting the job.
“Thank you very much, Miss Griffin. We’ll contact you as soon as we’ve made a
decision.”
He stood up as Clarke did, but did not offer his hand for her to shake. Clarke
nodded and muttered a goodbye before hurrying her steps out of the office, out of
the loft, and out onto the crowded streets of New York.
It wasn’t until she was back at her apartment that she let the frustration get to
her. She threw her bag against the wall, chucking her heels into the corner as she
grumbled curses and swears.
Once she’d rid herself of the ridiculously uncomfortable blazer and pencil skirt,
she fell back onto her bed, a bottle of wine in one hand and her phone in the
other.
As she waited for the call to go through, she took a lont swig from her bottle.
“Clarke?”
“I botched it, Raven. Drinks?”
Clarke heard an exasperated sigh on the other end. “That’s the third one this week,
Clarke.”
“He was wearing the ugliest suit.”
“Did you fuck it up on purpose?”
“No.”
“Meet me at the Ark in fifteen.”
Clarke sighed as she let her phone fall down onto the bed. She glanced at the other
side of the bed – it was empty, as it had been for at least two weeks now. Somehow,
sleeping in an empty bed did not bother her. If anything, it gave her solace,
knowing Finn wouldn’t be coming back.
Finn’s watch was still on the bedside table. She wondered if he’d ever come back
for it.
She hoped not.
With a groan, she stood up to get herself dressed so she wouldn’t be late. A
button-up and jeans would do, she decided, and only bothered to touch up her makeup
slightly before taking another swig from her bottle while grabbing her bag and
heading out of the door.
“Alright, Griffin, two shots and then you talk.”
Clarke had barely gotten into their usual booth when the barkeep had walked over
with four shots and a pitcher of beer.
“No snacks?” She asked him, flashing him a smile. He rolled his eyes and went back
to produce a bowl of nuts for the two of them before settling back behind the bar.
“Thank you, Lincoln.” Clarke called out. She only received a halfhearted grunt in
response. Lincoln was not much of a speaker, especially not when he was at work.
“Clarke.”
Clarke looked at Raven and sighed. “Fine. What is it?”
“Vodka. I want you speaking, dear.”
Clarke downed the first shot and grimaced as the liquid burned her mouth and
throat. “You clearly cheap-assed your way tonight. What is this, petrol?”
“I’m as broke as you are, Griffin.” Raven scoffed as she downed the second shot
with no visible reaction from her part. “Now down that shot and then spill your
guts, because you’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”
“Fine.”
The second shot went down easier. Clarke could already feel her head swimming and
her tongue loosening, and cursed Raven for knowing exactly how to get her to speak.
“Finn’s gone.”
Raven did not appear phased. “He’s always gone.”
“No, he’s gone for good. He left, Raven.”
“That’s good, right? You hated that bastard.”
Clarke shrugged. “Yeah. Not too much of a fan of his side-skanks.”
“I would have killed him, you know? All you had to do was ask.”
“Considering you _were_ one of said side-skanks, I feel like that would have been
somehow crossing the line. Besides, you gave him a proper ass-whooping already.”
Raven shot her a dirty look. “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He said he was
single and visiting town for _one night_. How was I supposed to know you’d walk in
in the middle of it all?”
“Best thing that happened to me all year, that’s for sure.” Clarke grumbled. Her
friendship with Raven was complicated to say the least. She had been one of the
many girls Finn had cheated on her with, but she had been the only one who hadn’t
known about Clarke. And when she’d found out, she had wasted no time to whoop his
ass and kick him out of the apartment to console an upset Clarke.
And somehow, a beautiful friendship had emerged from that unfortunate first-time
meeting.
“So he’s gone.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.”
“Not when I can’t afford the rent on my own.”
Raven’s expression softened. “You can always move in with me. My landlord is
super lax.”
Clarke sighed and rested her head against her hand. “I might have to take you up on
that. I couldn’t get the job today, and I can’t afford my current rent with my
waitressing. I might have to become a stripper.”
“You wouldn’t be a very good stripper.”
“I know.” Clarke sighed again. “I just can’t seem to get a job _anywhere.”_
“Maybe it’s your lack of professional ability?” Raven suggested. “You’re a free
spirit, Clarke. Not exactly the office type.”
“You’d think there were work for an artist somewhere, but no.” Clarke grumbled.
“Nothing for graphic design, either. My last commission was four weeks ago and that
only afforded me a new pair of shoes.”
“Okay, so what if you move in with me? That way you can afford the rent, and you
can keep searching for a new job if you want.”
“Raven your apartment is literally as big as a shoe box.”
“So?”
“Where would I sleep?”
“On the floor, of course.” Raven shrugged. “Nah, you can take the couch. There’s
room.”
“He owes me money, too.”
“That bitch. You want me to hunt him down?”
“No need.” Clarke sighed. “I don’t want to see him. Ever again.”
“Why’d he leave now?”
“Apparently he got a job in California. Or perhaps he just found a new girl to

fuck. Maybe a sugar mama.”
“He’d love that.”
“I kinda want to kill him, you know?”
“I'm sure that could be arranged.”
“But I kinda just wanna forget he even exists.”
“Who were we talking about again?”
* * *
The evening went along nicely enough. At some point, they were joined by Lincoln’s
newlywed wife, Octavia, and her brother Bellamy. A pool match ensued, which
resulted in even more drinks downed and a very drunk Clarke. She had no idea how
many drinks she'd had, only that her head was now adequately smashed and she had no
worries in the world.
She was so drunk that when her phone suddenly rang, she did not answer it at first.
She had momentarily forgotten how phones work.
“Clarke, your butt is ringing.” Octavia giggled from where she was sitting on the
bar.
“Booty call.” Bellamy quipped, and Clarke let out a burst of laughter.
“Oh, right. Phone.” She grabbed her phone and stumbled outside. She took a few deep
breaths before pressing the green button and raising the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” She slurred into the phone. “Who dis?”
“Clarke Griffin?”
“Yes, who this?”
“I’m calling from the West Valley Hospital. Your wife has been in an accident.”
_My wife?_ The word struck clearly in Clarke’s mind, and for a long moment, she was
silent. _Wife._
“Mrs. Griffin?”
“Yes, sorry.” Clarke stammered, fighting to sound as sober as she could. “I’m
sorry, wife?”
“Yes, your wife has been in an accident. The legal department is requesting that
you arrive as soon as possible.” The woman on the other end sounded tired. Clarke
wondered if she was judging her for being drunk.
She hoped not.
“I…I’ll try to arrange that as soon as possible.” Clarke mumbled. “I’ll see to it.”
She hung up then, still drunk and now extremely confused and shocked.
Wife?
She wasn’t married. She checked her left hand, her ring finger, but there was no
ring. She didn’t remember getting married.
_She wasn’t married._
She couldn’t be married…right?
But she had told the woman that she’d come see this ‘wife’ as soon as possible.
No, this was some sort of mix-up.
Where even was West Valley Hospital?
With a million thoughts running through her mind, Clarke stumbled back into the bar
and slumped into the booth, laying her head onto the table as she tried her best to
make sense of everything.
“Clarke?”
Clarke felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up to see Raven looking at her in
concern.
“What’ss wrong, Clarke?” Raven slurred as she slumped into the booth next to
Clarke. "Was it Finn?"
Clarke stared at Raven, and then began laughing. Raven stared at Clarke as the
blonde laughed, not knowing what to think. When it became clear that Clarke wasn’t
going to stop on her own, she swatted the blonde’s shoulder repeatedly until she
took in a deep breath and swallowed her giggles.
“What the fuck?”
“I have a wife.” Clarke giggled.
“Uh, no, you don’t.”
“A hospital lady called.” Clarke told her. “Said my wife was in an accident.”
“What wife? Clarke, you’re not married.” Raven insisted. “What the fuck was in your
drink?”
Clarke hummed and leaned back.
_Wife._
It didn’t sound so bad. If anything, the word made her heart feel warm and fuzzy
and drunk.
Or maybe she was just really really drunk.
“Clarke!”
She narrowed her eyes and frowned at Raven. “Gimme paper.”
She found a pen from her pocket and scribbled down a note to her sober self,
pocketing it in her bra for safekeeping.
“I’m marrieeedd….” She sighed contently. “Wifey. I wonder if my wife is pretty.”
“Clarke, I’m taking you home.” Raven decided. “You’re not married and clearly
you’ve drank way too much.”
It was a struggle to get Clarke home. In the end, it involved a lot of carrying and
maneuvering by Raven and Bellamy, but twenty minutes later Clarke was comfortably
settled in Raven’s upstairs apartment, laying on the couch with a glass of water
and an aspirin waiting for her hangover.
Clarke laid on the couch for a long moment after they'd gone back down, staring at
Raven’s filthy ceiling and thinking.
_Wife_.
She had a wife.
She couldn’t have a wife.
She wasn’t married.
She couldn’t be married. No, she certainly could not.
Clarke Griffin was definitely not the marrying type.
2. Chapter 2
**Notes for the Chapter:**
> i was really happy to see all your feedback, i've quickly fallen in love with
this story and it's gonna be fucking great just y'all wait
> keep the kudos and comments coming i am a vain person and i like the attention ;)
The next morning Clarke awoke with a pounding headache and with the feeling that
her stomach was trying to exit her body. She spilled the glass of water on the
floor as she scrambled to get to the bathroom, but the toilet was already occupied
by an equally as hungover Raven.
“Raven, I’m going to vomit.” Clarke said hurriedly. “Either you move or I’m going
to puke on you.”
Raven pushed a bowl towards her and muttered a few curses. “Fuck off. Stop
yelling.”
Clarke threw a scowl towards her, but the next second her insides came out and she
ignored everything else as she heaved everything out of her body into the bowl in
her hands. Once she was done, she laid down onto the cold tiles and shut her eyes
to try and ignore the throbbing pain in her head.
“God…”
“Shh…”
“What the fuck did we drink last night?” Clarke groaned. “Everything hurts. Are we
even alive?”
Raven swatted at her face to try and get her to shut up. “Shush.”
“My head hurts too so shush to you.” Clarke muttered. “This is your fault. I'm dead
because of you."
“You’re the one who invited me for drinks.”
“You’re the one who insisted we do shots of _vodka_.”
“Your fault entirely. Should’ve spilled your guts earlier.”
“Well I’m sorry I was busy—“ Clarke was interrupted as Raven heaved into the toilet
again, and she crawled over to hold her hair gently. Even though she was mad at
her, she still knew life was much easier to deal with when someone else was holding
your hair while you spewed out your insides.
“This is still your fault.”
“I’m dying, Clarke, spare me your cruel words and soothe my pained soul.” Raven
cried melodramatically as she flopped down onto Clarke, casting them both onto the
floor.
Clarke groaned as the movement made her head spin, and for a long while, they both
just laid on Raven’s bathroom floor, groaning and whimpering in pain.
“I hate alcohol.” Raven muttered. "I'm never drinking again."
“Ditto.”
“Do you remember anything from last night?”
“I beat you in darts--”
“In your dreams, Griffin.”
Clarke shook her head. “It’s just blank. I can’t believe I blacked out.”
“You’re lucky your shift starts in the evening.” Raven grumbled as she used the
bathtub’s edge as leverage to get up. “I’ve got work in an hour.”
“Lucky you.” Clarke hummed from the floor. “Lucky me.”
She shifted slightly and felt a stabbing pain in her breast. “Ow. What the fuck?”
Raven concentrated on trying to wash her face while Clarke pulled out a folded
piece of paper from her bra.
“What the fuck is this?”
Raven glanced at her briefly and shrugged. “Like I care.”
Clarke unfolded the piece of paper and took a long while to try and decipher what
the squiggly writing even read.
_Ur wife is hurt, she’s in W. Vallley Hopsital – Clarkee_

Clarke stared at the paper, her mouth hanging open. “Raven?”
“Huh?”
“Do I have a wife?”
“No?”
“Then who the fuck was I talking about in this?” Clarke stood up, her head
spinning, and shoved the piece of paper into Raven’s hand.
“What the fuck…” Raven began, but then a short memory returned to her. “Oh, right.
You got a phone call. A hospital lady, you said.”
“A wife? I was joking, right?”
“Probably. Easy to find out, though.” Raven quipped as her hand darted to Clarke’s
back and pulled her phone from her back pocket. Clarke grumbled and snatched her
phone from Raven’s hand.
Raven moved out to try and get dressed while Clarke rummaged through her phone log.
“I have a call from an unknown number.” She muttered as she walked into Raven’s
bedroom, where the brunette was struggling to get herself into a tight pair of
jeans.
“So call it back?”
“I can’t, it’s private.”
“Maybe they’ll call you again. It’s probably a mistake.” Raven said. Her voice was
low and hoarse, and she certainly did not look ready for work. “I can’t believe I
have to go to work and answer idiotic questions like this.” She gestured at her
Apple store employee shirt and her worse for wear face. "I'm not ready to answer
yet another question about charging your fucking phone with a different charger,
people are such idiots, I just can't--"
"Raven, you need the money." Clarke reminded her.
"That I do." Raven grumbled. "But if I die because some _idiot_ thought his phone
could withstand the rain, it's on you." She popped an aspirin into her mouth and
dry swallowed it before heading to the kitchen and pouring herself a large glass of
water. After she’d downed at least three of such glasses, she wiped her mouth and
looked at Clarke expectantly.
“Well? Are you just going to stand there all day?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Make me your delicious eggs, you goddess.” Raven said, rolling her eyes. “I’m
dying and only you can save me.”
Clarke’s head was still pounding, but she too felt the hunger gnawing at her newly
emptied stomach. She opened Raven’s fridge to find that the only two things in it
were a carton of eggs and a six pack of beer.
“You were prepared, weren’t you?” Clarke quipped as she took the carton and began
preparing her infamous eggs. It wasn’t as delicious as Raven made it out to be, but
any half-assed attempt at cooking was delicious compared to Raven’s disastrous
cooking.
Raven scarfed down a hefty amount of eggs before realizing she was going to be late
and darting out of the apartment. She was already out of the door when Clarke
realized her shirt was on backwards, but Clarke figured Raven would notice soon
enough.
She swallowed a few painkillers herself and laid back onto the couch in hopes of
catching a few more hours of sleep before she’d have to get to work.
But, of course, the universe was not going to let her have that. The instant Clarke
felt herself falling asleep, her phone rang. The sound was so loud and shrill it
pierced through Clarke’s conscious and struck at her already hurting brain. She
cried out angrily, grumbled a few curse words and then grabbed her phone, answering
it with an angry bark.
“What?”
“Mrs. Griffin?”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Angelica Sternway, and I work for the legal department of West Valley
Hospital.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“Your wife is currently at the hospital, ma’am, and we’d like you to come here as
soon as possible.”
“Why is the legal department involved?”
“She was in a car crash, ma’am.”
Clarke felt a moment of fear striking her chest, despite the fact that she had no
idea who her supposed wife was. She wasn't supposed to feel anything about a
stranger, was she?
“Are you sure your paperwork is right? I don’t have a wife.”
“It says right here in the documents that you, Clarke Griffin, are the legally wed
wife of Alexandria Woods. You are more than welcome to come here and see them for
yourself, but your presence is direly needed. Miss Woods’s legal representation is
soon to arrive as well, and I’m sure that they will be more than happy to arrange
transportation for you.”
Clarke huffed. “There’s got to be a mistake. I don’t have a wife.”
“According to these documents that I received from the State, you do.”
“I’ll come there to fix this.” Clarke grumbled.
“Of course. We will be waiting for you.”
The phone clicked, and Clarke immediately tossed it aside in frustration.
“Who the fuck is Alexandria Woods?” She practically yelled. The sound made her head
throb with another wave of pain, and she rolled to her side whilst groaning. “What
the fucking shit…”
* * *
She had just finished her eight-hour shift at the diner down the street when her
phone rang again. Seeing it was yet another private number, Clarke felt the sudden
urge to toss her phone into a trash can and to just walk away. But she knew it was
foolish, and besides – she was broke and couldn’t afford a new phone.
“Clarke Griffin.” She answered, trying to keep her voice as level as possible.
“Hi, yes, this is Gustus Pane from Woods Legal Services. I represent Alexandria
Woods?”
“Yes?”
“And, as you’re her wife, you are aware that I represent you as well?”
“What?”
“I understand there is some issue with your getting here, yes?”
Clarke could not believe what she was hearing. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of
sick joke this is, but I’m not married. This Alexandria…I’ve never met her in my
life.”
“The documents say otherwise, Mrs. Griffin,” Gustus sighed on the other end. “If
you’d be so kind as to send me the contact info of your workplace, I will take the
liberty to arrange for some personal time off work so that you can come here. There
are legal matters that we must discuss.”
For the first time that day, Clarke found herself wondering about the person who
was inevitably as much stuck in the middle of this as she was.
“How is she? Is it serious?”
She wasn't so sure why she asked. She wasn't even sure she cared. But hearing that
someone had been in a car accident, well, it brings out the human in all of us.
Even she couldn't be so cold as to not care about the fact that whoever this
Alexandria woman was could be dying at this very moment.
“She’s still in surgery.” Gustus said shortly. “Send me the info.”
Yet again, Clarke was hung up on. And, yet again, she felt the urge to throw her
phone into the trash. But she didn’t.
“Who the fuck is Alexandria Woods?” Clarke muttered to herself as she trudged
through puddles back to Raven’s place. “And when the fuck did I marry her?”
This had to be some kind of sick joke.
> i'm really enjoying raven's and clarke's friendship, it practically writes itself
3. Chapter 3
Raven arrived at her place later that night to find Clarke scowling at her
computer, hunched over the couch like a vulture.
“Clarke, what are you doing?” Raven asked. Her bag flew to the corner as she hopped
onto the couch beside her. The computer screen showed a map of something, and the
bright red dot indicated the location of a hospital named West Valley.
“You’re still pent up on that?”
“They called me, Raven. They want me to go there.”
Raven leaned in closer and studied the map. “To Washington? What the fuck?”
“I can’t believe this shit is happening.” Clarke groaned, flopping her head down
into her hands. “This is officially the worst hangover ever.”
“What even is going on? You’re not married. Are you?”
Clarke groaned again. “Apparently I am.”
“To who?”
“To some woman named Alexandria Woods.” Clarke grumbled. “What kind of a name is
Alexandria, anyway?”
“She sounds like a prissy rich bitch.” Raven offered. “You’d never marry someone
like that, not unless someone was threatening you at gun point.”
Clarke sighed. “I’m going to be a divorcee before I turn 25. I can’t believe this.
My mom is going to have a _field day_ with this. I can just imagine the
Thanksgiving dinner discussion. ‘Tell me again, Clarke, about the time you got
married and didn’t even invite me and divorced her before I got to even meet her?’”
“Are you sure you want to divorce her? What if she’s like, super hot?”
“I can’t even _remember_ marrying her. For all I know, it’s just some legal
mistake.” Clarke grumbled. “And I don’t care if she’s the hottest woman in the
universe. I’m not the marrying type.”
“That’s just what people say so others don’t think they have a chance at a long
shot with you.” Raven interjected. “There’s no way knowing you’re not the marrying
type.”
“I can’t even take care of myself, Raven,” Clarke whined. “How am I supposed to
live my life with someone else?”
“You make delicious eggs.”
“I’m going to have to fly over across the country to get a divorce. This is just
great.”
“But if she’s rich, you might get money.”
To that, Clarke’s eyes lit up. “That is a fair point.”
“That’s the spirit. You go be a gold-digging badass, Princess.” Raven chuckled,

nudging Clarke’s side. “Now I have a very important question to ask of you. Are you
ready?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you moving in?”
Clarke nodded. “I called my landlord today. I have to pay him this and last week’s
rent and then I’m free to live wherever I want. Even in this dump.”
“So welcome to the dump, then.” Raven said ceremoniously. “Would you rather
celebrate with Chinese or pizza?”
Clarke thought for a moment. “Both.”
“Both it is.”
* * *
“Okay, so when do you think you married her?”
“When could I have?” Clarke replied. “I haven’t had any significant memory losses
lately, have I?”
Raven laughed. “No, you haven’t. Unless you count the blackout from last night. And
last week. And last month.” She thought again, and waved her slice of pizza at
Clarke. “Actually, I’m surprised your brain isn’t any more smashed than it is. You
don’t treat it very well.”
Clarke stole a bite from the pizza slice dangling in front of her face and grinned
wildly. “I’m just that reckless.”
“No but seriously. Lets think about this logically. Where in the States can you
even get married on a whim?”
“Atlantic city?”
“Yeah but that takes a few days. More time to have second thoughts.”
Clarke raised her eyebrows, and Raven immediately shot to add: “Not that I’ve tried
or anything-”
“Right.”
Raven’s eyes widened and she almost choked on her pizza when realization struck
her.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“I think I know when and where you got married.”
“Do tell.”
“Vegas.”
The realization struck Clarke like lightning.
_Vegas._
They had gone there for Octavia’s bachelorette party in February. They had been
there for three entire days, and of those days, Clarke only recalled two. She had
never thought much of it, figuring she’d just been drunk and possibly spent some
time with people that she shouldn’t have.
Never in a million years would she have thought she would go and marry someone.
“You disappeared!” Raven cried, now sure she had figured it out. “We thought you
were just passed out somewhere but clearly, you had a way more eventful time.”
“They…that can’t…”
“Homegirl you got yourself a wife from Vegas,” Raven laughed. “I can’t believe it.
Clarke Griffin, the girl who claims she hates the very institution of marriage -
goes and accidentally marries someone.”
Clarke shoved Raven roughly, but the girl only laughed. “Shut up.”
“It’s so romantic. I’m sure you spent your wedding night banging her in some
classy-ass casino bathroom.”
“Oh god, Raven, _please_ shut up.”
“So you’re going to fly across the country, and you don’t even know a thing about
this woman?”
“Is gay marriage even legal in Nevada?” Clarke wondered, ignoring Raven’s question.
"Clarke. Get with the times. It's legal _everywhere._ "
"Well excuse me for forgetting the laws changed less than a year ago."
"I can't believe you forgot."
"I didn't. I tried to find a reason as to how the marriage couldn't be legal."
"Maybe the minister was smashed. That could call for an annulment, right?"
“Oh shut up.” Clarke grumbled.
Suddenly Raven leaned across her lap and took the laptop. “I’m going to do some
research.”
“Stalking.”
“ _Research_.” Raven repeated as she typed ‘Alexandria Woods’ into the search bar.
“Oh, look, I was right. She _is_ rich.”
Clarke leaned over, now intrigued, and skimmed her eyes along the titles that had
been pulled up in the search.
“She’s an heiress?” She wondered aloud.

“To the infamous Woods Legal Services, as well as to the family estate.” Raven read
aloud. “Shame there isn’t a picture.”
“Her parents are there, though.”
Raven pulled up the picture of two grim-looking people. The woman was slim and had
sharp features, as well as piercing green eyes and a frown that made Clarke’s heart
freeze over. She felt like she was a child again, ready to be scolded by the
principal for some mindless prank she’d done.
The man in the picture was no less intimidating; he was sturdy and stood shorter
than his slender wife, but his eyes were piercing as well as determined. He looked
like a warrior, not a businessman, and Clarke was sure that in court he was
ruthless. Both of them had dark hair and somehow Mediterranean complexions, and
Clarke found herself trying to mash their features together to imagine what their
daughter looked like.
“They’re scary-looking.” Raven commented. “Your in-laws are terrifying. I hope they
won’t kill you.”
Clarke looked at the sites listed absent-mindedly. There was barely anything on
Alexandria Woods, but when she omitted her first name and searched for her parents
instead, she found a whole load of hits.
“They’re adamant anti-gay protestors?” She exclaimed, not believing her eyes. “Oh,
god, Raven look. They’ve donated money to the fucking Westboro Baptist Church.”
“Oh my god what a family of dicks.” Raven laughed. “I can’t believe you went and
gay married their daughter. They’re going to be _furious_.”
Clarke realized this and was now very terrified. “What do I do? Do I go? He looks
like he’d snap my head off upon sight. I can't go like that, I’m too young and
beautiful to die.”
“Oh please, Clarke, I’m sure your lesbian lover will protect you.”
“Why did the hospital call me, though? And not her parents?”
“It says here they’re on a month-long cruise in the Bahamas with no connection to
the outside world. Some kind of fund-raising event for awareness about the dangers
of modern technology. Fuck, are they from the medieval times or something?” Raven
exclaimed as her eyes skimmed over the article. “This is amazing, Clarke. You’ve
corrupted their daughter. I seriously hope you had loads of dirty filthy lesbian
sex with her on your wedding night.”
Clarke rolled her eyes so hard she feared she’d hurt her brain. “Raven, shut the
fuck up or I’m going to gag you with an egg roll.”
“You can try but you know I can swallow those things whole.” Raven quipped, turning
her attention back to the computer.
Clarke’s phone rang for the third time that day, and for the third time, Clarke
groaned audibly as she got up to fetch it.
“It’s her lawyer. Oh wait, sorry, it’s _my_ lawyer.” Clarke scoffed as she stepped
out of the window onto the fire escape to get some privacy.
“Yes?”
“I have arranged for three weeks off from your work.” Gustus informed her. “Your
plane leaves from JFK at eleven tonight.”
Clarke glanced at the clock and saw that it was just little past seven. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. We would like to get these legal matters settled as soon as
possible.”
“Okay. What are the flight details?”
“It’s a private jet.”
Clarke’s heart stopped for just one second. “A private jet?”
“Yes, naturally. I will text you the further details, but you will require some
sort of identification. Try not to bring too much luggage.”
“What about accommodation there?”
“You will be welcome to stay at the Miss Woods's holiday estate. It's only a short
driving distance from the hospital.”
“Fair enough.” Clarke sighed. “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow morning, then?”
“Yes. Safe travels, Mrs. Griffin.”
Clarke stood on the fire escape, stunned, afraid she might fall were it not for the
sturdy metal railing that was pressing against her stomach as she leaned against
it. The cars were whizzing back and forth underneath, and she could hear the steady
hum of the city in her ears. The lights never went out in New York, not completely
– it was one of the reasons she had come here. Here, she wasn’t stuck in the dark.
But now she felt panic in her chest, and she feared she might throw up.
A gentle hand on her back was all Raven did to tell her she was there. She did not
speak, only waited patiently for Clarke to wrap her mind around everything that was
going on. She understood how shocking this was. Even to her it was bizarre, and she
wasn’t the one caught up in the middle of this whole mess.
“She’s got a private jet.” Clarke finally managed to stammer. “A fucking private
jet.”
Raven let out a whistle and leaned against the railing beside Clarke. “Shit, that’s
awesome. I’ve never been on a private jet.”
“And you think I have?”
“There’s a first time for everything, right?”
Clarke sighed. “I don’t want to go.”
“But you have to. Clarke, you have a wife. You have to at least see her.”
“Why?”
Raven shrugged. “Perhaps she’s Mrs. Right.”
“There’s no such thing.” Clarke scoffed. “Love isn’t real, not for me.”
“Well at least go face the woman you married in your drunken stupor and figure out
how to get out of this mess. You can do that.”
“I’m not sure I can. It’s just so bizarre…”
“Either you get on that private jet yourself or I’ll be forced to tie you up and
drive you across the country. Your choice.”
“Is it bad that I’d rather drive?”
“Shut up. You _have_ to go on this plane. If not for your sake, then for mine.”
Clarke flashed her a tentative smile. “Fine. I’ll get on the plane. But you’re
driving me to the airport.”
“Didn’t expect anything less, Princess.”
* * *
So it turns out cross-country flights in commercial airplanes are an entirely

different thing than flights in private jets. Upon her arrival at the airport,
Clarke’s luggage was promptly collected by a butler-looking man, who directed her
to the small plane as though she were a celebrity. The plane was all hers; there
was one stewardess, who was more than glad to provide Clarke with any food or drink
she could think of. The seats reclined down into a complete bed, and after
indulging in some delicious food and drink she flopped down and fell asleep.
When she woke up, she felt nourished and well rested. She did, for just one tiny
moment, forget where she was and where she was going. The bed she laid in was
comfortable and smelled like hotel sheets, but her bubble was shattered when she
turned to her other side and saw a small oval window and _clouds_.
With a start she remembered that she was in a plane flying across the country. “Ah,
fuck.” She muttered. A glance at her phone told her that it was just little past
4AM in New York - 1AM in Seattle. She turned to her side to go back to sleep, but
the next instant she heard footsteps and the stewardess’s gentle voice, telling her
they would be landing soon and that she should get into a seat for the safest
landing position.
When they landed, it was around 2 in the morning in Seattle. Clarke was exhausted
to say the least, and barely noticed who took her luggage or where she was going.
She just followed the butler-man she’d seen in New York, and soon enough she was
sat into a fancy car and they drove off into the night.
She slept most of the ride, and when she woke up she found that they had arrived at
what she could only describe as a palace. Even in the dark of night, the estate she
saw was huge. The house was like a fancier version of a lodge, with three stories
and large floor-to-ceiling windows facing into all directions. On it’s eastern side
Clarke saw a lake, glimmering in the moonlight, and she wondered where she actually
was. It was like she’d stepped into some sort of alternate universe where she was
rich and no one scoffed at her for being who she was.
“Welcome to the Woods Lodge.” The butler told her. “My name is Edwards. I will be
at your service during your stay here.”
“Thank you.” Clarke mumbled. “Can you show me to my room?”
With a nod the butler picked up her duffel bag and she followed him into the house.
It was furnished with the finest of tastes, and Clarke knew that even just one
little item in the room was most likely worth more than everything she owned.
She followed the butler up winding staircases and down a few halls until they came
to a halt in front of a door. The butler pushed it open for her, and Clarke entered
to find just about the most comfortable looking room she’d ever seen.
Edwards left her bag next to the door and shut it carefully, leaving Clarke alone
in the room.
First and foremost the room was big.
It was definitely way bigger than Clarke’s entire apartment.
Near the door there was some sort of sitting area, with leather armchairs gathered
around a stone fireplace. The room stretched out, and opposite the door the wall
was completely of glass. Before the glass wall there was a small elevated space,
where there stood a bed. The bed was large to say the least, and it faced the
windows so that when Clarke went down to lay on it, she was surrounded by windows
and the nature that resided right outside. The sheets were expensive to touch and
to look at; they were a fine pale green, and so soft and smooth it felt to Clarke
like she was laying atop a cloud.
Quickly as she could, she shed her clothes and pulled out her sleeping t-shirt. She
was about to step into the hall in search of a bathroom when she noticed a second
door near the fireplace. Behind it, she found a bathroom which, yet again, was huge
in proportion to the fact that it was meant to be used by one person. It was of
warm beige tile, and there was a Jacuzzi as well as an elaborate rain-shower.
Clarke longed to use them both in that instant, but she was too exhausted for that.
Instead, she quickly brushed her teeth and washed off the little makeup she’d put
on before tying her hair up in a bun and heading off to bed.
_Tomorrow,_ she thought to herself before falling asleep, _tomorrow I’ll meet my
wife._
She shuddered at the thought. Whether it was from anticipation or from fear, or
from disgust, Clarke did not know.
> she's gonna meet lexa in the next chapter

> i'm afraid this is probably gonna be slow burn
> which is ironic considering they're married
> but just wait and see its going to be hilarious
4. Chapter 4
> if you haven't noticed it yet raven is my baby

> you guys' are so nice with your feedback, it really makes my day :)
Clarke woke up in the morning to blaring sunlight and the annoying, shrill ring of
her cellphone. Thinking it was yet another lawyer or hospital personnel, she
grabbed it and angrily punched the screen to accept the call.
“What?”
“How dare you fly across the country and _not_ call me when you land?”
Clarke smiled when she heard Raven’s voice. “I’m sorry, Raven, I was exhausted.”
“Oh, wow, I’m sure flying private is very exhausting. Where are they keeping you, a
palace?”
Clarke had stood up now, and walked over to the window to properly take a look at
the estate. The sun was shining outside, and she could see miles and miles of pine
forest and lush green grass. To her right, she noticed the lake glimmering in the
sunlight, vast and a deep cerulean blue. She wanted to paint it all.
“Pretty much.”
“You’re joking.”
“It’s this…lodge thing. In the middle of the woods, but it’s so fancy. I swear,
she’s probably going to be the prissiest bitch I’ll ever meet, because these people
are loaded.”
“Send me pictures?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and make sure to steal something for me.”
Clarke chuckled. “Sure. Something small, though. I don’t think there’s anything
_cheap_ within the vicinity of this house.”
“Except you.”
“Shut up.”
“Have you met her yet?”
“No.” Clarke said. “I just woke up.”
“Ok, well, I gotta go to work but you get your ass to that hospital. Call me if
she’s hot. Or if she’s a bitch. Oh fuck just call me, okay?”
Clarke laughed and hung up the phone. Raven’s energy and endless joking was
certainly making her feel better at the current moment. Even so, she couldn’t deny
that she was nervous.
How often do you get to meet your wife for the first time?
Clarke rummaged through her bag and pulled out the most reasonable-looking clothes
she could find. Even so, when she emerged from the room wearing black jeans and a
t-shirt, she felt out of place in the fancy lodge.
She went downstairs and was struck by how open the spaces were. The entirety of the
lower floor was one big open space, which was currently filled by flowing morning
sun which appeared warm despite the fact that it was well into October. Somehow the
space had seemed smaller in the dark of night, but now, she came to see that the
lodge had just as much free space inside as it did outside.
“Good morning, Miss Griffin.”
Clarke whirled around to find Edwards standing before her. He was wearing a suit as
he had been the night before, and his eyes appeared to bear no judgement whatsoever
of her attire.
“I took the liberty of setting up breakfast on the patio, as the weather is

absolutely marvelous today. It is relatively cold, though. Did you bring a jacket,
or would you like to borrow some of the Miss’s?”
Clarke gaped at him for a bit and cursed herself for forgetting that it was
significantly colder up here in Washington state. “Uh, I didn’t bring a warm
jacket…I’d be happy to borrow one, if that’s okay.”
The butler nodded and gestured towards the patio door with his hand. “It’s right
through there. I’ll bring you a jacket.”
Clarke nodded a thanks and walked – no, wandered – over to the patio door and
stepped outside.
The cold autumn air rushed at her bare arms, and she inhaled sharply as she felt it
bite into her and make the hairs along her arms rise. Despite it’s deceiving
appearance, the sun provided little to no warmth to her. The pine woods began along
the edge of the green that stretched out far into the field before Clarke. The
garden was expertly tended to, with sandy paths running amidst bushes and pools and
grass patches that were all perfectly rounded and shaped. The air smelled of pines
and freshly cut grass, and Clarke inhaled deeply. She hadn’t had much chances to
get out into nature in New York – the closest she’d had was Central Park, and that
did not even compare to the lush woods of Washington.
“Here, Miss Griffin.” Edwards had come up behind her so quietly Clarke jumped at
his voice, but turned to find he was holding two different jackets in his hands.
“This one is the Miss’s favorite.” He said, offering Clarke a surprisingly casual-
appearing jacket. “I brought another in case you’d prefer this—“ He lifted a
peacoat in his other arm. “Whichever you’d like.”
Clarke looked at the two coats for a brief second before opting for the one Edwards
had offered her first. “Thank you, Edwards.”
The butler nodded and made his way back inside. Clarke held the jacket in her hands
and found herself wondering about it’s owner. It was a dark blue bomber jacket,
clearly worn out from frequent use, and as she slipped it on she thought she
smelled the hint of an expensive, pleasant perfume - fruity and sharp, yet somehow
not as sweet as you'd think. The jacket was more casual than she’d imagined someone
as rich as these people would wear – in fact, it was almost more like something
Clarke could have found in her own closet. It fit her perfectly, and warmed her
right up as she walked over to the breakfast table and sat down into one of the
wooden chairs.
After scarfing down a whole pile of pancakes and blueberries and bacon and eggs,
Clarke returned into the house in search of Edwards. Instead of the butler,
however, she ran into another man in the hall. He was tall and burly, with a finely
cut beard and somehow kind eyes which peered at her curiously through round
glasses.
“Miss Griffin, I presume?”
Clarke nodded slowly. “And you are?”

“Gustus. We spoke on the phone.”
“Ah, yes.” Clarke said, taking his outstretched hand and briefly shaking it. “Nice
to meet you.” _I guess_.
“Would you like to go over the legal details now?”
Clarke made a face. “Uh…sure?”
“Right this way.”
Gustus led Clarke into some sort of study and sat her down before a table.
“So, what would you like to know first?”
“Why am I here?”
The man nodded. “Right to the point.”
“Yeah, I’d very much like to know what’s going on.”
“Well, you were called here because your wife was in a car accident. She’s
currently recovering from surgery, and the prospect seems fine. I’ll take you to
the hospital once we’ve covered these matters.”
“Why does she need legal representation?”
“Her accident was a head-on collision with another car. The other driver was dead
on arrival.”
Clarke gasped slightly. “Really?”
“She was also driving while under the influence. From what I understand from
preliminary reports, it was her car that ran into the other, which would mean she
will be charged with a DUI and manslaughter.”
“Whoa.” Clarke couldn’t think of much to say. “Then why am I here?”
The lawyer shifted uncomfortably. “Miss Woods was declared mentally…incapable of

making decisions for herself a few months ago. It is only a temporary solution, but
for the time being, any medical procedure or legal decision has to be run through a
next of kin. Her parents are unavailable at the moment, and she had no emergency
contact so the hospital requested marital records just in case and found you.”
"So I'm what, her legal guardian?"
"In theory, yes."
“I’d have to make decisions about her treatment?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.” Clarke scoffed.
“You’ll also have to testify in court, if it gets that far.”
“What?”
“About her mental status.”
“I don’t even know her!”
“You’re her wife. It will be seen as strange if you don’t at least appear.”
“I literally didn’t even know I was married until the hospital called me.”
“That is…unfortunate, but I’m afraid your testimony is necessary.” Gustus said
simply.
“This is fucked up.” Clarke blurted out. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t even know I had a
wife. When did we get married? Is it even legal?”
Gustus rummaged through some papers. “You got married in Las Vegas, Nevada, on the
17th of February this year.”
“And it’s completely legal?”
“Yes, Miss Griffin, it is.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sure once Miss Woods wakes up, we will come up with a solution to this…
predicament.”
“Predicament?” Clarke scoffed. “I’m going to be a divorcee before I turn 25. How is
that a predicament?”
“You forget that Miss Woods will also be a divorcee before 25.”
Clarke sighed. “Forgive me, I’m just really messed up in the head right now.”
“I understand.” Gustus said. “Would you like to go see her?”
“Is she even awake?”
“Not yet so far as I know, but perhaps seeing her will jog your memory?”
Clarke groaned and stood up.
“Perhaps.”
* * *
The whole ride to the hospital Clarke felt the anxiety brew up inside her. She
wasn’t so sure why she was so nervous – this was just some woman, someone she’d met
once and never remembered – she shouldn’t have been nervous. But, as they arrived
at the hospital and she was led through sterile white halls and found herself in
front of a door, she realized she was extremely nervous.
“Now, she is still asleep, but she should be waking up soon enough.” The nurse said
as she opened the door and let Clarke in. “I’ll give you some privacy. Just press
the green button on the wall if you need anything, ok?”
And then the door shut behind her and Clarke found herself alone in a room with the
woman who supposedly was her wife.
The instant she saw her, Clarke understood why her drunk self could have gone and
married her.
_Shit. She's a freaking goddess._
She was absolutely stunning. Even with bruises and cuts on her face and wherever
Clarke could see bare skin, and having just come out of a car crash the night
before, she was easily the most beautiful woman Clarke had seen in her life. Clarke
could not tear her eyes off of the brown-haired beauty in the bed, and noticed how
calm she looked in her sleep – she had wondered whether she would have the same
piercing cold green eyes as her parents, whether she would be as scary-looking as
they were – but this woman seemed to have none of their sharp, vulture-like
features and harsh looks. She looked soft, with a perfectly symmetrical and
constructed face with a high brow and the cutest nose, and perfectly round ears and
god, Clarke couldnot stop looking at her.
But then she felt butterflies in her stomach, and the urge to hold the
woman's hand, and the next thing she knew she was out of the room and looking for a
bathroom.
_No way,_ Clarke thought to herself as she locked herself into the cubicle and
leaned against the wall, _there’s no way that’s my wife._
But she had also seen the file on the bedside table, which had read the name that
had haunted her ever since she had heard it for the first – or maybe not so first –
time. The butterflies had shocked her to say the least. Clarke Griffin did not get
butterflies.
Clarke Griffin did not do actual long-term relationships.
Finn had been an exception, and Finn had proven to her just how right she had been
about love and its’ inexistence.
Clarke Griffin did not do romance. Clarke Griffin did not wish to hold hands with
beautiful strangers. Not even if they were her supposed wife.
Which this woman wasn’t. Not really. They were married on paper, but Clarke was
sure that would be fixed soon enough.
Except now she wasn’t 100% sure she wanted it to be fixed.
_Dammit, Clarke, you came here to divorce her and you damn well are going to go
through with it._
She slid down along the wall and sat down onto the floor, burying her face into her
hands. She had to stop these feelings. These…flutterings in her chest and the
warmth in her mind, they had to go. They were messing up her mind in ways which she
refused to accept.
No, they had to go.
After a few minutes, she cleared her throat, took a few deep breaths, then stood up
with shaky legs and headed back out into the hall to find her wife. She could do
this – she was just admiring her looks because they were so fine, and she was an
artist who enjoyed beautiful things. That was it.
When she entered the room for the second time, Clarke was glad to notice that there
wasn’t a flutter in her chest or butterflies in her stomach.
But had she been better acquainted with the ways of love, she would have known that
the smile that spread onto her lips without her even noticing was a tell-tale sign
that the flutters and butterflies hadn’t just disappeared. They’d just taken
different form.
Clarke now saw that the woman’s chest was bound, and that her right arm was in a
cast. She now wondered how injured she was; she had heard she had been in surgery,
but Clarke wasn’t so sure she’d been told what kind. Perhaps she'd forgotten.
“Alexandria Woods.” She murmured. Clarke felt disappointed that she couldn’t
recognize her – not even her name said anything to her. Her mind was completely
blank. The woman in the bed was no one to her, and yet, somehow, she had married
her in a drunken stupor. She was looking at her wife, and yet she had no glimmer of
recognition in her mind or in her heart.
She was afraid to go any closer. She wasn’t sure she had the right to. Even though
she was technically this woman’s wife, they were strangers. She had no right to be
looking at her like this, to be in her hospital room – and yet here she was,
staring at her, wondering whether she’d be okay.
“Miss Woods?”
Clarke turned her head to find a doctor had entered the room.
“She’s not awake yet.” Clarke said, thinking the doctor had spoken to the woman in
the bed.
“I know, Miss Woods.” The doctor smiled. “I thought you’d like to know more about
your wife’s condition.”
Clarke was taken aback when she realized the doctor was addressing _her_ as Miss
Woods. Even the mention of ‘your wife’ was too much for her, but being addressed
with a different last name – with _her_ last name – oh no, that was way too much.
She sat down into the chair next to the bed because she suddenly felt dizzy, and
received a sympathetic look from the doctor.
“I’m doctor Wells, by the way. Wells Jaha. I’d go by my last name but my father
works here as well – he’s the cardiothoracic surgeon – so I go by my first name.
Just in case you get confused.” He flashed her a shining smile, and Clarke found
herself thinking he reminded her of a puppy. He seemed very young to be a doctor –
no older than herself – but once he began talking about medical terms, his puppy-
likeness fell away and was replaced by strict professionalism.
“Right, so your wife was involved in a car crash, as you know. The impact caused
her arm to break – you can see here that there are multiple fractures to her wrist
and left ulna, as well as to her left humerus. We’ve set the bones and put her arm
in a cast, and it should heal just fine in time.”
Clarke nodded and waited for the doctor to sort out his papers and scans before he
continued.
“There was also a piece of metal that ran through her chest – here, you can see the
X-rays – but we were able to extract it without much further damage. It punctured
her pleural sac, and the surgery was long but they were able to repair it. I’m a
general surgeon so I wasn’t the one who operated, but I’ve been told there will be
no future damage. She will be hospitalized for probably a week or so, and then be
on strict bed rest for at least a month. She should heal completely, though.”
Clarke took the X-rays and looked at them against the ceiling light like her mother
had instructed her many a time. What she saw was a sharp piece of metal protruding
through a chest cavity, and she noted how close it had been to the woman’s heart.
The realization how close the brunette beside her had come to bleeding out struck
her, and she felt shock where it shouldn't have been. She shouldn't have cared
about this woman's health. She was a stranger.
“Close call.” She said without even realizing it.
“You’re a doctor?”
“My mother is.” Clarke shrugged as she handed the scans back. “I’ve seen plenty of
x-rays.”
“I see.”
“Will she be waking up soon?”
“Yes, she is just sleeping now. She's off the sedatives.” Dr. Wells stood up then
and gave her a smile. “Your wife is in good hands, Miss Woods.”
“Miss Griffin, actually.” Clarke corrected him. When she saw the confusion in his
eyes, she hurriedly added: “I…I kept my last name, so it’s miss Griffin.”
“I see. Well, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask one of the nurses to
call for me. Miss Griffin.”
Clarke nodded, and with that, the doctor left. She didn’t know what to do then; she
didn’t feel like she could leave now, not so soon. She also felt pity for the woman
in the bed – there were no friends, no family members outside waiting to come in to
see her. She was alone, save for Clarke, and so Clarke sat back down and decided to
wait until she woke up.
Maybe then she’d have some proper answers.
> ok so maybe this wasn't so much a meeting but more like clarke hovering over
lexa's bedside and being creepy
> i changed this scene probably twenty times before settling on this one, there are
so many ways this could go its hard to choose the best one
5. Chapter 5
> thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos, i'm not gonna say names
but some of you are literally guessing where i'm planning to go...
> but there are still plenty of surprises, i'm sure
_Beep._
The first thing Lexa became conscious of was the constant beeping that seemed to
penetrate her conscious and drill into her brain. It was annoying to say the least,
and she wished she could get up and destroy whatever stupid machine was making the
noise. It was driving her crazy.
_Beep._
Slowly, she became more and more aware of her surroundings as she was drawn into
reality. Her body felt incredibly heavy, like there was a weight pressing down onto
her. Her limbs were not under her control, not yet at least - she tried to lift her
arms, but there was a different weight pressing - no, all around - her left arm. It
was somehow constricted, and she could not move – not much, anyway. Her mind was
clouded over, too, and Lexa recognized the haziness of sedatives all too well. It
was clearing, but too slow for her liking.
_Beep._
She couldn’t move. Her eyes shot open, and all she saw was blinding whiteness. She
was in a white room, empty except for her bed and the window to her right, and the
machine that was connected by wires that ran into her shirt and onto the patches on
her chest and which was the guilty party causing the insufferable beeping noise.
_Beep._
She turned her head, ignoring the throbbing pain in her skull, and saw she was not
alone. In the chair next to her bed sat a stranger. A woman, at that. She seemed
young, probably around Lexa's own age, and she was asleep; her legs were stretched
out before her, and her head rested against her hand which leaned onto the arm of
the chair. Lexa paid notice to her hair, and how beautifully blonde it was and how
the sunlight seemed to glint off of it and make it look like pale gold. Amidst the
golden locks she caught sight of a face, and for a moment, she could have sworn the
beeping noise became just slightly quicker as she realized just how beautiful this
woman was.
_Beep._
She then noticed that the jacket the woman was wearing was her own. It was
certainly hers, there was no doubt about it; she recognized the tear on the right
sleeve that had been caused by an offending rose bush on a particularly
invigorating nature walk just last week. The rush that ran through her body when
she saw this beautiful woman wearing her jacket was incomprehensible to Lexa. It
felt somehow…intimate, despite the fact that the blonde was a complete stranger to
her.
_I should say something_ , Lexa thought to herself _, find out why she’s here. Who
she is. Why am I here?_
_Beep._
The last thing she could clearly remember was being in the lodge, sitting on the
kitchen floor with a bottle of vodka – no, it had probably been whiskey, since
she’d drank the vodka the week before – and then it was just hazy memories after
that. She remembered getting in a car, and then there had been bright lights…and
then it was just blank.
She tried to speak, but found her mouth was parched to the point where swallowing
was painful. She tried to reach the glass of water on her bedside table, but found
she was basically unable to move.
As though someone had read her mind, the door opened quietly and a nurse stepped
in, clad in light blue scrubs and wearing an insufferably chirpy smile on her face.
When she noticed Lexa was awake, her smile widened even more, proving Lexa wrong
about it being impossible to smile from ear to ear.
“Good morning, sunshine.” She said in a hushed voice so as to not wake the woman in
the chair. “Need anything?”
“Water.” Lexa croaked. The nurse smiled again and reached for the cup, which she
held to Lexa’s lips as she drank all of it until there wasn’t a drop left.
“Thank you.” Lexa sighed.
The blonde in the chair stirred, and the nurse shot Lexa a strange, knowing look.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.”
She slipped out just as the blonde woke up, and Lexa saw now that her eyes were the
brightest blue she had ever seen. Her breath hitched in her throat as the blonde’s
eyes met with her own, and for a long while, they were both silent, just studying
one another.
Lexa was not in her right state of mind. Had she been, she never would have said
what she said next.
“Are you an angel?”
She saw the blonde blush, and a smile spread onto her face when she saw that it
made her features even more appealing than they’d already been.
She hadn’t even thought it possible.
“No, I’m not.”
Clarke studied the brunette before her. The nurse had warned her that she could be…
well, a little high, because of the pain medication that she was on. That much was
obvious now – though the brunette’s green eyes appeared focused, fixed onto Clarke,
she figured that this wasn’t exactly how a sober person conducted themselves around
a stranger who they find waiting at their bedside in a hospital.
“Are you sure you’re not an angel?”
“Why?”
“You’re very beautiful.”
The blonde blushed again. She was pretty when she did that. Way too pretty. The
machine began beeping faster again.
“No, I’m afraid I’m completely human.”
“Then who…are you?”
The brunette’s voice was slurring adorably, Clarke noted, and it was all she could
do to not allow herself to smile. “I’m Clarke Griffin.”
“Clarke Griffin…”
“And you’re Alexandria Woods?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?”
“I don’t like…my name. It’s Lexa. Don’t call me…Alexshandria.” The brunette
mumbled, her voice faltering and slurring over her own name. “Call me Lexxa…”
“Okay, Lexa it is.” Clarke sighed, though a smile was tugging at her lips.
“Clarke…” Lexa giggled then, and Clarke furrowed her brows as she waited for the
giggles to pass. “Isn’t that a man’s name?”
“It’s unisex.” Clarke grumbled, rolling her eyes.
“Clarke.”
“Are you just going to be repeating my name?”
“Clarke. It’s pretty. Rolls off my tongue like water. Clar-ke. Claarke. See?”
Clarke rolled her eyes and sighed. She wasn’t going to get anything out of her, not
when she was incapacitated like this. She would just have to wait for the pain
medication to clear off, which could take hours.
“Clarke?”
“Huh?”
“Are you sure you’re not an angel?”
“Pretty sure.”
“You’re pretty, you know that?”
“How about you sleep?” Clarke suggested. “We’ll talk when you’re more sober.”
Lexa smiled and laid back against the pillows. “I like you, Clarke. Good night.”
* * *
About half a day later Lexa was finally on lower levels of pain medication, and
when Clarke returned from getting a late lunch in the cafeteria she found a now-
sober Lexa staring at her in complete and utter confusion.
“Uh…hey?” Lexa said quietly. Her green eyes studied Clarke carefully, because she
seemed somehow familiar and yet she knew she had never met this woman in her life.
She couldn't recall much of what had happened earlier that day; from her
perspective, she had just woken up from a particularly long sleep.
“Hey.” Clarke said as she promptly walked over and took her seat in the chair next
to the bed. Lexa noticed how natural this seemed to her, as though the blonde had
already been in her room and sat in that chair beside her. But it couldn't be.
She didn't know who she was.
“Who are you?” Lexa asked, furrowing her brows. “You don’t look like a nurse. Or a
doctor.”
The blonde stared at her and blinked. “You don’t know?”

“No. Should I?”
“Oh thank god.”
“What?”
“I’m Clarke.”
“I’m Lexa.”
_Yeah, I know._
“So you’re sure you don’t recognize me?” Clarke asked.
“I’ve never met you in my life. Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Okay, this might sound crazy – actually, it is crazy – so just brace yourself,
ok?”
Lexa stared at Clarke and waited, not sure what she was talking about.
“Right.” Clarke took a deep breath and tried to avoid the woman’s piercing green
gaze. “You…and I….uh…we’re kind of, sort of…married.”
“What!?” Lexa cried out, unable to control her reaction. She flinched when her own
voice caused her headache to worsen, and gritted her teeth to regain herself. “What
the hell do you mean married?”
“As in wife and, well, wife.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Were you in Vegas around the 17th of February this year?”
“Yeah?”
“Then it’s possible.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“That’s what I said when I heard.”
“We’re married?”
“And I’m stuck here because apparently your parents are unavailable and you’re not
fit to make decisions for yourself-“
Lexa flinched when Clarke said that. “Don’t remind me.”
“Anyway, I’ve been dragged here to say what they’re allowed and not allowed to
do.”
Lexa stared at Clarke. “This is crazy.”
“I know.”
“I don’t even know you.” Lexa stammered. “I mean…I don’t remember you. You’d think
I’d remember getting married.”
“I thought so too.”
“It’s October. We’ve been married for almost ten months.”
“Ridiculous, right?”
Lexa chewed her lip and averted her eyes from the blonde, realizing now that she
had been staring at her face. “Why am I in a hospital?”
Clarke’s eyes shifted to Lexa’s face and saw how confused the brunette was, and
suddenly realized she felt pity for the brunette. “You were in a car accident.”
“What?”
“Apparently you were…driving drunk and your car collided with someone else’s.”
“Is the other driver ok?”
Clarke was silent. That was Lexa’s answer.
“Dead?”
“I’m sorry.”
Tears welled up in Lexa’s eyes, and she grabbed the covers to hide her face.
“Damnit.” She did not want to be crying, and she certainly did not want to be
crying in front of this beautiful creature who was annoying and terrifying her with
just her existence. But the tears pushed through, sobs racked her chest and made
pain erupt in her broken ribs, and she hid her face away in hopes of keeping the
little dignity she had left.
Clarke had no idea what she was supposed to do. The woman before her was crying,
her thin hand gripping the sheets over her face so tightly Clarke saw her knuckles
were almost as white as the fabric bunched between them. She didn’t know whether
she should try and comfort her, or whether she’d be rejected – in truth, she didn’t
even know how to comfort someone who had just found out they _killed_ someone.
So she sat there, silent, and waited until the sobs ceased and the sheet was pulled
back down to reveal a tear-stricken face that still somehow managed to take
Clarke’s breath away.
_Damnit, Clarke, you’re going to divorce her. She’s not attractive to you. She
can’t be._
“And they’re—“ Lexa began, her lip quivering as though she were about to cry again.
“They’re sure it was my…my fault?”
Clarke bit her lip to prevent herself from saying anything stupid. “Um…I’m not
sure, actually. I can go ask, if you want.”
Lexa nodded. “Please. I’d like a moment alone.”
The instant the blonde had disappeared out of sight, Lexa let out a shaky breath
and the tears were back. She cried silently – it was the only way she knew how –
and in that instant, she felt as broken on the inside as she was on the outside.
The thought that she had killed someone made her feel like she had been the one
who’d died. She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to do – she had ended a
life. There was someone out there right now, missing someone who would never come
back home. And it was her fault.
There was a second reason to her hurt and pain. She was terrified to the very core
of her being by the blonde and what she had said.
_Married._
She couldn’t be married.
Not to a woman. It was wrong.
_It isn’t wrong,_ Lexa thought bitterly, _but father and mother will never see
that. They don’t see that._
With a start Lexa realized that the beautiful, angelic creature who apparently was
her wife had to go. She had to go as soon as possible, immediately if she could,
before her parents found out and did what they always did.
She could not protect herself, but she could protect her.
_Clarke._
The instant she had seen Clarke she had felt pain. It wasn’t because Clarke caused
her pain, not at all – if anything, it was what Clarke made her feel that caused
her pain. She couldn’t be attracted to a woman. Not again. Never again.
It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t for her.
* * *
Clarke stepped out of the room and shut the door as quietly as she could. She
wasn't so sure who she should ask about the accident. As her eyes ran over the
waiting room, she remembered Gustus and pulled out her phone to send him a quick
text for an update.
"Miss Woods?"
Clarke was surprised when she found herself answering to being addressed with
Lexa's last name. She turned around to find two police officers standing before
her, and her blood ran cold. Clarke had been in her fair share of troubles with the
police, and even now, knowing she hadn't done anything, she panicked just a little.
"Yes?"
"We would like to discuss your wife's accident with you, if that's okay."
Clarke nodded slowly. "Okay."
She was led to a small office and sat down in an incredibly uncomfortable chair,
which only added to her growing discomfort. The police officers seemed nice enough,
and she even caught a smile from the younger one when the two of them sat down.
"Right, so we will get straight to the point. We're sure you're very stressed at
the moment as it is."
Clarke nodded again.
"As you know, our preliminary reports stated that it was most likely your wife's
car which had caused the accident, as it was in the opposite lane and she was,
well...incapacitated. We're here to tell you that we were wrong."
A weight left Clarke's chest and surprised her. She hadn't known she had been
worried.
"We were able to pull some video footage from a private owner which clearly shows
that the other driver's car first swerved into the opposite lane and your wife
tried to avoid a collision by switching over to the other lane, but the other car
returned to it's own lane and thus caused the collision."
"That's...that's good news." Clarke stammered.
"And since she was the victim in this case, all charges will be dropped since she
was not the perpetrator. Your wife is innocent, Miss Woods."
Clarke stood and smiled. "Thank you, officers. I will go tell her right now, it's
been stressful for her, not knowing."
"Have a nice day," The younger officer said. Clarke's eyes flickered down to his
chest to see that his name was Jake.
_Dammit._ He would've been a good distraction otherwise. But there was no way
Clarke would even consider seeing someone with the same name as her father. No,
that was too weird.
* * *
There was a soft knock on the door, and Lexa hurriedly blinked back tears and wiped
at her eyes as Clarke stepped back in.
“Hey. I have some good news.”
Lexa looked at her quizzically. “Tell me we’re not married.”
Clarke’s face fell. “I’m afraid that’s still in place.”
“Fuck.” Lexa sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re a great person but I can’t be
married to you.”
“Neither can I.” Clarke said, offering a gentle smile as she sat down into the
chair.
_Fuck, did she have to smile?_ Lexa groaned inwardly at the warmth that spread
through her chest when she saw the blonde smile.
“Okay, so the accident wasn’t your fault.” Clarke told her.
A weight disappeared off of Lexa’s chest and she literally gasped for air for a
second as she felt relief wash over her in waves.
“Apparently there was some video footage which shows that the car steered over into
your lane, you tried to avoid a collision by moving into the opposite lane, and
then it went back to it’s own lane and you crashed head-on.”
“Oh thank god.” Lexa sighed. “I mean, it’s still awful that someone died, but…thank
god it wasn’t my fault.”
Clarke sat quietly and let the information sink in.
“So what exactly happened to me?” Lexa finally asked. She wished she could ask
someone else – a doctor, a nurse, someone – but the nurse from earlier had been so
annoying she refused to see her again.
Clarke shifted in her chair slightly. “I can tell you. Your right arm is pretty
broken, but they’ve set the bone and it’ll be fine in a month or two. A few broken
ribs, too. And there was a piece of…something, metal or whatever, that basically
impaled your chest right in between your right lung and your heart. It burst your
pleural sac but didn’t hit your lung or anything vital, so you’ll be just fine so
far as I know.”
“Why do you know this?” Lexa asked, perplexed as ever. “Isn’t there some kind of…
patient-doctor confidentiality?”
“They told me.”
“Why?”
“I’m your wife.”
“You’re not my wife.”
“At least there’s one thing we can agree on. Legally, however, I am your wife and
thus all the medical things have just been thrown at me.” Clarke grumbled. “But
apparently because of your whole ‘mentally incompetent’ thing, divorce is going to
be fucking complicated.”
Lexa cringed. She could tell Clarke wanted to know what it was about and she was
definitely not ready to tell her about it. She wasn’t so sure she could trust
Clarke yet.
“Tell Gustus to start on it.” Lexa sighed.
“He already has.” Clarke sighed. “Apparently I have to live in the same state as
you for at least six months before they’ll even consider our case.”
_Crap._
Lexa sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“If I hadn’t gotten into an accident, you wouldn’t have been dragged here. I know
you’re probably the one making my medical decisions, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry about that too.”
“It’s not like the accident was your fault.”
“Still. I’m sure you have a life you’d like to get back to.”
Clarke nodded. “Yeah.”
The door opened and in walked Dr. Wells. His face visibly lit up when he saw Lexa
was awake, and Clarke wondered how such a ray of sunshine could be in such a
depressing line of work. There was a visible bounce in his step as he walked over
to stand on the other side of Lexa’s bed, a whole pile of papers in his hands.
“Well, Miss Woods, I am glad to see you awake.”
Lexa smiled. “Thank you.”
“I just came here to ask miss Woo- I mean miss Griffin about your treatment.”
Clarke glanced at the brunette, expecting her to look annoyed at being discarded
like so. But she only saw content acceptance, and wondered briefly whether she had
been like this for a while.
“Would you like to speak outside?”
“It’s fine here, I mean if you don’t mind-“ Clarke said, glancing at Lexa. She
figured Lexa would at least want to hear what was going on with her treatment.
“No, not at all.” Lexa assured her, grateful to be included in the discussion. “Go
ahead.”
Wells pulled up another set of x-rays and set them onto a light-board. “I’m afraid
you’ll be requiring another surgery, miss Woods.”
“Internal bleeding?” Clarke wondered aloud, recognizing the shadow on the x-ray.
“That’s right. There’s some free fluid in her abdominal cavity, most likely from
the impact of the crash. It’s hard to predict where the fluid will gather or
escape, so we’ve been taking scans every few hours or so to ensure we don’t miss
anything.”
“And you want to operate?”
“Yes, as soon as possible.”
“Are there risks?”
"I'll be going in laparoscopically. It's a minimally invasive procedure, and

shouldn't take very long. Very few risks involved, aside from the usual risks
involved with general anesthesia."
Lexa listened to the hushed conversation, left out as ever, and cursed her parents
once again. She wanted nothing more to be in control of her own life, but that
chance had been stripped away from her, leaving her vulnerable and feeling like
nothing more than her parents’ playtoy.
* * *
_Lexa walked into her parents’ study with a wary expression on her face. Her
parents were not sitting down as she had expected; they were standing in the middle
of the room, their faces stony and stoic, and in that instant panic rose up in
Lexa’s chest and she wanted nothing more than to run away._
_But she did not run away. Instead, she directed her feet calmly to where her
parents stood, and met their eyes with matching coldness within her own._ _Theirs
was real. Hers was fake. But there was no_ _real_ _difference._ _It was all just
cold._
_“You called?”_
_“Yes, dear. Do take a seat.”_
_They sat down onto the luxurious leather seats, and Lexa forced herself to
concentrate on her breathing and keeping her posture perfect as she eyed her
parents carefully._
_“It has come to our attention that you have given in to your…_ _urges_ _again.”_
_Lexa’s heart sank. How could they know? She hadn’t spoken of her to anyone. She
hadn’t seen her since that night, not once. The only one who knew was herself…and
her._
_Of course. They had done this before. How could she have_ _forgotten?_
_“I see.”_
_“Do you deny it?”_
_Lexa wanted to say yes. But she knew better than that._ _If they were asking, it
meant they already knew the truth._ _They always knew the truth._
_“No.”_
_The disappointment and anger was obvious in both her parents’ eyes_ _, but in
their eyes alone – nothing in their countenance or posture gave away the fact that
they were furious at her_ _._ _It never did. Lexa was not worthy of their
emotions._
_“It is clear that you cannot control these urges. You understand that it is a
sickness, yes?”_
_“Yes.” Lexa said without any emotion in her voice_ _, monotonically like a robot
would. But_ _her heart screamed_ _in protest within her chest; she could
practically feel it banging against her ribcage, trying to tell her that this was
wrong, that they were wrong – but she pushed it down and ignored it_ _. Her voice_
_may have been_ _calm, but her mind was not – it was racking up a storm, but she
kept it contained like she always did._
_“We are sorry that we have to do this, Alexandria.”_
** _Alexandria._**
_The name lashed at Lexa like a whip, and she flinched ever so slightly._ _She
wished it hadn’t been seen, but of course it had – she saw her father’s brows
furrow, and knew what words would come next._
_“You are not weak,_ _Alexandria_ _. You will not cower_ _.”_
_Lexa nodded and dug her nails into her palm behind the cushion as she met her
father’s eyes. “Yes, father.”_
_“It is an illness, Alexandria, to desire your own sex. You know this; we have
told you this over and over again, and yet you defy us. We understand now what we
have been doing wrong.”_
** _You do?_**
_“We have been giving you too much freedom. You’re sick, Alexandria. We will heal
you.”_
** _No._**
_“We are now responsible for you and your health, Alexandria. You will come live
with us. In time, your urges will pass. You will learn to ignore your demons.”_
**_How can I ignore my demons when they’re sitting right in front of me?_ **
> ok so there's a lot of potential for angst but i'm still tryna keep it light
> angst and clexa seem to go hand in hand but i promise there will be tons of fluff
and adorableness
> keep the kudos and comments coming darlings :)
6. Chapter 6
> ok so maybe this chapter is sinfully long but i wasn't looking at the word count
and then i finished and it was like twice as much as what i'd aimed for but eh
> you guys are more than welcome
> there's angst but there's cuteness too
“Lexa?”
Lexa snapped out of her thoughts and back into reality. She jumped slightly when
she saw Clarke's face close to her own – not very close, but closer than she’d been
a moment ago – and she shuffled a little ways’ away from her.
“Yes?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
“Do you want the surgery?”
Lexa stared blankly at Clarke. “Are you letting me choose?”

“Yes. I figured I should at least let you have a say in this. Since, you know, it's
your body.”
“Are there risks?”
“Minimal ones.”
Lexa nodded. “I’ll have the surgery.”
“Alright. I’ll go tell the doctor.”
Lexa watched Clarke walk away. She could not _believe_ she was married, let alone
the fact that she was married to a woman.
She couldn't even begin to wrap her mind around the fact that she was married to
this Clarke Griffin.
It did not help that she was a literal angel on earth. She knew she had to stop
feeling whatever she was feeling. Her parents would find out, and all hell would
break loose. Lexa knew she could handle whatever they threw at her. She had to. It
was her life.
But she did not want this beautiful angel to be dragged into the hell that was her
life.
No, she would rather die than allow that to happen.
* * *
Clarke had decided to wait until Lexa’s surgery was done. She wasn’t so sure why.
She felt sorry for the brunette, recognized some degree of similarity between the
two and knew that she’d want to have someone there if she were in the same
position. Clarke knew she would have rather had a stranger there than be alone, and
figured Lexa would want the same.
Not to mention she was legally responsible for the woman. The fact that she had
been given the task of deciding what was right for Lexa’s treatment baffled her to
say the least – who was she to say what was right and what was wrong? She was not a
doctor, nor did she really know Lexa. She felt like a fish out of water, except
instead of being on land it was more like someone had chucked her out into outer
space with no clue of what to do with herself or others.
She sat in the empty hospital room, curled up in her seat, and drew. She drew
because she felt like she had to – her mind felt as though it would explode if she
did not occupy it with something. Too much had happened in the past 48 hours for
her to not be messed up.
She drew whatever she saw, whatever was on her mind – the room, the window and the
scenery beyond, what she could remember of the lodge – anything could do. She drew
her apartment back in New York, she drew Raven and her apartment, she drew her
favorite restaurants and favorite places. She just drew, because that was what she
really loved to do.
When she’d run out of anything else to draw, she found herself drawing the woman
whose life had so unexpectedly intertwined with hers.
She drew the picture to such detail she surprised herself. She hadn’t even realized
she was imprinting the brunette’s face and features into her memory, but it was now
obvious that she had. Clarke may have been an excellent artist, but even she
couldn’t draw hyper-realistic drawings of peoples out of memory unless she had
_really_ studied them.
_It’s just because she’s beautiful_ , Clarke told herself, _her features are just
nice and symmetrical and perfect for drawing._
But she knew that to some extent that wasn’t true. Lexa Woods was definitely
attractive, that much Clarke could admit – the fact that Clarke had found herself
rethinking the divorce idea told her that it was a matter of more concern than just
looks.
She glanced at the clock. Lexa had been in surgery for a little over an hour now.
Dr. Wells had told her it’d be around two hours at it’s most, and so Clarke pulled
out her phone and dialed the second number in her speed dial. The first was her
mother. She was certainly not going to call her yet. No, Clarke was going to wait
until her marriage was settled, one way or another, before calling her mother.
Raven picked up so fast Clarke was sure she'd been waiting for her call.
“How’s the wife?”
Clarke groaned. “She’s…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Oh god, Clarke, that’s not good. I was hoping she’d be an ugly
little bitch and you’d come skittering home as quickly as you could. Is she hot?”
Clarke sighed. “I guess…”
“Send me a picture.”
“She’s not here.”
“Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“Why are you at the hospital and she isn’t?”
“She’s in surgery. I’m in her room.”
“Oh.” Raven was quiet for a while. “Wait. She’s in surgery and you’re _waiting_ for
her?”
“Yeah. I figured she wouldn’t want to wake up alone.”
“God, Clarke, I’d say I hear wedding bells if they hadn’t chimed for you two
already.”
“Raven, shut up.”
“Draw me a sketch of her and send that.”
Clarke was quiet for just the slightest moment, and that gave rise to a gasp from
the other end. "Don't tell me you've already drawn her."
"Shut up."
“You’ve already drawn her?”
“I swear, Raven, I will kill you one day.”
“You’ve drawn her, Clarke. This is too precious.” Raven was practically laughing,
and Clarke rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“So what if I’ve drawn her? She doesn’t want to be married to me. And I’m not the
marrying type.”
On the other end, Raven bit her cheek to refrain from pointing out that Clarke had
failed to say she didn’t want to be married to this Alexandria. She figured she’d
let that slide.
For now.
“Fine. How’s the divorce coming along?”
“It’s a bit more…complicated.” Clarke sighed and briefly explained the situation,
only lightly sharing the ‘mentally incapacitated’ part. She didn’t know that much
herself, and figured Raven didn’t have to know every detail. By the end of her
explanation, Raven was swearing she’d move to Seattle with her in the spirit of
solidarity.
“Just in case,” she explained right before she hung up, "I’d just be there to
protect you and your precious little heart from evil rich homophobic lawyer
asshats.”
She had hung up quickly when her boss had caught her taking a liberally long break,
leaving Clarke chuckling alone in the now darkened hospital room.
She got up to put on the lights but instead found herself distracted by the setting
sun that she glimpsed from the window. Without even noticing, she found herself
standing before the window, her eyes running over the horizon which was being
painted pink and red by the last remaining traces of daylight. She could see the
city’s skyline beneath it, flat and barely even there, and with a start she
realized she didn’t know where she actually was.
She pulled up the maps app on her phone and waited an insanely long time –
like five seconds – until the little pin fell onto the map.
“Polis?” She exclaimed. She’d never heard of the city, and as she zoomed around the
map she saw why; she was literally in the middle of nowhere, close to the Canadian
border with only little towns for miles and miles. Looking out of the window, she
was convinced that the five-story hospital was the tallest building in the city,
which to Clarke looked about as big as a village.
“Geez, how far from civilization have I come?” She wondered aloud. Clarke had never
lived in a city that wasn’t a bustling metropolis: first in Chicago, then in Los
Angeles, then in Boston before finally settling herself in New York. She had never
even considered going outside big cities – to her, there was nothing to see in a
place where you couldn’t get takeout five steps from your doorstep.
The thought of takeout reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and her
stomach grumbled as though on cue. She groaned and grabbed her wallet before
heading out of the room in search of a cafeteria or something that offered anything
even relatively edible which didn't have the consistency of goo.
When she returned, the bed was back in the room, and Lexa with it. A nurse quickly
informed her that Lexa’s surgery had gone well and that she had a minor incision on
her stomach which required rest. The brunette was fast asleep when she entered, and
Clarke settled herself into the chair next to the bed to wait for her to wake up.
It took almost an hour before she noticed the brunette stirring in her sleep.
Thinking she was waking up, Clarke set her sketchbook aside and looked at her. But
what she saw was not waking up, but an obvious nightmare; the brunette’s eyes were
squeezed shut as she whimpered quietly, trying to squirm away from an unseen evil.
Clarke touched the brunette’s arm gently without even thinking. “Hey.”
Lexa did not wake up, but Clarke noticed her breathing ease the instant her hand
touched her arm. She laid her palm onto Lexa’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze as
she cleared her throat.
“Lexa.”
With a little heartwarming wince, the brunette opened her eyes just slightly to
peer at Clarke. “What?”
“You were having a nightmare.”
Lexa’s eyes flickered to Clarke’s hand on her arm, and Clarke instantly withdrew
her hand. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Lexa sighed, closing her eyes again to try and calm her racing heart.
“Thank you.”
Clarke eyed her carefully, not sure how to conduct herself around the brunette.
“What was it about?”
Lexa flinched.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Clarke added gently.
“It’s nothing, really.” Lexa mumbled. Her command of her limbs was slowly
returning, and she carefully raised her good hand up to push a strand of hair away
from her mouth.
Silence befell the two of them. Clarke was anxious to break it – she found herself
wanting to know more about Lexa, wanting to learn who she was and what she did and
what kind of a person she was. Lexa, on the other hand, was terrified of wanting
the same things, though she failed to realize that Clarke was agonizing over the
same questions in her own head.
“So…” Clarke finally said, breaking the silence. “We’re married.”
“Yeah.” Lexa sighed. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s fucked up.”
“It is.”
“Do you have an actual relationship?” Clarke asked quietly. “Just in case some
boyfriend shows up here and finds out…I’d like to be prepared.”
“No boyfriends.” Lexa mumbled.

“None?”
“No.” Lexa denied immediately. _Not ever._
“Girlfriends?”
Lexa froze, and Clarke saw her eyes widen in shock.
Or was it fear that she saw swirling deep in those beautiful green orbs?
“No.”
But this time, her denial was choked, and there was pain in her voice which made
Clarke's heart cringe.
“I don’t really have girl or boyfriends either, so that’s good. No one to murder me
for infidelity and that stuff.” Clarke said quickly, trying to lighten up the
mood.
Lexa breathed a heavy sigh, and Clarke’s eyes flickered over to see that she looked
extremely tense.
“Where are you from?”
Green eyes met blue, and Clarke smirked slightly before adding: “I’m just trying to
make light conversation. Since, you know, we’re married and stuff.”
“We’ll get a divorce soon enough.”
“Yeah, but I’m stuck here until morning because apparently Edwards had some urgent
business to attend to and you crashed the only other car.”
“I could arrange a ride for you.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Clarke shrugged. “If it gets boring or you want to sleep, I’ve got
entertainment.” She patted the sketchbook in her lap.
“You draw?”
“Draw, paint, sculpt, design…you name it.” Clarke shrugged.
“Are you an artist?”
“A struggling one, yes.”
“Where are you from?”
“I asked first.”
“Bridgeport.”
When Clarke’s face remained confused, Lexa rolled her eyes and added: “It’s in
Connecticut.”
“Oh, right. Well, I’m from New York. Or I live there at the moment. I’m kind of
from everywhere.”
“What do you do?”

“I try my best to survive as an artist.” Clarke quipped. “I work at a diner and do
freelancing work where I can. And I've become a professional at getting rejected
from just about every job on offer in my area of interest.”
Lexa nodded. She couldn’t help but envy Clarke’s freedom, despite knowing that the
life of a diner waitress was far from glamorous.
“How about you?”
Lexa’s face flushed. “I…I don’t really work. I do some publicity things for the
family estate, but mostly they leave to my own devices. I sometimes help mother
with her projects.”
“What sorts of projects?”
“She’s…my family is very heavily involved in activism.”
Clarke realized Lexa was talking about the whole ‘support homophobic institutions
and the destruction of technology’ shebang, and reminded herself to not give away
the fact that she’d stalked her on the internet.
Research.
She’d done research. Not stalked.
“What kind of activism?”
“It’s…it’s not that important. I don’t support them, anyway.” Lexa said, shifting
her eyes away from Clarke. “I just help out because I don’t have much else to do.”
“That’s nice of you.” Clarke commented.
“I guess.”
There was something about Lexa that intrigued Clarke to no end. She was so guarded,
so jumpy, that she just _knew_ she had to know more. She couldn’t help herself or
her curiosity, nor the sympathy she was quickly beginning to feel for the
brunette.
“So what are you doing here in Washington, if you’re from Connecticut?”
“I was here on vacation.” Lexa sighed. “My lodge is an hours' drive from here.”
“I know, I’m staying there.”
Lexa had figured as much, since Clarke was wearing _her_ jacket which she had left
at the lodge two days ago. Not to mention she smelled like her shampoo and her
conditioner and her soap, all of which were in her shower at the lodge. But she
didn't say anything about it. She rather enjoyed the way seeing Clarke wearing her
jacket made her feel. She couldn't explain it, but it just somehow made her
feel...warm.
“How are you liking it?”
“It’s huge. And so beautiful. I've never slept in a more comfortable bed in my
life.”
“I'm glad to hear it.”

“And it’s all yours?”
“Yeah.” Lexa shrugged. “It’s…yeah.”
“Whoa.”
Silence fell over them again, and after a while of awkward sighs Clarke flipped her
sketchbook open and began drawing. Lexa laid back against the pillows and tried to
sleep, but instead found herself listening to the sounds from her right side. The
scribbling of the pencil along the paper, the constant sighs and breaths she could
hear from the blonde, even just the sense of her presence – Lexa drank that all in,
knowing it was as close to the blonde she could ever allow herself to get.
“Clarke?”
Clarke paused her drawing and looked at Lexa. She had thought the brunette was
asleep, but found now that those piercing green eyes were staring at her with the
oddest expression.
“Yes?”
“Do you remember anything?”
Clarke didn’t have to ask to know what Lexa was talking about. “No. Not a thing.”
“Why were you in Vegas?”
“A bachelorette party. You?”
Lexa shrugged. “Needed to get away for a bit.”
“And you don’t remember a thing?”
“Nothing. It’s like I just…lost an entire day.”
“Same.”
“How could we have gotten married and then just…forget about it?”
“We were pretty drunk, I’m sure. I at least _had_ to be.”
“How come?”
“I—don’t get me wrong, you’re pretty and I’m sure you’re nice, but I’m really not
the marrying type.”
“I see.” Lexa said, though she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
Only a little, though, because her mind soon fixated on another fragment of
Clarke’s words.
_You’re pretty._
This beautiful woman, this angelic creature thought she was pretty and in that
moment Lexa was ready to die.
“My parents are going to be furious.” She mumbled, more to herself than Clarke, and
she was surprised when she heard Clarke reply.
“How come?”
“They…” Lexa began, but she choked down her words and forced the stony façade to
appear. “Nothing.”
“Hey, I’d like to know if I have to change my name and run for my life or
something.” Clarke interjected. “You can tell me. I won’t share.”
Lexa looked at Clarke, and saw for the first time the honesty in her eyes. This
woman was simultaneously a complete stranger to her and yet she felt _so_ familiar,
despite the fact that Lexa knew that they couldn’t have known each other for longer
than day in February, which was now months ago.
Even so, she found that she trusted Clarke.
And it helped that her head was just slightly swimming in the comforting confusion
of whatever was dripping into her veins through the needle on her arm.
“They don’t accept…you know, women with women. Or men with men. In any form. They
believe it’s a sickness.” _They believe I’m sick._
“That’s horrible.”
“If I tell you something, will you promise not to bring it up ever again?”
Clarke moved closer, now intrigued but also slightly concerned. “Sure.”
“Promise.”
“Cross my heart.”
Lexa took a deep breath. “They think I’m sick.”
Clarke had figured as much about Lexa, but nodded nevertheless.
“Because you’re…”
“Gay.” Lexa’s voice wavered over the short word, and Clarke couldn’t help but
notice the conflicting emotions that resided over her – she was so tense, so
afraid, and yet so determined to not be, and it was obviously racking her from the
inside.
“Okay.”
“They think they can fix me.”
“That’s awful.”
“That’s why I’m…mentally incapacitated, or whatever the documents say. So that they
can control me.” Lexa practically spat the words from her mouth, and Clarke heard
the venom dripping in her voice.
She felt anger rise within her – if there was one thing that riled Clarke Griffin
up, it was the mistreatment of gentle hearts. And Lexa -- well, Lexa was obviously
a gentle heart.
“How can they do that?” _How can anyone_ _do something like that to someone as
amazing as you?_ "When did they do that?"
"About five months ago." Lexa sighed. “They’re too powerful, Clarke."
"No, but how did they actually do it? Being gay isn't considered an illness
anymore, hasn't been for decades..."
"They managed to convince enough therapists and judges that I was suicidal,
depressed and a danger to myself. They didn't need to tell them I was gay."
"And that's how they just took away your rights?"
"Pretty much..." Lexa muttered. "They also made me look like a drug addict and sent
me to rehab for two months. That helped their case."
"What the fuck!?"
Lexa just stared at her hand, which was endlessly tugging and nipping at the loose
strings along the edge of her blanket.
"How the fuck did they make you look like a drug addict?"
Lexa was quiet for a long while before answering.
"My mother gave me these pills. She said they were vitamins. She wouldn't let me
not take them, like if I refused she would sit me down and wait until I did."
Lexa's voice was small, weak, and she sounded completely defeated as though she had
no desire to go on. Clarke could practically hear her heart shattering in that
moment, and realized then that all she really wanted to do was to wrap Lexa in her
arms and shield her from all the cruelty the world was trying to shove at her.
"But they weren't vitamins, were they?" Clarke asked, her voice tentative, making
sure she wasn't overstepping her boundaries. She tried her best to push her anger
back inside; Lexa wasn't the object of her anger, and she saw now that this topic
was especially sore for the brunette – any elevation in tone of voice was enough to
make her flinch visibly, and Clarke had no desire to make her hurt.
"No. I don't know what they were, but they made my head spin but I just thought
that I was imagining it and she told me so too. I didn't really care whether they
were drugs because they made me feel good and I didn't know why they were drugging
me...then two months later they slipped me a bigger dose to make it look like I'd
OD'd and I was in the hospital for four days before they sent me off to rehab."
Clarke sprung out of her seat then, unable to contain her anger any longer. She was
furious to say the least – all she wanted to do was kick some royal homophobic ass,
but the two people whose ass-whooping she was yearning for were currently
unavailable and so instead she just paced around, seething with anger.
"Holy fuck that's so illegal I don't even know—I'm gonna kick your parents' asses,
I swear to God and Jesus and the universe, I'm gonna kill them..." Clarke cried
angrily. "I can't fucking believe they did that to you, I mean--"
"Clarke."
Lexa had been quiet, watching Clarke pace back and forth while voicing the very
same things which her own heart had been screaming for years. All it took was that
one little word, her name, to tumble from Lexa's lips and Clarke's anger melted
away in the face of concern for the brunette.
"What?"
"It's my life. You don't have to get mad about it."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because they're abusing you, Lexa, that's why. They're _hurting_ you. I mean, god,
they put you in the hospital for four days-"
"It's my life."
Clarke shook her head angrily. "You don't deserve this kind of life. I know you
probably think you do, but you don't and I'm damn well not going to just walk away
and leave you to these...these..." She faltered, and cursed herself for not being
as apt with insults as Raven.
"I--" Lexa began, but she did not know what to say. She was surprised by Clarke's
outburst, and even shocked at what she'd said. "Walk away?"
"If all that stands between you and them is me, then I'm not going anywhere."
"Are you saying you don't want a divorce?"
Clarke could've sworn she had heard the slightest hint of hope in Lexa's voice.
"I'm saying I'm not divorcing you until you have your own rights and you're as far
away from those monsters as possible."
"I can't get away from them."
"I'm your legal guardian, aren't I?" Clarke replied. "You can get away with me."
"I don't want to mix you up in my mess!" Lexa snapped suddenly. "I won't let you do
that," she added, her voice now soft, "I can't let you do that."
"Tell me how much of a mess it is and let me decide if I want to get mixed up.
How's that?"
Clarke watched as a world of emotions passed through those beautiful green eyes.
There was fear, there was confusion, there was surprise...but there was also an
overwhelming amount of gratitude which made Clarke feel elevated and appreciated in
ways she had never felt.
"Are you sure you want to hear?"
"Is it that bad?"
"It's fucking shit."
Clarke chuckled gently. "If you want to tell me, you're more than welcome to. I'm
not easily phased."
Lexa felt fear enter her heart again, and cursed.
“Hey.”
Lexa glanced up at Clarke. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”
Lexa gaped at Clarke, unsure of what she meant or what she should say in response.
“What do you mean?”
“Look, I know you barely know me but…” Clarke’s voice trailed off, and she studied
the brunette carefully. “I just…We don't have to talk about this. I just want to
know if you're okay.”
Lexa had answered that question a million times.
_Are you okay?_
** _No_** _. “Yes.”_
Her mouth tried to shape the word – her tongue was already touching the top of her
mouth, ready to form the syllable – but for some reason, she choked on the first
letter and said nothing. Clarke was looking at her, but it was not the invasive
probing looks that Lexa had grown accustomed to receiving from the dozens of
therapists and priests and ‘experts’ and doctors she’d been forced to see. Clarke’s
eyes were gentle – her whole countenance was, as though she knew how fragile Lexa
truly was in that moment.
In that moment, Lexa felt safe.
She had never felt safe in her life, and the feeling was so newfound and surprising
that for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
_I can trust her,_ Lexa thought to herself, _I really can._
She felt safe, because Clarke understood. Clarke was like she was. Clarke…Clarke
was there, Clarke wasn’t going to judge her – Clarke hadn’t judged her – and Lexa
was comfortable.
"I...no, I guess I'm not...okay. I mean I'm okay now, but I have a feeling it's
only because my parents aren't here."
"That's shit." Clarke commented. "We need to get you away from them permanently."
"I told you, I can't let you get messed up in my life. You don't have to deal with
all the shit."
"Lexa. Tell me about your life and let me decide if I can deal with all the shit.
You don't have to shield me from anything."
And, for some reason, Lexa trusted Clarke's words.
She sighed deeply and shut her eyes, allowing herself a long moment to just breathe
before she let the words she'd kept to herself for too long fall from her lips.
“My parents…they don’t care for me. I have no true value to them, they only had me
because it’s what families do – I was just a publicity stunt. And when I wasn’t a
boy…well, let’s just say father hated me the instant he saw I didn’t have a dick."
Lexa heard Clarke mutter 'fucking asshole' under her breath, and smiled slightly
before continuing.
"I…I tried to be a good daughter. I really did. I got good grades, I never got into
trouble, I never disobeyed them. And then I had boyfriends because that’s what you
do, but I never felt anything for – with - them. I tried so hard but I couldn’t,
and I thought I was broken…”
Clarke flinched when she heard that, but remained silent.
“But then I started seventh grade. And there was this girl. Her name was Costia.
She was so beautiful and smart and kind, and she…she was perfect. And that’s when I
realized I wasn’t broken, only different. I don’t know how my mother found out. I
don’t know who told them, but someone did and the next thing I knew Costia’s family
was moving and I was shipped off to boarding school in Houston.” Lexa let out a
shaky breath and forced herself to continue. She’d gotten this far. She might as
well finish. “They taught me there that what I was, was wrong. That I was an
abomination. They…they told me I was sick. So I learned to suppress this thing that
I am because it was the only way to survive, and when I graduated and went to
college to study law I did it because my parents wanted me to, and then I came back
to live with them because that's what they wanted. I wasn’t happy. I’m not sure I’m
happy now.”
Lexa paused and looked carefully at Clarke. “I’m sorry, that was a lot—“
“Don't apologize, Lexa. I asked you to tell me and you did. Besides, I’m sure you
feel much better now, having let it all out, right?”
“Yeah.” For the first time in years, Lexa took a breath and did not feel
constricted. “Thank you.”
“You’re not sick. Your parents are.”
Lexa peered at Clarke carefully, only now noticing that she was gripping the edge
of her seat with her knuckles white. The blondes’ jaw was clenched, and Lexa could
easily see that she was tense – no, she was angry, furious even.
"I seriously want to kick their ass right now." Clarke grumbled, and Lexa was
startled by how low her voice was.
"I'd rather you not."
"Why not?"
"My parents are among the best and most ruthless attorneys in the world, Clarke. I
am not going to have them imprisoning you for life for a murder attempt."
Clarke chuckled then, and Lexa couldn't help the smile that spread onto her face.
"We're gonna show them. Together."
_Together._ The word made Lexa's heart leap to her throat. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean, Lexa, is that I am going to rescue you like the princess that you are
and you're never going to have to see your parents ever again."
Clarke smirked as she saw the astonishment spread onto Lexa's face, thinking she'd
managed to elevate her mood a little bit. But then her lip quivered, and Clarke saw
her blinking back tears, and she was left staring at Lexa with no idea of what to
do. She hadn't meant to make her cry.
Lexa had wanted an escape for so long she couldn't help but stifle the sob which
rushed through her throat unannounced when she heard Clarke's words. It hurt,
knowing that someone cared enough to want to help her, and thinking she actually
had a chance of getting out terrified her to no end. She was determined not to cry,
not now, not anymore. She'd cried plenty in the past few days, and had grown sick
of it.
Clarke knew Lexa was overwhelmed. So instead of waiting for her to speak, she took
Lexa's hand into her own and gave it a little reassuring squeeze. "I promise, Lexa.
I'm not divorcing you until I'm sure you're okay."
A tear slipped down Lexa's cheek, and without even thinking, Clarke reached up and
brushed it away with her thumb. The brunette sighed and smiled gently, and leaned
her head gently against Clarke's hand. Neither of them dared to move. Lexa was
drinking in the feel of Clarke's soft hand against her cheek, the warmth and the
intimacy of it all. Clarke, on the other hand, was trying her best to ignore the
burning want in her chest which was telling – no, screaming - her to lean in and
press her lips against Lexa's.
Now was not the time.
> see? cute.

> and yes this kinda legal bullshit can actually happen to people i did my research
> i decided to post this now cause it's probably gonna be a few days before i get
to sit down and write again so i gave you tons to read so you won't wither away and
die while i'm gone
> jk i'm sure my fics arent of that great value but hey at least im having fun
> keep commenting my darlings i already told you i'm a vain person and i love the
flutters each notification causes in my chest
7. Chapter 7
> ok so i wasn't expecting to have wifi in a cabin in the middle of the woods but i
do so here you guys go
> yet again it's a long ass chapter but eh, suffer with me
> a vast number of you want to either fight or kill lexa's parents and it's kind of
hilarious to me but also awesome (I'm making you guys FEEL THINGS do you even
realize how powerful that makes me feel i'm like a god or something)
> jk i may be vain but i'm not that vain
> hope you enjoy this there are moments and it's cute and also my baby's coming
into town :):)
Clarke returned to the lodge early in the morning after Lexa had insisted she go
get some rest. She hadn’t wanted to go – she hadn’t wanted to leave Lexa all alone
in a hospital full of strangers – but Lexa had been adamant she get some actual
sleep and Clarke had finally obliged.
Even though she had only slept a few hours that night, she found she was not tired
at all. Lexa had spent most of her time sleeping, and Clarke had been drawing
again, taking short naps every few hours but not actually fully sleeping at
all. Her sketchbook was now filled to the brim with sketches of Lexa. She couldn’t
help herself. Lexa was just so beautiful and unique that Clarke felt like she _had_
to document every detail about her, every little quirk and freckle, every inch of
her entire existence - it would have been a disgrace if she didn’t. In a sense, she
was trying to document everything about Lexa because she somehow felt like she had
limited time with her; after all, they were getting a divorce.
She had to constantly remind herself that this was a woman who she could not get
attached to. She had known Lexa for barely any time at all. They were getting a
divorce. They would get a divorce, and they would never see each other ever again.
That was how this was going to go. That was how Clarke had decided this would go
when she'd gotten on the plane to Polis.
But things had changed. Lexa hadn't been the prissy rich bitch she had imagined,
Lexa hadn't been the hideous straight girl she'd expected, and Clarke was finding
herself thoroughly enjoying her company. She liked Lexa, that much she could see,
and she certainly wasn't going to just leave her now that she'd learned the truth
about her parents. She couldn't quite fathom the burning rage that had grown within
her when she'd heard about Lexa's abuse, or the almost incessant need she now felt
to protect the brunette. She wanted Lexa to be okay. She wanted Lexa to be happy.
_She wanted Lexa to be happy with her._
Clarke shook her head and sighed. That wasn't going to happen. No one could be
happy with her, that much had become clear from all of her numerous gloriously
failed relationships. She wasn't the marrying type. She wasn't a girl who could
make someone happy.
Clarke took her sketchbook and watercolors and headed outside into the sunny autumn
morning with an intent to paint. The nature right outside was just so beautiful
that she had to, and there was way too much on her mind for her to be cooped up
inside with nothing to do.
She had to do something to get her mind off of the brunette whose face occupied far
too many pages from the sketchbook in her hand.
She found a bench placed along the eastern side of the lodge, which was basking in
the sunlight and faced the lake so perfectly it was as though it was made for her
to sit on and paint. The lake was as still as a mirror, and the pale autumn sun
glinted off of it in the most heavenly of ways; there was no wind, not a cloud in
the sky, and Clarke couldn't believe that this was a real place and that she was
actually there. It all felt somehow surreal and dream-like, as though she were to
wake up any second to her alarm to find herself back in New York with Finn still
sleeping on his side of the bed with his back to her. But this wasn't a dream, nor
was it a nightmare – this was reality and for the first time in a long time, Clarke
found herself content in the present moment.
About half an hour into her painting, her phone buzzed next to her on the bench.
**Raven (06:41)**
_Where r my pics_ _?_ _??_
**Clarke (06:42)**
_Hold on._
**Clarke (06:54)**
_16_ _attachements_
_Go crazy_ _._
**Raven (06:57)**
_Damn it’s a fucking palace._ _Fuck you and your perfect life._
_Nice drawings._
_She’s seriously hot._
_If you divorce her I might marry her._ _I’m not even kidding._ _She's like a
fucking model._
**Clarke (** **06:58)**
_Can I call you?_
There was no response. A second later, Clarke’s phone rang, and she picked it up
immediately.
“Damn, Griffin, you found yourself a hot heiress. And here I thought your life had
hit rock bottom. Clearly, you hit diamond bottom inste-”
“Shut up, Raven, I have a problem.”
“Which is?”
“She’s _stunning_ , Raven, like I only showed you one or two drawings but I’ve got
six pages full of sketches of her stupid beautiful face.”
“How about her personality? Is she a prissy little bitch?”
“No.”
“What’s she like?”
“Adorable. Smart. So kind it's actually ridiculous. Guarded as fuck, but that might
be because her parents are homophobic dicks. Oh and did I mention she's
fucking beautiful?”
“Oh shit, Clarke. Are you falling for her?”
“It’s been like three days, Raven.”
“That’s not answering my question.”
Clarke paused and fixed her eyes on the still lake before her.
She could feel a connection with Lexa, something she could not fathom or explain.
She knew she liked Lexa and that she wanted nothing more than to get to know her.
There had to be a reason why they’d gotten married, and even though neither of them
could recall it at the current moment, it was still there. She just had to find it.
Something had happened in Vegas that had led to the two of them to making some form
of connection. And whatever that connection was, it had been strong enough to get
Clarke to _marry_ her.
“Clarke?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been quiet for like a thousand years. Spill your guts or I’m going to have
to fly over there to shove vodka down your throat again.”
“I don’t know, Raven.”
“It’s a simple yes or no question. Are you falling for her?”
Clarke knew there was something about Lexa, something she had never felt before
with anyone. The butterflies hadn’t left like she had hoped – no, if anything, they
had increased tenfold. She was gravitating towards this woman and she did not know
why or how to stop it, and she realized now that she really did not mind.
She didn't want it to stop.
“Yes,” she finally sighed, “I’m falling for her.”
"So no divorce?"
"Not for now, but later."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that the second I'm sure that she's away from her abusive parents and
fully within her own legal rights, we're filing for divorce."
“Why? What if she’s falling for you too?”
“Raven, her parents are literally Satan reincarnated. From what she told me, I
gather they’re going to destroy my life and everything I love the instant they find
I’ve wifed their daughter.”
Raven let out a whistle. “Well, that’s scary. But what's that got to do with her
wanting a divorce, if you're getting her away from them?”
“She wants the divorce.”
“You can't know that."
"Pretty sure I do."
"Doesn’t mean she’s not attracted to you.”
“She's not.”
“Is she blind?” Raven scoffed. “Wait no, that's not an excuse since you have a
stellar personality. Is she straight?”
“No, she’s gay. That much she told me.”
“See? Clarke, you bet your bisexual ass this divorce isn’t going to happen. Any
woman who manages to bed and wed my best friend has to be a force to be reckoned
with. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Meet? Wait, what?”
“You said six months, right? I’m coming there.”
“What!?”
“Clarke, you’re going to lose your mind if you live alone in the middle of fucking
nowhere for six months. I’ve negotiated for a few weeks off with my manager,
starting the day after tomorrow. I’ll drive over.”
“Raven, that’s like a four day drive.”
“So? I’ve never been to North Dakota before. Maybe I’ll pop over to see Mt.
Rushmore.”
“That’s South Dakota, Raven.”
“So I'll make a little detour. I've never been to Canada either. Maybe I'll go lick
a maple tree or try to mount a Mountie."
"Raven, what are you doing?"
"I'm coming to Washington."
"Yes, but why?"
"Clarke, I’m coming whether you like it or not.”
“Why?”
“You’re my best friend, that’s why.”
“There’s some other reason, Raven, I know there is.”
Raven sighed on the other end. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“Spill your guts, Raven.” Clarke said in a mocking tone. “What happened?”
Another sigh.
"Wick dumped me.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah. It just…it wasn’t working out.”
Clarke felt a pang of sympathy for her friend. Raven had really liked Wick, that
much Clarke could see – he was as interested in mechanics and engineering like she
was, and they shared the same interests and even loved Star Wars to an equal
extent. He had seemed to like Raven a lot, too.
“What happened, Raven?”
“His ex came back into town. She…she said she wanted to try again and he left me
for her.”
“Asshole. Want me to murder him? Or her? Both?”
“No. I just want to get away for a while.”
“Ok. You’re more than welcome here.”
“You sure? I don’t want to drive across the country just to find I don’t have a
place to stay.”
“I’m her wife, I think I can demand accommodation for a friend.”

* * *
Around midday Clarke’s exhaustion caught up with her, and she crawled into bed
thinking she’d take a quick nap before she’d head back to the hospital. But when
she woke up again, it was 1am, and far too late to go to the hospital. She groaned
and turned to her side, deciding she’d go first thing in the morning, and fell back
asleep.
She woke up again at five when the sun rose and blasted it’s fiery rays through the
glass windows, which Clarke had forgotten to pull the curtains over yet again. She
soon realized there was no point in going back to sleep, and so she stumbled out
of bed and into the bathroom, where she promptly shed all of her clothes before
stepping into the shower.
It wasn’t until her hair was already wet that she realized that there was no soap
or shampoo in the shower. With a loud groan, she turned off the water and grabbed a
towel – which, by the way, was the softest towel she’d ever felt in her life –
wrapped it around herself and wandered out into the hall in search of the master
bedroom.
“I should just take them to my shower until she gets back.” Clarke muttered as she
made her way down the hall, leaving wet footprints onto the wooden floors. Next to
the door she'd discovered was Lexa's bathroom door, she noticed a door which looked
larger than the rest. Not thinking any more of it, Clarke opened it and stepped
into what was quite obviously Lexa's bedroom.
She smelled the same perfume she’d smelled on the jacket, lingering faintly in the
air, and for a moment she stood in the doorway, taking in the sight. It was about
the same size as her own, perhaps a bit bigger, but it somehow felt smaller and far
cozier. The bed was set much like Clarke’s was, in front of the floor-to-ceiling
windows, facing the outdoors. The sheets on it were a dark red, and there were faux
fur rugs on each side. Clarke noticed there was a book on the nightstand, set face-
down as though Lexa had just gotten up moments ago and left it there. She made a
mental note to take it with her when she returned to the hospital; she figured
there wasn’t much to do in the sterile white room and it’s surroundings, especially
when one was confined to a bed.
Compared to the design furniture that filled the rest of the house, the furniture
in the bedroom was somehow way more…worn out. Casual, even. Clarke was sure at
least half of the items were from thrift stores and flea markets, because none of
them matched and yet somehow, they did. This room was quite clearly Lexa’s, that
much Clarke could tell – it had her own touch, like it was her own little kingdom.
Realizing she was dripping water onto Lexa's fine hardwood floor, Clarke snapped
out of her daze and padded over to the bathroom. It felt like she was intruding –
this was Lexa’s room, and these were Lexa’s things – but she needed to wash her
hair and Clarke was nothing if not objective.
There was a rain shower in the bathroom, much like in her own, as well as a bathtub
which was more like a small pool. Clarke quickly snatched what she needed from the
shower before skittering her way back to her own room.
When she came down the stairs about half an hour later, her hair still damp despite
her efforts with a dryer, she found Edwards waiting for her.
“I’d like to go to the hospital, Edwards.” Clarke said, trying her best to be as
polite as possible. She couldn’t imagine addressing him in a casual way – she half
expected him to speak with a British accent.
“Would you like some breakfast first?”
Clarke shrugged. “I think I’ll just have a coffee and a sandwich, if that’s okay.”
“Would you like me to make them?”
“No, thank you. Is it alright if I take the car?”
* * *
Lexa had been disappointed when she hadn’t seen Clarke at all the day before. She
had cursed herself for that, been angry for wanting to see the blonde, and had
decided then that she wouldn’t let herself feel for the blonde again. They were
getting a divorce and she would probably never see Clarke ever again after that.
She had been so determined to not feel anything.
But then Clarke walked into her hospital room the next morning, her hair still damp
and still wearing Lexa’s jacket, and she forgot about anything else other than the
fact that she was overjoyed to see her.
_Fuck_.
“How are you?” Clarke asked carefully. “Sleep well?”
Lexa shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I'm bored.”
"Here." Clarke reached into her bag and pulled out the book she'd taken from Lexa's
bedside table. "I saw it in your room and figured you'd need something to entertain
yourself. Don't worry, I put a bookmark in it for you."
Lexa smiled and placed the book onto the table next to her. "Thank you."
“You’ll get out soon enough, I think. You can walk, right?”
Lexa nodded. “Technically. They told me they’ll let me out on Saturday.”
“Four more days.” Clarke nodded. "Hey, can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure?"
“Is it okay if a friend of mine comes and stays with me at the lodge?”
Lexa blinked. “Uh, yeah? I guess.”
“Good. Cause she’s coming whether you let her or not.”
Lexa nodded slowly. She herself didn't have many friends; her parents did not allow
her to have any female friends in fear of her giving into her 'urges' and male
friends were also off limits because of the rumors they'd set off in their tight-
knit community of upper class bankers and lawyers. The only people her own age
she'd been allowed to see had been the numerous young men who her parents had
deemed suitable matches for her, and even those meetings had taken place under
their watchful eye.
She'd hated every single one of them on sight.
She did have Anya. Anya was her friend.
But Anya wasn’t here.
When Clarke sat down into the chair next to her bed, Lexa caught a whiff of her
shampoo and her shower gel on Clarke, but said nothing about it. She watched as
Clarke pulled out her sketchbook again, and felt disappointed when she realized the
blonde wasn’t going to talk to her.
But then the sketchbook was placed into her hands and she looked down to see a
beautiful watercolor painting of the lake right outside her lodge.
“I figured you haven’t seen what it’s like outside today. I painted this yesterday,
but it’s just like that today too.” Clarke explained, her eyes shining proudly as
she noticed Lexa's eyes widen in awe.
Lexa ran her finger along the paper and smiled. “It's beautiful. You’re clearly
talented.”
“Tell that to the hundreds of galleries who have rejected my work.”
“They’re clearly blind.”
Clarke wasn’t so sure why she enjoyed the brunette’s smile so. All she knew was
that she wanted to keep seeing it.
“You can have it, if you want. The painting, I mean.”
“Really?”
“If you want.”
“I’d love to.”
Clarke took the sketchbook from her and carefully tore the piece of paper off,
slowly so as to not tear it. When she placed it into Lexa’s hands, their fingers
touched for the slightest moment, and electricity ran through their veins from
where their skin had grazed the other.
Clarke felt a flutter in her chest again, and smiled, causing fireworks to erupt
inside Lexa's mind.
_Damnit, does she have to be so perfect?_
"You know, I'm starting to think the universe has a personal vendetta against the
two of us."
Lexa was surprised when a fit of laughter spilled from her own lips; she clamped
her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide from shock, only to cause Clarke to laugh at
the sight of her embarrassment.
"Don't be embarrassed to laugh. It's nice to hear. Too much depressing shit lately,
right?"
To that, Lexa had no response. She wished she did; she wished she was adept at
casual conversation, not just the stiff small talk which she had perfected herself
in to survive the thousands of benefits and dinners she’d attended. She wished she
could talk with the confidence and fluency that Clarke exhibited, that she could
come up with a nice, non-depressing topic for the two of them to discuss. But they
were so different, and they had nothing in common.
Other than the fact that they were married to each other, that is.
“So, Lexa. What do you do in your spare time?”
Lexa stared at Clarke for a while. The blonde was acting as though she could read
her mind, which she knew wasn't possible and yet she was still left wondering. It
was just baffling how at ease Clarke was able to set her with just a few words.
“I don’t really know. I read. I do yoga…I like just walking around and wandering in
the woods.”
“How about when you’re in Bridgeport?”
“I don’t really know.” Lexa sighed. “I guess I spend a lot of time on the computer,
when I’m not attending some PR meeting or a benefit…”
“Any rich bitch friends?”
Lexa flinched slightly at Clarke’s words, and suddenly felt the blonde’s hand on
her arm. “I don’t mean that you’re a rich bitch. You may be rich but you’re
certainly not a bitch, you get me?”
The brunette nodded, and Clarke smiled gently. She did not withdraw her hand, and
Lexa found that she did not want her to. In fact, Clarke shuffled her chair closer
to the bed and moved her hand to hold Lexa's. It was a supportive gesture, one
meant to make Lexa feel relaxed and more at ease, and it certainly achieved it's
goal. Of course, Clarke refused to admit that it made herself feel incredibly good
and at ease. After all, Clarke Griffin wasn't someone who held hands in the
romantic sense.
Right?
“I guess I don’t really have any friends. My parents…they don’t really let me see
anyone.” Lexa answered quietly.
“That’s shitty.”
“There’s Anya, but she’s in Senegal right now, so…”
“That’s awesome. Has she been there long?”
“Eleven months.”
“Is she coming back soon?”
“Yeah, she’s coming back in a few weeks.” Lexa smiled.
There was a long awkward silence as the two of them tried to think of something to
say.
“Would you like to call her?”

“Who?”
“Anya.”
Lexa stared at Clarke. “Actually, yeah.”
Clarke handed her phone over to Lexa. “Here. There’s no pass code. I’ll go try and
see if they have something actually edible available here. You want anything?”
Lexa was still staring at her, the phone in her hand. “Uh…a cup of tea would be
nice.”
Clarke nodded as she stood up. “One cup of tea coming right up.”
Lexa couldn’t tear her eyes away from Clarke’s disappearing form until she could no
longer see her. She then turned her attention to the phone in her hand, which
clearly had seen better days; one of it’s corners was smashed and taped over, and
the neon green case was cracked. Just as she was about to dial Anya’s number, the
phone rang and Lexa panicked for a fleeting second before answering.
Before she could even speak, the woman on the other end spoke.
“I’ve thought about this very deeply and I’ve come to the uncontestable conclusion
that you’re definitely falling in love with your wife.”
“Uh, hello?”
“Wait, this isn’t Clarke. Who is this? What have you done to Clarke?”
“This is Lexa.”
“Lexa?”
“Her…um…the wife?”
Lexa heard the other speaker groan. “Oh, god, I’m such a genius…ah fuck.” Lexa was
sure she heard the unmistakable thud of a head colliding with a wall. Repeatedly.
“I’m sorry, who is this? Do you want to leave a message for Clarke?”
The speaker ignored her questions and instead asked her own. “Why do you have her
phone?”
“She gave it to me so I could make a phone call. You just happened to call just
when I was about to dial.”
There was a deep sigh from the other end and another thud. Lexa hoped whoever the
speaker was wasn't hurting themselves too much. “Shit. This is so not the way I
wanted my first meeting with you to go.”
“You want to meet me?”
“I’m coming there. Clarke told you, right?”
“Yes, I just didn’t realize you’d want to meet me.”
“Why wouldn't I? You managed to turn Clarke Griffin into an honest woman. You’re my
fucking hero.”
Lexa had no idea how to conduct herself in conversation with this snarky woman, who
swore like a sailor and spoke faster than anyone she’d ever heard before. It was
uncanny to say the least how casual their conversation was and how well it was
flowing.
“You still there?”
“Yes?”
“Where’s Clarke?”
“She’s getting food.”
“She’s getting food for you?”
“She’s getting me tea.”
“Oh my god. You’re officially my hero. Forever. Please don’t tell me you want to
divorce her.”
“Uh…”
“I don’t know if Clarke told you this but she claims to be the non-marryable type,
which I _know_ is a lie and the fact that she drunkenly married you in Vegas just
proves it. She’s insufferable and annoying and probably a whiny pain in the ass,
but let me tell you, she’s totally worth it. And from what I’ve heard, she likes
you. Like, really likes you. And I’m only telling you because she’s too stubborn to
tell you herself and I’m not about to let the greatest love story of the century go
down the drain because Griffin was an idiot.”
“She doesn’t like me-”
“Trust me, she does. Is her sketchbook around?”
Lexa glanced at the chair and saw the black book there, neatly placed next to
Clarke's bag. “Yes?”
“Ok, take it and flip through.”
“I can’t do that. It's private.”
“Just do it. You’re her wife.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are now take that book and look inside or so help me I’ll tell Clarke
you’re hopelessly in love with her and that you want to have her babies.”
Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat, and Raven gasped on the other end. She’d meant
it as a joking threat, but the other woman’s inability to breathe and complete
silence told her that her words had hit a sore spot of some sort.
“Oh my god, you like her.”
“No I don’t.” Lexa tried to deny, but her voice betrayed her.
“You’re lying. Why are you lying?”
Lexa had finally managed to maneuver the sketchbook into her lap, and was trying to
hold the phone to her ear with her shoulder while flipping through the pages with
her one good hand. It felt like a gross violation of Clarke’s privacy, going
through the pages, and she didn’t understand why her friend had insisted she do it…
until she turned a page and came face to face with her own…face.
“Hey, you. Are you still there?”
“Why is my face in her sketchbook?”
“Turn a few more pages.”
Lexa did as told, and found several more sketches of herself – not just her face,
but details like her ears or her hand or her shoulder or chin. There were many of
her eyes, and she couldn’t help but notice how detailed they all were. It was
almost as though she were looking at photographs instead of sketches.
“Now you get what I mean?”
“So she’s drawn me. So what?”
“Clarke only draws people once. She says it bores her to repeat the same thing over
and over again. She’s only got a few recurring models, myself included. And now,
you.”
“You…no, that’s not right.”
“Think about it. She’s spending a lot of time with you. If she didn’t like you, do
you think Clarke would be voluntarily sitting in a hospital room for hours on end?
She’s not exactly the type to be pent up in cramped spaces, especially with
strangers.”
Lexa chewed her lip. “We still have to get a divorce.”
“Why? You like her. She likes you. At least give it a chance.”
“You’re annoying.” Lexa decided. “And besides, I _can’t_ be married to a woman.”
“Are you straight?”
“No.” The ease with which the word left Lexa’s mouth left her breathless. She had
never thought it could be this easy.
“Then what’s the problem? Clarke’s gorgeous and has a heart of gold.”
“I…that’s none of your business.” Lexa snapped. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I had an
actual call that I wanted to make.”
“Right. Well, send your wife my regards. Tell her I call dibs on your firstborn.”
Lexa rolled her eyes, expecting her to say goodbye or something. Instead, the call
was hung up, and for a moment she remained there, staring at the now empty phone
screen.
“What the fuck…”
She then became aware that she still had Clarke’s sketchbook in her hand. Quickly
as she could, she put it back onto the chair, praying Clarke would never find out
she took a peek. It was private, after all, no matter how many sketches of Lexa's
face she had drawn on those pages.
She took the phone into her hand again and dialed Anya’s number, which was the only
number she remembered besides her own. Anxiety washed over her as she waited for
the call to go through – she knew Anya should be still awake at this hour, most
likely already done with her rounds for the day as well. There was no reason she
wouldn’t pick up. But that didn't mean she wasn't nervous.
“Hello?”
“Anya?”
“Lexa? What number is this?”
“I’m borrowing a friend's phone.”
“It’s been four days! You haven’t replied to any of my messages, are you okay?”
Lexa sighed. “I’m…no, not really. I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“I kinda got into a car accident.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to you? Like, physically. It’ll soothe me to hear your actual
diagnosis.”
“Uh…my left arm and wrist are broken, and a few of my ribs too. There was a piece
of metal that sort of impaled my chest and punctured the….punctured some kind of
sac, but it didn’t hit any vital organs so I’ll be fine…and then there was some
free fluid in my abdomen so they operated to stop the internal bleeding.”
“No concussion?”
“Yeah, but only a minor one and that passed.”
“How did it happen?”
“I…I’m so sorry, Anya, I had a bad night. I was drinking, I--”
“Lexa…you could’ve called me.”
“I know. I just…anyway, I went driving and this car crashed into me head-on but it
wasn’t my fault. I was drunk but it wasn’t my fault.”
_It wasn't my fault._ Lexa had been repeating those words to herself over and over
again like a mantra. It felt like it should be her fault. But it wasn't.
"And they didn't charge you with anything? Like a DUI or whatever?"
"No, Gustus apparently threatened to sue the whole Polis police department for
slander and god knows what, and since my record was clean they dropped the
charges."
"Well, that's good." Anya breathed a relieved sigh. “How are you doing?”
“I’m…fine, I guess. There’s something more important that I need to talk about,
actually.”
“What can be more pressing than a car crash?”
“I have a wife.”
Lexa counted the seconds that it took for the words to sink in and for Anya to
react on the other end.
It took six.
“What!?”
“I have a wife.” Lexa repeated, feeling a warmth spread through her body when the
words left her mouth. _I have a wife._
“What the fuck, Lexa, you better not be joking—“
“Remember that time I went to Vegas in February?”
“You never told me what happened.”
“That’s because I couldn’t remember.”
“And now you do?”
“Not really.”
“Then what—“
“I got married in Vegas. On the 17th. The hospital found her somehow and called
her to come here and be my legal guardian since my parents are unavailable and I
just met her four days ago.”
“Holy shit. “ Anya was silent for a long while. “What's her name?”
“Clarke.”
“What’s her last name?”
Lexa faltered. It was something with a G, she was sure of it. “Griffin,” she
finally remembered.
“Griffin?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit, Lexa. Is her mom’s name Abby by any chance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is her mom a doctor?”
“Yes?”
“Lexa your wife is my boss’s daughter.” Anya said, disbelief evident in her voice.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe this. You're Abby's daughter-in-law.”
"Don't tell her. I don't think Clarke wants her to know yet. Or at all, I don't
know."
"Of course not. I'm just saying this is the most ridiculous coincidence of all
time." There was a second of silence. “Wait, what about your parents?”
Lexa groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“They don’t know?”
“They’re in the Bahamas for at least 20 more days with no connection to the outside
world. So no, not yet.”
“You’re fucked. She’s fucked. Your parents are going to murder you when they find
out.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do? You can’t go anywhere, not when you’re legally
incapacitated or whatever the fuck it is they did—“
“Actually, I have a way out now.”
“Clarke. A spouse is higher in the hierarchy of next of kin than a parent.”
“She can override your parents?”
“In theory, yes.”
“That’s amazing, Lexa. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Is she cute?”
Lexa sighed. “She’s breathtaking, Anya.”
“Really?”
“I…she’s so beautiful. She’s got this gorgeous blonde hair and the bluest eyes
you’ll ever see, and such beautiful features…and she’s so funny and nice and cute
and she’s an amazing artist, too…”
“Sounds like you chose well.”
“I have to divorce her, though.”
“Are you sure you want that?”
“I’m pretty sure she wants that. She’s not the marrying type. She said that
herself.”
“You know that’s a lie people say when their hearts have been broken one too many
times, right?”
Lexa paused. No, she didn’t. Not until now, that is.
“Really?”
“God, you really are oblivious. Yes. Now tell me everything about her.”
And Lexa did. She hadn’t even realized she was memorizing everything about Clarke
until she found she had talked about her for almost ten minutes straight without
pause or falter in her stream of words. She paused then, and waited for Anya’s
response.
“Lexa. You will not divorce this girl.”
“Why not?”
“Not until I’ve met her. I _have_ to meet her. You’re obviously falling for her,
and I’ve never seen you fall this hard for _anyone_. Not to mention she sounds
perfect for you.”
“We got married on a whim in Vegas.”
“So?”
“It’s not romantic. It’s just pathetic.”
“It’s not pathetic and you know it.”
“Fine, so what if it’s probably the best mistake I’ve made in my life?” Lexa
groaned. “She wants the divorce and I’m not about to trap her into my life. You
know how shit it is.”
“Yeah. But you could leave, now that she can free you from your parents.”
“Where would I go? They’d disown me the second they found out I was married to a
woman with no intention of divorce.”
“You could live with me.”
“They know where you live and work. I won’t have them ruining your reputation like
they did to Marissa, and you know that.”
“At least think about it? Maybe you can figure out a reasonable solution. Just
don’t rush into anything, ok?”
“I already rushed into a marriage, Anya. What more can I possibly screw up?”
“I have to go. Your mother-in-law is calling me.”
“I miss you.”
“Two more weeks."
"Bye."
"Bye. Have fun being married."
> Anya's cool also who's hyped to see Abby react to Clarke's Vegas-marriage? I sure
am.
> i'm pretty convinced something fantastic is going to happen in the next chapters
so keep reading my darlings
> oh and i'm always a slut for kudos and comments, and don't forget to share this
with your fellow clexakru friends
8. Chapter 8
> pre-gaming hard for tonight's episode i'll probably DIE

> clarke's such a dork and also i'm entirely in love with their chemistry its just
working so well
> if you kids wanna stalk me i'm on tumblr @clexy-polarbear, don't be afraid to
come say hi
Clarke was standing outside the door with two cups lukewarm tea in her hand and a
plastic-wrapped muffin held between her teeth. She had been standing there for at
least ten minutes now, looking like an idiot and waiting for Lexa to finish up her
call. She’d almost barged in, but had stopped dead in her tracks when she’d heard
Lexa say something that had caused the blood in her veins to freeze for just the
slightest moment.
She couldn’t help the fact that the walls were thin, or the fact that her hearing
seemed to have risen to superhuman heights. And she certainly couldn’t help the
fact that she was blushing vigorously after hearing what Lexa had said.
_She’s breathtaking._
Clarke had heard her fair share of compliments. She knew she was beautiful and cute
and funny and smart. She had known it herself and had also heard it from a
multitude of lovers over the years. She did not need anyone else to say them to
her, not when she had the confidence from within to know that she was great.
But never in her life had anyone said that she was breathtaking.
And the fact that the person who had said it was _Lexa_ just made it all way too
overwhelming for her little heart to handle.
And so she was left standing outside the door, stunned, with her heart racing a
thousand miles an hour while she tried to calm down the surging heat in her cheeks.
Which, of course, did not work.
When she finally heard the word ‘goodbye’, Clarke came to the realization that she
was still blushing red as a tomato. She rushed to the nearby bathroom and quickly
splashed cold water at her face, hoping it would tone down the redness.
"Come on, Clarke, just tone it down. You can tone it down." She muttered to herself
as she dabbed at her neck and cheeks with a cold wet towel. It only worked a
little, but even a little was better than nothing at all.
When she stepped into the room, she noticed Lexa jump slightly as though she were
surprised.
“Hey. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Clarke asked gently after she'd made
her way to her seat and handed Lexa a cup.
“No. I just finished up the call. Thanks for lending me your phone.”
Clarke took a sip from her cup and grimaced when she noticed the tea was barely
warm. “Sorry about the tea, I swear it was hot when I left the café but I got lost
on my way here.”
Lexa smiled. “It’s fine. I like my tea cold anyways.”
For a while, they sat in silence. But somehow the silence between them was no
longer uncomfortable, but rather comforting and calm.
“Your friend called.” Lexa said after a while.
“Who?”
“Didn’t catch her name.”
“Did she talk fast and swear a lot?”
“Yeah.”
“Probably Raven. She’s the one who’s coming here.” Clarke explained. “What’d she
say?”
Clarke saw now a pink hue gather onto Lexa’s cheeks and noticed her purse her lips
tightly shut. They had definitely had a conversation, and Clarke just knew it had
been about herself. What Raven had said, however, was left unknown to her when Lexa
shrugged and said: “Nothing much. Something about calling you later. Sending you
her regards.”
Clarke nodded. She’d call Raven later and demand she tell her what they talked
about on pain of death.
“And she claimed our firstborn child. Whatever that means.” Lexa muttered into her
cup. Clarke chuckled and laid back in her chair.
“That’s Raven for you. She’s inappropriate and annoying. You don’t have to take
anything she says seriously.”
Lexa nodded slowly. There was a lot on her mind; not one, but two people had told
her not to divorce the blonde before in less than an hour. She wasn’t so sure what
to do anymore.
There was also her conversation with Clarke’s friend, Raven.
Or, to be more precise, what Raven had said when she’d picked up the phone.
** _“I’ve thought about this very deeply and I’ve come to the uncontestable
conclusion that you’re definitely falling in love with your wife.”_**
There wasn’t much left for interpretation in what Raven had said. According to
those words, Clarke was falling for her – for Lexa – and Lexa had no idea what she
thought about it.
There just was something about Clarke which Lexa couldn’t quite place. Something
that made her feel at ease when she was in the room, something which made each word
that they exchanged feel fluid like water, without any weight or hidden thoughts
behind them. Lexa had never trusted anyone in her life, but somehow she trusted
Clarke. Clarke was like the first breath of fresh air after being submerged for
what now felt like all of her life. Clarke was Clarke.
And then there was the fact that according to Clarke’s best friend, Clarke was
quickly falling in love with her.
_Maybe we won’t get a divorce._
Lexa shrugged to herself and turned to her side. They had fallen silent, and Clarke
had just taken her sketchbook and begun drawing again. Lexa wondered if she was
drawing her. After a while, it became evident that Clarke was – even with her eyes
fixed at the ceiling, Lexa could feel her eyes darting up from the paper to her
face every now and then. She tried her best not to move and to not give away the
fact that she was aware of Clarke’s attention, but that just made her tense.
“Just in case you didn’t know, I’m drawing you.”
Lexa glanced at Clarke, completely dumbfounded. “Really?”
“I saw you noticed. Figured I’d say something to make it less awkward.”
“Why are you drawing me?”
Clarke shrugged, suddenly shy. “I don’t know. You’ve got a nice facial structure.”
_Wow, smooth_ , Clarke thought to herself. Lexa just smiled.
“Can I move?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Lexa shifted slightly to ease the throbbing dull pain in her shoulder. Without even
realizing, she grimaced, and instantly saw concern pass over the light blue of
Clarke’s eyes.
“Are you in pain?”
Clarke’s voice was soft and gentle, and Lexa realized now that she loved the sound
of her voice. It was melodic and always somehow careful, so different from the
harsh, sharp voices of her parents. Her parents always demanded something from her,
and it showed in their voices. Clarke was yet to demand anything from her. She only
requested and asked, and even that she did so gently and carefully it was no bother
at all to Lexa. She was not used to being treated like this.
She wasn’t too used to being treated kindly.
“Lexa?”
Lexa shifted again and shook her head. “Not really. It’s just uncomfortable.”
“I can ask for a nurse to up your pain medication.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
Lexa chewed her lip. “I…”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Clarke said quickly, her voice
still gentle.
“I don't like how they make my head feel. I'd like to have my mind be clear
again."
"You want off them completely?"
"Yeah."
"I'll go ask."
* * *
As it turns out, Lexa Woods was a very stubborn person when it came to pain. It had
been four hours since the meds had been stopped completely, and Clarke could see
that she was in a lot of pain. Perhaps not enough to die, but enough to not be
comfortable. But the brunette refused to admit it.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Lexa gritted her teeth. Her stomach and ribs and arm and chest hurt, but this pain
was far better than the dull throbbing pain she’d dealt with for the past two days.
This kind of pain was real pain, and she knew she could handle it.
She’d had worse.
“I’m fine.” She muttered.
“You’re in pain.”
“No shit.”
“I’m not going to ask you to take the pain meds.” Clarke said. “But how about some
to help you sleep?”
Lexa clenched her jaw. “I’m fine, Clarke.”
“You’re not comfortable.”
“I had a piece of metal extracted from my chest less than 48 hours ago. The fact
that I’m still alive is more than enough for me.”
“Fair point.”
“Besides, my head’s actually clear for the first time in days and I don’t want my
mind clouded over again.”
Clarke nodded understandingly. “You seemed perfectly fine.”
“I tried my best but it’s hard to sound normal when your head feels like it’s
floating in the ceiling.”
“Well, welcome to the world of sobriety, Lexa, where pain is real and people are
crap.”
“You still want me to take the meds, don’t you?”
“It’s not exactly fun watching someone else groan and grunt in pain.”
“Well, excuse me for being the patient here.” Lexa quipped. Clarke looked at her,
astonished.
“You sounded exactly like Raven.”
“Did I?”
“Her sarcasm is contagious.” Clarke said with a smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps
you’re not as cool and collected as you’d like to make yourself appear.”
“The only reason I’m cool and collected is because that’s what I’ve been told to be
for 23 years.” Lexa grunted as she tried to get up into a sitting position. “I
assure you, I’m a much nicer person than the person my parents introduce to
everyone as their daughter.”
“So there’s a difference between Lexa and Alexandria.” Clarke smiled.
Lexa winced upon hearing her full name, and Clarke’s brows furrowed in concern.
“Did I say something?”
“Don’t…don’t say my name.”
“You’ve been fine with it until now—“
“I mean my full name. I don’t…don’t say it. It’s not me. I hate it. Alexandria is
who my parents want me to be.”
“And Lexa is who you are.” Clarke nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t
know.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“True, but I’m still sorry.”
Lexa sighed and tried to relax. “I want to go home.”
“Of course you do.”
“How long are they keeping me here again?”
“Four more days.”
“Wasn’t it four yesterday?”
“Yeah but they added a day. Some sort of insurance. They don’t want you going home
too soon and dying because your stitches rip or something.”
“How is one day going to change anything?”
“I don’t know. Hospital policy is all they said.” Clarke sighed. “But don’t worry,
I’ll come by every day.”
“I’m counting on it.”
* * *
"Ok, Raven, spill. What the fuck did you say to Lexa?"
"Lexa? Why do you think I said anything to your wife?"
"She told me you called."
"And I was very polite and asked her to tell you to call me back."
"Cut the crap, Raven, I know you talked to her. You said something, I know because
I asked her if you said anything and she _blushed_. So either you tell me now or
you can come here to find that you'll be sleeping outside the house."
Raven groaned. "Let me get into the house first. It's raining and my hands are cold
and the key isn't working."
Clarke grumbled but waited until she heard the hiss of a beer can being opened and
the satisfied sigh of a completely relaxed Raven Reyes. "Ok, you want to tell me
now or do I have to wait until you've downed that beer?"
"Fine, fine, just keep your chill. Geez." Raven muttered. "But you have to promise
not to kill me first."
"I can't promise that."
"At least promise me my imminent death will be quick and painless, ok?"
"Fi-ine. Now spill."
"I may or may not have started the conversation by telling her that I'm sure that
you're falling for her."
"You what!?"
"And then I went and fixed the situation for you. You're welcome."
"What do you mean fixed!?"
"I told her how great you are and how you two should totally not get divorced. And
then I may or may not have told her to look inside your sketchbook because I had to
convince her that you liked her. I can't believe you managed to hide your falling
heart so well that she thought you couldn't have cared less, but anyway I fixed
that."
"Raven I'm going to kill you-"
"Wait till I finish."
"You're still going to die by my hand."
"She likes you, Clarke."
"What?"
"I made a jab about telling you that she's in love with you and I could hear her
breath _hitch_ in her throat. And when I asked her if she liked you she lied and
said no but she seriously likes you, and it's not just a schoolgirl crush this is a
full-on 'I will love her some day' crush."
"That's--"
"Not possible? As if. Clarke, you two got married for some reason, and I'm starting
to think that blackout drunk you is smarter than sober you. This girl is a godsend,
Clarke, and you're falling for her and you're already married and I will not see
you divorcing her. Nope. No way."
"Why are you so invested in my love life?"
"Because I need faith that love exists somewhere, idiot. Not to mention I think I
really like this Lexa and I won't have you driving her away from my life before I
have a chance to get to know her."
"Raven, if you want to ask her out you're more than welcome to."
"Did you just hear yourself?"
"What?"
"You might've told me that I can ask her out but your tone of voice suggests that
if I do that you'll kill me out of jealousy."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious, Clarke. Would staying married to Lexa be so bad?"
"I don't--"
"Don't tell me you don't know her, I know very damn well that you're able to figure
out an entire person's soul in the manner of hours. What did it take with me, four
hours?"
"Five."
"Fine, five hours, but still. You can't lie to yourself, Clarke. You've already
figured her out and she's not a stranger to you."
"But I'm not good for her. I can't be good for her."
"You literally declared to her that you'd protect her from her abusive parents and
stay with her until you were sure she was okay. And you've been sitting by her
bedside practically non-stop when you really don't have to. That sounds like you're
being very good to her." Raven said. Her voice was determined now, and Clarke could
hear the frustration in her voice. "Clarke, you may think you're the worst scum on
this earth but that doesn't mean you actually are, ok?"
"She deserves the world, Raven."
"You are the world, Clarke," Raven sighed, "She deserves you and you deserve her,
I've decided that this is true and it's damn well going to happen so stop being an
idiot."
"You're annoying."
"That's what your wife said."
"What?"
"See, you two even say the same things."

"Well you are very annoying." Clarke groaned. "What am I supposed to even say? Hey,
I don't want to divorce you anymore, wanna go on a date and then maybe stay married
till we drop dead?"
"Yes!"
"I can't say that. It's weird. It'll make everything awkward again."
"God, Clarke, just take the leap!"
Clarke huffed and paced around in her room. "You're _so_ incredibly annoying."
"Just take the chance. Promise me you'll at least think about it, ok? And don't go
making any executive decisions before I get there, ok?"
"When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"Call me before you leave, ok? I have some things I kinda need."
"Yeah, sure."
"I gotta go, I need to do some serious thinking."
"Sounds like you're going to do some serious drinking."
"No, I'm not. Fuck off."
"Ok. See you in hell, asshole."
"Oh just fuck off."
> clarke's an idiot but her poor little heart just doesn't know what to do
> also raven reyes is literally my baby and i will see her have happiness even if
the show won't give it to her
> also next chapter is gonna have some pretty significant revelations so get hyped
abt that :D :D
> this fic is gonna be so long it's ridiculous but my plan is epic i can't wait for
it to unravel for you guys
9. Chapter 9
> im updating from the FUCKING GRAVE cause Lexa and Clarke and Clexa killed me last
night i stg my heart stopped
> ao3 died when i was tryna upload this and i swear i thought i broke the website
by accident
> also thank you to the few of you who sent me messages on tumblr i love u
> Anyway, who's excited to FINALLY find out what happened in Vegas?
> Enjoy~
17th of February
_Clarke stumbled down the last remaining stairs of the hotel into the lobby, just
barely avoiding collision with a particularly stationary block of people. She had
been expecting to find Octavia and Raven there. But amidst the dizzying amounts of
people, she found no familiar faces, not a single one_ _, they all looked faceless
and kind of terrifying and in that moment, Clarke should have panicked. But the
countless shots of tequila were making her_ _head_ _buzz with comfort and
happiness_ _, and she felt like she needed to sit down before the whole world spun
out of control._
_She'd find her friends later._
_Clarke wasn't so sure what led her to walking out of the hotel, drunk as ever,
while the sun was still rising and the streets were full of two sorts of people –
groaning hungover wrecks and still buzzed stumbling disasters. She was certainly
one of the latter ones._
_It wasn't until she came to a blinding neon light installation in every color
known to man that she turned her steps away from the sidewalk and stepped inside a
club. Or perhaps it was a casino. Whatever it was, Clarke found her way to_ _a_
_bar and ordered herself a drink. Whiskey, dry. Whichever was cheapest._
_She could've sworn the bartender winked at her. Had she been a little less drunk,
she might've noticed the phone number that was written_ _on_ _the corner of her
napkin. But she didn't notice that, or the outstretched hand and introduction_ _of
the man to her right; no, all Clarke could see was the only other girl sitting at
the bar alone, seated right across from her._ _She was wearing a bright red form-
fitting dress_ _, her brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders in a free yet
somehow controlled fashion,_ _and her lips were painted red, too, and god, she
looked like a goddess._
_Clarke wondered what it would be like to be kissing those_ _blood red_ _lips._
_"I've got a boyfriend." She snapped to the man who was still trying to get her
attention._ _It was a lie, but it worked nevertheless._ _With an annoyed huff, he
stood up and walked away – only to go over to sit next to the brunette who Clarke
couldn't tear her eyes away from. She noticed the woman's discomfort immediately,
and saw her eyes flash in panic when she realized the man wasn't going to leave.
Clarke might've been able to scare him off, but she_ _didn't seem_ _so_ _successful
in her attempt_ _._ _Perhaps it was the fact that she was infinitely more
attractive than Clarke was._ _She couldn't get him to fuck off_ _as easily._
_But Clarke certainly could. She made her way over to the other side of the bar
and stood behind the man for the shortest moment to make sure she wasn't making a
mistake._ _She may have been drunk but she wasn't a complete idiot. Not yet,
anyway._
_"Come on,_ _gorgeous_ _, tell me your name. I'm sure you'll love me."_
_"I'm not interested." The woman's voice was_ _tense_ _, forced, and Clarke didn't
wait any longer. She didn't have to hear anything else. She reached out and tapped
the man's shoulder, throwing him a murderous glare when he turned around._
_"She said she's not interested. Now fuck off."_
_"_ _The fuck's it to you,_ _dyke?"_
_Clarke didn't flinch at the slur._ _The brunette did._ _"Fuck. Off."_
_He threw his hands up in the air and left, muttering curses and slurs as he went.
Clarke saw the brunette was incredibly relieved to see him go, and sat down next to
her._
_"Thank you."_
_"You're welcome." Clarke smiled. The woman before her was so pretty it was making
her head spin. Or maybe it was the whiskey. Or the countless shots of tequila she'd
had not an hour ago. "Are you okay?"_
_"_ _Of course_ _." The brunette's slender fingers reached for her glass of wine,
and Clarke found herself staring_ _shamelessly_ _as her_ _mouth_ _touched the rim
of glass and the liquid_ _slid_ _in between those wonderfully_ _red_ _lips. She
couldn't help but notice the two empty shot glasses on the table before her.
Clearly she wasn't the only one who was drunk or trying to get there._
_"I'm Clarke." Clarke finally managed to stammer._
_The brunette acknowledged her with a sparkling smile which made Clarke's stomach
churn._ _"Lexa."_
_"Looks like I'm not the only one here for a party," Clarke commented. "Unless you
have another stellar reason to be drinking this early in the morning."_
_"I'm...getting there, let's just say that." The brunette smiled, nodding at the
two empty shot glasses._ "No party."
_"Are you here alone, Lexa?"_
_The brunette set her glass down and placed her hands atop one another on the bar.
Yet again, Clarke couldn't help but_ _stare at the slender hands and the tanned
skin of her body as she ran her eyes up along her arms and to her shoulders and
back to her face._
_"Yes."_
_"How come?"_
_Lexa shrugged. "No particular reason."_
_Clarke leaned against the bar and offered her a smile. "I'm here for a
bachelorette party. Day 3, going strong."_
_The brunette laughed then, a beautiful, melodic laugh which sounded like bells
chiming and birds singing, and Clarke could've sworn she felt her heart flutter in
her chest._
_"Sounds like you're having fun."_
_"I lost my friends, though."_
_"How?"_
_"They just went...poof."_
_"That's not good."_
_"It's alright. I found you. You seem like fun."_

** _Fun._**
_Clarke watched as the goddess –_ _Lexa_ _, her name was Lexa – tried to figure
out something to say in response. When she didn't, she chuckled and took a long sip
of her wine before finally saying:_
_"Well, Clarke, I suppose I am."_
_The way her tongue rolled over the r in her name and left the last syllable
hanging made Clarke feel drunk._
_Or drunker._
_"I'd offer you a drink but it seems you already have one."_ _She continued. She
didn't want to stop talking to this woman._ _She wanted to know everything about
her. She wanted to never have to leave her._
_"You seem to be done with yours."_
_Clarke glanced at her now empty whisky glass and shrugged. "Eh. It was gross so I
had to down it quickly. Shots or nothing, right?"_
_Lexa laughed again and shook_ _her head, causing a few locks of brown hair to
fall over her shoulder to frame her face_ _. "You're ridiculous."_
_"Wanna do a shot_ _with me_ _?"_
_…_ _.._
_And the next thing Clarke knew, it was significantly later and_ _she_ _was pinned
against the wall of some bathroom, her hands clasped together above her head and
held place with one of Lexa's hands while the other pressed at her_ _cunt_ _at a
consistent and all-too-pleasurable pace. Lexa's lips were on hers, their tongues
intertwined, and they cared for nothing more than each_ _other and pleasure._
_"Oh, fuck, Lexa." Clarke breathed as the brunette's lips trailed down to kiss her
chest_ _and her breasts_ _. Her shirt was unbuttoned, just barely hanging off of
her shoulders, and Lexa's lips on her skin were causing the pleasure in her core to
rise to brand new heights which she hadn't imagined. Her head was spinning – no,
the entire world was spinning – and the only constant in her vortex_ _of pleasure_
_w_ _ere_ _Lexa's hands holding her and fucking her and making her feel better than
she'd ever felt_ _in her life_ _._
_Lexa returned to_ _roughly_ _kiss against Clarke's lips as she added a third
finger into the mix and put her hips behind her hand_ _causing_ _the blonde's
pleasure_ _to_ _rise to even_ _greater_ _heights. She let out a pleased chuckle
when she heard the low moan that emerged from Clarke's throat, and expertly
silenced Clarke's whimpers and moans with her tongue and lips. When the blonde's
back arched and hips pressed into her hand and pulled her fingers even deeper, she
hummed as though she knew she'd taken Clarke there – and then another moan escaped_
_Cl_ _arke's_ _lips, and she climaxed so quickly Lexa barely even kept up until
suddenly Clarke's hands wriggled themselves free from her grasp and she was
flipped_ _around_ _so that she was the one pinned against the tile wall_ _,
Clarke's hands digging into her waist and hips pressing against_ _hips_ _in an
almost violent fashion_ _._ _Pink lips claimed red, and Clarke felt as though all
she would ever need to survive in this world was the pleasure that those beautiful
lips could allow._
_"Holy fuck_ _,_ _" She breathed_ _amidst kisses,_ _"You're...you're good."_
_"You were good too." Lexa murmured against her jaw. Clarke could still recall
being on her knees before this woman just minutes ago, and could still taste Lexa
in her mouth. The thought of doing that again sent pleasurable shivers down her
spine, which only increased when Lexa added:_ _"Sinfully good," and nipped at
Clarke's ear, forcing Clarke to stifle a whimper_ _as the want in her loins
returned yet again._
_......_
_Lexa was crying. Clarke was sitting quietly and allowing it to happen._
_Clarke couldn't remember what had gotten them to this point, but they were
sitting in the corner of some casino's lobby and Clarke's arm was around Lexa and
the brunette was sobbing quietly into her shoulder. Clarke leaned her head back
against the wall and eyed the swarms of people that were walking past their little
hiding place – they were behind some fake plants, hidden from view – and absent-
mindedly rubbed Lexa's_ _arm_ _with her hand._ _The people that passed paid them no
mind; Clarke was only half sure she existed at this point. The only thing she was
actually sure of was the fact that she wasn't non-existing alone. Lexa was
certainly there, that she could feel since the brunette was in her arms, making her
feel warm and comfortable and all too happy._
_"Are you ok?" She slurred after a while, causing_ _Lexa_ _to lift her head and
wipe away some tears._
_"No."_
_"Why_ _..._ _?_ _"_
_"I already told you-" Lexa began, but was interrupted by a hiccup. Clarke had
gotten her to indulge the wonder that was cheap whiskey, and it did not_ _pair_
_well with her digestion. She'd been hiccuping all day and it was lethally
adorable."My parents are dicks."_
_"You should do something to piss them off. Like,_ _reeeallly_ _piss them off..."
Clarke hummed. Lexa's face was so close to hers, and she leaned in to try and kiss
her, but their foreheads collided instead and she recoiled, now bursting with
laughter. Lexa laughed too, and for a moment, the two drunken idiots forgot about
the world and it's cruelties._
_"I'm already a girl, and I'm gay." Lexa mumbled_ _after a while, her forehead now
resting against Clarke's_ _._ _Her eyes were fixed on Clarke's lips as one of her
fingers traced their outline slowly and endlessly. Clarke wanted to kiss her, but
remained still as Lexa continued speaking._ _"_ _How much madder can they get_ _?"_
_"I don't know._ _Kill a man._ _Wreck their car._ _Move to_ _Antarrctica_ _._ _"
Clarke_ _offered_ _. Her tongue rolled over the r's, and Lexa giggled before
pressing her lips sloppily against Clarke's._
_"You're cute. Like, really_ _really_ _cute. Kitten level cute."_
_"I thought I'd be more of a puppy."_
_"_ _I love puppies." Lexa_ _sighed_ _._ _"I can't piss_ _my_ _parents_ _off, they
might take away my person rights and make me a little puppet for_ _themm_ _."_
_"They can't do that?"_

_"Yeah, they can." Lexa replied, nodding her head slowly. "I_ _went to Harvard, I
should know...I_ _have to play by their rules because they're the closest to family
I have._ _They..._ _"_ _She jabbed a finger against her own chest. "They own me and
my heart and my soul."_
_"Oh I know!" Clarke cried. She sat up straighter and stared right into Lexa's
eyes with a wild look in her eyes. "Marry me."_
_Lexa gasped. "You're kidding."_
_"No, I'm serious. Marry me."_
_"Why?"_
_"Wife is family, right?"_
_"Yes?"_
_"Marry me, Lexa."_
_"Do you want to marry me?"_
_Clarke nodded enthusiastically. "_ _I'm like 99% sure I'm falling in love with
you, Lex-xa._ _"_
_"I think I've already fallen. You're pretty amazing."_
_"So do you want to marry me?"_
_"Yes."_
_"Yes?"_
_"Let's g_ _o_ _g_ _et married."_
_...._
_The chapel was as tacky as it was dirty, but Clarke and Lexa were far too drunk to
notice_ _the bubblegum pink walls and the dusty and half-broken plastic flower
arrangements in the corner_ _. They practically stumbled down the aisle, a bouquet
of napkins in Lexa's hand and no rings to exchange. Clarke gave Lexa a piece of gum
instead, and attempted to wrap it around Lexa's finger but the_ _minister_ _ushered
them out before she had the time. Apparently they weren't the only drunken idiots
who had decided to tie the knot._
_"Lexxa Griffin..." Clarke slurred, an idiotic smile plastered onto her face_ _.
"Or_ _Clarrke_ _Woods?"_
_The brunette was currently puking in the chapel's bathroom and Clarke was leaning
against the wall, her entire head and world spinning._ _She was incredibly happy._
_She had a wife._
_"We should have sex." Lexa said when she emerged, wiping her mouth on the back of
her hand._
_"Ew,_ _no, you_ _just puked. Your breath probably reeks."_

_Lexa stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes before pushing Clarke out of the
way so she could wash her mouth. She then took the piece of gum wrapped around her
finger and unwrapped it, tossing the paper towards Clarke before promptly placing
the gum in her mouth._
_"My breath will be_ _fiine_ _." She informed Clarke, tapping her finger against
the blonde's nose and grinning victoriously. "Now let's_ _have sex_ _."_
_And of course, Clarke couldn_ _'t say no to her wife._
_...._
_Around 1am, after countless rounds of drunken sex and naked cuddling, Clarke
snapped awake to hear her phone ringing._
_The whole day, she hadn't thought about Raven or Octavia or anything_ _other than
Lexa_ _. She was still very drunk – they'd ordered champagne with their room
service pizza –and so she stumbled over to where her pants lay discarded next to
the doo_ _r_ _, only tripping twice on her way there_ _._
_"_ _Helloo_ _?" She called into the phone._
_"Clarke!_ _Oh my god we thought you were dead!_ _"_
_"Octavia_ _aa_ _!"_
_"Where are you?!"_
_"I dunno-"_
_"Go outside and tell us what you see, we got tickets for a show and you're coming
with."_
_"I'm nuude."_
_"Well get dressed, asshole."_
_Clarke did as told, forgetting in her drunken stupor about her newlywed wife
passed out in the bed as she stumbled out of the room and the hotel and into the
street._
_"I see...the Eiffel tower?" She said into the phone. "Oh, hotel. It's right
there, across the stre-et._ _."_
_"Come across."_
_The next second, Raven and Octavia were before_ _her, and the folded marriage
certificate_ _in Clarke's pocket fell to the ground and was flown away by the wind,
right along with any memory of the beautiful brunette who she'd left behind in the
hotel bedroom._ _The only souvenir she had from that day were the hickeys on her_
_thighs and the scratches on her back._
_And with time, those faded away._
* * *
Clarke woke up with a gasp. She was laying in bed and it was cold. Too cold. The
covers that had been atop her were now in a pile on the floor, and it was dark.
Moonlight seeped through from the windows, cold and silvery, and for a moment,
Clarke wondered why she'd woken up.
"Holy shit."
With a start, Clarke realized what her dream had been about. In that instant,
memories came pouring to her – not all of them, not even close – but enough for her
to piece together a general idea of what had taken place on her wedding day.
"Holy fucking shit."
She scrambled to get her phone. Raven had to hear this. She had to tell someone.
A while later, Clarke was laying on her back staring out of the window while she
waited Raven to collect herself after hearing her story.
"Holy fucking shit."
"That's what I said."
"This is amazing, Clarke, you have to write this into a book."
"Raven, shut up. What do I do?"
"What do you mean what do you do?"
"I asked her to marry me because I thought I was falling in love with her."
"And?"
"What do I do?" Clarke repeated. "Do I tell Lexa?"
"Yes, of course you tell her, and get her a ring too, a piece of gum won't do."
"Raven--"
"No, I'm serious. She has the right to know, at least about what you did in Vegas.
Either you tell her or I'm telling her when I get there tomorrow."
"Tomorrow already?"
"Well, Sunday. I'm gonna pop over to Canada for a bit tomorrow. Get us some beer.
Do you think they've got maple syrup flavor beer?"
"Raven, those are just stereotypes. I'm pretty sure Canada doesn't run on maple
syrup like you seem to think."
"I don't care, I won't leave until they give me maple syrup beer. Or maybe a pet
moose. That would be fun, right?"
"You're an idiot."
"You're the idiot for putting up with me."
Clarke sighed. "Lexa's coming home tomorrow."

"Good. Tell her."
"I--"
"Clarke, tell her. She has the right to know."
"Fine, I'll tell her. But I'm omitting the whole '99% sure I'm falling in love with
you' part."
"Why? It'd make her melt into your arms."
"It's too soon."
"You're almost to your first year anniversary of _marriage_. I'd say it's way
late."
"I'm not telling her and you aren't either, ok? I need to...I need to think this
whole feelings thing over."
"What, is Clarke 'I don't believe in love' Griffin starting to change her views?"
"Shut up, Raven."
"Congrats, by the way. I was guessing you'd been the one to propose."
"I can't believe I proposed."
"Well clearly blackout drunk you knows better than sober you."
"Shut up."
"Am I wrong?"
"About what?"
"About you not wanting a divorce anymore."
"I—I don't know, Raven. I guess?"
"Ha! I knew it!"
"Shut the fuck up and go back to sleep."
"Now that's just rude--"
"Sleeeeep."
* * *
Clarke spent the rest of the night tossing around in bed, trying to get back to
sleep and failing miserably. But she couldn't sleep – of course she couldn't, there
was too much on her mind and she was now recalling more about the night and how
she'd been feeling and it was all way too much for her to handle.
She couldn't recall much. She could remember meeting Lexa and being absolutely
stunned by the way she looked. She could remember talking endlessly, although the
topics managed to evade her. And then there was a big blank space of at least four
hours from which she couldn't remember anything until the sex.
Oh god, the _sex_.
Just the thought of it sent shivers down Clarke's spine. She had had sex with Lexa,
and she could now remember parts of said sex and fuck, it was hot. The Lexa in her
memories was dominant and headstrong, and although Lexa was yet to show that side
of herself Clarke had already suspected it existed. She had taken Clarke in ways
Clarke would've never imagined herself giving, and the memories of Lexa's lips on
her and her fingers inside her left Clarke frustrated and wanting for more.
And then Lexa had cried about her parents. And Clarke had comforted her.
And then the next thing she knew they were married and consummating said marriage
in the chapel bathroom. And then again in the elevator on their way to their hotel
room. And then on the bed. And then in the shower. And then on the bed again.
Clarke couldn't believe she'd forgotten it all.
_I can't believe this_ , she grumbled in her mind, _I proposed to her and fucked
her on just about every surface in Vegas and I fell for her then and I'm falling
now. Fucking shit._
\--
She finally gave up on sleep sometime around 5am. She put on whatever clothes were
clean – she had barely any clean ones left, since she hadn't bothered to do any
laundry yet. It wasn't as though Lexa really cared, since the brunette was clad in
a hideous hospital gown from hell. But today she was going home and would be
needing something that actually covered her ass.
Clarke snuck into Lexa's bedroom and grabbed some clothes for her from the walk-in
closet - a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie and a tank-top would do. Clarke couldn't
help getting a little flustered when she grabbed a pair of underwear for Lexa and
saw a specific lacy turquoise set which had practically imprinted itself onto her
brain. A flash ran through her mind, of her on her knees and her mouth trailing
down a perfectly toned stomach and her thumbs hooking underneath the waistband of
those very same panties.
Clarke groaned from both pleasure and frustration.
_Get it together._
She stuffed the clothes into her bag and made her way downstairs. She'd expected to
run into Edwards on her way, but instead found a set of keys and a note on the
kitchen table.
_I was called away to a family emergency. Beside_ _this note you_ _should find the
keys to the properties here. Miss Woods expressed her wishes that you help yourself
to whatever you wish. There is some grocery money on the fridge door._ _\- Edwards_
Clarke glanced up and saw two one hundred dollar bills looking down at her from the
door.
"Grocery money?" She wondered aloud as she set the note down and pocketed the keys.
"More like a week's pay."
She didn't bother with a proper breakfast; a bagel and a cup of coffee was more
than enough, and soon she was in Lexa's car, driving towards the hospital to bring
her home.
Lexa wasn't asleep as she'd expected; she was just finishing up her book, and
Clarke now noticed that she wore reading glasses which made her look all too
adorable when you added the fact that she stuck her tongue out just the slightest
bit when she was concentrating. She was so deeply delved in her book that she
didn't notice Clarke at first, not until she spoke.
"Good morning." She said, drawing Lexa out of her concentration and to look up at
her.
"Morning," Lexa smiled. She shut her book, set it aside and took off her glasses.
"How'd you sleep?"
"Why's Edwards gone?"
Lexa made a face. "I told him to leave."
"Why?"
"I don't trust him."
"Why would you need to trust him?"
Lexa shrugged. "He gets his paycheck from my parents. I wouldn't be surprised if he
was reporting on me like every other employee of theirs."
"They pay people to spy on you?"
"Yeah."
Clarke shook her head. "I can't believe you haven't killed them yet."
"The thought did pass my mind a time or two. Or a thousand." Lexa grinned. "But I
think I'm a bit too lazy to spend the rest of my life on the run."
"Are you lazy enough to stay in bed for the rest of your life and never leave this
shit hole of a hospital?" Clarke retorted. She pulled out the bundle of clothes
from her backpack and tossed them onto Lexa's bed.
"I'll be ready in a minute," Lexa said immediately. "I need to leave. I can't stand
another _moment_ with that annoying nurse."
"What, you mean lovely Emily?"
"She's too chirpy to be human," Lexa grumbled as she swung her legs over the side
of the bed and stood up. Her leg wavered, and Clarke was immediately at her side,
her hand holding Lexa's good arm tightly to steady her.
"How about you take it easy, ok?"
Lexa rolled her eyes. "I'm going to change now, so either you can stay here and
gawk or you can go outside and sign the waivers they're making you agree to."
Clarke looked at her carefully before walking to the door, where she paused for
just a second. "Just don't fall, ok?"
Lexa watched her leave with a pained expression on her face. _It's too late, I've
already fallen._
Turns out dressing oneself with one arm is a little more challenging than Lexa
would have liked. Nevertheless, she succeeded at her task – though the hoodie
Clarke had bought didn't fit her cast arm in any way, so she was left with no
choice than to wear only one sleeve with the other side hanging off her shoulder.
With one last look at the room she'd spent far too much time in, she pushed the
door open and walked out, her book in hand and excitement brewing in her gut.
Clarke saw Lexa sneak out of her room and headed over with the wheelchair the
nurses had provided.
"Here. Sit down."
Lexa frowned. "No way."
"Lexa..."
"No way. I'm walking. It's not that far to the car, right?"
Clarke rolled her eyes. "Please sit down?"
"Nope."
"Fine. At least hold my arm or something, ok?"
Lexa nodded slowly and slipped her arm through Clarke's. "Let's go before they
change their mind."
They managed to get to the elevator with no problems whatsoever, but on the way out
of the hospital Lexa stumbled and nearly fell, only to be caught by Clarke's arm
wrapping around her waist and bringing her back upright.
"Should've taken the wheelchair." Clarke smirked as she proceeded to walk again,
now practically carrying Lexa towards the car.
"I like this arrangement better." Lexa mumbled quietly, thinking Clarke wouldn't
hear.
But of course she did. Clarke smiled but said nothing, only tightened her arm
around Lexa's waist and pulled out the car keys with her other hand.
The whole drive to the lodge they didn't speak. Clarke put on some random station
on the radio, but after a while Lexa changed it as she was in no mood to listen to
some monotonous professor talk about the implications of dry continental air on
Seattle's weather systems. Instead, they listened to crappy music the whole hour
until they reached the lodge.
"Home sweet home." Clarke smirked as she helped Lexa out of the car and into the
house. "You wanna go to bed or?"
"What?"
"You wanna lie down or sit on a couch or something?" Clarke asked, grinning
slightly. "Your choice."
Lexa slipped out of Clarke's grasp and walked over to the lounge, where she
promptly sat down onto the leather couch and propped her feet up. "Both."
Clarke laughed and came over with the intent of sitting down only to find that Lexa
had effectively claimed the whole couch.
"Either you sit up or you lift your legs so that I can sit my ass down." Clarke
told her, and Lexa sheepishly allowed her to lift her legs so that they rested in
Clarke's lap as she sat. Clarke couldn't avoid noticing the slight jump that Lexa
made when she rested her hands on her legs, and smiled to herself at her slight
embarrassment.
"You look like you've got something on your mind." Lexa observed after a while.
"Yeah."
"You want to tell me?"
Clarke shrugged. "I kinda have to. Just let me figure out how to say it."
Lexa's heart began racing in her chest. She had no idea what Clarke was talking
about but a glimmer of hope flashed through her mind.
_Maybe she'll say she doesn't want a divorce._
"I kinda remember what happened. In Vegas, I mean."
Lexa gaped at Clarke. She certainly hadn't expected that. "What!?"
"Yeah, my reaction exactly."
"How?"
"I had a dream...and then it kinda came back to me. Parts. Not the entire day."
"Tell me."
Clarke faltered slightly. "It's..uh.."
"Clarke, whatever we did that day, I was there too."
Clarke sighed. "You're right. But don't laugh at me if I start blushing."
"Oh god did we do--"
"Yeah. But now sit back and let me tell you the story of how we got married."
* * *
Clarke was adorable when she got flustered. Lexa couldn't help but smile when she
saw her face go red each time she had to mention the sex they'd had during their
day in Vegas. Of course, Lexa felt slightly flustered as well. Although Clarke was
no longer a stranger, the topic of sex with each other felt incredibly foreign and
awkward. Not to mention Clarke was so awkward about the whole thing that Lexa
didn't know whether to laugh or to cringe.
She herself couldn't remember a thing, aside from waking up in a hotel room which
was not hers but which was registered to her name, with hickeys and _bite mark_ _s_
on her neck and chest and two empty bottles of champagne on the floor. She'd
thought she'd just had a fun night with some girl. Never had it occurred to her
that said girl had been her wife and that that night had been their wedding night.
But now she was receiving a flustered explanation of how she had apparently fucked
Clarke in the shower for the third time that night. And she knew it was true,
because she recognized herself in the actions Clarke described. She didn't go into
full detail, but Lexa knew all too well how dominant she got.
"So you just ditched me, huh?"
Clarke shot her a dirty look. "Don't blame me, I was so drunk I didn't even know
what was happening."
"So was I."
"Did you get home ok? I mean, were you ok the next morning?"
"Worst hangover of my life, but otherwise fine. Maybe a little bit sore, so I kinda
knew I'd had a fun night."
Clarke groaned. "God, we literally did it _everywhere._ "
Lexa giggled and leaned her head back. "But we got married. So it's not even a sin,
right?"
"Unless you count the whole gay part."
"It's not a sin. I checked."
"Are you religious?"
"Not really. Just wanted to see whether the Bible quotations were right."
"And are they?"
"Not at all. They're just bigoted asses, the lot of them."
Clarke patted Lexa's leg gently. "I'm impressed how normal you are, considering how
you grew up. You could've turned out way differently."
"What do you mean?"
"Like...internalized homophobia or crippling depression or intense denial. That

sort of things."
Lexa shrugged. "I knew what I was and refused to believe it was wrong. I guess
being stubborn helps with that."
"You're so strong, you know that?"
"I guess."
"You are. It's pretty amazing."
_You're pretty amazing._
That's what Lexa had said to Clarke when she'd been proposing. Clarke froze and
watched Lexa carefully. She'd graciously omitted the whole '99% in love with you'
and 'already fallen' part, deciding it was best to leave unsaid. Lexa, of course,
had no idea of this.
"So, wait. We got married because I was afraid my parents would take away my
rights?"
Clarke shrugged. "I think it also involved me declaring you were the awesomest
person ever and that marriage with you would be badass."
Lexa laughed, and Clarke smiled. But then something seemed to strike Lexa, and her
smile was wiped from her face.
"What is it, Lexa?"
"I feel like I'm using you," the brunette confessed, "I'm keeping you here and
you're helping me, and you have a life in New York and a job and I just...I feel
like I'm using you."
Clarke gave Lexa's knee a gentle squeeze and offered her a reassuring smile.
"You're not, trust me. If anything, I'm using you and your money. I mean, I'm
basically on a paid free 3 week vacation."
"It's going to be more than three weeks. I don't know how your job will-"
"I'll get another job." Clarke shrugged. "I mean, it's probably not easy, but if
all else fails I can swallow my pride and go live with my mother in Maryland until
I find a job."
"I could provide for you until you find a job," Lexa offered. "Actually, I will.
You seem like you'd complain and refuse to accept my help."
"You're right, I am refusing."
"Well, too bad. I'm giving you the money and you're taking it."
Clarke rolled her eyes. "So long as you believe 100% that you're not using me, I'm
fine."
"I guess."
"You do know you're pretty awesome, right?"
"Thanks."
"Not to mention your ability to not kill your parents is just on a whole level of
self-restraint which I could never achieve."
Lexa glanced at Clarke and smiled. "You better. I don't want you going to prison."
"Why? Would you miss me?"
"Kinda, yeah."
> hands up who loved the sex scene cause i sure did
> they're getting adorably domestic now and i'm sure you guys will love the next
chap because RAVEN IS COMING TO TOWN
> i have a question for you guys tho, how many of you want to see ranya happen??
> cause i'm on the edge about it, tell me what you think and i'll make my decision
based off that
> keep living and kudosing and commenting see ya tomorrow
10. Chapter 10
> oh my goodness i loved writing this chapter

> things happen and it's pretty amazing
> i'm loving all you guys's feedback btw, keep it coming :)
Lexa slept the rest of the day and through the night, leaving Clarke alone to with
little to do to ease her boredom. She tried to entertain herself by drawing, but
found she could only think and draw of Lexa. She tried to distract herself with
reading, but found herself wondering about the book she'd brought to Lexa and
whether she could borrow it. Watching TV shows was impossible because the wi-fi was
practically inexistent, eliminating any functional way for her to tune out her mind
and her heart.
She headed out into the woods for a short morning walk the next day, following a
trail Lexa had told her about with her camera in hand. Even then, she found herself
imagining Lexa on the same trail, walking ahead of her on the path and showing her
the best views and prettiest trees and pointing out the squirrels in the trees and
the birds that flew overhead.
_Maybe someday._
Not far up the trail she came to a steep uphill, and at it's top she found herself
on a cliff far above the treetops, looking down at the valley in which Polis
resided. The sun was barely up, it's rays stretching over the green forests and
blue lakes in a lazy fashion, and Clarke understood then why Lexa loved the trail
so much.
"It's like I was on top of the world," she told Lexa when she returned, "I could
feel the wind pushing at me and I was almost scared I'd fall off. It was so
beautiful, I regret not bringing my sketchbook with me."
"There's always tomorrow." Lexa commented from her spot on the couch. She was
reading again, but this was a new book. Clarke leaned over the back of the couch to
see better, perhaps bringing her face too close to Lexa's but she didn't care and
Lexa didn't appear phased.
"What're you reading?"
"Sophie's world."
"What's it about?"
"A girl named Sophie starts receiving letters which teach her about philosophy."
"Sounds boring."
"It's not. It's really good."
Clarke now noticed that the binding of the book was worn and that the pages were
yellowed. "It's one of your favorites, isn't it?"
"How did you know?"
"Your book has seen better days."
Lexa set the book down in her lap and looked at it carefully. "I suppose."
"Can I borrow it sometime?"
Lexa shut her book and threw her a quizzical look. "Didn't you just say it sounds
boring?"
"Well you're not boring and if it's one of your favorites then perhaps I judged it
too harshly." Clarke quipped with a shining smile.
Just then, the doorbell rang.Clarke jumped in surprise, having not realized there
could even be a doorbell to ring in the first place. She then looked at Lexa and
saw her entire face had gone white as a sheet.
"What's wrong?"
"I just...for a moment I thought it'd be my parents. But it can't be...can it?"
Clarke glanced at the clock. "It's probably Raven."
The doorbell rang again. And again. And then it was just a continuous repeat of the
ring, demanding and incredibly annoying.
"It's definitely Raven," Clarke sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm gonna go before she
breaks your doorbell."
Sure enough, Clarke found an incredibly annoyed Raven behind the massive oaken
door, carrying a bottle of vodka in one hand and a duffel bag in another.
"Asshole. I had to ring like a thousand times." She grumbled as she stomped inside,
enveloping Clarke into a brief hug before pulling away and shoving the bottle into
her hand. "Here. A souvenir from Canada."
"I thought you went in search of maple syrup beer?"
"I found maple syrup vodka. Infinitely better. We're so drinking it tonight, I
don't care how gross it is."
Clarke's eyes flickered towards the living room. She had yet to ask Lexa about why
she'd been drinking, and wasn't so sure if it was okay to bring hard liquors into
the house with her. She had been deliberately avoiding asking those questions.
"How about you put the bottle in your bag for now?"
Raven was surprisingly understanding, nodding slightly as she put the bottle back
into her bag and set the bag onto the floor.
"Okay, where's the wife?"
Clarke rolled her eyes and led Raven into the living room to find Lexa sitting up,
her green eyes peering at them expectantly.
"Holy fuck, Clarke, your sketches did not prepare me for this." Raven blurted out
in astonishment. Clarke blushed violently and elbowed her in the ribs, while Lexa
smiled and hid her own slight embarrassment behind her book.
Lexa stared at the woman who stood next to Clarke in the doorway. Her stance was
strong and somehow determined; one hand rested on her hip, while the other hung at
her side in an all-too relaxed fashion. She was clad in ripped jeans and a long-
sleeved tee so old it’s logo had faded away decades ago, and in her feet she wore
combat boots; her dark brown hair was pulled to a loose, messy ponytail, and Lexa
could see the slightest hint of a tattoo near her neck. From where she was sitting,
she couldn't see much, but to her it looked like a dragon's head, with the body
running over Raven's shoulder and probably down her back, too. There was a smug
smirk on her face, and her features were somehow simultaneously sharp and soft. One
eyebrow was quirked higher than the other, and all in all her entire existence
seemed to dare Lexa to try her. This was a no-nonsense type of person, Lexa could
see that simply by looking at her, and she found herself feeling a little shy.
She'd never been so good with people, and this was Clarke’s friend. She didn’t want
to embarrass herself.
"Sorry, that was weird. Hi, I'm Raven. Big fan of your work." Raven smiled, walking
over to offer Lexa her hand. Lexa took it and shook it slightly, looking confused
as ever.
"Lexa," she mumbled, giving Raven a shy smile. "What do you mean work?"
"Domesticating this idiot here." Raven stated in a matter-of-fact fashion, nodding

towards Clarke who rolled her eyes and groaned.
"Raven, _behave_."
"Thanks for letting me stay here, I guess." Raven shrugged, ignoring Clarke
completely. "Your place is awesome."
Lexa nodded and smiled. "Welcome. There's no actual bed for you, but there's an air
mattress in the garage that I'm pretty sure works."
"I'll sleep on the floor if I have to, so long as I'm not stuck in New York." Raven
quipped. "Did you know your nearest neighbor is like twenty miles away? If you
decided to go on a murder spree no one would ever hear our screams."
"Except for the bears." Clarke quipped as she slumped down onto the couch near Lexa
- very close, actually, because when Lexa shifted slightly, one of her feet came to
rest against Clarke's thigh. Neither of the two thought more of it, but Clarke
could notice Raven's eyebrows rising slightly. She shot her a look that basically
said 'I will kill you if you say anything'.
Raven retorted with a look of her own that read something along the lines of 'watch
me'.
"There's bears?" Raven exclaimed, still staring at the pair with a knowing smirk
plastered on her face.
"No, there aren't any bears." Lexa chuckled. "Not any that I've seen, anyway. They
probably don't really like people."
"There's one thing bears and I have in common." Clarke commented.
Raven sat down into the armchair nearby and sighed audibly. "So, how's married
life?"
Clarke groaned and glared at Raven. "Raven, no."

"What? I'm just asking an innocent question."
"I still have to kill you, you know."
"Will you please just let that go? It was one mistake."
Clarke's eyes flickered to Lexa, and she couldn't help but smile when she saw the
confusion plastered on her face. "I have to kill her for what she said during the
conversation the two of you had." She explained, excluding Raven deliberately.
"What?" Lexa asked, astonished. "Why?"
"Because Raven is an asshole."
"Hey!" Raven interjected. “Rude.”
"Do you deny it?" Clarke snapped, turning her blue eyes to glare at Raven.
Raven smirked. "You know I won't."
"See? This is what it's like to be friends with someone like Raven. Nothing works
with her."
Lexa shook her head. "I don't think I've ever had a friend like Raven. I don't
think I've ever even met anyone like you," she added, looking at Raven with
amusement twinkling in her eyes.
"Well, you do now. 100% authentic Raven Reyes, available for all your platonic
desires." Raven told her with a wink. "Which reminds me, I've been desiring junk
food ever since the last time I passed a McDonalds. Food run, anyone?"
Clarke shrugged. "Nah. You can go though."
"Clarke, that wasn't a fucking question."
"Yes it was."
"Ok, let me rephrase it then. Clarke, get your ass in the car."
"I can't leave Lexa, she's bed-bound and needs a lot of help."
"No I don't." Lexa interjected. "You two go. I'll be just fine."
Clarke eyed her carefully. "You sure? The doctor told me I shouldn't leave you
alone for long periods of time."
"I'm not a baby or a pet, Clarke. I can handle myself for an hour. Besides, the
nurse should be here in about twenty minutes to change my bandages and do some
tests."
"Fine, but I'm leaving my phone with you. If you start dying, you call Raven's
number. She's number two on my speed dial."
"Not the hospital?"
"Fine, maybe call 911 first but then call me."
Raven rolled her eyes. "You two are sickening." And with that, she grabbed Clarke's
shoulders and pushed her away from Lexa and out of the house and into her worse-
for-wear wreck of a car.
"Raven, your car smells like sex." Clarke commented as she leaned back into the
age-old leather seat. "Glad to see you're moving on from Wick."
"It was nothing, just a little quickie."
"Who with?"
Raven shrugged as she started the car and wheeled them away from the lodge. "I
dunno. Some guy I met at the diner this morning. Maybe his name was Lawrence…wait,
no, Lawrence was in Michigan. Ben, maybe?"
"Please don't tell me you did it where I'm sitting."
Raven glanced sideways and gave her a wild grin. "There's a reason why the seat may
be sticky."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Raven!"
But the brunette just giggled and shook her head. "Don't worry, Clarke, all the
actual sex was confined to the backseat. You're too gullible."
There was a bobblehead figurine of a mountie stuck to the dashboard, and as they
drove along Clarke watched it's head bob from side to side.
"So, what did she say when you told her?"
"About Vegas?"
"No, about your undying love for her." Raven said, rolling her eyes. "Yes, about
Vegas."
"Oh just shut up." Clarke groaned. "She...she was fine with it. A bit surprised,
but so was I, so...."
"And she can't remember anything?"
"No, she can't."
"That's probably good, right? Since you want to keep your falling heart a secret?"
"I just need time, ok?"
"Take too much time and she'll think you don't want her," Raven reminded her.
"Don't fuck this up, Griffin."
* * *
They returned a little over an hour later with two pizzas and an insane amount of
Chinese takeout, which Raven piled onto the kitchen counter while Clarke went to
rouse Lexa who'd fallen asleep on the couch.
"Lexa."
Lexa woke up rapidly and sat up, her book falling from her chest to the floor.
Clarke bent over and picked it up to set it on the table, feeling Lexa's eyes on
her as she did so.
"How was the drive?" Lexa mumbled, still half asleep.
"Good. Raven's an ass. But we got a lot of food. You hungry?"
"Do you not hear my stomach?"
Clarke offered the brunette her hand and smiled. "Well, wife, shall we?"
Had she not turned her face away just then, she would have caught the warm smile
and gentle blush that crept onto Lexa's face when she heard Clarke calling herself
her wife. But she had to turn her face, because her own cheeks were turning pink,
and she was not ready for Lexa to see that.
About an hour and several slices of pizza and egg rolls later, Lexa and Clarke sat
alone in the living room again. Raven was off 'cleaning her car', though Clarke
knew her friend was most likely standing just outside the door eavesdropping on the
two of them and their ‘marital life’.
"Hey, Lexa."
"Yeah?"
"I...I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Um...the accident. You were drinking that night."
"Yeah?"
"Are you...do you have a problem? With alcohol, I mean?"
Lexa raised her eyebrows. "Are you asking me if I'm an alcoholic?"
"Yes."
Lexa sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm not. I just had a bad night, that's all."
Clarke was not satisfied by her answer. "You do realize that's exactly what an
alcoholic in denial would say, right?"
The brunette nodded. "I do. But trust me, Clarke, I have no desire to let my life
be controlled by a substance when it is already controlled by my parents."
"Alright, I trust you." Clarke said slowly. "So you're okay if I have a drink with
Raven? Cause her boyfriend dumped her and she really needs a drink. Or five."
Lexa chuckled. "Of course. I'm going to go to sleep. Try not to make too much
noise, ok?"
"Of course, Sleeping Beauty," Raven quipped as she sauntered into the room. "We'll
be shipshop hushy hushy."
Clarke threw her a quizzical look. "Are you drunk?"

Raven looked at her with a daring twinkle in her eye, then looked at the now open
bottle of maple syrup vodka in her hand. "Maaybe."
“Already?”
Lexa laughed quietly as she stood up to go to bed. She was stopped by Clarke's hand
grasping her arm, and turned to look at her in confusion.
"Good night," Clarke smiled, "And thanks again for letting this trainwreck stay
here."
"It's no problem." Lexa said, suddenly flustered. "Uh..good night to you too."
* * *
It was around 2am and both Clarke and Raven were adequately buzzed to say the
least. While Raven had certainly allowed herself to go way over the edge and drink
nearly half of the not-so-disgusting vodka, Clarke had kept herself to a bare
minimum. She wasn't so sure she trusted her drunk self anymore, not now when she
knew what she'd done in Vegas.
"You know, Clarke.." Raven began. She had a bottle of beer in her hand and was
sitting on the living room floor, her back against the couch and her feet stretched
out before her on Lexa's fancy Persian rug. She'd fallen off some time ago and
found the floor was more inviting and thus stayed there. Or perhaps she was just
too lazy and too drunk to maneuver herself back onto the couch.
"I think there's something wrong with me."
"How come?"
"Everyone leaves me."
Clarke frowned. Raven was not one to dwell on negative feelings, and hearing Raven
Reyes admitting to something like that was certainly not an everyday occasion.
Raven was the confident one, and it broke Clarke’s heart to realize that her friend
was hurt over Wick.
"Noo...Raven, they leave you because you keep picking complete asshats who are
blind to your true glory. None of them deserved you."
"That's because complete asshats are the only people I can find who actually want
me," Raven grumbled.
"Maybe expand your search to other places than just the dirtiest bars in the
sketchiest neighborhoods of New York and you'll find someone."
Raven took a sip from her beer and twirled the bottle in her hands. "It's just
hard, you know?"
Clarke shuffled to lay on her stomach so that she was closer to Raven. "Hey. You're
perfect, you hear me?"
She knew very well that a solemn Raven was a rare sight, and was to be treated with
the utmost care.
The girl shrugged and took another sip. "I may be perfect but apparently no one
wants me either way. No one ever picks me first."
"I'd pick you first and I'll dropkick every single one who doesn't." Clarke
declared determinedly. "Listen, Raven. Ok? Just listen and believe me when I say
this."
Raven turned to look at Clarke and nodded. "Ok."
"You're literally the greatest person I know. You'll find someone who won't dump
you. It might just take time."
"I've been waiting fore-ever."
"I know you have."
"How is it fair that you, the complete romantic disaster, can accidentally get
married and succeed at it? It's not fucking fair," Raven grumbled, but there was no
true envy or anger in her voice.
"What do you mean romantic disaster?"
Raven let out an exasperated sigh. "Clarke, I've been your friend for what, three
years now?"
"Almost four."
"Right. Anyway, I've watched you date people and refuse to think you love them when
you do and then wound your heart when you force yourself to leave them the moment
you think you're starting to feel something. You think you've broken many hearts
and I'm sure you have but you've broken your own heart the most and it's so
frustrating when you won't just admit that love is real."
“But…it isn’t, not for me.”
"Of course you’d think that, you're so far in denial and thus far I've figured I'd
just let you do you because none of the people you've dated were anywhere near
deserving of your heart. But Lexa is. I've only known her for a short while but
trust me, Clarke, she's literally perfect."
"I don't know."
“I won’t have you screwing this up.”
“But it’s…I don’t even know _what_ I’m feeling.”
"Give it time."
"I...I don't know."
Raven swatted at her face gently. "You're an idiot."
"You're an idiot." Clarke retorted, giving Raven a gentle shove. "But...you're ok

with Wick?"
Raven nodded. Her depressive mood was all but gone, and she was clearly back to her
usual self. "Yeah. Good riddance. Did I tell you he made the grossest noises during
sex?"
"Yeah, you did, right after your first date. You imitated them and I still have
them on video."
"Oh, right. Cause I tell you everything."
"Even the things I don't want to hear."
"Like what?"
"Like that time you did it in the bathroom of a McDonalds?"
"Right. Yeah, that was kinda nasty."
"You're a dirty whory asshole and I love you." Clarke smiled, patting Raven's head
gently before sort of hugging her without moving from her place on the couch. "And
you'll find love. I'd say I'd marry you if I weren't already married, but I
promise, if you're still single at 50 I'm divorcing Lexa and marrying you."
"Ew, no, I do not want to be married to you. I can't even _imagine_ fucking you.
Not to mention I think we'd end up killing each other before we even get home from
the magistrate."
"Please, you'd be lucky to fuck me."
"I think I'll pass." Raven smirked. "So you're planning on still being married to
Lexa at 50?"
Clarke grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her face. "Shut up."
The doorbell rang just then for the second time that day.
"Who the fuck's ringing the bell at 2am?" Clarke whined. "I don't wanna get up. You
get it."
"What if it's an axe murderer?"
"Then scream loudly before you get murdered so that I have a chance at running
away."
Raven groaned and got up. "If I die you get none of my shit."
"Just get the fucking door."
Raven stumbled across the living room and to the foyer, and opened the door with
such force the woman standing outside was sufficiently startled.
"Who are you?" Raven demanded, eyeing the woman in annoyance. "Are you lost?"
The woman stood up straight and looked at her coolly, her hazel eyes peering at the
drunken girl standing at the doorstep of her best friend's lodge. Raven wavered
just slightly when their eyes met, and she found herself gaping shamelessly at the
woman’s sharp features and cutthroat jawline.
"Who are you?" Her voice was demanding, but failed to hide the complete confusion
and surprise which she was clearly feeling.
"I asked first." Raven retorted, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Clarke, I presume? I thought your hair was blonde."
Raven knitted her eyebrows and brought a hand up to her hip. "Why would you think
that?"
"This is Lexa's lodge and I've never met you, and she told me you were staying here
and that your name is Clarke."
"I'm not Clarke."
"Then who are you and why are you here?"
"I'm Raven. I'm here with Clarke."
"Where's Lexa? She wasn't at the hospital, they said they'd let her go home."
"Upstairs sleeping."
"Can I come in?"
"Who are you?"
"I'm Anya and I'm Lexa's best friend now let me in or I will punch you and let
myself in."
Raven stared at her for a long moment before finally stepping aside and allowing
Anya to walk inside. "Sorry about the...drunk." She mumbled. "Totally the best
first impression, right?"
Anya sighed. "It's fine."
Clarke had heard the door close and now emerged into the foyer, her brows furrowed
in confusion.
"And you're Clarke?" Anya asked, recognizing the blonde from Lexa's all-too-
detailed description. Clarke heard a level of coolness in her voice, some sort of
determination and confidence which made her feel small and judged.
"Yeah." Clarke shrugged. "You?"
"I'm Anya."
"As in the Anya who's supposed to be in Africa for another week or two?"
"I came back when I heard about...well, the marriage."
"Ah."
"And you're drunk too?"
"Only a little." Clarke shrugged, feeling defensive. "And Lexa's fine with it, I
asked her."
"How is she?"
"Sleeping."
Anya studied the blonde girl before her. She was just as pretty as Lexa had
described, and Anya could tell that she was absolutely nothing like any of Lexa’s
previous dalliances. She seemed nice. And it was obvious that Lexa was over the
moon about her.
She decided then that she would have to sit her down for a talk once she was sober.
"You two should go to sleep."
"What are you, our mom?"
"It's almost 3 in the morning." Anya replied. "I take it the second bedroom is
taken?"
Clarke nodded. "That would be me."
"And the air mattress?"
"Mine," Raven chirped. "And only mine. I'm not sharing."
"Then where am I supposed to sleep?"
"The couch?"
"No fucking way. I've been on a plane for over 24 hours."
"I don't know, go ask Lexa."
"She's sleeping."
Raven raised her hand and both Anya and Clarke turned their eyes to her. "What?"
"I have a suggestion."
"Do tell."
"How about the married couple sleeps _together_ and you take Clarke's room?"
Anya peered at Raven curiously. She was quickly growing to like this quirky and
quick-witted girl, and thoroughly enjoyed her shameless comments and apparent lack
of ability to censor anything that left her mouth.
Clarke gaped at Raven. "No way."
"Yes way. Anya's probably flown god knows how many hours and needs a real bed."
"That I do." Anya added, taking Raven's side in the debate.
Clarke groaned. "I'd rather sleep on the couch."
"Is it really so bad to be sleeping with your wife?"
"She's asleep. I can't just barge in."
Raven groaned and looked at Anya. "Can I have a word?" Without waiting for an
answer, she grabbed the woman by the arm and dragged her into the living room,
leaving Clarke alone and confused in the foyer.
"Right. I'm going to need your help." Raven breathed once she'd gotten beyond
earshot of Clarke. "You think this whole divorce idea is ridiculous, right?"
Anya nodded. "Lexa's falling for her so quick it's actually kind of scary to
watch."
"Same with Clarke." Raven whispered. "But they're idiots. So they need a
lil...push, you know?"
"And you think getting them to share a bed will do that?"
"Yes. Definitely. 100%." Raven nodded, smiling stupidly. She was drunk and wasn't
so sure what she was saying but the woman before her was pretty even though she
looked dead tired and she smelled nice.
She seemed cool.
Raven had a thing for cool people.
"How are you intending on getting Clarke into Lexa's bedroom?"
"Simple. We carry her."
"Isn't she going to fight us?"
"There's two of us and one of her." Raven smirked. "I think we can do it. We just
need to get her up the stairs and then I'll carry her and you follow in case she
tries to murder me."
Anya rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I'm only doing this because I really want to sleep
in an actual bed."
Raven chewed her lip. There was, of course, an alternative solution to the three
beds and four people problem. But she was drunk, she knew that, and Anya wasn't
just some random girl in a bar.
No, a one night stand wouldn't be a solution. It'd just be a problem.
"Ok."
They returned to the foyer to find Clarke still waiting for them, looking as
confused as ever.
"Hey, Clarke? Could you take this upstairs?" Anya asked innocently, handing Clarke
one of her bags. Raven was already carrying one, and under this guise they managed
to get Clarke up the stairs.
"But where are you going to sleep?" Clarke asked, eyeing the two women carefully.
Before she could even realize, Raven darted forward and promptly picked her up and
threw her over her shoulder.
"Raven, what the hell! Put me down!" Clarke cried, pounding her fists against
Raven's back, but Raven only laughed and made her way towards Lexa's bedroom at the
end of the hall. Anya followed too, and opened the door for them, allowing Raven to
carry Clarke over to the bed and throw her on it before quickly slamming the door
shut after Raven had come out and jamming it with a chair. "Get the bathroom door,
too." She told Raven, who grinned and did as told as quickly as she could.
Lexa wasn't roused until Clarke was dropped into her bed, and even then she didn't
fully realize what was going on until the door was shut and she heard Clarke's
voice muttering curses next to her. She turned to her side to find Clarke's face
not inches from hers, and yelped slightly as she darted a little backwards.
"What the hell?" She asked, now completely awake and completely confused. Clarke
sat up quickly and darted to the door, only to find it jammed from the outside. She
slammed a hand against the door in frustration and groaned.
"Raven, I swear to God and Jesus almighty I am going to _murder_ you!"
Lexa could now hear laughter from the other side of the door, and was still very
confused. There wasn't one voice, but two. Her sleepy mind could not fathom how she
was hearing two people laughing, and it certainly did not dawn on her that she
recognized the voice. She was too tired for that.
After all, it was 3am.
"What the hell, Clarke?" Lexa finally managed to mumble.
Clarke tried to push the door open one more time before giving up and coming back
to the bed, where she sat down on it's edge carefully.
"Raven's a dick." She huffed. "I'm sorry we woke you up."
Lexa shrugged and propped herself up against her elbows. "It's fine."
In the pale moonlight, Lexa looked much paler than what she actually was. There was
a drowsy look in her eyes, and Clarke had to bite her lip to stifle a smile when
she saw an adorable yawn stretch over her face.
"You can lay down, you look funny perched on the edge like that." Lexa said then
with a gentle smile. Clarke returned the smile and laid down onto the bed beside
her, on her side so that she could see Lexa's face.
"So why are you in my room at this hour of the night? Did you have a nightmare?"
Lexa teased, a smile still playing on her lips. She couldn't deny that having
Clarke in her bed was making her stomach do somersaults and flips and the
butterflies weren't just restricted to her belly but to every cell of her being.
It was annoying to say the least.
"They locked me in here." Clarke grumbled.
"They?"
"Oh, yeah, your friend Anya showed up."
"What!?"
"Yeah."
Lexa contemplated getting up to go see Anya, but figured the likelihood of her
getting the door open was very slim. She knew that Anya was most likely already
passed out in whatever she deemed to be close enough to a bed.
She'd have time to see her in the morning.
"Why'd they lock you in here?"
"There's three beds and four people. Apparently they decided that we should share a
bed since we're married."
"And so they carried you here and tossed you in my bed without so much as
consulting me?"
"You were asleep," Clarke pointed out. "And Raven's drunk."
Lexa shook her head and chuckled. "You're welcome to stay the night here, if you
want."
Clarke sighed contently. "Thank you, although it's not like I've got much choice."
She got up to go sit in the armchair, but was stopped when Lexa said:
"I meant the bed. You're not sleeping in the armchair."
"Why not the armchair?"
"I've slept in that chair, it's the devil. Your neck will be jammed for weeks. You
don't want that."
"You're fine if I sleep in the bed?"
"Of course. It's not like I'd make you sleep on the floor."
"I promise I won't do anything weird." Clarke told her as she slipped underneath
the covers, keeping a safe distance from Lexa.
Lexa yawned again, and mumbled a good night before turning to her side and going to
sleep. Clarke, too, fell asleep soon enough, and the two women waiting outside the
room soon went to sleep as well.
All was well in the lodge that night.
> raven and anya are now officially co-captaining the ship while lexa and clarke
remain idiots
> told ya it was gonna be slow burn
> but moments are happening now and it gets ADORABLE i'm getting feelings while
editing
> next chapter is already written and it's amazing i've edited it like ten times
and there's a twist that i'm pretty sure you guys are going to be DYING for ;)
11. Chapter 11
> i'm feeling very generous this morning so here you go my darlings
> long-ass chapter, be grateful
> once again, thanks for the feedback, i always upload right before going to sleep
and its great to wake up to all the notifications and you guys's lovely comments
When Raven snuck into the bedroom to check on them the next morning, the sight
before her made a wide smile spread onto her face. Clarke was laying on her back,
her arms wrapped around Lexa who was half laying atop her with her face nuzzled in
Clarke's neck. It was so adorable and so natural that it was almost as though they
had been sleeping like so for all their lives.
Raven simply couldn't resist the temptation to pull out her phone and take a
picture.
But of course the camera sound went off, and the next second Clarke's eyes burst
open and she glared at Raven angrily. "You better run for your life, bitch."
Raven skittered away, slamming the door shut behind her and causing Lexa to wake up
as well. Only then did the two of them realize that they were cuddling, and Lexa
quickly pulled away, a slight redness spreading to her cheeks.
"Sorry." She mumbled.
Clarke shrugged. "It's fine. It happens."
"It does?"
"I mean sometimes I cuddle my friends. It's not weird or anything."
"It’s a little weird."
"Yeah, it's a little weird."
Clarke wasn't about to admit that it was very weird. With friends, cuddling was
fine, since it was platonic. But Lexa wasn't her friend. Lexa was her soon-to-be
ex-wife, for whom she wasn't supposed to be developing feelings. Lexa was also her
wife for whom she was definitely developing some level of feelings, and Clarke
failed to deny that the feeling of Lexa in her arms had been heavenly.
She cleared her throat and propped herself up with her elbows, only now noticing
that it was closer to lunchtime than breakfast.
"I'm literally going to kill Raven." Clarke grumbled. "And Anya, too. She was in on
it. They worked together against me."
Lexa sat up with a groan and smiled. "Doesn't sound like Anya."
"You have no idea how persuasive Raven can get. If she decided to do this, there is
no way Anya could've said no."
Lexa laughed. "She does seem like that."
Clarke looked at her and suddenly was struck with an idea. "Hey, I have an idea."
"What?"
"Raven's going to know to expect revenge from me. She'll be wary...of me."
"Go on."
"Wanna team up? She won’t suspect you, you’re innocent. In the spirit of showing
those two meddling idiots that locking us in a bedroom together isn't ok?"
"Do you have a plan?"
* * *
A little while later, Clarke and Lexa walked down to the kitchen together. Raven
watched them carefully, taking note of how Lexa didn't even have to ask for Clarke
to wrap her arm around her waist to support her as they descended the stairs. The
two of them just clicked, that much was obvious; they fit together like two pieces
in a puzzle and it frustrated Raven to no end that neither of them could see it.
She was wary of Clarke. Clarke seemed too calm for her to trust her, and Raven
_knew_ Clarke had something planned.
She always did.
"Morning," she greeted Clarke warily.
"Morning, Raven." Clarke said coolly as she walked past her to the fridge, from
where she pulled a cold slice of pizza and a carton of milk.
"Is that your breakfast?" Lexa asked Clarke, eyes wide. She had a box of granola
and yogurt in her hand, and had been on her way to prepared herself a healthy
breakfast when she'd caught sight of Clarke's absolute nutritional disgrace.
"Pizza?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with it?"
"It's...pizza." Lexa stammered. "You can't start your day with pizza."
"Yes, you can." Clarke replied, shoving the slice into Lexa's mouth. "Try it."
Raven was on the verge of exploding. Her tongue was clamped so tightly between her
teeth that she was sure she'd bite it off, but she couldn't release it because she
knew she'd say something inappropriate and she _did not_ want to ruin this perfect
moment unraveling before her.
Lexa frowned and took the slice of pizza into her hand, sticking her tongue out at
Clarke. "It's unhealthy."
"So is living. We all die anyway, so you might as well live a little." Clarke
quipped.
Lexa's eye roll was so perfect Raven felt like she should have it video'd and sent
to a museum to be kept for all of eternity.
"Ok, how about this? I eat whatever you were going to eat and you try out cold
pizza. That way we balance out, right?"
Yet another eye roll, but Lexa did not protest. "Fine."
Raven remained quiet and wary of Clarke throughout the breakfast. She mainly
concentrated on her phone, flipping mindlessly through random apps while glancing
up every now and then to ensure Clarke wasn't coming at her with a knife.
"Hey, Raven?"
Raven's head snapped up. "What?"
"Can I borrow your phone? Mine's out of battery."
Raven peered at Clarke carefully. "Why? What are you going to do, delete every
picture and ruin my social media image for all of eternity?"
"Raven, I swear on my father's grave I won't do that. I just need to call my mom,
ok?"
Clarke did not swear on her father's grave in vain. Raven knew this, and
begrudgingly handed over her phone. Clarke smiled and thanked her before walking
out into the foyer, leaving Raven alone with Lexa.
"Hey, Raven?"
Raven looked at Lexa in surprise. "What?"
"Can we talk?"
"Like now?"
"Yeah." Lexa nodded, flashing her a bright smile. "But not here. I don't want
Clarke hearing."
Raven nodded and stood up. "Where to?"
Lexa led her outside and to the lake's shore. "You mind if we sit on the bench on
the dock? I'm not feeling too strong."
Raven shrugged. "Sure, whatever. Just tell me what you wanna say, I'm kinda dying
to know."
They walked to the end of the dock and Lexa stood there for a while, staring at the
water. Raven didn't sit down, only stood beside Lexa, waiting for her to speak.
"You know, I think this is my favorite place in the world." Lexa said quietly.
"It is pretty."
"Oh, and Clarke sends her regards."
"Wait, what?"
But before Raven could even react, Lexa had given her a hard push and she stumbled
off of the dock and into the freezing cold lake with a loud splash. The water
rushed at her and for a while she fought for breath as the coldness set in, and
when she emerged above the surface gasping for air she saw Lexa laughing on the
dock and Clarke absolutely losing it on the shore. Laughter echoed across the lake
as the ripples of Raven's anything-but-gracious plunge ran towards it's sides along
the freezing water’s surface.
"Oh fuck you!" Raven cried as she paddled towards the dock. "I trusted you!" She
clambered onto the dock and was now shivering, her wet hair plastered to her face
and her clothes drenched throughout.
Lexa hurried off the dock before Raven got to her feet, and it was smart of her to
do so; Raven would have most likely pushed her into the water in revenge otherwise.
The soaked girl practically ran back to the house and up the stairs, muttering
curses all the way, and burst into Clarke's bedroom without thinking much more of
it other than the fact that she wanted a hot shower that instant.
Anya was still sleeping, but when a pissed off Raven Reyes barges into your room,
it is basically impossible to remain asleep. She burst awake when she heard the
door slam open, and barely had time to register what had happened until she heard
the bathroom door open and the shower being turned on. When Raven emerged from said
bathroom twenty minutes later clad in nothing but a large towel, Anya was waiting
for her, tapping her foot expectantly.
"What gave you the right to barge into my room at this ungodly hour and wake me
up?"
Raven shot her a glare. "Don't blame me, I was ambushed."
"What?"
"They shoved me in a lake. Wait, no, your best friend shoved me in the lake."
"Lexa? No, that's not possible, Lexa wouldn't do that."
"I'm sure Clarke filmed it, just you wait. Lexa's fucking evil." Raven grumbled.
"Sorry for waking you up."
Anya couldn't help the smile that spread onto her face. Her eye ran along Raven’s
figure briefly, and she caught sight of an intricate dragon tattoo which seemed to
run up along Raven’s back and over her shoulder. But she only saw it at a glance,
and the next second she’d fixed her eyes on Raven’s face. "You look like a drenched
rat."
"That's me. That’s what your best friend has reduced me to." Raven quipped before
hurrying out of the room and down the stairs to find herself some dry clothes. She
found Lexa and Clarke in the living room, still dying with laughter, literal tears
running down their faces.
"You two disgust me." She growled as she shot past them to the study where her air
mattress had been set up.
"You deserved it, you asshole!" Clarke called after her with nothing but pure,
unbridled joy in her voice.
Raven came out wearing a pair of leggings and a hoodie and scowled at the couple on
the couch. "I'm so mad at you."
"Well, you shouldn't have locked me in Lexa's bedroom last night."
"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?"
"And I told you I'd kill you. Be glad I only did this."
"You didn't even do it, you got your wife to do it because you _knew_ I wouldn't
suspect her. That's just pure evil."
"Stop meddling, Raven, and maybe we won't repeat this." Clarke quipped. "And
besides, I took your phone beforehand so it wouldn't get wet. I was _considerate_.
I could've just let it get wrecked."
Raven stuck her tongue out and slumped into the armchair, her glare darting between
Lexa and Clarke at an even pace.
"What's this I hear about shoving people into lakes?"
Lexa's face lit up when she heard Anya's voice.
“Anya!” She stood quickly to go over to Anya and wrapped her in a tight hug.
"Welcome back."
Anya hugged her carefully and sighed. "I missed you, Lexa."
"I missed you too."
"But seriously, did you really shove Raven into the lake?"
"Yeah." Lexa said sheepishly.
"I can't believe you."
"Clarke's idea." Lexa shrugged. "Besides, she's fine. Right?"
Raven scowled at her from her chair. "If I die from pneumonia, it's on you."
"You won't die of pneumonia, Anya's a doctor."
"Really?" Clarke interjected. "And you were in Senegal, right?"
"Yes."
"That's funny, my mom's supposed to be coming back from Senegal in a week or so.
She’s a doctor too."
Anya crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Clarke's mind to catch up.
"Wait, hold on. Were you with Doctors without Borders?"
Anya smirked and nodded. "Yes, your mom is my boss."
"Holy shit."
The woman walked over and sat into the other armchair. "You know, she's sort of mad
at you."
"Why?"
"You haven't called her in ages, that's why."
"I called her like, last week."
"Two weeks, I'd say."
"Why do you know?"
"Because she kept ranting to me about how worried she was, that's why. You really
should call her."
Clarke rolled her eyes and buried herself deeper into the couch. "I'll do that
later."
Her phone rang in her pocket just then, and she pulled it out to find that Gustus
was calling.
"Hi Gustus," she sighed into the phone. "How's the divorce coming along?"
"I thought you and Miss Woods agreed to put a standstill to the process until
further notice."
"Right. Why are you calling?"
"Is Miss Woods there?"
"Yes?"
"Could you hand her the phone, please."
Clarke looked at Lexa in concern. "Gustus wants to speak with you." She handed Lexa
the phone and shuffled closer to watch her carefully as she raised the phone to her
ear.
"Hello, Gustus." Lexa said quietly into the phone. Clarke saw as Lexa's eyes
widened when Gustus began speaking, and soon enough Lexa's face was as pale as a
sheet and her entire body was tenser than Clarke had ever seen it. When she set the
phone down after mumbling a quiet thanks, Clarke saw that she was absolutely
terrified. In that moment, she forgot that Anya and Raven were watching; all that
mattered to her was the fact that Lexa was upset and needed consoling. She took
Lexa's hand into hers, gently, and Lexa neither moved away or looked up.
"What did he say?"
Lexa trembled slightly, and Clarke glanced at Anya and Raven cautiously. She nodded
her head towards the door, and the two women understood without question; together
they left the room, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone.
"Lexa, what is it?"
Lexa finally managed to calm herself down and she raised her eyes to meet Clarke's.
Clarke saw they were brimming with tears, but also noticed how determined Lexa was
to not allow them to fall.
"My parents are coming."
"When?"
"Gustus said they'll be here in less than an hour. I...I can't face them, Clarke,
and he says they know about the marriage and they're threatening me with just about
everything and the fact that they've been trying to reach me by phone for days
makes it even worse, they're going to be so mad--"
Clarke pulled Lexa closer by her hand and gently let go, only to wrap both arms
around Lexa to pull her into a hug.
"It'll be fine."
"I don't want to see them."
"You don't have to."
"What do you mean? They're coming here, Clarke." Lexa's voice was small and on the
verge of breaking, and Clarke felt anger rising up within her chest for the two
devils who claimed to be this beautiful angel's parents.
"We can leave."
"Where would we go?"
Clarke shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere. Away."

Lexa was silent for a while. She felt as though she was about to break. Just the
thought of seeing her parents made all the cracks in her being emerge again, and
she was sure she would've shattered were it not for Clarke's arms holding her in
place. Clarke was there and Clarke wasn't going anywhere.
"Could we?"
Clarke smiled gently and rubbed Lexa's back. "Of course."
Lexa chewed her lip. "I think I'm going to talk to them."
"Really?"
"Just a few words. I...if I leave without a trace they'll make a police report and
it'll be a whole load of legal bullshit."
"Are you sure you can do it?"
Lexa took a deep breath. "I gotta do it sometime, right?"
"We can sit in the car and wait for them and the second you want to go, we go. Ok?"
The brunette let out a deep sigh. "Ok. Let's do that."
"Raven! Anya!" Clarke called. The two women entered the room cautiously, curiosity
and concern written on their features.
"Lexa's parents are coming. We're leaving."
"What?" Raven exclaimed. "As in now?"
"As in they'll be here in an hour."
Raven groaned. "I _just_ unpacked."
"Raven..."
"I'm not saying no, I'm just saying an hour is not very much time."
"Then get to it, asshole." Clarke quipped. Raven grumbled and went her way, but
Anya remained there, peering at Clarke curiously. Clarke's arm was still around
Lexa, who was currently avoiding anyone's gaze and looking the smallest Anya had
ever seen her.
"Lexa, are you okay?" She asked quietly, concern evident in her voice.
The brunette nodded. "Yeah. I just want to leave."
"Do you want me to pack for you?"
"If you have the time."
"I'm already packed, I didn't have any time to unpack. Are we taking the wreck
that's in the middle of the driveway?"
"Hey, that’s my car and it's a beauty!" Raven yelled from the study. "Don't insult
my beautiful Gloria."
"Gloria?" Anya exclaimed, shaking her head. "This is going to be interesting."
* * *
Forty-five minutes later Raven's car was packed with bags and the remaining
leftovers of last night's feast and Anya and Raven. Clarke and Lexa stood in the
yard, waiting for a car to show up on the road ahead of them. Neither of them
spoke. Lexa was nervous to say the least; Clarke could see how pale she was, and
dared not speak lest she shatter the remaining slivers of Lexa's strength. When she
saw a black SUV running smoothly up the hills towards them, she felt her stomach
churn with fear. She didn't know what to expect. She'd only seen one picture of
Lexa's parents, and it had terrified her to the core. The thought of meeting them
in person was enough for Clarke to want to phase out of existence.
The SUV parked right in front of them, and Clarke held her breath for the slightest
moment when she waited for the doors to open.
From behind the tinted windows of the car emerged Mr. and Mrs. Woods, and Lexa's
blood froze in her veins when she saw the fury in her father's eyes.
"Alexandria, what is the meaning of this?"
Gone was the stony façade; her parents were furious and they did not care that they
had an audience. They did not care who would see. This terrified Lexa to no end,
and she felt herself wanting to cower and run for the hills. But she sucked in a
breath and stood strong, her chin up and her eyes staring blankly at her father.
She was not going to back down.
"This is my wife," Lexa said coldly, gesturing slightly at Clarke beside her.
Clarke now felt two sets of icy cold green eyes fixate on her, and for a moment she
genuinely feared for her life. Lexa's father looked as though he were seconds from
snapping her neck, while her mother appeared disgusted to the point of physical
illness.
"Wife? How--" Lexa's mother's voice came out as a hiss, dripping with venom which
made Clarke flinch despite the words not being directed at her. Lexa, however,
stood her ground and did not appear phased. Clarke wondered how bad it was for her
beneath the stoic mask.
She figured it was hellish.
"How did you manage to...to...to commit this abomination?" Lexa's father demanded.
"We should have been consulted, it cannot be legal, not when you're our
conservatee-"
"This marriage happened before you stripped me of my rights, father." Lexa snapped.
She had never interrupted her parents in her life. "It is completely legal, I can
assure you."
Now she had done it.

And her parents were livid.
"Alexandria, you have wronged us with this disgusting parody of matrimony, and we
will not have it. You're sick in the mind, Alexandria, you are not to give in to
your demons. Think of what it will do to us. What of our image!?"
"Do you think I give a shit about your image?" Lexa seethed. "I don't care about
you, Father, or you, Mother. You've ruined my life, and I have no desire to see you
ever again."
"We are your guardians, you cannot leave us."
"Actually, you're wrong."
"The paperwork is irrefutable."
"The paperwork includes the wonderful word 'spouse', Father. And a spouse stands
higher in the hierarchy than a parent. I am leaving with my wife, and I will never
see either one of you ever again."
"You're disgracing the entire family name, Alexandria." Her mother snarled, her
green eyes staring angrily into Lexa's. Lexa did not flinch, did not cower; she
answered her mother's glare with a fiery glare of her own, one which caused her
mother to take the slightest step back when she finally saw the true fury that had
resided within Lexa for far too long.
Lexa smiled victoriously, though it appeared almost devilish given her current
state of absolute fury and loathing for the two people before her.
"You care too much about image and too little about the fact that you are absolute
disgraces to humankind." Lexa seethed. "I have no desire to be affiliated with you
whatsoever."
"Have you no shame?"
"What shame!? The shame which you have worked all my life to force into me!?" Lexa
demanded loudly, her hand curling to a fist at her side. She was at her breaking
point now; tears were welling up in her eyes, and she was furious at herself for
not being strong enough. No matter what she did, her parents' could always break
her. They did so now, too. And she was just barely holding it together. "I have no
shame, yes, because there is _nothing_ wrong with who I am and _everything_ wrong
with who you two are."
She felt Clarke's hand touch her arm slightly, and uncurled her fist to allow
Clarke's hand to slip into hers. The gesture was gentle and slight, but it gave
Lexa the strength she needed to not break in front of her parents. The whole world
set in place when she felt Clarke's hand squeeze hers, and in that moment, she knew
she could carry out what she'd started.
"If you leave, you won't have any claim to our money. You know this." Her father’s
voice was threatening, shaking with the sheer anger that he was feeling. “You will
be disowned.”
"Like I care."
"How will you support yourself? You've never worked a day in your life."
"In case you forgot, you've been transferring plenty of money and assets into my
possession to avoid paying higher taxes for years. I'm quite certain I can live
quite comfortably with your dirty money."
"Alexandria, do not make this mistake."
"The only mistake I ever made was not leaving earlier," Lexa snapped. "I'm leaving,
and I will not have you involved in my life any longer. You've ruined enough of it
as it is."
"We could ruin you, Alexandria."
"Try. Watch me care. I could ruin you, too. I could bring down the whole family and
watch it burn, I don't care if I burn with it. I want nothing more than to never
see you again. I hate you. I wish I had been born to different parents, because you
were obviously never meant for anything but being sniveling, disgusting, disgraces
to humankind everywhere."
With that, Lexa turned on her heel and stormed off, pulling Clarke along with her.
Halfway to the car, however, Clarke wriggled herself away from Lexa's hold and
circled back to her parents.
"You disgust me," she seethed at them, "And I wish some pretty horrible things for
you. But I also want to thank you, because despite all your efforts to ruin Lexa,
she's this beautiful, magnificent woman who deserves better than you assholes. You
tried so hard to destroy her and yet she wasn't, because she is perfect and the
fact that she came from such evil like you will never cease to baffle me. You are
literally the worst scum of the earth and I cannot even believe you even exist.”
She turned to leave, but paused again, throwing them the most threatening and
furious look she could muster. “Oh, and if I so much as see either of you near my
wife, I will not hesitate to hurt you."
Lexa's mother gaped at her, her green eyes wide with shock and disgust, while
Lexa's father took a step closer, his fists curled so tight his knuckles were
white. Clarke, however, just smirked and turned on her heel, walking hurriedly back
to the car. She practically jumped into the backseat, and the second the door
slammed shut Raven sped the car away from the lodge and away from Lexa's parents.
Lexa sat in the backseat, curled up against the car door while sobs racked her
body. Anya and Raven sat out front, and Clarke threw them a quick glance before
shuffling over to sit beside Lexa. She placed a hand onto her shoulder as gently as
she could, and Lexa responded by turning and moving to lean against Clarke’s chest.
"See, you did it." Clarke murmured quietly as she wrapped her arms around Lexa.
"You said what you wanted to say."
Lexa wiped her tears and inhaled deeply. "Why are they so...why can't they just
understand?" Her voice was just barely above a whisper, and Clarke pulled her even
closer against her as she rested her head atop Lexa's and sighed. "How can they
hate me so much?"
"I don't know. But the good thing is you're away from them. We've got the whole
world ahead of us. They don't matter."
"This isn't the last I'll see of them." Lexa whimpered, tears welling up in her
eyes again. "They won't let something like this just drop."
"Then we'll be ready. You'll be ready, Lexa."
Lexa just winced and buried her face in Clarke's neck, allowing the tears to fall
silently as she tried to overcome the overwhelming sensation that had set into her
heart the moment she'd seen her parents. She had been terrified to the point of
death; but when she'd opened her mouth, she had been so furious it had scared her,
and now she was reeling from all those intense emotions and trying to contain
herself and failing miserably.
Clarke's hand was rubbing circles on her shoulder, and for a long while, she just
cried. Clarke let her; she did not speak, did not try to get Lexa to calm down. She
allowed her to feel whatever she was feeling, because she knew that Lexa needed to
cry.
She needed to let this out.
After a while, Lexa's sobs ceased, but the brunette made no attempt to move away
from Clarke. If anything, she seemed to nuzzle herself even closer, and Clarke
leaned into her, settling the two of them comfortably enough in the cramped
backseat of Raven’s age-old Toyota. It wasn't too warm in Raven's car, and so she
reached behind her head and pulled out the blanket she'd placed there earlier. The
blanket she draped over Lexa and herself, and sighed contently when she felt warmth
envelop the two of them.
"Thank you, Clarke." Lexa mumbled. Clarke could feel her breath tickling against
her neck, and fought to keep her pulse steady. This was of no use, because she felt
Lexa’s good arm slip around her waist and tighten around her, and her heart just
barely evaded cardiac arrest. She thought Lexa was going to speak, but instead, she
soon felt the tension in Lexa's shoulders disappear and heard her breathing even
out.
Anya glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight. Lexa was tightly pressed
against Clarke's chest, her face nuzzled in the blonde's neck, the blanket covering
the two of them and hiding Lexa's face almost completely.
"Is she asleep?" Clarke mouthed.
Anya nodded. "You don't have to whisper, once Lexa's out you'll need a megaphone to
wake her." She said in a hushed voice.
Raven glanced over at the backseat in the rearview mirror, and smirked. "Still
think the divorce is a good idea, Griffin?"
Clarke rolled her eyes. "Do you want to end up in a lake again?"
"No."
"Good."
"Where are we headed?"
"I dunno. I didn't have time to plan that far."
"Ok. Oregon or Idaho? Your pick."
Clarke made a face. "I don't want to pick."
"Anya?"
"I don't have too many winter clothes, so I'd prefer heading south."
"Oregon it is." Raven nodded. "Maybe we'll head down to California. Never been."
"Sounds good."
"It's 3pm now. We should think about where we'll be sleeping." Anya pointed out.
"I figured we'd just find a motel somewhere."
"That may work on the East Coast, but we're in the middle of nowhere. There isn't
another town on this road for an hour. We need to plan so we don’t get stuck in the
middle of the woods."
"Eh, we'll think about that later. Spontaneous road trip, right?" Raven grinned.
Clarke smiled and rested her head back against Lexa's. The brunette was sleeping
soundly, her breaths even and her body limp and relaxed against Clarke's.
"That was pretty intense." Anya commented after a while. They were now driving in
the middle of the woods; they had briefly entered a tiny town, but that had passed
and now they'd been admiring the same scenery for at least half an hour.
"Yeah," Clarke sighed.
"I'm proud of her."
"Huh?"
"She's never stood up to her parents before. I'm not surprised she's exhausted,
it's a big deal."
"She's stronger than all of us, I think."
"She had to be."
Clarke wondered how much Anya knew about Lexa's parents and her life. She didn't
even know who Anya was, not really. All she knew was that Anya was Lexa's best and
only friend and that she worked under her mom.
"What did she mean when she said she'd ruin them?"
Anya was quiet for a while. "She...her parents aren't exactly perfect citizens.
There has been some fraud, some blackmail...Lexa could probably try and bring them
to court for that. But I don't think she will."
"Why not?"
"It's not worth the risk of having her entire life pummeled to the ground by her
parents' legal excellence."
Clarke was quiet for a while. "Do you think she'll be okay?"
Anya looked at her, and Clarke saw an amused flicker in those hazel eyes. "I'm
certain that if you stick by her side, she'll be just fine."
Clarke blushed then, and fell completely silent. Raven let out a little chuckle,
and held out her hand for Anya to high-five.
"Clearly we have the same goal, sister." Raven laughed. Anya laughed as well, and
Clarke rolled her eyes.
Lexa shifted slightly against Clarke, and for a moment the blonde thought she was
waking up. But the brunette just sighed in her sleep, and Clarke felt Lexa's arm
pull her even closer, causing the falling sensation in Clarke's gut to return
again.
Lexa was comfortable, as was Clarke.
Lexa was safe.
This was the second time in 24 hours that Lexa had been sleeping on her, and god,
Clarke could not even begin to understand why it made her feel as good as it did.
She felt her face flush, and glanced at Raven to see that she was eyeing her via
the mirror and smirking like only Raven Reyes could.
"Raven, stop it."
"What? I was just checking the traffic behind us."
"There is no traffic. We're in the middle of nowhere."
"You two are cute."
"Hush. She's sleeping."
"She's sleeping like a baby. I'm sure if I blasted the radio on full volume she
wouldn't wake up."
"Let's not try." Clarke murmured. She wanted to let Lexa rest as much as she could,
while she could. She deserved this little moment of solace.
The rest of the drive was quiet and calm. They played some basic on-the-road games,
ranging from 20 questions to 'I spy' and random spouts of Jeopardy. Lexa slept
through it all, for all of the four hours they drove that day, and Clarke couldn't
help but wonder how exhausting meeting her parents had been for the brunette. She
couldn’t help but absent-mindedly draw circles onto Lexa’s back or twirl her brown
locks between her fingers; it felt so natural for her, having Lexa sleeping on her,
too normal - and that scared her.
The sun had just set when they finally came across a decent-looking motel near a
small town, and they decided it was as good a place as any to spend the night.
Raven and Anya headed inside to get them rooms while Clarke gently woke Lexa up.
"Lexa, hey." She said softly, nudging the brunette gently. "Wakey wakey."
With a groan, Lexa sat up and opened her eyes. "Where are we?" She slurred, her
drowsy eyes running lazily along the courtyard of the motel.
"I don't know. Four hours away from Polis, at least." Clarke shrugged. "You slept
the whole way."
Lexa groaned as she tried to massage the crick in her neck. "You shouldn't have let
me. My neck hurts."
"You were so fast asleep I'm pretty sure nothing could've roused you."
Raven tapped at the window of the car, jangling two sets of keys in her hands.
Clarke and Lexa followed her to an adjacent building, where they found themselves
in a relatively okay room with two single beds, a brown and pink striped wallpaper
and hideous 80's style furniture.
"Couldn't get you two a double bed, apparently these two were the only ones
available." Raven said apologetically. "Our room is two doors down from here. We
were thinking about heading down to town for dinner in a bit."
"Yeah, just fetch us when you're leaving." Clarke said quietly before closing the
door.
Lexa was sitting on the bed, and for the first time since Gustus had called to
inform the devils were coming into town, Clarke saw her smile.
"I got away." Lexa said softly, as though she were in disbelief. "I left."
Clarke smiled as she walked over to sit on her own bed, across from Lexa. "Yeah,
you did. How does freedom feel?"
"Fucking amazing."
"That's good." Clarke chuckled. "So...you're okay?"
Lexa flinched slightly. "I...I don't understand how it can hurt me. I yelled at
them, I was angry at them, and it hurt _me_. I don't love them, I never have. Why
does it hurt?"
"It hurts because you held it in too long, Lexa. It was too much emotion to handle
at once."
The brunette smiled again, and Clarke couldn't help but return the smile. "You were
pretty badass, though. You didn't flinch or waver before them, and I could've sworn
you scared your mom a little."
Lexa chuckled. "I've never done that before. It felt weird."
"But good weird, right?"
"Yeah. I felt powerful."
Silence.
"Clarke?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For staying."
Clarke furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"
"You could've left me and not chosen to deal with this whole shitty situation. But
you didn't, and now I'm here, away from them and I'm so happy and just...thank
you."
Clarke's face flushed. "Uh...you're welcome."
> CROSS-COUNTRY ROADTRIP

> im literally throwing every single one of my fave fanfic tropes in here but who
cares it'll be great
> i feel so bad for lexa and this chap was a little more angsty but i try to keep
this light with just a few shadows here and there
> not to mention it gave them a great excuse to cuddle
> don't forget to come say hi to me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear i love hearing from
you guys
12. Chapter 12
> a few of you have commented saying that your own parents resemble lexa's parents
and let me tell you i just want to wrap you all in one big blanket and take you all
away from such assholes, I'm y'all's mom now lmao
> i can now confirm that Ranya is definitely happening the chemistry just hit me
like a punch i know it's a little weird ship cause they never interact on-screen
but it works here
> this fic has taken me places i didn't expect but im loving every step of the
way :)
Dinner was pleasant and surprisingly chill. Raven spent most of the time debating
with Clarke and Anya about just anything she could think of, and all three made
sure to include Lexa in the conversation wherever they could. Lexa was mostly
withdrawn to herself, and all of them understood. None of them forced her to
partake, but rather gave her the space she quite obviously needed and offered her
ways into the conversation so that she felt included.
Though she no longer felt like crying or running away, Lexa was still reeling from
the events that had occurred not five hours ago.
She had yelled at her parents; seethed, snarled, spat at them, let out all the
anger that had been building up within her heart for too many years. She had
left her parents behind, with no intention of ever going back. She had said so much
of what she'd kept held deeply within herself behind pursed lips, nails dug in
palms and forced smiles, and it was overwhelming to say the least. She felt
panicked and afraid; she was sure her parents were livid to say the least, and
could not stop thinking about the eventual repercussions that she knew she couldn’t
avoid.
But she also felt so incredibly relieved she was dizzy and light-headed as though
she were slightly drunk.
Not to mention she had never been on a road trip before. She had never really had
friends or had light dinner conversation that flowed with ease and did not consist
of tight forced smiles and politely phrased comments on politics or legal matters.
That was probably the weirdest thing of them all; she was sitting in some cheap
small-town italian restaurant, a group of friends around her, talking happily and
freely and smiling so brightly she couldn't help but smile as well.
“Don’t worry about your parents,” Clarke murmured quietly to her as Raven and Anya
proceeded to argue about the latest episode of some murder show neither Clarke or
Lexa watched. “You left them behind.”
“But they will do something,” Lexa muttered, briefly wondering whether Clarke had
just read her mind. “I just…I’ve dragged not only you but Raven and Anya into this,
and I can’t stop thinking about what’ll happen to you.”
“Don’t worry. My life is already pretty crap, as is Raven’s. And Anya’s your best
friend, Lexa, I don’t think you could exclude her from this even if you wanted to.
You don’t have to carry the whole world on your shoulders.”
Lexa smiled gently, but kept her eyes fixed at her hands in her lap. Clarke huffed
in frustration and grabbed Lexa’s hand, lacing her fingers with Lexa’s.
“Come on, Lexa. Loosen up. Whatever your idiot parents decide to throw at us, we
can manage. Together, ok?”
Lexa stared at Clarke for a while before nodding. “Ok.”
_Together._
Anya and Raven shared a pointed look when they noticed Clarke's and Lexa's
interlocked hands and their feeble attempt at hiding them under the table. But
neither of them said anything, knowing the pair would just glare and grumble curses
at them. After dinner, the girls made their way back to the motel, where Lexa
practically collapsed into bed and fell asleep within minutes. Clarke stayed up for
a while, contemplating whether she should call her mother. She was just about to
set her phone down and go to sleep when she heard a gentle knock on the door.
“Anya?”
The woman acknowledged her with a slight nod. “Can we talk? Outside?
Clarke grabbed her coat and keys from the chair beside her and walked out, shutting
the door carefully behind herself.
“What’s up?”
Anya took her by the arm and led her to a picnic table nearby, where she promptly
sat Clarke down before sitting down herself across from her. Clarke now saw that
she looked determined, a little scary even; there was an intense look in her eye
which Clarke could not understand.
“I want to talk to you about Lexa.”
Clarke nodded. She’d figured that this talk was coming at some point, and was
actually surprised that Anya had waited this long. “Okay.”
“Do you love her?”
Clarke’s eyes widened. “Wow, straight to the point.”
“Do you? Because Lexa may be strong but she lets her guard down with you, and I
won’t have you wrecking her. She doesn’t deserve that pain.”
“I…I don’t know yet.”
“Do you want a divorce?”
Clarke just stared at her, fumbling with her hands and unable to answer.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“You don’t want a divorce?”

Clarke shook her head, now determined. “No.”
“Then for god’s sakes tell her because I can tell you, she’s wrecking her mind over
this.”
“I can’t tell her.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t be with her.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t be good for her.”
Anya rolled her eyes and repeated her question for the third time. “Why not?”
“I…I’ve never loved anyone.” Clarke muttered. “How can I know I can love her?”
“Oh, fucking shit.” Anya groaned. “You’re just as much a disaster as she is.”
“I can’t commit myself to her if I’m not sure I can love her like she deserves to
be loved. You can understand that, right?”
The woman before her nodded, though she looked annoyed to say the least. “I get
that. But you’re hurting Lexa nevertheless. And I won’t stand to see her hurt.”
“I’m trying to not destroy her completely,” Clarke snapped. “I need to be sure, for
my sake and hers.”
“When will you know that you’re sure? Because I suggest you figure yourself out
soon, because there’s only so much that Lexa can take. With anyone else, she’s
strong, but you’ve gotten under her skin. She’s _let_ you in, and if you screw that
up you’ll screw her up forever.”
“That’s what I’m trying to avoid.” Clarke muttered. “Just give me time, ok? I have
no intention of hurting Lexa.”
“You’re hurting yourself, too. You should talk to someone.”
“I’ve talked to Raven.”
“I’m saying you should talk to your mother.”
Clarke gaped at Anya, having forgotten about the fact that she knew her mother.
“Why do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Because she’s known you all your life, Clarke. If someone can help you figure out
your heart, it’s her.”
With that, Anya stood. “I’m warning you this one time, Clarke. Don’t break Lexa, or
I will hurt you.”
Clarke watched her walk away. The woman was intimidating to say the least, and she
half wondered how Lexa could be her friend. But she had also seen how tender Anya
was with Lexa, how much she resembled a big sister to her; not to mention the fact
that she had just ferociously threatened to hurt her if she hurt Lexa just proved
that Anya cared deeply for Lexa.
Clarke knew Anya was right, and it bothered her that someone she barely knew
appeared to know her mind better than she knew herself. With a begrudging groan,
she dialed the first number on her speed dial, and tapped the table nervously as
she waited for the call to go through.
“Clarke!”
“Hi, Mom.”
“It’s been _two weeks,_ Clarke, and I haven’t heard a thing from you. What happened
to ‘I’ll call you every week’?”
“Something happened, Mom, ok? A lot of things, actually. I need you to sit down.”
“What’s wrong, Clarke? You sound weird.”
Clarke sighed. “Mom, just sit down, ok?”
“Ok, I’m sitting down.”
“Finn and I broke up three weeks ago.”
“Oh, Clarke. I can’t say that I’m surprised. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine about it. But…uh…”
“Clarke?”
“I don’t know how to say this, Mom.”
“What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“You know how I went to Vegas with Octavia for her bachelorette party?”
“In February, yes.” Abby said on the other end. “Oh no, don’t tell me you got
pregnant.”
“Mom, it’s been nine months since Vegas. I’d have a baby by now if I’d gotten
pregnant.”
“Then what is it?”
“I got married. In Vegas.”
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end. “M-married?”
“Yes, Mom, married.”
“To who?”
“Her name is Lexa.”
“A girl?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not.” Abby said quickly. “Forgive me for being surprised, but I
recall you saying that you’d ‘never date women again’ after your breakup with your
last girlfriend.”
“It’s not like I planned on getting married.”
“You got married by accident? Clarke, that doesn’t happen.”
“I was drunk, she was drunk, and apparently you don’t need to be sober to get
married in Vegas.”
“Why are you calling me now? It’s been nine months, Clarke. Why could you keep this
from me for so long?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You what?”
“I was so drunk I couldn’t remember anything the next morning. I only found out
because Lexa got into an accident a little over a week ago and the hospital called
me because I’m her next of kin.”
Abby was quiet for a long while. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.”
“Are you with her now? Where are you? Are you in New York?”
“Uh…it’s a long story.”
“Tell me.”
And Clarke did. She told her mother everything from the first call to the flight
over to Washington, and the first time she’d seen Lexa; she told her how Lexa had
thought she was an angel, how they’d originally decided on a divorce, but how her
plans had changed when she’d heard about Lexa’s parents. She told her mother how
she felt about Lexa; how Lexa’s smile made her whole world light up, how just her
voice was enough to calm her down, how everything about her person and mind was so
incredibly beautiful that it left Clarke wondering whether she was even real.
By the end, five minutes had passed, and Abby remained silent for a long time.
“Clarke, honey. You’re obviously in love with her. Or at least falling.”
“I don’t know how to love.”
“It’s not a skill that is acquired, Clarke. You know how to love, I know you do.
And you love Lexa.”
“But what do I do?”
“You tell her.”
“What if she doesn’t love me?”
“What if she does?” Abby retorted, frustration evident in her voice. “What if she
does love you, Clarke? Don’t you think you deserve happiness?”
Clarke didn’t reply.
“Clarke, I’m your mother. It’s killed me to see you continuously destroy your heart
over your supposed incapacity for love. But this Lexa…I’ve never heard you talk
about anyone like you do about her, and you sound so happy.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad.”
“Mad?”
“You knew you were married for almost a week before gathering the courage to tell
me. I’m your _mother_ , Clarke.”
“I…I didn’t know what I was going to do. I thought I’d call you once I’d figured
that out.”
“Do you know now?”
Clarke sighed. “I guess.”
“Good. Bring her home for Thanksgiving.”
“Mo-om…”
“She’s my daughter-in-law, I want to meet her. You can’t deny me that.

Thanksgiving’s in a bit over a week.”
“Can I bring some friends, too?”
“What?”
“We’re sort of on a road trip right now.”
“You what!?”
“Lexa’s parents showed up so we left.”
“Who’s with you?”
“Raven and Anya.”
“Anya?”
“The same one who works for you, yes.”
“That’s a strange coincidence.”
“I gotta go, Mom, I’m getting cold.”
“Ok. I love you, Clarke.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
* * *
A few days passed, and by Saturday the 'wreck' Gloria had wheeled it's way all the
way from northern Washington down to Venice Beach in sunny California. Although it
was only about a week until Thanksgiving, the sun was still warm; none of the four,
except for Anya, had any clothes which could accommodate what to them felt like
surging heat after the chilly winds of Washington and Oregon.
The girls had settled into a comfortable routine by this time; Anya and Raven had
quickly grown to be co-conspirators and Clarke and Lexa had suffered direly at
their hands, ranging from 'accidentally' arranging for a double bed instead of two
singles to blatantly taking pictures of Clarke and Lexa whenever they were having a
'moment'.
Clarke was yet to figure out just how she was going to tell Lexa about her
feelings. She was testing the waters, trying to see whether Lexa felt the same, but
in her desperation for reciprocal feelings she managed to convince that each smile
and kind gesture didn’t have as much meaning as she thought.
_You’re just seeing things_ , she told herself, _reading too much into her
actions. It’s too soon for her to be feeling anything._
"Where should we go next?" Raven asked. They were all sitting in a café on the
Santa Monica pier, enjoying the warmth and delicious churros provided by the stand
nearby. "Vegas, anyone?"
Clarke and Lexa groaned at the same time. "No way."
"Never again."
"Ok, so Nevada's off the list. How about Mexico?"
"Pass."
“We should start heading towards the East Coast, I think.”
"Arizona's the only option left, then."
"Heading for Phoenix?" Anya suggested. "Lexa's got a property there."
"What!?"
Lexa shrugged. She was pretty shy about her wealth, especially around Raven and
Clarke who clearly had significantly different economic standings than herself.
"Yeah. It's just an apartment, though."
“D’you have the keys?”
Lexa pulled out her keys from her pocket. “I’ve got all of them right here.”
"Free accommodation. We're going." Raven decided. "You guys have anything else you
want to do in LA?"
All three shook their heads. "Ok, let's go then." Clarke said, standing up. "Maybe
we'll take a few churros for the road. That's reasonable, right?"
Lexa laughed gently as Raven and Clarke hurried over to stand in line while she and
Anya walked back to the car.
"How's Clarke?"
She glanced at Anya and sighed. "She's...Clarke."

"How are things progressing with her? Divorce? No divorce?"
"We haven't really talked about it."
"You've been avoiding it, haven't you?"
"What if she wants the divorce and I tell her I don't? I don’t want to screw things
up with her."
"Have you seen the way Clarke looks at you?"
"I don't know--"
"When she sees you it's like her whole face lights up. It's kind of disgusting, but
I'm happy that it's for you."
Lexa smiled. "I'm giving her time."
"What if she's giving you time?"
"Anya, be patient."
"I can't believe you can be so calm about this."
Lexa shrugged. "I'm happy as it is."
"But you want more."
"Maybe."
"Then ask for more."
"Maybe later."
The drive to Phoenix went along smoothly; Anya and Raven sat in the back while
Clarke drove and Lexa sat shotgun. The radio station was Lexa’s choice, and she’d
chosen some random one which kept playing 'ancient' late 00's music ranging from
Madonna to Britney Spears.
“Lexa, I can’t believe you picked this station. I have no desire to reminisce about
my high school days.” Raven groaned.
“What? It’s the best option available.” Lexa defended, throwing a playful glare at
Raven.
"Oh, god, please change the station." Raven groaned as Madonna's Jump started
playing. "Please."
Clarke laughed when she recalled the reason why Raven was in such pains. "Don't
change the station," she said to Lexa, "Let her suffer."
"Why's she suffering? It's a good song."
"This is the song that was playing when Raven lost her virginity."
Both Lexa and Anya laughed then, as did Clarke, and Raven just groaned and begged
them to change the station.
"I'm having flashbacks," she whined, "Please, Clarke, I _told_ you how bad it was.
This is inhumane torture."
"What, about the fifteen-second wonder?"
"More like the hour-long awkward fumbling and pathetic attempt to undo my bra."
Raven grumbled, shuddering at the thought. "He wasn't even that hot. God, I made a
bad choice."
"I think we can all say our first was a bad choice." Clarke chimed. "Just bask in
your pain, Raven, and remember all the good sex that came after those cringeworthy
first years."
"Oh you don't want to know about that, not when you'll be confined to my lovin'
wagon for the next weeks. You do not want to know how freaky I've gotten in here."
"Oh, god." Anya groaned. "Please don't continue."
"If Lexa doesn't change the channel this instant, I will."
“Fine, but the only other option is country music."
"I'll take country music over this pain anyday."
"Fine."
It took them about twenty seconds to decide that country music was not a choice
either, and Lexa turned off the radio altogether.
“I’m hungry.” Raven whined.
“We literally just ate an hour ago.” Clarke groaned. “You ate an entire burger and
fries, and my fries too.”
“Your fault for being so slow at eating.” Raven grumbled as she sat up and turned
around to rummage in the back for anything edible. A satisfied ‘ha’ signaled that
she’d hit the jackpot, and a moment later she was stuffing her face with Doritos
with a satisfied smile on her face.
“Is your stomach ever satisfied?” Anya groaned. “You’ve been eating non-stop ever
since I met you, and that was four days ago. You'll get diabetes or have a heart
attack before you turn 30.”
“My genius brain burns more calories than all of you combined.” Raven retorted,
tossing a chip that hit Anya's forehead. “I need to eat more to make sure I can
keep serving this snarky realness for you lovelies.”
“Or maybe you’re just a slob and a food junkie.” Clarke commented. “The only reason
you don’t get gloriously fat is because you seem to be in God’s good graces, which
I will never understand.”
“Nah, I sold my soul to Satan to be able to eat all I want without ever dying of
obesity.”
* * *
They were about an hour away from Phoenix when their two-hour long game of I spy
finally came to a standstill, giving Clarke the chance to finally voice a question
that had been bothering her for some time.
“Hey, Lexa.”
“Hm?”
“You told me your parents didn’t let you have any friends.”
“Yeah?”
“Then how are you friends with Anya?”
“I was friends with Anya way before they found out about…you know.” Lexa shrugged.
“Her mom’s my mom’s ‘best friend’, although all they really do is compete at who
can be the biggest bitch.”
"Or try to woo potential donations from the same investors for their own respective
charity causes." Anya added.
“You’re rich, too?” Raven gasped, feigning shock by clutching at her chest
dramatically. “Fuck, I’m starting to feel like a minority of one here.”
“Hey, I’m poor too!” Clarke quipped. “It’s 50/50.”
“You’re married to an heiress, you’re not poor. Sorry, Clarke, them’s the rules.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “So you’ve known each other for a long time?”
“I was five when I first met her. She was the most _annoying_ two year old you
could ever imagine," Anya smiled. Lexa rolled her eyes and sunk deeper into her
seat.
“I was two.” She muttered to herself. Clarke smiled brightly when she tried to
imagine a baby Lexa. Whether or not her mental image was accurate did not matter;
she was cute nonetheless.
“So I basically hated her until I was eight and she was five and we were stuck on a
political rally tour for four weeks together with nothing to do. She thought I was
the coolest person and kept following me and so I just gave up.” Anya explained,
her tone of voice somehow amused and almost playful. "Even then she was as stubborn
as now, only add a shrill, skull-piercing voice to the mix."
"I can imagine."
“How about you? How’d you meet Raven?”
Clarke groaned. “Raven, you wanna take this one?”
Raven was in her element; her eyes lit up as she sat up straight and prepared to
detail once again the trainwreck of events that led to her and Clarke’s friendship.
“Ok, so this was like four years ago. I was finishing up my mechanics and
engineering degree and Clarke was…doing whatever she was, and I’d just moved to a
new apartment. I met this dude in the elevator. He was kinda sleazy and annoying,
but he was also relatively hot. He said he was single and visiting town for a day,
so when he asked me if I wanted to come up to his friend’s place for some coffee I
went for it. Anyway, fast forward an hour and I’m being screwed by this Finn dude
when his girlfriend walks in on us and screams and drops all her shit to the
floor.” Raven paused slightly for dramatic effect, and noticed both Lexa and Anya
staring at her intently. “And now, children, who can guess that girlfriend’s name?”
She waited for either of them to answer, and after a while, Lexa raised her hand
slightly. “Clarke?”
“Good, ten points to Hufflepuff.” Raven smiled, tossing Lexa a Skittle. “Yes, it
was indeed Clarke, and when I realized that Finny-boy had screwed me and her over,
I did what any good girl does: I kicked his ass and threw him out of the apartment
with nothing but a sheet to cover is naked ass. And then I of course went over to
Clarke and did my best to console her while wearing nothing but a sheet, and she
was upset for a while but then she just got mad at Finn and before long she was
laughing her ass off at the fact that I’d kicked him out. And then I suggested we
get drinks to celebrate and she said yes and that, children, is how we became the
best of friends.”
Clarke glanced at the rear view mirror could see the astonishment in Lexa’s and
Anya’s eyes, and couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it? My first
introduction to this asshole was her naked ass kicking my boyfriend’s naked ass out
of my apartment.”
“It’s pretty cool.” Lexa said after a while. She couldn't help the fact that her
mind was fixated on this Finn; she found herself wanting to know more about
Clarke’s past, but especially about Finn. More to the point, she wanted to know
just how shit he had been to Clarke.
She didn't, of course, realize that the burning feeling in her chest was jealousy.
Thankfully, Lexa did not have to ask anything about Finn, because the next second
Anya cleared her throat and asked: “So was that the last you saw of Finn?”
Clarke shook her head. “No.”
“You didn’t dump him?”
Lexa saw now that Clarke’s jaw was clenched and her hands were gripping the
steering wheel tightly, and figured the topic was sensitive. She was about to tell
Anya to drop it when Raven spoke.
“Finn is a dick, let’s just start with that. He and Clarke had the most tumultuous
on-and-off relationship I’ve ever seen. She dumped him like five times, but each
time he came crawling back and Clarke, being the idiot that she is, took him back.”
“The last time was just because I couldn’t afford my rent on my own, though.”
Clarke sighed, throwing a pointed glance at Lexa. She felt like she needed to give
her at least some form of an explanation. “I…he was nice enough, when he wasn’t
fucking other girls. And he was easy. No feelings whatsoever.”
_He was better than being alone._
“You’re not with him still, are you?”
“I told you, Lexa, there aren’t any boyfriends or girlfriends. Remember?”
“I forgot.”
“Right. Where’s your house again?” Clarke asked as they came to a red light in the
outskirts of Phoenix.
Lexa shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Then how are we supposed to find it?”
“Anya knows. I let her borrow it last year.”
“Take the next left.” Anya instructed her. “It’s just around the corner from here.”
The apartment was a fancy loft on the outskirts of Phoenix, with three bedrooms and
a wonderfully executed interior design plan. It was quite obvious that no one had
been there for a while; although Lexa said that a cleaning crew came in every other
week to keep it clean, it was still somehow hollow and void of life.
They ordered pizza and had a lovely night in, watching mindless shows and just
chattering about everything and anything. Lexa retired into the only armchair with
her book after a while, and Clarke couldn’t help but steal glances at the brunette
more often than she would’ve liked to admit. Raven only teased her about it twice
or thrice, but even so, Clarke couldn't stop.
Around midnight Raven passed out on the couch and was carried to bed by Anya and
Clarke, after which Clarke returned to the living room to find Lexa asleep in the
chair. Her book had fallen to the floor, the cover shut and the page where she’d
been lost. Her arm hung over the edge, her fingertips just grazing the soft carpet
on the floor, and Clarke noticed a satisfied smile on her sleeping face.
Anya smiled at her as she made her way across the living room to her bedroom. “You
can take her to bed. I call dibs on the second bedroom.”
Clarke groaned. It was either the couch or Lexa’s bed for her, and she wasn’t so
sure which she should choose.
Carefully as she could, she crouched beside Lexa and shook her awake. The brunette
groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, bringing her hand up to swat Clarke away.
“Lemme sleep.” Lexa whined.
“In a second, once I get you to bed.” Clarke said determinedly. “Come on, up.”
Lexa grumbled and pushed herself up, but she was so sleepy and unstable that she
stumbled into Clarke.
“Whoa, careful.” Clarke mumbled as she wrapped an arm around Lexa’s waist and felt
her body lean heavily against her own. “Come on, let’s go.”
She managed to maneuver Lexa to the bedroom and into bed with little to no struggle
from the brunette. She sat on Lexa’s bedside for a bit, contemplating where she’d
sleep, and ultimately decided on the couch.
Lexa watched her carefully, and voiced the thought in her mind quietly after a
while. “You’re sleeping on the couch, aren’t you?”
Clarke nodded. “Yeah. Figured you need your beauty sleep without my wrangling arms
suffocating you.”
Lexa chuckled and sat up in the bed. “Well, then, good night.” And then she leaned
in and pressed a soft kiss onto Clarke’s cheek before falling back down to her
back. Clarke sat there, stunned, for a few slight seconds before darting to her
feet and hurrying out of the room. Her entire face felt hot, and the spot where
Lexa’s lips had touched her cheek burned like fire.
But it didn’t hurt.
Anything but that.
She fell down into the couch and groaned loudly into a pillow. This wasn’t working.
Lexa was stealing her heart and she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She
didn’t even know if there was anything she _could_ do.
She fell asleep soon after, but was roused not an hour later by a gentle hand
shaking her awake. She blinked rapidly to try and figure out who it was, but it was
dark in the loft. Even so, she recognized Lexa’s perfume, and frowned.
“Lexa? What-“
“I can’t sleep.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Can I sleep here?”
The straightforwardness of the request left Clarke completely void of any

functionality, and Lexa smiled when she saw her shuffle a little ways to the left,
rendered speechless. Without saying anything, Clarke held out her hands, and Lexa
laid down into her arms. Her body pressed on top of Clarke’s, and Clarke did not
know what to do to calm her racing heart. She wasn’t so sure whether she was
dreaming or awake, only that her heart was beating so loudly in her chest she could
barely hear anything else. But she did not push Lexa away; instead, she wrapped her
arms around Lexa’s waist and moved her so that she laid more comfortably on her
chest and pulled the blanket over the two of them.
“This is nice.” She murmured, already feeling herself slipping back to sleep. Lexa
smiled and laid her head onto Clarke’s shoulder, her face nuzzling into the crook
of Clarke’s neck. When she inhaled, she could smell Clarke and it was intoxicating
to say the least. Her hairs tickled her skin, and Lexa sighed after a while in a
way that made that made Clarke’s entire existence shudder.
“Good night, Clarke.” Lexa whispered.
“Good night, Lexa.”
> lexa is a fucking hufflepuff fight me

> and anya is definitely lexa's big sister/mama bear and she's ready to protect her
baby raccoon cub with all her might
> also, on a scale of 1-10 how frustratingly in denial are clarke and lexa?
13. Chapter 13
> lexa is def a hufflepuff but more of a badass puff like Tonks ya know (i mean
ideally she'd be gryffinpuff but hufflepuff is def part of her cause she's just a
softie)
> ranya shit happens, clexa shit happens, and someone gets upset - try to figure
out who ;)
> NOTE: you might get a heart attack, get your Lesbian Life Alert™ ready and make
sure to take breaks so u dont die i dont want to be responsible for ur deaths
“Oh my god, Anya, come quick and tell me I’m not hallucinating.”
Anya groaned when she was so rudely awakened by an overly enthusiastic Raven’s
hands shoving and poking at her sides. She grabbed a pillow from her side and threw
it at Raven, who scoffed and continued poking her.
“Anya, get up.”
“Go away.” Anya groaned, burying her face into her pillow and swatting at Raven to
go make her go away.
“Anya, you have to get up now I think I’m having a stroke.”
The woman in the bed proceeded to pull the covers over her head. “Fuck off, Raven.”
“Either you get up now or I’m jumping on you, and I guarantee you, I’m heavier than
I look."
Anya snapped up quickly, and neither she nor Raven seemed to pay much notice the
fact that she was entirely topless. Raven’s face was flustered, her eyes darting
around like those of an excited puppy, her grin not wavering even when Anya glared
at her angrily. She was definitely not a morning person, especially not now when
she was still partially settled in Senegal-time.
Anya half wanted to wring Raven's neck for waking her up, but there was something
that prevented her from doing so.
Perhaps it was the fact that Raven was pretty adorable.
If not equally as infuriating.
“What?” Her voice came out low and husky, just barely above a growl. She was
thirsty and her throat was drier than a desert.
“Come. Now.”
Anya grabbed a shirt from where she’d discarded it some point during the night and
followed Raven into the living room, grumbling curses under her breath.
The sight that she came across caused her jaw to drop to the floor. There, on the
couch, laid Clarke and Lexa, completely entangled within one another and fast
asleep. They were so thoroughly in each other's arms that their blonde and brunette
hair was one mess, and Lexa’s face was hidden entirely in Clarke’s neck. Clarke’s
arms were so tightly around Lexa that it was almost as though she were trying to
protect her, and the smile spread onto her face was almost too pure to be true.
Lexa’s cast arm rested on the side, while her good hand was clutching the collar of
Clarke's t-shirt; not enough to be choking her, but enough for it to look as though
Lexa were clinging onto Clarke like a baby koala. The blanket that had at some
point covered them had fallen to the floor, and Anya now padded gently over to
drape it over the two of them.
“Anya, don’t—“ Raven whispered. But Anya managed to do it so quietly that the pair
did not wake up, and she then ushered Raven out of the living room and into the
bedroom.
“Let them sleep.” She said quietly.

"Oh my god oh my god-" Raven gasped, hopping around from one foot another while
trying to contain herself. Anya found herself staring at her, and once again,
found an uncanny resemblance in Raven to a five-year-old child. "Holy fucking shit,
this is gold."
"Raven, calm down."
“That…we didn’t have anything to do with that, right?” Raven wondered aloud, still
astonished.
"Not to my knowledge."
"Why are they on the couch?"
“I’d figure Clarke was sleeping on the couch and Lexa decided to sleep there too,
for whatever reason.”
“She’d…that’s ridiculous, how can they not realize they’re in love?” Raven groaned.
“This is frustrating.”
“Give them time.” Anya chuckled, amused at the frustrated brunette before her.
“Lexa is just about the most patient person in the world. She would wait years if
she had to, even if it tears her apart.”
“But Clarke is such an _idiot,_ ” Raven huffed. “I just want to smush their faces
together, you know?”
Anya could not believe how shameless Raven was. She seemed to have no inhibitions
whatsoever, and it was delightful to be around a person like that.
She was refreshing.
If not incredibly infuriating as well.
“Their faces are pretty smushed together right now, if you think of it.”
“True.” Raven sighed. “How long are we supposed to wait in here? It’s like midday,
we should get going.”
“I was thinking we could take the day to rest here. I need to take Lexa to a
hospital to get a checkup and a new cast.”
Raven nodded. “Then let’s go wake the lovebirds up.”
Anya followed quietly as Raven barged into the living room, storming past the couch
and heading to the kitchen where she began making as much noise as humanly
possible. Soon enough, Clarke awoke with a groan, and nudged Lexa awake gently,
feeling her stomach do continuous flips as she became more and more aware of the
brunette's body in her arms.
“Lexa.”
“Hmh?”
“You’re on top of me.”
“Mm?”
“I’d like to get up.”
Lexa, still very much asleep, whined. “No.”
“Lexa…”
Lexa grumbled and pushed herself up and off of Clarke. As she grew more and more
awake, her cheeks grew a pretty pink hue as embarrassment set in and she realized
what she'd done.
She’d slept with Clarke.
On Clarke.
Not with.
_Not last night, anyway._
She had tossed around in bed for what had felt like ages, even cried a little in
her frustration, trying her best to stifle the panic that had risen when the
realization of what she’d done set in once again. She’d gotten out of bed on a whim
after a little over an hour had passed, and stormed out with the intent of pacing
around till she calmed down. But then she’d caught sight of Clarke on the couch,
and a calmness had set into her heart, and she had recalled each night that had
come before that when she’d slept with Clarke. More to the point, she recalled then
just how safe and comfortable she’d felt when she could hear Clarke's breathing and
feel her heart beating steadily in her chest, how Clarke's presence just made her
feel like she was in the right place.
Had Lexa ever known what home felt like, she would have realized then that Clarke
felt like home to her.
And so, without thinking much more of it, she’d decided to sleep in Clarke’s arms.
The fact that Clarke had allowed it to happen had satisfied her to no end, not to
mention the actual feeling of being on Clarke and feeling her pulse beneath her
fingertips and pressing her face into the crook of the blonde’s neck had been pure
bliss.
The night had given Lexa the confirmation she’d been looking for. Clarke did care
for her, there was no other reason why her arms around her waist would have been so
tight or the smile on her beautiful sleeping face so bright. The extent to which
this went, however, was yet unknown to Lexa. But now she knew more than she had
before.
Clarke, too, felt that she had learned something from that night. But her
intentions she pocketed within her mind, and decided that she would talk with Lexa
later. It wasn’t like she was in a rush to get anywhere.
* * *
The next days’ drive was probably the quietest of all the days they’d been on the
road. Raven was driving with Anya in the front, and Clarke sat in the back with
Lexa without any idea of what to say.
She wanted to tell Lexa she had feelings for her. She wanted to say she no longer
wanted the divorce, but she knew that it was a big deal and she had no idea how to
actually get the words out of her mouth. Saying no to the divorce was, in Clarke’s
mind, equal to a marriage proposal.
And you don’t usually propose to a person you’ve met a week and a half ago.
Lexa was reading her book, although Clarke noticed that her eyes only gazed at the
pages emptily as though she weren’t reading them at all. It still served as a
barrier, preventing her from mustering up the courage to speak up. It didn't help
that they weren't alone; Raven and Anya, though both silent and relatively
unnoticeable, were still there and Clarke was very aware of Raven's continuous
glances at her through the rear view mirror.
It was a surprise to no one that Raven was the one to break the silence after about
three hours of driving.
“Ok, so do we actually have a heading?”
Clarke looked at her and shrugged. “Maryland, I guess.”
“We’re going to your Mom’s?”
“She may or may not have invited us for Thanksgiving and I may or may not have said
yes.”
“Free food! Yes!” Raven cried enthusiastically, causing Anya to jump awake in
surprise. She turned to glare at Raven, unable to believe that the insufferable
idiot had woken her up yet again, but Raven threw her a pointed look and simply
added: “Abby’s food is the best.”
“I know, I lived with her for eleven months.” Anya said slowly, trying to stifle a
yawn and failing at it completely.
Lexa was still staring at her book when she felt Clarke nudge her gently.
“Hey.”
She couldn’t help but smile when she looked up and saw Clarke looking at her.
“Hey?”
“You ok if we spend Thanksgiving with my mom?”
“Yeah, sure.” Lexa said. “Does she know-“
“Yeah, I told her.” Clarke nodded. “She’s really nice, and she really wants to meet
you even if we’re getting divorced.”
Lexa cringed inwardly. She’d grown to hate that word.
_Divorce._
She didn't even want to think about having to let Clarke go.
* * *
“Ok, Anya, I’ve been following your tactic for three days now and I can’t do it
anymore.”
Anya glanced over at Raven, eyebrow raised in question. The brunette lay on her
back on her bed, her bare feet stuck up towards the ceiling as she hung her head
and upper body over the edge of the bed. Anya could see up(or down) Raven’s shirt,
but said nothing of it. She'd learned that Raven was just about the least shy
person in the world, and Anya was far too acquainted with the sight of a nude Raven
Reyes than she would have liked.
Or perhaps she enjoyed it a little too much.
“What tactic?”
“Letting them figure it out themselves,” Raven replied with a sigh. “They’ll wither
away and die before realizing they’re meant for one another.”
Anya set down her book and sat up, crossing her long legs in her lap and throwing
Raven a pointed look which the brunette failed to notice because her eyes were
fixed on Anya’s legs.
“Then what do you propose we do? Lock them in a room and hope they somehow
gravitate into one another?”
“We already did that and it didn’t work. No, we have to be blunt.”
“I thought you were more of a no-nonsense type of girl.”
“Yeah, but you’re blunt.”
“You have a plan?”
“Depends. You in or not?”
Raven’s grin forced Anya to roll her eyes. The brunette was so childish, so
shameless, and it annoyed Anya to no end that she found herself incapable of saying
no to those shining eyes and that sparkling smile.
* * *
Clarke and Lexa were as oblivious as ever to Anya’s and Raven’s shared looks and
grins during the drive from Illinois over to Ohio. The two of them sat in the back,
debating over the first chapter of Lexa’s book, being adorable and ridiculously
cute together as ever.
“Come on, Lexa, you can’t say that you don’t believe that this guy isn’t some sort
of creepy stalker.”
“He’s not!”
“He writes her letters and leaves them at her house! She’s like what, fifteen?
Pedophile.”
“He’s not in love with her or anything, Clarke. He’s teaching her life lessons.”
“Still. It’s creepy.”
“Oh shut up and just read the damn book.”
“Nah, I’d rather talk to you.”
“Why?”
“You’re not trying to shove philosophy concepts down my throat.”
“You asked to borrow it, now I'm forcing you to finish it.”
“Please, Lexa, I’m bored.”
“It’s educational.”
“If you don’t agree to entertain me I’ll tickle you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
The next second Lexa was crying with laughter as Clarke had her leg held so that
she couldn’t get away from her nimble fingers running up and down the bottom of her
sock-clad foot. Anya and Raven both groaned, but neither of the pair in the back
seat noticed.
“Oh god, Clarke, please stop!”
Clarke paused for a second and threw her a grin. “You shouldn’t have dared me.”
There was a long pause as Lexa’s cheeks grew pink, and Clarke now realized that she
was basically holding Lexa in her lap with one arm tightly around her waist.
Raven rolled her eyes and threw Anya a pointed look.
“You wanna tell them?”
Anya nodded and grinned devilishly before turning to look at the back seat, where
Clarke and Lexa were still frozen, just staring at one another.
“You two.”
Clarke let go of Lexa, who scrambled away to sit on her own before clearing her
throat and looking at Anya.
“Yeah?”
“You’re being idiots, so we’re taking the wheel. You’re going on a date and you
will damn well talk about the fucking feelings which are so obvious between you
two. We’re not leaving until you do.”
Raven parked the car in front of some roadside diner. There wasn’t anything for
miles on either end of the road, and Clarke and Lexa quickly realized they had no
other escape.
“Well? Will you go on a date?”
Neither Clarke nor Lexa dared to say anything. Neither of them wanted to say no.
“Ok, so that’s a yes. Now get up and go get yourselves a table for two.”
Anya was demanding and Clarke found she couldn’t say no to her. She was actually
slightly afraid of her, although Clarke would have never admitted that. Sheepishly
as they could, they got out of the car and walked together to the diner, where they
sat down together in a booth in the corner.
“So, now what? We sit here and pretend we’re on a date until the meddling assholes
are satisfied?” Clarke grumbled as she grabbed a menu. Lexa just sighed and looked
out of the window, placing her chin to rest on her hand.
“Hi, I’m Finn, I’ll be your server tod-“
Clarke’s head snapped up to look at the guy who had just walked up to them. Her
eyes widened in shock when she saw who it was, and Lexa turned her head slowly to
find Clarke and the waiter gaping at each other with equal amounts of shock written
on their faces.
_Finn_ , Lexa thought, _did he say his name was Finn?_
“Finn?”
Lexa understood why Clarke sounded astonished, disbelieved even; but the slightest
hint of hurt that pushed through the blonde’s voice was more than enough to make
Lexa want to deck the man – no, boy - standing before them.
“Clarke? What...what are you doing here?”
“What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were going to California.”
The boy took a side step and ran his hand through his floppy brown mess of hair
which looked like it hadn't been washed for years. Lexa could not fathom how Clarke
could have ever settled for such a person.
_He’s not even that hot,_ Lexa grumbled to herself, _not that I'd be a good judge
of male looks._
“Uh, plans changed.”
Clarke was tense. Lexa wanted to take her hand and calm her down like the blonde
had done for her so many times. But she sat on the other side of the table, and
between them stood her ex-boyfriend, and it would have been weird.
After all, they weren’t dating.
This wasn’t a date.
Was it?
“Uh…I’ll give you guys time to…figure out your order.” Finn skittered away, but the
tension did not leave with him; if anything, the silence fell over the two of them
heavily.
Clarke was stunned. She hadn’t ever wanted to see Finn again, and seeing him now
had just brought up all the feelings that she had fought so hard to ignore.
It wasn’t like she was heartbroken over him. She’d cared for him once, yes, but
that had been several breakups before, and she no longer cared for him like that.
She knew he was shit. She knew he didn’t make her happy, but when he’d shown up
she’d always been alone and if there was one thing Clarke hated, it was being
alone.
She glanced up at Lexa and saw that she was staring at her, her brows furrowed as
though in concern.
“Are you okay?”
Clarke unclenched her jaw and forced herself to relax her hands, which had thus far
been tightly clamped together atop the table. “Uh, yeah.”
“Probably should figure out our order.”
“Yeah.”
Clarke and Lexa sat in silence, and when Raven and Anya entered a moment later and
took a seat on the other side of the diner, even they saw that something was wrong.
“Why are they so quiet?” Raven asked, peering over at the pair. “Something’s wrong.
Clarke’s jaw is clenched. Something's very wrong.”
“Maybe this was a bad idea.”
But then Raven caught sight of the one person on this earth that Clarke did not
want to see, walking over to their table, and she groaned loudly.
“Oh, my god. Holy fucking shit. I can’t believe this is happening.”
Anya was thoroughly confused, and when Raven began hitting her head against the
table, she caught her head and pulled her up. “What are you talking about?”
Raven stared at her for awhile, rendered speechless while Anya’s hands were on her
jaw, but then they were withdrawn and she regained her senses.
“It’s fucking Finn.”
“What?”
“The waiter. It’s Finn.”
“ _The_ Finn? The ex?”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit.”
Clarke felt like slumping her head down onto the table and groaning forcefully.
She’d actually thought that a date with Lexa wouldn’t be so bad, and had been a
little excited. Of course, given that they were supposedly just ‘pretending’ she
was safe from actually having to confront her feelings for the brunette.
But then, of all the people in the world, Finn had shown up.
“Clarke?”
“Huh?”
“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, just a little weirded out.”
Lexa nodded and leaned back in her seat. “Do you miss him?”
Clarke shook her head. “No. Not at all.”
“Then why are you being so weird?”
Clarke chewed her lip and remained silent. The truth was that seeing Finn had
reminded her of who she was, but Clarke didn't want to tell Lexa that. She didn't
want to admit to herself the fact that she had decided was true years before: love
was not for her, she was not one to love nor was she one to deserve to
be loved. Finn had loved her and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to love him
the same way. She still remembered the guilt, still felt it that day; and now,
faced with a woman who she so dearly wanted to love, she found she was afraid.
They ate mostly in silence, with only a few words exchanged during their meal.
Clarke was withdrawn and Lexa was determined to hold her tongue and give Clarke the
space she seemed to need, even though she was dying to comfort the blonde.
When Finn returned with the bill, he looked at Clarke in a way that made Lexa’s
blood boil; she could see he was pining, and that he was attracted to her. She
wanted to punch him.
It was then that she definitely knew she was jealous.
Clarke waited outside the bathroom for Lexa, mostly because she wasn’t ready to
face Raven and Anya alone and also because she didn’t want to bump into Finn alone
either. But, as fate would have it, he found her anyway, and Clarke could tell he
wanted to talk.
“Is there something you want, Finn?”
He looked at her with the most fake pained look Clarke had ever seen, and she
couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“I miss you, Clarke,” he said quietly as he took a step closer. Clarke took a step
back instinctively, and raised a hand to keep him at a distance.
“Finn…”
“No, seriously. I’m sorry I left. I shouldn’t have, I see that now.”
“You left.”
“And I want you back.”
“Finn, no.”
“Why not? We’re good together.”
“Do you fucking hear yourself?” Clarke snapped. “Good together? You were screwing
other girls on a daily basis. How is that good?”
“I love you, Clarke.”
“Gee, thanks.”
An angry glare entered Finn’s eyes, and Clarke was glad he’d dropped the façade.
“See? That’s why I left.” he was now angry, Clarke could see that very clearly. She
was just happy that he'd stopped pretending. At least now he was honest.
“Really? Because I don’t love you?” she jabbed at his chest, her words spat out
like poison. “Because I thought it was because you were too much of a coward to
tell me you didn’t want me.”
“I do want you, Clarke.”
“Well too fucking bad. I’m done with you, Finn. You were nice and easy, but I never
loved you and I don’t think anyone ever could.”
“You’re one to talk.” Finn muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“You think you’re so easy to love? Who’s gonna love someone like you? A girl who’s
too stubborn and headstrong for anyone to handle, unloveable even?”
Lexa had come out the bathroom a moment before, and frozen in her steps when she'd
seen the two of them. She stood now a few feet from the pair, watching them
carefully. She wanted to interrupt, but also did not; but then she heard Finn's
words, and fury flared up within her.
_Clarke? Unloveable?_
Lexa decided then that she'd show him just how wrong he was. She marched in and
promptly slid her arm around Clarke’s waist, and without thinking any more of it
she pressed a tender kiss to her lips before whispering a quiet ‘hey’ and turning
to look at Finn with false surprise in her eyes. So what if her insides were
exploding; if there was one thing Lexa was good at, it was keeping her feelings to
herself. She'd have time to talk with Clarke later.
Now was the time to unleash her anger.
“What’s going on here?”
Finn gaped at her with wide eyes, as did Clarke, but he was the first to speak.
“You’re a fucking lesbian now?” His words were directed to Clarke, but she was far
too stunned to even notice. All she was aware of was the fact that Lexa had just
kissed her and that her arm was around her waist and that her fingers were set on
her hip just tightly enough to reassure her and holy Jesus-
_Holy shit, Lexa just kissed me._
“Excuse me?” Lexa growled. Clarke felt her tense up, and didn’t need to look at her
to know she was glaring at Finn with all her might. The pale face and wide eyes of
her ex were more than enough to tell her that Lexa was terrifying him.
Finn tried to return Lexa's glare and not cower in the face of her anger. “It’s
none of your business.”
“Since you’re talking – no, yelling – at my girlfriend, I think it is my business.”

Lexa’s voice was cool, cold even, but Clarke could hear the anger burning beneath
the surface.
“Girlfriend? We broke up three weeks ago, Clarke. Did you even wait a day?”
Clarke groaned. “Finn, just fuck off.”
“Not until you give me an explanation. Were you cheating on me?”
“You have no right to demand anything from her, Finny-boy, and you have no right to
accuse her of cheating when that's your area of expertise.” Lexa snarled, her grip
of Clarke tightening as she leaned in intimidatingly. Finn took a step back, now
terrified to his core – this brunette was nothing like who he’d judged her to be
when he’d first seen her. She was scary, terrifying even; he had no doubt that she
wouldn’t hurt him if she so wished.
“Now leave my girlfriend alone or I will hurt you.”
She turned Clarke around and together they walked out of the diner and to the car,
leaving behind a completely shocked Finn and an astonished Raven. From where she
sat across from Anya, she had been able to see the whole confrontation, and when
Lexa had walked up to Clarke and _kissed_ her Raven had just about died.
“Raven, are you okay? You’ve been staring at the wall for two minutes now.” Anya
asked warily, eyeing the brunette in concern. “Are you having a stroke?”
When Raven didn’t respond, Anya took her fork and poked her gently in the arm.
“Ow! What the hell, Anya?”
“I was just making sure you weren’t dead,” the woman replied with a shrug. “Now
what the hell happened?”
“Oh my fucking god, Anya, don’t tell me you missed that whole thing.”
Anya now turned in her seat, but all she saw was an extremely pale Finn, leaning
against the wall and looking positively ill.
“What?”
“Finn was fighting with Clarke and Lexa went and _kissed_ her, holy fucking shit
we’re geniuses this went so much better than expected-“
“Kissed? What?”
“Yeah, kissed, and then put her arm around Clarke’s waist and she looked all
protective and shit. And god, whatever she said to Finn made him look like he’d
shit his pants.” Raven snickered at the thought and the sight of the still
terrified Finn. “And then they marched out. Wait, we should probably leave too. Let
me go pay, you go make sure they’re not ditching us.”
Anya shook her head and chuckled as Raven darted to the counter. She looked at her
half-eaten sandwich and Raven’s pristine clean plate, and decided then that she'd
need snacks for the road.
“Anya, come on. Let’s go!”
“You go. I’ll be there in a second.”
Anya came to the car a few minutes later with her leftovers neatly packed in one
hand and a bottle of water in another.
“Here,” she said as she came up to Raven in front of the car and handed her the
bag. “I figured you’d probably get hungry on the way.”
“Are those your leftovers?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there something wrong with them?”
"What? No."
"Did you poison them?"
"No."
"Then why don't you want them?"
Anya rolled her eyes. "Because my stomach isn't an endless black void like yours."
Raven smiled and took the leftovers. “My black void stomach thanks you.”
“Why are you outside the car? Where-“
“Shh. They’re in the car already. I’m just warning you, that’s all.”
“Warning me about what?”
“Clarke’s upset.”
“And?”
“She’s not like normal people when she gets upset.”
“Raven, you’re making it sound like she’s turned into a demon.”
“No, I just know my best friend. Don’t talk to her, don’t look at her too much.
She’s in her shell now, and she’ll come out when she’s ready. We just need to let
her be.”
“Does Lexa know?”
“Yeah, I told her.”
Anya glanced at the back seat through the window. Clarke was curled up in the
corner, her knees held to her chest as her chin rested on them. Her gaze was fixed
at her toes, and Anya could see her jaw was clenched and that her eyes looked dark.
Darker than she’d ever seen them.
Lexa was sitting on the other seat, her book in hand, but from the tension in her
shoulders and the way her hands were gripping the book, Anya knew that Lexa was
worried.
“So what do we do, just drive?”
“Yeah. She’ll get out of it eventually. It’s no use trying to hurry up the process,
unless you want a bony Clarke-fist saying hello to your eye.”
Anya chuckled. “Why do I feel like there’s a story there?”
“What? Clarke was upset this one time, I tried to get her to move, she tried to
shove me away and kinda sorta hit me in the eye. No big deal, it only took like
maybe a week for it to fade away.”
“That’s…weird.”
“She was upset. She's upset now. She'll be fine so long as she gets the time,”
Raven shrugged. “Now let’s get this show on the road, ok?”
As the car sped down along the highway, Clarke could feel the churning feel in her
gut lessening. With each mile put in between her and Finn, she felt slightly
better, but she did not move or look up. She felt safe in her little ball, hidden
from the world. This was how she’d dealt with negative feelings all her life; it
was the only way she knew how.
She hadn’t expected Finn to say what he had. No, she certainly had not. She hadn’t
dumped him the last time; he had been the one to leave, there one evening and gone
the next morning. He never left a note, only a small voicemail telling her he’d
left.
_It just wasn’t working out._
Clarke hadn’t really given two shits. He’d been a convenient choice, someone to
sleep in her bed so she didn’t realize her crippling loneliness. He’d been easy, a
good distraction, and his best quality had been what had eventually driven him
away.
She could never love him. She was so sure of it, had been then and was so now. He
had been the safest choice. Without any potential for love, Clarke didn’t have to
worry about her heart.
He’d said he missed her, and that he wanted her back. Clarke had heard that too
many times before, and knew they were not honest words. But what he’d said after
had been new and had wounded her deeply.
Or, to be more precise, his words had deepened the wounds on her heart that she had
already inflicted upon herself.
_You think you’re so easy to love? Who’s gonna love someone like you? A girl who’s
too stubborn and headstrong for anyone to handle? Unloveable?_
Clarke bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. Her eyes burned, and she nearly let
them fall, but Clarke Griffin did not cry. No, she did not cry, not when there were
people around. Especially not when Lexa was there.
She didn’t want Lexa to worry about her.
And then the next thing Clarke knew, she was thinking back to what Lexa had done.
In the moment when Clarke had been standing stunned, her blood frozen in her veins
and tears welling up in her eyes, Lexa had walked up to her and done exactly what
was needed to counteract Finn’s words and make Clarke's heart stop.
_She kissed me_.
For Clarke, that moment was frozen in time. Lexa had been so casual, so nonchalant
about the kiss, that it had all passed quicker than Clarke had time to register;
but the press of her lips against her own and the touch of her hand on her hip
hadn’t been a dream. No, it was definitely reality. Clarke wasn’t even so sure what
had happened after the kiss; she recalled Lexa’s arm around her waist, and her
snarling at Finn, but her words were lost to her. She didn't know what Finn had
said afterwards either, or what she'd said in response. All she knew was that Lexa
had kissed her and held her and protected her without her even asking her to.
_And now I’m sitting here like a fucking rock, ignoring her_.
She glanced up from her feet for the first time in an hour, and saw that Lexa was
still reading her book. Not a second after Clarke had raised her eyes, Lexa’s gaze
left the page before and met hers. Lexa smiled then, slightly and tentatively, and
Clarke felt herself grow warm again.
_I’m not unloveable_.
And Clarke smiled back.
> SHIT HAPPENED AMIRIGHT

> also who's happy that lexa's coming out of her shell cause she may have seemed
like a precious cinnamon roll(and trust me she def is one) but she's also fucking
badass as shown above
> also Raven and Anya are just too precious, Raven is infuriating and Anya is
annoyed but damn they fit together
> next chapter is Thanksgiving, get hyped for that
14. Chapter 14
> ok so thanksgiving got so long that i spread it over two chapters but this one is
great keep yo pants on
> Abby steps onto the stage and SHIT HAPPENS
> prepare yourselves
> take deep breaths
When they finally stopped somewhere near West Virginia that night, Clarke was more
or less alright. Even so, she had not yet uncurled the ball that she was in,
despite the fact that she was fine and no longer upset. She felt that once she did,
she would need to talk to Lexa, and she had no intentions of doing that while Raven
and Anya remained within earshot.
She had to talk to Lexa, that much she knew. Lexa had kissed her. And she had
kissed her back, and then her mind had been temporarily rendered incapable of basic
functioning because _Lexa had kissed her_.
She both wanted and did not want to talk, but she knew that if she didn't she would
most certainly die.
_Now leave my girlfriend alone or I will hurt you._
Clarke could hear Lexa’s voice in her head, on repeat, and each time she thought of
it sent shivers down her spine. Lexa had been furious with Finn to the point where
Clarke had actually feared she'd hurt him. Not to mention she had displayed a
possessive and protective side that Clarke hadn’t known to expect.
It was almost as though she'd been jealous.
_No,_ Clarke corrected herself _, she was definitely jealous._
Now, in hindsight, she wondered why she’d been so surprised. It was obvious now
that Lexa would be protective and possessive, and the fact that those feelings had
been directed to Clarke made her feel overwhelmingly happy and oddly safe.
When they’d returned to the car, Clarke had immediately gotten into the seat and
settled into the position she’d spent most of the ride in. She hadn’t spoken to
Lexa, and Lexa hadn’t tried to speak to her; the brunette had just sat down next to
her and taken her book out, attempted to act normal even though Clarke could feel
the tension in her presence. She was worried, Clarke had known that, but her first
priority was herself. She’d fix herself first, then talk to Lexa.
She didn’t trust what would come out of her mouth until she’d calmed down.
And now it was several hours later, and they were at a motel somewhere in between
Ohio and West Virginia, and Clarke knew they would talk. She was pacing back and
forth in their motel room, fumbling with her hands anxiously, waiting for the door
to open and for Lexa to enter.
Lexa knew Clarke was waiting till they were alone, and was glad that she was. She
needed the time to think, because right now, she was freaking out.
She had gone and kissed Clarke, and held her, and protected her even when there
perhaps hadn’t been any need for her to do so. Even though Clarke had mumbled a
thanks on their way to the car, Lexa wasn’t entirely sure she had done the right
thing. She hadn't thought much of the kiss until it had happened, and then she had
pushed it out of her mind to focus better on yelling at Finn. But when they'd gone
to the car, and Clarke had climbed in without a word, Lexa had been hit with the
realization of what she'd done.
She had kissed Clarke.
And it had been amazing.
“Lexa, what the hell are you doing?”
Lexa felt Anya’s hand on her shoulder, and turned her head to look at her in
confusion. She was standing outside her and Clarke’s motel room, staring at the
blue door with a blank expression on her face.
Clarke was just behind that door.
God knows what else awaited her there.
“Why aren’t you going in?”
“I…” Lexa shrugged and said nothing, turning her face away from Anya.
“Lexa…”
“Anya, I kissed her. I got jealous and I kissed her, and now she hasn’t talked all
day and I just…”
“Lexa, you know that her not talking wasn’t because of you. Raven told me she told
you. She was upset.”
“Yeah, but…she’ll want to talk about it, about the kiss. And I’m not ready…what if
she says no? What if she’s mad? What if I fucked this whole thing up because I let
my feelings get the best of me?”
“Lexa, just shut up and go talk to her. It’ll be fine. If she says no I’ll come and
kick her ass, ok?”
“Promise me you won't do that.”
“I will kick her ass if I have to, but I have faith that she won’t say no,” Anya
smirked. She took Lexa by both shoulders and pushed her towards the door. “Now go,
my child. Talk to the woman you love.”
Lexa groaned but did as told, knowing there was no saying no to Anya. She threw her
a pointed glare before turning the doorknob and stepping into what she
expected would be her worst nightmare.
Instead, it was like she'd stepped into a dream. A really good dream.
The last thing she would've expected was for Clarke’s body to engulf hers into a
tight hug the instant she entered the room.¨
No, she certainly did not expect that.
And yet, that was exactly what happened when she stepped through that door.
Clarke’s arms were around her neck, her face buried in Lexa’s shoulder and her
blonde hair in Lexa’s face, and Lexa was sure she'd died and gone to heaven. She
stood there, stunned, for a score of three seconds before kicking the door shut
behind herself and wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist, pulling her closer and
sighing contently. Clarke was warm and soft, and the press of her body against her
own was better than Lexa had even imagined. She was sure the world around her had
to be spinning, but her eyes were closed and she was solely concentrated on Clarke.
“Thank you.”
Clarke’s voice was just barely above a whisper, but Lexa caught it nevertheless;
she loosened her hold of Clarke’s waist, thinking Clarke would pull away, but the
blonde did not do so with the arms around Lexa’s neck. If anything, they tightened
their hold, and Lexa could feel Clarke leaning into her, almost clinging to her as
though she were afraid she’d leave. Lexa smiled and gently tightened her arms
around the girl once again, holding her like she had wanted to for days.
“You’re…you’re welcome,” Lexa mumbled quietly. Her fingers were just grazing a
sliver of exposed skin where Clarke’s shirt had ridden up, and she had to swallow
hard to keep herself steady in the face of her realization of how smooth Clarke's
skin was. Clarke sighed and turned her head against Lexa's shoulder, and for a long
while, the two of them just stood there, embracing one another and not caring for
anything else.
Finally, Clarke pulled away from Lexa as carefully as she could and went over to
sit on the bed. Lexa followed and sat next to her, and for a while, neither of them
spoke.
“Why did you do it?”
Clarke was still quiet, but Lexa saw no trace of hurt or upset in her face. She
looked curious, confused even, and that in turn was enough to confuse the brunette
who was trying so hard to not freak out over the fact that they had just hugged.
“What? The…”
“Yeah, the kiss and the whole ‘don’t touch my girlfriend’ spiel.”
Lexa chewed her lip. “I don’t know. I…I heard him say that you’re unloveable and
all that crap and I just…I wanted to prove him wrong.”
“So you pretended to be my girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“And thought a kiss would just be a good addition?”
“Yeah.”
Clarke took a deep breath. “Look…I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“We kissed and I just ignored you. I’m sure you were…I’m just sorry, ok?”
“Why are you sorry? You were upset, Clarke. Raven explained how it works. It’s
fine.”
“But you were worried.”
“Of course I was worried, Clarke. I care about you.”
Clarke looked up from her lap, her blue eyes wide not with surprise but with
relief. “Really?”
“Did you think the kiss was just for show?” Lexa smiled, gently as ever, and Clarke
blushed and averted her eyes.
“I hoped not,” Clarke mumbled. “Because I want to do it again.”
Lexa feared her heart would explode when she felt Clarke’s hand gently cup her face
and Clarke’s lips touch her own. It was gentle, tentative, as though Clarke were
testing the waters with her; Lexa responded by snaking an arm around Clarke’s waist
and pulling her in closer, the soft kiss turning into a more demanding and
determined one.
“So…” Clarke began when they pulled apart. “We…”
But neither of them dared to speak of their feelings, because neither of them felt
like it was just an innocent crush; they were both overwhelmed with love for the
other, but both of them knew it was far too early to say it. Saying it was just a
crush or 'I like you' would have been a lie, and neither of the two had any desire
to lie about their feelings.
And so, after a while of silence they went to sleep, hoping - no, praying - they
would wake with the courage to spill those three little words.
_I love you._
* * *
The next day they piled into the car after a hearty diner breakfast just
after sunrise and set off their course for Baltimore and Clarke’s childhood home.
Neither Lexa nor Clarke addressed the events of the day before, and neither of the
meddling idiots had any idea of what had occurred after that door had closed. They
tried their best to be normal, but the fact was that they didn’t know what to say.
Clarke didn’t even know what to think, and while Lexa did, she did not know what to
say. Clarke wasn’t exactly talkative for another reason as well: she was insanely
nervous about meeting her mother. It had been eleven months since she’d seen her
last, and a lot had changed since then.
She was married.
She’d never thought she’d be bringing a wife to a Thanksgiving dinner at her mom’s
house.
When the car was rolling down the street towards the house she’d grown up in,
Clarke felt her stomach churn with nerves. She had missed her mother, and no amount
of phone calls and Skype calls could amount to what she knew it’d be like to see
her in person. She was also anxious to see what her mother thought of Lexa, and
what Lexa thought of her mother.
God, she was just anxious to the point where she was sure she’d puke.
As they pulled up in the driveway of a bright yellow two-story town house, Lexa
found herself feeling anxious as well. She could see that Clarke was anxious; her
knee hadn’t stopped bouncing since they’d arrived in the quaint little suburb just
a little ways’ off from Baltimore. Lexa looked at the house and had no trouble
imagining Clarke living here; there was a tire swing hanging from the maple tree on
the lawn, and Lexa could practically see a little angel-haired Clarke swinging on
it, laughing cheerfully as she reached greater heights with each swing. The lawn
and the garden beyond it was simple but well-kept, as was the house, which was
small and yet appeared welcoming and homey.
None of the houses Lexa had ever lived in had been homey.
“My bedroom’s the second window from the left,” Clarke told her, as though she’d
read her mind. “It’s harder to sneak out of than it looks, the porch roof isn’t as
close as it should be.”
Lexa chuckled as she pushed the car door open and stepped outside. When the car
doors were slammed shut, she could see movement inside and the next second the
front door was opened, revealing a woman who was quite obviously Clarke’s mother.
“Clarke!”
Clarke sighed and smiled at her mother, hurrying her steps until she was at the
porch and in her mother’s arms. “Hi, Mom.”
“So glad you came.”
Clarke sighed again and pulled away, flashing a smile to her mother. “Me too.”
The three other girls came up behind Clarke, and Abby stepped forth to hug Raven
too. “Nice to see you, Raven.”
“Nice to see you too, Miss Gr-,” Raven stumbled over her words when Abby threw her
a sharp look. "I mean Abby."
“And hello, Anya. Long time no see.”
Anya acknowledged Abby with a smile. “How were things at the camp after I left?”
“I wrapped up just fine. We can talk about that later.”
Raven grabbed Anya’s arm and dragged her inside, leaving Abby alone with Clarke and
Lexa. Lexa was standing beside Clarke, quiet and shy, unsure of what she should do.
Clarke was just as clueless, as was Abby. This wasn't exactly a situation any of
the three had expected to find themselves in.
“Uh, Mom…this is Lexa,” Clarke stammered. “My…erm, my wife.”
Abby smiled at Lexa, and the brunette found herself returning the smile. Although
Clarke and her mother shared very little distinctive looks, Lexa recognized the
same gentleness behind her sharp brown eyes and all-too-natural smile. “Welcome to
my home, Lexa.”
“Thank you, mrs. Griffin.”
“Oh, just call me Abby. Mrs. Griffin makes me feel old. Come inside.”
When they stepped inside, they were overwhelmed by the scent of Thanksgiving; there
was cornbread cooking in the oven, and countless sauces and pastries cooling all
over the kitchen and dining room. The turkey was thawing in the sink, and the sheer
amount of food that was piled on the tables astounded Lexa.
Lexa looked around curiously; the home was quaint and cozy, with little plan with
regard to furniture but somehow everything managed to match and look extremely
comfortable. She noticed framed pictures were hung along the walls wherever they
could fit, and couldn’t help but smile when she recognized Clarke’s blonde hair in
many of them. There were many of her as a baby, with paint smeared over her hands
and face and everywhere else, or of her in the swing outside; she saw a picture
that was evidently from a middle school dance, of Clarke in the poorest fashion
choice of a dress she had ever seen-
She would have continued looking, but Clarke's hand slipped into hers and she
turned to look at her to find her looking slightly annoyed.
“You can judge my puffy kid face later,” Clarke muttered, tugging at her hand and
dragging her along with her to the living room. There, they found Anya and Raven
already seated and indulging in the tea and cookies set out on the sofa table.
“You girls sit down, I’ll be right there.”
Clarke and Lexa sat down together on the very same red couch that Clarke had had
her first kiss on many years before. Of course, Clarke wasn’t about to share that
fact – no one else knew besides her, not even her mother. It totally wasn’t weird
to be sitting there with her soon-to-be ex-wife.
“Your house is nice,” Lexa commented after a while. “Very cozy.”
“It’s not really my house anymore,” Clarke shrugged. “And probably not quite what
you’re used to.”
“I like this better. This seems like there are actual people living here.”
Abby entered the room then, wiping her hands on the apron round her hips. “Right.
This is a little…weird.”
Raven looked like she was about to comment, but Anya elbowed her to keep her quiet.
Now was not the time for Raven’s ill-timed witty comments.
Abby sat down in a chair and peered at her daughter and her daughter-in-law
carefully. The brown-haired girl seemed nice enough, if not a little shy – Abby
wasn’t so sure whether it was because of her or because of the fact that this was
the first time Lexa was ever in Clarke’s childhood home.
“So, Clarke. How was the drive here?”
Clarke shrugged. “It was cool, I guess. We took the scenic route, so we’ve seen
more than enough trees for a lifetime.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Abby smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m not very well versed with small
talk. This is a little weird for me.”
Clarke sighed. “I think we can all safely say that this is weird.”
“This isn’t weird for me.” Raven commented.
Abby looked at her and frowned. “Raven, would you and Anya head down to the store?
I have some things I need.”
“Sure. I know when I’m not wanted.” Raven smiled.
A few minutes later Anya and Raven were taken care of and sent away, leaving Abby
alone with her daughter and her daughter-in-law.
“Right,” she began, eyeing the pair carefully. “I don’t know you, Lexa, and I’m
sure you’re a wonderful girl, but I can’t help but feel weirded out by this.
Clarke, you’ve never been more vocal about anything except your hatred for
marriage. And now you’re here, with a wife. Who you acquired in Vegas by accident
and who you forgot about for almost an entire year.”
“Yeah?” Clarke asked. “That’s the story. I told you.”
“What are you two going to do about it?”
Silence befell the Griffin household. Lexa dared not speak, nor did Clarke. Abby
watched the two of them squirm uncomfortably for an agonizingly long while before
speaking.
“Have you even talked about it? Divorce, no divorce?”
Yet again, the pair before her remained still and silent. Abby sighed.
“Clarke, may I have a word with you alone?”
Clarke stood slowly and followed her mother to the adjacent study, shooting Lexa an
apologetic look before shutting the door.
“Clarke, what are you doing?”
Clarke stared at her mother, completely dumbfounded. “What?”
“Why haven’t you told her yet?”

“Told her what?”
“That you love her and you don’t want a divorce.”
“I…I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”
“Clarke. You can’t keep stringing her along like this. Lexa is obviously a very
nice girl, and I can tell she likes you a lot. Possibly loves. But not
communicating is going to break you both.”
“I thought you were fine with me waiting.”
“Yes, when I thought that meant you waiting a day or two. It’s been over a week,
Clarke.”
“I just…”
“Do you want a divorce?”
“No.”
“Do you love her?”
Clarke chewed her lip and said nothing.
“Clarke. Do you love her?”
“Yes, Mom, I love her!” Clarke snapped, her voice rising. “I really do, I just…I
don’t know how to say it to her.”
“Go tell her now.”
“Now?”
“Go talk to her, Clarke. Now is as good a time as any. You’re breaking her and
yourself by waiting, and it’s stupid. I raised you better than this.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Mo-om…”
“Clarke, just go.”
Clarke huffed and walked out of the study, only to find the living room empty. She
darted around the house quickly, but found no sign of Lexa anywhere. With a glance
at the coat rack, she saw that Lexa’s jacket was missing.
_She's gone._
And then, with a start, Clarke recalled one very specific fact about her childhood
home.
The walls were extremely thin.
Thin like paper.
Certainly thin enough that Lexa had most likely heard at least parts of their
conversation.
“Fuck.” Clarke groaned as she darted to the door, grabbing her coat quickly before
running out and into the street. She looked up and down along the road, but saw no
sign of Lexa anywhere. “Oh, fuck.”
She was about to run down the street when a small voice from behind her spoke.
“I’m here.”
Clarke whirled around to find Lexa sitting on the porch swing and sighed in relief.
She jogged over and sat down beside her, causing the swing to shake a little.
“Thank god, I thought you’d run off.”
There was no reply.
Lexa was quiet. Too quiet, Clarke realized. She glanced at the brunette and saw now
that she was fighting back tears; she was biting her lip and her hand was squeezing
the edge of the swing tightly, but even so Clarke saw one offending tear slip away
and roll down her cheek.
“Lexa…” Clarke began, her voice quiet and small. “Did you hear the…?”
Lexa nodded slightly. Clarke cursed under her breath.
“Look, this wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, and I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, I
know it’s too soon and I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything-“
“Clarke.”
Lexa’s voice was small and barely audible, but Clarke heard it nevertheless and
cringed. She reached over to take Lexa’s hand into hers, and leaned in closer,
tentative as ever.
“Why are you upset, Lexa?”
Lexa inhaled sharply and shook her head to clear her mind. She wasn’t upset,
anything but – she was overwhelmed by the sheer joy that was bursting in every cell
of her being, but she was unable to form words to tell Clarke that.
“Lexa…”
Lexa decided to take the chance. Clarke loved her, and she knew now she loved
Clarke.
What use was there to wait?
Clarke’s worry was cut short when Lexa’s lips crashed onto hers, and she responded
almost immediately, everything else simply melting away from her mind. All it took
was that one kiss for her to realize that Lexa was not upset, but happy – that her
tears were from joy, not from sorrow, and that she had been the one to make Lexa
feel that way. She moved in closer, pressing her lips against Lexa’s almost
desperately, and felt that desperation and need reciprocated with
dizzying intensity.
When Lexa pulled away, Clarke couldn’t help the little pout that emerged on her
lips. This elicited a wonderfully adorable chuckle from Lexa, who kissed Clarke
again, this time gentler and softer than the first; Clarke could taste her, and it
was heaven – the memories of the drunken kisses they’d shared in Vegas were nothing
compared to this, for this kiss withheld all the feelings they shared between them.
This kiss said those three little words that Clarke had been too afraid to say.
“I love you,” Lexa murmured against Clarke’s lips, “And I don’t care about how you
said it.”
“I love you too, Lexa.” Clarke whispered. “And I don’t want a divorce. Not now, not
ever.”
Lexa laughed gently. “This is kinda fucked up, isn’t it?”
“I think there’s no other way I could have ended up marrying you,” Clarke
whispered. “I was too fucked up then. I mean, I didn’t even believe love existed,
and yet here I am. In love. With you.”
Lexa kissed her again, and Clarke felt her heart exploding in her chest. “You’re
amazing.”
“Is this too soon?”
"For what?"
"To be saying I love you."
“You’re my wife. And I at least know I love you.”
“Right.”
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I do. Fuck. I really do."
“We’re married.”
“This is pretty amazing.”
They were interrupted by a joyous cry that came from none other than one Raven
Reyes.
“Oh, look, they _finally_ did it!”
Clarke and Lexa looked up to find Raven standing on the lawn, a bag of groceries in
her hand and a victoriously smug grin on her face.
“Do I hear wedding bells?” Raven continued as she walked up the stairs to the
porch, “Oh, wait, no. You’re already married. Congrats.”
She walked into the house, and was followed by Anya, who shot Clarke a smirk before
entering the house as well.
“Well, the good thing is we won’t have to deal with the whole wedding mess.” Clarke
shrugged. Her arm was still around Lexa’s waist, and she did not want to let go.
But then she felt Lexa shiver, and realized how cold it was outside. She stood and
offered Lexa her hand, and smiled at her wife in such a way Lexa wasn't sure she'd
ever seen anyone that happy.
“Let’s go inside.”
> i know dad!Kane is a thing but i find myself liking cool uncle!Kane even more
> once again, don't forget to come say hi to me @clexy-polarbear on tumblr :)
> or you can yell at me if u want
> freaking out abt the 100 is most welcome
> im a lonely soul i want to meet u all
> DO NOT WORRY MY CHILDREN THIS ISNT THE END THIS IS JUST A LIL LULL BEFORE ACTION
HAPPENS
15. Chapter 15
> alright so in the spirit of thirst-day pregaming, I give you guys this
> it's pretty awesome, thanksgiving continued
> warning: Raven is hilarious and Clexa is lethally feelings-inducing
> also Uncle!Kane
“So am I to assume that divorce is out of the question?”
The insufferable grin on her mother’s face caused Clarke to groan. Lexa only smiled
and nodded shyly, . She was quickly growing to like Clarke’s mom, even though she
was yet to figure out just how to conduct herself around the woman. Abby seemed
kind and open-minded, and Lexa had not yet seen any judgement from her part on
Clarke’s marriage other than the fact that it had taken place in Vegas on a whim
while drunk.
“Yes, Mom, you can inform the rest of the family that I’ve tied the knot.”
“The rest of the family?”
Clarke glanced at Lexa and grinned. “Don’t worry, I just mean my uncle Kane.”
“Oh, he’s coming tomorrow. You can tell him yourself.”
Clarke yawned then, and received a pointed tut from Abby. “You haven’t been
sleeping much, have you?”
“We’ve been driving since 5am, Mom.” Clarke whined. “Don’t judge me.”
“It’s almost ten. You should go to bed.”
Clarke glanced at Lexa. “Is it okay if she sleeps in my room?”
Abby laughed heartily, and Lexa could’ve sworn she heard Raven giggling in the
lounge as well. She just blushed, embarrassed, and concentrated on Clarke’s hand in
hers, warm and soft and somehow both gentle and tight at the same time.
“Considering she’s your wife, I don’t think I have any say in that,” Abby chuckled.
“I put some sheets on the bed. You can get another pillow from the attic.”
“Okay.”
They started off towards the stairs, but Lexa was stopped by Abby’s hand gently
touching her arm.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Lexa stared at her, wide-eyed, unsure of what to say. She felt Clarke’s hand slip
from hers, and was still unable to speak when she felt Clarke’s finger poke at her
side.
“She’s not like your mom, you know. She won’t bite.”
Lexa blushed again, and allowed Abby to wrap her arms around her. Lexa could count
the number of people that had hugged her on her fingers, but never had she been
hugged by a mother.
She felt comforted and small, and so incredibly accepted she was sure she’d cry.
“Welcome to the family, Lexa.”
Clarke smiled gently as she saw Lexa swallow hard. She knew this was new to her,
and was overjoyed to find that her mother understood that Lexa needed overwhelming
acceptance. She had been prepared to talk to her about that, but clearly there was
no need.
Sometimes she forgot her mother knew her so well.
When Abby pulled away, Lexa smiled shyly and tried to think of something to say.
“Well, good night,” Abby said softly, promptly hugging Clarke tightly before
throwing them one amused glance and disappearing into the kitchen.
“Lexa?”
Lexa looked at Clarke, still reeling from whatever had just happened.
“You ok?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Overwhelmed?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, let’s go to bed. You can reel from everything there.”
Clarke grinned widely and took Lexa’s hand, promptly dragging her along to the
stairs and up to her room. It wasn’t very large, but featured a queen-sized bed in
one corner and a desk in another and an endless amount of drawings and paintings
pinned to the walls. There was just about anything, ranging from tiny scribbled
sketches on the backs of receipts and bus tickets pinned with thumbtacks and
needles to framed three-foot-wide acrylic paintings, and anything in between. There
wasn’t a single spot on the walls that wasn’t covered with something, and for a
while, Lexa just stood there, not sure where to look.
Clarke had made all of these, and they were all more than beautiful.
“What do you think?”
“That’s a lot of drawings.”
“It’s kind of my hall of fame,” Clarke grinned smugly as she began making the bed.
“There’s drawings from when I was three all the way to when I was in art school.”
“You studied art in college?”
“Art history, but yeah. I took just about every art course available. Some of them
I took as many times as they let me.”
Lexa smiled when she saw a sloppy crayon drawing of a family, framed above the
desk. It was placed so perfectly that she knew it had special value. The drawing
featured a mom and a dad and a little girl with yellow hair, drawn obviously with a
child’s hand and yet bearing more sophistication than the average child would. All
three of them were holding their stick-hands together, and there were wide smiles
on all their faces. The drawing was signed in the corner, with a just barely
decipherable ‘Clarke’ where the k was facing the wrong way and the r looked more
like a v.
“Where’s your dad?” Lexa asked quietly, despite the fact that she was pretty
certain of the answer.
Clarke was quiet for a while. “He’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was years ago.”
“Still,” Lexa insisted, walking over to wrap an arm around Clarke’s waist. “I’m
sorry. I’m sure you miss him.”
“Yeah, I do.” Clarke shrugged. But then she smiled and kissed Lexa on the lips,
grinning giddily as though she’d forgotten that she could do so.
Which, truthfully, she had.
It was a pretty insane thing to wrap one’s head around, after all. She had a wife
who she loved and who loved her and who she could kiss whenever she liked.
The Clarke Griffin of last month could have never imagined herself in such a
situation.
“Let me go get you a pillow. Our bags are downstairs in the lounge, if you need
anything.”
Lexa went downstairs to find Anya waiting for her, a victorious smile on her face.
She was leaning against the wall, and Lexa briefly wondered whether she’d been
waiting long.
“No divorce?”
Lexa smiled and pushed past her to get her bag. “No divorce.”
“Congratulations.”
“I just can’t believe it, Anya. This…this is literally the single-most amazing
thing that has ever happened in my life and I’m just praying this isn’t a dream,”
Lexa spoke quickly, as though she wanted to push the words out of herself, but Anya
only smiled at her flustered and over-excited friend.
Anya hugged her then, and Lexa couldn’t help but smile. “It’s not a dream, Lexa.
This is what life is supposed to be like. This is the life you deserve.”
“I just can’t believe it.”
“Well, start trying. From what I can tell, Clarke’s every bit as stubborn as you
are. I don’t think she’ll let you keep walking in this daze for long.”
“We need to get rings.”
“That you do.”
“Oh my god, Anya, I’m _married_.”
Anya chuckled, turning Lexa gently and pushing her towards the stairs. “How about
you go and sleep it off? In bed with your wife?”
Lexa was more than glad to do so. When she entered Clarke’s bedroom, she smiled
when she saw Clarke already in bed, sitting up with her phone in her hand. It all
felt so natural, too natural even, but she did not care a single bit.
No, Lexa was happy and she was going to let herself be happy.
_This is the life I deserve._
She didn’t mind changing in front of Clarke, knowing very well that Clarke had not
only seen her naked but could also remember it.
“You know, it kinda bothers me that you can remember Vegas and I can’t,” she
muttered as she was pulling on a tank top. “It’s not fair.”
Clarke chuckled. “I’m lucky. The memories…they’re pretty nice.”
“I’m talking more about the fact that you can remember seeing me naked and I can’t
remember seeing you naked.”
The blonde set her phone down and stared at her for just a few split seconds before
grinning wildly.
“I can fix that.”
She stood up in front of Lexa and swiftly pulled her shirt over her head, and Lexa
felt a little gasp escape her lips when she saw Clarke’s bare upper body. She was
pale and skinny, but had the perfect curves and the most enticing waist and a
smooth stomach and the most beautiful breasts and Lexa could not stop staring.
When the blonde’s hands went to pull down her sleep shorts, Lexa caught her hand
and looked at her, a mischievous glimmer within the pure green of her eyes.
“Let me.”
Clarke’s eyes met Lexa’s, and in that moment, it was Vegas all over again. The lust
in Lexa’s eyes brought back memories for Clarke, but she was quickly drawn out of
her head when Lexa’s lips claimed hers and she was pulled closer to Lexa, so close
there wasn’t an breath between them; Lexa was determined, and her dominant side
showed yet again, and Clarke could feel her core and mind melting away as she felt
herself be taken again.
Lexa turned her slightly and suddenly Clarke felt the bed hit the back of her
knees, but she was not pushed onto the bed as she expected. Instead, Lexa’s lips
left her, and she was left breathing heavily as Lexa knelt before her slowly, her
hand pulling down Clarke’s shorts effortlessly as though they weren’t there at all.
Clarke hadn’t worn any underwear, and Lexa let out a pleased sigh when she saw
Clarke naked before her; she pressed a gentle kiss onto Clarke’s stomach, and felt
the blonde quiver beneath her all-too-soft touch. A gentle push was all it took for
Clarke to fall backwards onto the bed, and she became all too aware of the fact
that Lexa’s face – no, Lexa’s mouth – was not inches from where she was burning it
to be. Without even thinking, Clarke spread her legs, and Lexa chuckled at how
eager she was.
“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” She grinned, and Clarke groaned as she
threw her head back in frustration. She was naked before Lexa, waiting for her to
touch her, to kiss her, to do _something_ , but Lexa was clearly in no rush.
“Yes,” Clarke grumbled. “You may be annoyed that you can’t remember Vegas, but my
burden has been remembering Vegas and not being able to do anything.”
Lexa smiled innocently. “I’m sure I was wonderful in Vegas. I’m afraid I’m a
little…incapacitated at the moment, so to speak.” She lifted her broken arm, and
Clarke groaned again, not believing Lexa’s ability to ignore her desperate want.
“Lexa, would you mind not talking?”
* * *
“So, how’s life now that you’re _actually_ married?” Raven asked when Clarke and
Lexa finally graced the rest of the company with their presence some time after
eleven in the morning.
“Great.” Clarke said curtly. She sat down onto the couch and Lexa did too, and none
of those in the room failed to notice that they sat right beside one another, with
no respectful space between them.
“Octavia owes me 20 bucks,” Raven snickered. “She was sure you’d go through with
the divorce.”
“Nice to know she has faith in me.”
“Well, she never met your lovely wife,” Raven pointed out.
“How is she, by the way?”
“She’s fine. She misses you, and she’s mad that you haven’t called.”
“I’ve been a little busy.”
“Then why have I had the time to call her?”
“I’m not the one with a pining crush on her.”
“I do _not_ have a crush on her!” Raven snapped, but failed to hide her panic from
Clarke’s watchful eye.
Raven recovered quickly from her momentary panic, and now turned her eyes to smirk
pointedly at Lexa. “How’s Clarke in bed?”
Lexa blushed vigorously, and Clarke groaned, giving Raven the exact confirmation
she’d needed. She cried out in sheer joy and clapped her hands together, pure glee
written on every inch of her face.
“So you two _did_ do it!”

“Raven, either you shut up voluntarily or I will murder you. My mom is in the next
fucking room!”
“I have no intention of ever stopping and you know it,” Raven smirked as she took
another bite of Abby’s infamous apple pie. “Oh fuck me, this turns me on.”
“I don’t appreciate you talking like that about my mother’s cooking.”
“Well, Clarke, if your mother is as good in bed as her cooking is in my mouth, then
you might be looking at your future step-mom.”
“Raven!”
Raven was cackling with laughter, and Lexa found herself worrying that she’d choke
on the mouthful of pie she’d put in her mouth just a second before. Sure enough,
Raven was choking on the floor not moments later, and Clarke was slamming her hand
on her back as the offending piece of pie refused to dislodge itself from Raven’s
throat. When it finally came out, Raven was in tears, both from laughter and from
her near-death experience, and it was Clarke’s turn to laugh.
“See? That’s an omen for you, Raven. Don’t even think about making another ‘doing
your mom’ joke or next time I will let you choke.”
“Spare me your harsh words…” Raven groaned, rolling around on the floor as though
she were still dying. She was on the floor, her hands on her stomach and a
thoroughly pained expression on her face with her cheeks wet with tears, and when
Abby walked in a moment later, she was startled to say the least.
“What happened?” She cried, almost dropping the basket of bread rolls from her
hands. “Are you okay?”
“It’s okay, Raven just decided today was the day she’d tempt fate.” Clarke quipped,
a smile still tugging at her lips.
“Where’s Anya?”
“She’s in the shower.”
“Correction: she’s become one with the shower,” Raven interjected from her place on
the floor. “I think a year in Senegal on various camps and whatnots doesn’t include
too many functional warm-water showers.”
“That is true,” Abby agreed with a smile. “Here, have at it. Don’t eat too much
though, I’ve got an entire turkey on it’s way. I expect all of you to eat as much
as you can.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Raven saluted Abby, who shook her head at her before stepping over
her body and walking out of the dining room.
They were surprised by the sound of the front door opening, and in the next moment
a man emerged into the dining room.
“Happy Thanksgiving, kids!” Marcus greeted them all with a wave, a wide smile on
his face. His cheeks were red, as was his nose, and Clarke didn’t have to glance to
the yard to know that his Harley Davidson was parked neatly in the driveway. He had
never been the one for cars, and Clarke had always thought he was too cool to be
related to her mom.
“Happy Thanksgiving, uncle Marcus,” Clarke stood and went over to hug her uncle,
who looked like he always did; clad in jeans and a dark blue button-up shirt, his
eyes withheld the same playfulness as always. His beard had grown since Clarke had
last seen him, but he was still the same uncle she’d known all her life.
“So, who’s joining us this Thanksgiving?”
Clarke panicked slightly, not sure how to introduce to her uncle that she had a
wife, and Lexa couldn’t help but laugh when she saw her get flustered.
“Well, you know me,” Raven greeted him with a wave from the floor, saving Clarke
from the awkwardness. “And then there’s Anya, Abby’s colleague. She’s in the
shower. And Clarke, of course. Oh, and Clarke’s wife.”
Marcus gaped at Raven for a long while, his mouth hanging open. He then turned to
look at Clarke, still not speaking, and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh nervously.
“Uh, yeah. Marcus, this is Lexa.”
Lexa had stood up and come to stand near them, and she now politely offered him her
hand. Marcus took her hand and shook it, surprise still evident on his face, and
Lexa couldn’t help but smile.
“Wife?” Marcus finally managed, his eyes darting between Lexa and Clarke. “Clarke,
is Raven joking?”
“Uh, no.”
“You got married!?”
“Yeah. Please don’t get mad about not getting an invite, it happened in Vegas by
accident and mom wasn’t even there.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Of course. Because there’s no other way I’d accept you
getting married and not inviting me. I didn’t even get to give a speech.”
“You’re welcome to give one today,” Abby chuckled as she walked in to give him a
hug. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Is this a new thing?”
“Sort of and not really,” Clarke shrugged. “We got married in February but I didn’t
remember until a few weeks ago.”
“And…you’re happy?”
“Yeah. We’re happy.” Clarke smiled and took Lexa’s hand, and saw her uncle’s eyes
shine with pride.
“Well, that’s something I didn’t expect to see. But I’m glad to welcome you to the
family, Lexa.”
Lexa was baffled to say the least. This man, Clarke’s uncle, had only just met her
and found out she was married to his niece, and he was completely fine with it. No
anger, no ‘it is a sin’, nothing but a smile and a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
“What happened to your arm?”
“I got in a car accident.”

“Ouch. But you’re okay, right?”
Lexa’s eyes flickered to meet Clarke’s, and she smiled. “Never better.”
* * *
The hype about Abby’s cooking had not been in vain. The dinner was excellent, as
was the conversation that accompanied it, and by the end the whole company was
rendered incapable of coherent thoughts or even movement. All four girls were
laying on the dining room floor much like Raven had been earlier, completely
satisfied and happy and just the tiniest bit drunk on Marcus’s infamous apple
cider. Abby and Marcus were in the kitchen, having a talk of their own – it was
quite obvious that it was about Clarke and her wife, but Clarke did not mind. She
knew the conversation was only positive, with no judgement from either of them.
That was how her family worked, and she was incredibly proud of how well both of
them had taken her accidental gay marriage.
“Y’know, Clarke, I have an important question. You ready?”
Clarke rolled her head to the side to look at Raven. “Yeah.”
“What’s your last name?”
Clarke looked at her, perplexed. “Griffin?”
“What’s yours, Lexa?”
Lexa froze. “I…Woods, I guess?”
“Don’t you want to take Clarke’s last name? Clarke and Lexa Griffin. I think it
sounds cool. Anya, tell them it’s cool," Raven demanded, swatting at Anya's stomach
to get her to speak.
“It’s pretty cool. Although I’d find it weird that your last name would be the same
as my boss’s.” Anya groaned from a little ways’ to Raven’s left. She swatted back
at Raven, who only chuckled and shoved her arm away, and Anya was too tired to keep
going.
Clarke turned her head to the side to see an astonished look in Lexa’s eye. “You
did say you hated your name,” she pointed out, offering her a warm smile. “We could
get it changed. No more Alexandria Woods.”
“Lexa Griffin.” Lexa said quietly, tasting the name in her mouth. "No more
Alexandria Woods."
Clarke leaned in and pressed a kiss onto Lexa’s temple. “What do you say?”
“I’d…yes, okay. I’m going to be Mrs. Griffin.”
“That makes you sound old.”
“Well it’s the proper prefix.”
“Still, makes you sound at least 100.”

“Oh hush,” Lexa murmured.
“You can’t shush me, I’m your wife.”
“That’s exactly why I can shush you. Cause you’re stuck with me forever,” Lexa
muttered as she crawled over to silence Clarke's complaints with a determined kiss.
“God, you two are disgusting,” Anya groaned. “I’m glad you’re happy, Lexa, but you
two are so disgustingly cute I’m getting cavities from the sweetness.”
“Or maybe it was mom’s double-stuffed oreo brownie pudding,” Clarke offered.
“That’s like 99% sugar and 1% diabetes.”
“We should get rings.” Lexa said suddenly, her eyes widening with sudden
realization. “We don’t have rings.”
“You want a ring?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s get you a ring,” Clarke smiled. “But I warn you, I have literally
negative money. So your ring is probably gonna be one of those ring candy things.”
“I’ll pay.”
“I’m not sure I’ll like that.”
“What, you have a problem with getting things for free?”
“I’d like to think I purchased the piece of metal that tellsthe world that you’re
my wife.”
“Okay, how about I give you money as a Thanksgiving present and you use that?”
“Thanksgiving presents aren’t a thing.”
“I just made them a thing.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“Learn to deal with it.”
* * *
It took them two days to actually recover from the Thanksgiving feast, and so, two
days after Thanksgiving, Clarke, Lexa, Raven and Anya piled into Raven’s wreck of a
car and drove to Baltimore with two intentions; changing Lexa’s name and buying the
married couple rings. After they’d managed to set up a court hearing and gotten all
the necessary documents to start the process, they headed downtown in search of the
‘perfect’ ring.
Four shops and probably a hundred rings later they found themselves exiting a
jeweler with two freshly engraved rings in hand. The first shop they’d exited
immediately after the jeweler had asked whether they were planning for a double
wedding. The second hadn’t had any rings small enough for Lexa’s slender fingers,
and the third’s selection just hadn’t been up to their tastes. From the fourth,
though, they found the perfect ones. Neither Lexa nor Clarke wanted anything
especially showy, and they ended up choosing simple golden ring with different
stones for each; Lexa’s had a row of three small aquamarines, and Clarke’s had
emeralds, to resemble the eye color of the other – Raven had thought it was way too
cheesy, and she’d been backed up by Anya, but both Clarke and Lexa had felt it was
right. They had, of course, gotten the rings engraved, both with a personal
message.
They didn’t put the rings on immediately. Despite neither of them really wanting a
wedding whatsoever, they did both agree that the exchanging of the rings should at
least be somewhat Romantic. Neither Clarke nor Lexa knew what was engraved into
their own ring, as they had decided to keep it a secret until they had exchanged
them.
Clarke took Lexa to her favorite place in the nearby park, which was a secluded
bench on a hill overlooking Baltimore and the sea. The sun was shining, and it was
actually warm; the sea glimmered in the shining light, and for a while, they just
sat there quietly enjoying the view.
“Ok. Wanna exchange rings now?”
Lexa turned to look at Clarke and felt her stomach flip with excitement. “Yes, I
do.”
“Oh right. I do too,” Clarke chuckled. She pulled out the ring box from her pocket
and opened it. “I’ll put this on your right hand for now, since, you know…your left
hand is kinda unavailable at the moment.”
Lexa just smiled and held out her right hand, and watched gleefully as Clarke
slipped the ring onto her ring finger. She then did the same for Clarke, but this
time she kept her eyes fixed on Clarke’s face. The joy that seemed to radiate from
Clarke’s being was one which Lexa felt also, and she couldn’t resist pulling Clarke
in for a kiss.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Clarke breathed in between kisses, one hand resting
on Lexa’s jaw and another on her knee. “Oh, fuck, this is so much better than a
wedding.”
Lexa pulled away and grinned. “It is. No embarrassing speeches or walking or
standing up in front of everyone.”
“I would have liked to see you in a dress, though.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that, Clarke.”
“Ok, now I’m going to look at the engraving,” Clarke said excitedly as she pulled
the ring off. Lexa waited quietly, and grinned wildly when she heard laughter
ripple from Clarke’s lips.
“Really!? That’s the engraving!?”
“What? I thought it was perfect. Raven did too.”
“It was Raven’s idea entirely, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was," Lexa admitted. Clarke rolled her eyes, and Lexa continued: "What? I
figured I’d give her some input, since she never got to organize a bachelorette
party for you or be your maid of honor.”
Clarke just smirked and went back to stare at the engraving. On one side of the
inside of the ring, there was the date of their wedding and their initials - this
was on both their rings. On the other side there was a text which read, in fine
cursive: ‘ ** _Put it back on’_**.
“That’s so Raven.”
“It’s nice, right?”
“It’s perfect. Now I have no excuse to ever take it off.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re mine,” Lexa murmured, “And I want the whole world to know."
“Why aren’t you looking at your engraving?”
Lexa lifted her left arm to show off her cast. “Can’t get the ring off without
help.”
“Oh, right,” Clarke said as she took Lexa’s hand into hers and carefully maneuvered
the ring off. She chuckled when she saw Lexa’s eye widen in surprise when she saw
the word engraved onto her ring.
“Jackpot?”
Clarke nodded. “I might have lost at every game that I played in Vegas, but I still
hit the jackpot. And by that I mean you, in case that wasn’t clear.”
Lexa rolled her eyes at the cheesy line, but Clarke just grinned smugly as she slid
the ring back onto Lexa’s finger. “It’s perfect, you can’t say it isn’t.”
“Of course I can’t.”
“I did hit the jackpot, though. And I didn’t even realize it.”
“We’re almost to our one year anniversary, you know.”
“Crazy, huh?”
“It’s what, three months away?”
“Now that we’re married and, well, staying married, I have a very important
question to ask you.”
“Do go on.”
“Do you want to move in with me?”
“Didn’t you say you’re living with Raven at the moment?”
Clarke frowned. She’d forgotten about that. “Right.”
“But I would love to live with you.”
“Really?”
“You know, you never asked where else I have properties.”

“I forgot.”
“Would you like to know?”
“Tell me.”
“Phoenix, Los Angeles, Chicago, Boston and New York.”
“You have a place in New York?”
“A three bedroom top-floor loft in Manhattan.”
“Holy fucking shit.” Clarke breathed. “That’s…holy shit. I don’t even want to know
how much it’s worth. And it’s all yours? I mean, all of them?”
“Perks of having a conservative father who opposes the whole institution of

taxation.” Lexa shrugged.
“You…you’re never going to have to work.”
“Neither would you, unless you want to.”
“I can’t just live off your money. I’d feel like a gold-digger.”
“Well, technically it’s our money. Would that help?”
Clarke shrugged. “Maybe. But what am I supposed to do with myself all day with no
job to go to?”
“You could draw. And paint. Whatever you want.”
Clarke’s eyes widened. “You mean…I could have my own studio?”
“Yes.” Lexa breathed, amused at Clarke’s astonishment. “Whatever you want, my

love.”
Clarke shuddered and inhaled sharply. All she had ever really wanted was to be
financially stable enough to have all the time she wanted to make art. So far, she
hadn’t managed to achieve that.
And now Lexa was offering it to her, no, Lexa was giving it to her like it was the
most natural thing in the world.
“I’d still work.” Clarke decided. “Part-time, I don’t care really, I want to be
bringing _something_ to the table.”
“That’s fine,” Lexa shrugged. “I might try and find a job too. Having savings is
one thing, but the market isn’t exactly reliable. And I can’t entirely trust that
my parents won’t find some loophole and take back all their assets.”
“So we’re moving to Manhattan.”
“If New York’s where you really want to live, then yes.”
“Don’t you have any preference?”
“So long as it’s away from my parents and with you, no.” Lexa sighed. “Oh, and you
can ask if Raven wants to live with us, too. The loft’s sort of part of a bigger
complex that includes a pretty nice studio apartment.”
“You’d do that?”
“I like Raven. And I figure she’d practically live at our place anyway. Of course,
I’d ask for rent, but I’d be a very lenient landlord.”
“Fuck, she’ll love that. She hates her apartment. It’s got a rat she’s named Fat
George, and apparently he enjoys gnawing on just about everything in her place.”
“That sounds…wonderful.”
“You think she’ll take it?”
“Raven may be an asshole but she’s not stupid.”
> anyhow, what'd you guys think? Pretty awesome, right?

> i got the absolute best idea for another AU(i stg someone is streaming them into
my brain from the great beyond) and that might be up somewhere along the next week
- will have to see.
> once again, come stalk me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear, i'm thinking of making a
separate blog for fandom stuff but that's for later
16. Chapter 16
> ok yes tonights chapter isn't as long as the previous ones but the following ones
will be long again
> i've got some serious drinking to do tonight (if any of you guys know what
abiturs are, then you know what i'm talking abt) but i still got y'all a chapter
cause im nice, but if i dont upload tomorrow its probably because im dying from a
hangover
> warning: Ranya shit happens
Two nights was as far as Anya’s patience went. Two nights spent sleeping on an air
mattress in Abby’s study with Raven. Raven, who was adorable and insufferable and
annoying and had god-awful yet stellar humor – Raven, who had absolutely no ability
to remain still while sleeping. Two whole nights Anya endured Raven’s continuous
tossing and turning, and the tiny mutters and grumbles that the brunette let out on
an almost periodical pattern; but the third night she was so tired that she could
no longer stick it out.
Anya wasn’t a light sleeper, not in the slightest, but on an air mattress even the
slightest movement caused the whole bed to shake. And Raven was moving around, a
lot – way too much even. Anya managed to endure just about her limit of Raven
accidentally swatting at her face and stomach before groaning and trying to wake
her up.
But Raven was fast asleep, a small dribble of drool trickling from the corner of
her mouth, and Anya groaned yet again in frustration. No amount of shaking or
coaxing was enough to wake her, not when she was in deep sleep. Raven slept like a
dead body, as Clarke said, and Anya soon realized there was no use in trying to
wake her up.
“This fucking idiot…”

She laid back down and tried to go back to sleep, but not a moment later Raven
turned again, and her arm collided with Anya’s cheek, and she then decided she’d
had enough. Swiftly as she could, she turned Raven so that she was facing away from
her and wrapped her arms around her, effectively trapping her against her body and
thus preventing her from moving. She shuffled closer, pulling Raven’s sleeping body
up to her own, and laid her head down onto the pillow just close enough that a few
of Raven’s hairs tickled her face.
She was surprised how good it felt.
And that surprise soon led to her being annoyed, but she was too tired to care.
After all, she valued her sleep and Raven seemed to have calmed down now that her
arms were around her.
So what if her heart had started racing as though she were dying when she’d fully
realized that she was essentially spooning her all-too-fast developing crush.
* * *
Raven woke up in the morning feeling both constricted and incredibly comfortable.
She did not at first realize why this was, or why she’d woken. Slowly, as she drew
out of her haze, she became overcome with the feeling that someone was watching
her. She cracked one eye open and found Lexa standing in the doorway of the study,
her green eyes staring at her and a sly grin plastered on her face.
Raven wondered why, but only for the briefest of moments.
And then she realized that there was a body pressed up against hers, and arms
around her, and a face pressed into her neck, gentle breaths tickling her skin at
constant, slow intervals. She didn’t need to look to know that it was Anya. The
realization and knowledge that Anya was _spooning_ her would have surely made
Raven swoon, were it not for the fact that she was laying down.
In Anya's arms.
She was laying in bed, in Anya's arms.
And Lexa was staring at them with an insufferable grin on her face.
“Go away Lexa,” Raven grumbled. “And don’t you dare tell Clarke about this.”
“Are you-“
“No.”
“Then why-“
“I have no idea and I’d like to find out. Now go.”
Lexa threw Raven one annoyed look before turning on her heel and shutting the door
after her. As soon as she’d done that, Raven turned round roughly and shook Anya
awake.
“Wake up.”
Anya groaned and tried to hide her face in the pillow. Her arms were still around
Raven’s waist, and Raven had no intentions of letting them go. She just wanted Anya
to wake up and explain why they were there in the first place. So far as she knew,
they had gone to bed with a respective space in between them. Whatever had happened
between then and now to cause them to end up spooning both confused and excited
Raven to no end.
“Anya.”
“Fuck off Raven.”
“Can’t, you’re clinging to me like a baby.”
That’s when Anya woke up. She stared at Raven, staring at her with her eyes full of
confusion and amusement, and groaned audibly when she realized she was still
holding onto Raven. Her arms slid away from Raven’s waist, and Raven was sad to
let them go. They had made her feel warm in ways she hadn't felt in years.
“Why were you spooning me?”
“You’re just about the worst sleeper in the world,” Anya grumbled as she sat up,
rubbing at her eyes, “I did what I had to do to get some sleep.”
“What do you mean worst sleeper?”
“You can’t stay still. And you keep hitting me. It’s like you’re trying to fight me
in your sleep, only your efforts are half-assed and mostly just annoying.”
Raven was surprised to hear that. She wasn’t exactly one to be sharing beds with
people, and Clarke was such a sound sleeper she was sure the blonde wouldn’t have
noticed even if she’d thrown her off the bed. So far as she was concerned, Raven
was completely unaware of her sleeping habits.
“You could have woken me up.”
“I tried to.”
“Well, I’m sorry I'm an active sleeper.”
“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I’ll have to keep you restrained when we
sleep.”
To that, Raven found she had no response.
None whatsoever.
Raven Reyes was not one to be rendered speechless. No, she certainly was not. But
now she was trying to think of something smart to say and found herself drawing a
complete blank.
Had Clarke known this, she would have surely laughed.
Raven always had something to say, after all.
“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”
And then Raven recovered herself.
“No, I’m just trying to figure out whether I got a good punch in.”
“My ribs can confirm that you did.”
“Well, then, I’m extremely sorry for being an active sleeper, again,” Raven grinned
as she stood up and walked out of the study. She was thoroughly flustered, but she
did not show it – no, definitely not, because Clarke was in the dining room with
Lexa and her mother and she would have certainly noticed. Lexa threw Raven a sly
smirk as she sat down, and Raven responded with an inaudible grumble which only the
brunette caught.
“It’s cute,” Lexa whispered to her. “You and Anya. Weird, but cute.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re definitely going to suffer.”
“Oh shut up Lexa.”
“What are you two talking about?” Clarke asked, eyeing her wife and best friend in
concern.
“I asked her whether you still snored,” Raven smiled as she reached over for some
eggs, “And she said yes.”
“No I didn’t!” Lexa interjected with a gentle swat to Raven’s arm.
Clarke rolled her eyes and laughed gently, seemingly oblivious to the secret that
only she and her mother were excluded from.
Except Abby had gone into the study earlier to retrieve a book, and was certain
that her favorite colleague and Clarke’s best friend were a couple. After all, they
were sleeping together with not a breath in between their sleeping forms.
She had thought it was rather sweet.
So really, Clarke was the only one with no clue why Anya and Raven sat on far ends
of the table and barely exchanged any words during breakfast, or the rest of the
day for that matter. But she paid no further mind to that fact, deciding that Raven
would talk to her if and when she was ready.
* * *
“Ok, now what do we do?”
Clarke, Lexa, Raven and Anya were all sitting around the dining table. It was three
days after Thanksgiving, and Raven and Anya were growing tired of sleeping on an
air mattress on the floor.
It was time to decide their next step.
“I don’t know, really.” Clarke shrugged. “I’ve still got a week off work and I’m
thinking about quitting anyway, so I don’t have to go straight back to New York.”
“Me neither,” Raven grinned. “Luckily my manager loves me, I managed to negotiate
another week for myself.”
“How did you do that?”
“I’m literally the only employee who knows what’s up. So long as I’m there for the
Christmas rush, Sinclair’s fine with everything.”
“Ok, how about you?” Clarke asked, looking at Anya.
“I just came back from Africa. I don’t have anything special to do,” Anya
shrugged.
“You guys wanna keep this road trip going?”
Lexa smiled. “I’d like to, at least.”
“Same here.”
“I guess.”
Clarke grinned. “Ok. Should we make a plan or are you all more for the
spontaneity?”
“We might want to at least take a map this time.”
“And a proper tool kit.”
“Hey! Don’t judge me for forgetting it. I loaned it to Bell and he still hasn’t
given it back.”
“Your car is such a wreck.”
“Gloria’s my baby and I won’t have you judging her.” Raven growled. “Besides, even
if she decides to break down, you’ve got the best mechanic in the States to fix
it.”
“Won’t work if you haven’t got a tool kit. That time in Albuquerque was just dumb
luck.”
“Fine, fine. So we’ll go shopping. Lexa needs a new phone anyway, right? Oh, and
playing cards. We’re so playing poker.”
Clarke chuckled. This was going to be fun.
“Could we try and go through all the states?”
All three women looked at Lexa, and all three shrugged and said almost unanimously:
“Sure, why not?”
* * *
And so they set out the next morning up north towards New York. Their plan was very
vague, consisting mainly of a list of all the states which they’d tick off as they
went. They first headed up towards New York so that they could stop off at Raven’s
place to collect some fresh and better equipped clothes. They also stopped by on
Long Island to rid themselves of Anya's year's worth of Africa luggage, as well as
to allow her to retrieve clothes that did not consist of shorts and t-shirts.
Clarke and Lexa made it their mission to be as insufferable as possible during this
time. This insufferability ranged from overflowing affectionate cuddles to the
cheesiest pickup lines (‘did you sit on a pile of sugar ‘cause you’ve got a sweet
ass’) to just continuous kissing.
The kissing they didn’t mind.
Nor did they really mind all the other things, either. After that first night in
Clarke’s old bedroom, the two of them hadn’t spent a night apart. Not that either
of them wanted to, of course. Even with only one hand in use, Lexa was very capable
of rendering Clarke incapable of speech or coherent thoughts, and she was very
eager to do so whenever she could.
“We didn’t get a honeymoon,” she would say, “I’m just making up for lost time.”
Clarke, of course, had no problem with that or with reciprocating the favors. Raven
and Anya soon learned to not ask for adjacent rooms, as neither of the married pair
were very good at keeping themselves quiet at night and most motel room walls were
very thin.
“This was a mistake,” Raven groaned one morning when she saw Lexa and Clarke
practically dry-humping one another in the back seat, “I can’t take this anymore.”
She pulled over on the side of the road and promptly got out of the car. She pulled
open the door behind Lexa and promptly leaned in past the two girls, who were now
looking at her, annoyed at the interruption.
“Raven, what are you doing?”
“Joining in, of course,” Raven snarked as she reached over Clarke’s shoulder and
retrieved the blanket, which he draped it over the front seats to serve as a
curtain. “No, I’m trying to give you guys at least some privacy because there’s
only so much PDA I can take.”
“Raven, I have literally seen you having sex. On multiple occasions,” Clarke
pointed out. “You can withstand some making out.”
“I might, but your considerably less kinky best friend can’t,” Raven smirked at
Lexa.
Lexa blushed and hid her face in Clarke’s neck. “It’s not like we’re having sex.”
“You’re just one piece of clothing away from sex.”
“Go away, Raven.”
“Now, is that the right way to speak to your chauffeur?”
“Oh hush. We’ve still got at least an hour before we get to Houston.”
“Right. I’ve already got a place I have to see.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“A house made of beer cans.”
“Of course.”
* * *
After an appropriate amount of photos had been taken of Raven and the infamous beer
can house, the group found themselves walking down some greater street in downtown
Houston in search of a place to eat. It was chilly, and a sharp wind was blowing
along the road and at their faces. All of their cheeks were a pretty rosy pink,
although Clarke had a scarf so big it was practically impossible to see much of her
face. She walked with her arm hooked through Lexa’s, both of their hands in their
own pockets because it was cold. Anya and Raven walked like so too, only their
intention was to mock the married couple behind them. Anya had only agreed
begrudgingly when Raven had promptly slipped her arm through hers, but neither of
the two were able to fully conceal the fact that they thoroughly enjoyed the
contact.
And then Clarke’s phone rang, and all four of them froze in their tracks.
“Hello?”
“Hello miss Griffin, this is Gustus.”
“Hello Gustus,”Clarke said leaning in closer so that Lexa could hear at least part
of what he was saying. She would have put the call on speaker, but the wind was
blowing and if she had then the call would have been indecipherable on both ends.
“Is this a good time?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Is something wrong?”
“I’m afraid Miss Woods’s parents have filed for an annulment of your marriage.”
“An annulment?”
Clarke felt her heart leap to her chest, and with a glance to Lexa she saw her eyes
were wide and her face paler than she’d ever seen it. Raven and Anya looked
startled as well, but they were further away and did not quite understand what was
going on.
“How…can they even do that?”
“Yes, since Miss Woods is…mentally and legally incompetent.”
“I thought I was a viable guardian?”
“Yes, but through their parental rights, so are they.”
Lexa suddenly grabbed the phone from Clarke, who put up no fight whatsoever. After
all, Lexa was the one who had gone to Harvard Law. She walked a few feet away from
Clarke, and for a long while, she paced around, talking quickly into the phone.
From just the speed of her pacing came across the fact that she was extremely
stressed; her hand gripped the phone just a little too tightly, and her jaw was
clenched in a manner Clarke had learned to recognize signaled extreme distress for
Lexa.
When she returned to her a few minutes later, Clarke knew their chances of having a
light-hearted dinner were long gone.
“What’d he say?”
Lexa sighed and wrapped her arms around Clarke, unsure of what to say. “He…they
have a solid case, Clarke. But Gustus said he had a plan.”
“What plan?”
“He wouldn’t tell me the details, not yet. We’re due for a court hearing in Nevada
in a week.”
“That’s…ok, so we go to Nevada. And then what?”
“Then my parents will try to prove to the court that you took advantage of my
mental incompetency and employed fraud to force me into a marriage in which only
you are benefiting.”
Clarke’s blood was boiling, and she yearned to sink a good hard punch into either
one of Lexa’s parents’ faces. Or maybe both. “They…you said it’s a solid case?”
“I am legally incompetent, Clarke. And they never lose a case.”
“They will lose this one,” Clarke muttered. “We will win, Lexa. We’ll just…I don’t
know what we’ll do, I don’t really understand law.”
“So far as I know, we’d win easily if we could prove that I wasn’t mentally
incompetent.”
“Then let’s do that.”
“But I don’t know how.”
“Gustus said he had a plan, right? Don’t worry, Lexa. Let’s wait and see what he
has in mind,” Clarke spoke words of reassurance despite the fact that panic had now
very clearly nestled itself within her chest and gut. She had only heard of the
ruthlessness and coldness the Woods’ displayed in court, and had no doubts that
they were a hard fish to fry.
Perhaps even impossible.
_No, not impossible_ , Clarke grumbled in her mind, _we will win._
“Clarke?”
Clarke looked up at Lexa and saw not sorrow or hurt, but a half-assed attempt at
hiding the fury that had flared up within. This fury was not directed at Clarke,
that much was obvious – Lexa was furious with her parents, and Clarke now realized
just how scary her wife actually could be.
“Yeah?”
“We’ll get through this.”
Clarke stared at Lexa, dumbfounded. She had assumed she would be the one to be
saying similar words to Lexa; she had thought that Lexa would break like she had
the first time she had confronted her parents, and that she would have to help her
regain herself again. But Lexa was determined and headstrong and furious to the
point where Clarke wondered whether she could make her parents spontaneously
combust on the spot.
Lexa was strong. Clarke had known that for a long time. But now she was seeing this
strength in a new light, and it gave her hope.
“Yeah, we’ll get through this.”
> told ya shit was gonna happen

> let the angst ensue (but don't worry, it won't be overflowing or anything because
i love fluff)
> also i made myself a fandom side blog for my writing and fangirl shit, so go
check that out on tumblr @clexy-polarbear
> come follow me, i post updates abt my chapters and answer questions and also rant
about possible fics that i'm still drafting out
17. Chapter 17
> I DID SO MUCH RESEARCH FOR THIS AND THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS I HOPE YOU APPRECIATE
THAT
> things are escalating and i know its getting painful but i promise beautiful
things happen in between
“Ok, Lexa, now you have to explain it to me.”
Clarke smiled when Lexa groaned loudly and slumped her head against the back of
Anya’s seat. “I don’t want to.”
“Please, we’re only two days away from Carson City. I’d like to know what I’m
getting myself into. What we're getting ourselves into.”
Lexa did not sit up; if anything, she leaned more heavily against the seat, and
grumbled under her breath before finally sighing and speaking.
“You know what an annulment is, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And the conditions with which it can be granted?”
“No.”
“Well in our case they’re pleading that I was neither mentally capable to be
getting married but also that there was fraud involved. Also the fact that we were
slam drunk.”
“And what do you mean by fraud?”
“That you married me for my money. They will be asking for financial statements and
your work history, and from what I’ve heard they will be able to use that against
you.”
Clarke rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. “So it’s
basically illegal to be poor in this case.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”

“But how can they be the ones filing for an annulment? Isn’t that something spouses
should be doing?”
“I’m mentally and legally incapacitated. They filed it on my behalf.”
“You weren’t incapacitated when we got married.”
“Yes, but they claim that my mental status was already unhealthy when we got
married,” Lexa grumbled, “And they will be successful at that. I’ve never seen them
lose.”
“Lexa, stop talking about losing. We’re not losing.”
“But if we do, then I will be at my parents’ mercy. Again. And this time there
won’t be a way out.”
Lexa spoke so quietly Clarke barely heard her, but she did and when the realization
hit her it broke her heart. She had forgotten about how dire the situation was;
having forgotten that the only reason Lexa was able to be with her was her
conservatorship over her, she had only considered the annulment as a threat to
their marriage.
But now she realized that it wasn’t about that. If they got an annulment, Lexa
would be gone from her forever.
She shuffled over in the seat and slowly wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist,
pulling her into her lap and nuzzling her face in her neck. Lexa sighed and hugged
her tight, her entire body tense with the fear that she had tried so well to hide
for the past five days.
“I’m not going back to them,” she murmured, “I can’t, I’d rather die than let them
control me again.”
“Then have faith that we’ll win, Lexa.”
“I hope we win.”
“That’s not the same thing as faith.”
“I don’t know if I have any.”
Clarke tightened her arms around her and sighed. “Yes, you do. We’re going to go to
Carson City and to this court hearing, and then we’ll prove to them that they’re
wrong and then we’ll kick your parents’ asses. Figuratively, not literally.”
“You’re cute,” Lexa said softly, “But it’s not that simple. They filed for the
annulment, which means that they’ll be representing me.”
“What?”
“Gustus will be representing you.”
“Why didn’t you say this earlier?”
“I wanted to pretend like we had hope.”
Clarke pulled away then and reached up to cup Lexa’s face with both her hands.
“You’re an idiot.”
“But I'm right.”
“No, you’re a pessimist and a realist, but I’m an optimist and we’re damn well not
screwing up this marriage.”
“That’s my girl!” Raven cried from the front seat, and Clarke tossed an empty soda
can at her to shut her up.
“This is a private conversation!”
“Which we can’t help hearing,” Raven retorted. “Sorry, I had to say that, do
continue.”
Clarke rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Lexa. “But seriously. What
actually happens when we get there?”
“Most likely they’ll spend an hour slandering you in court for just about
everything in your existence, and then they’ll call for an immediate annulment.
That won’t be given until I’ve undergone a psych evaluation, so we’ll have a few
days to prep before the second hearing.”
“What’s Gustus’s plan?”
“He said he’ll tell us when we get there. It’s…I’m not sure, really. He’s been very
busy.”
“Well then we better hurry up,” Clarke said softly. Lexa’s eyes refused to meet
Clarke’s own, and she sighed gently. “Lexa, it’ll be fine.”
“I know you can think that, but I know my parents and the reality of the
situation.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“What if it isn’t?”
Clarke couldn’t tell Lexa what would happen if it wasn’t going to be fine. She
couldn’t promise her that everything would be fine; she had no idea what she’d do
if her parents won, if their marriage was annulled, and it terrified her to the
core. She knew and saw that Lexa was afraid as well, but knew Lexa needed not to
think of the worst outcomes. And so she smiled, and kissed her gently, and
whispered: “It’ll be fine.”
Because she truly needed to believe that in her heart and in her soul.
* * *
Driving along the landscapes of Utah was not very entertaining. It had been at
first, when there had been rivers and small towns and valleys with magnificently
green hills within them – but for the past hour, all they had seen were sandy rocky
flats and nothing but the pale blue sky above them. Clarke and Lexa were asleep,
with Clarke pressed and cradled against Lexa’s chest while Lexa’s arms held her
tighter than what was perhaps necessary. There was no radio signal, and Anya was
promptly ignoring Raven’s attempts at conversation, claiming the pair in the back
needed their sleep despite knowing that both Clarke and Lexa were sleeping soundly.
Anya was trying not to connect with Raven any more than she already had. It had
only been a few weeks and she could feel herself falling for the insufferable idiot
more and more with each passing conversation and shining smile which made her feel
as though all that existed in the world was the sheer joy that seemed to radiate
from those beautifully curved lips.
Raven was so easy to be with, and Anya disliked that. She didn't trust what she was
feeling, and the fact that she was developing feelings towards a blundering
trainwreck of an asshole did not help.
But the blundering trainwreck of an asshole was also the sweetest and funniest and
cutest person Anya had met in a while.
The fact was that she couldn’t figure Raven out. Sometimes it seemed like the
brunette was nervous around her, and Anya couldn’t count the times she’d rendered
her speechless, accidentally or on purpose. She wanted to think that Raven was
attracted to her, but it was impossible for her to be sure. Raven smiled at her,
but she did so too with everyone else she interacted with. Raven talked a lot with
her, but that may have just been because their two other companions were thoroughly
entangled with one another.
But then there were the lingering looks and the way Raven sometimes looked away and
bit her lip – Anya knew she was biting her lip because her jaw would move just
slightly and then clench. And Anya also knew, from what Clarke had mentioned in
passing, that when Raven bit her lip she was suppressing something.
No, there was certainly something going on with Raven.
“Ok, you know what, I’m bored.”
Anya looked up in surprise when Raven pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to do something I’ve been burning to do ever since Houston,” Raven
smirked.
Anya looked at her incredulously, wondering whatever the hell she was talking
about. “What?”
The brunette tutted and tapped at her nose gently. “Just you wait.”
And then she got out of the car and left Anya sitting in her seat, startled and
confused and slightly hopeful.
Perhaps she was right about Raven after all.
The trunk of the car was opened, and this roused Clarke from her sleep. She yawned
widely, and slowly sat up, eliciting a tiny whimper from Lexa who woke up to find
her trying to wriggle herself out of her arms. Clarke sighed when Lexa's arms
tightened around her, and settled back against her, seeing no use in fighting her
currently clingy wife.
“Why’d you stop?” Clarke asked.
Anya turned to look at them and shrugged. “I don’t know. Raven said she was bored.”
“Oh no.”
“What?” Anya asked, brows furrowing in confusion. Clarke ignored her and instead
turned to face the back of the car and Raven who stood behind it.
“Raven!”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you’re doing the thing.”
“I’m doing the thing.”
“Raven, you could die.”
“Clarke, it’s badass. Besides you just have to drive really slow.”
“What if there's another car?”
“Dude, we haven’t seen a car for three hours. I’m pretty sure humanity has ceased
to exist at this point. The world is just dead. It's like an apocalypse.”
“Oh shut up, Raven, you know this is a bad idea.”
“You think you can stop me?” Raven asked, raising the skateboard in her hands to
show her. There was a bright, wide smile on her face, and she looked like a child.
_“_ You’re a child.”
“Come help me set this up.”
Clarke groaned and went to get up, but was stopped by Lexa’s arms tightening around
her waist.
“Can someone tell me what's going on?” Lexa's green eyes were full of curiosity and
confusion, and Clarke smirked.
“Raven’s going to try and see how quickly she can split her skull.”
“What!?”
The fact that Anya was the one to react first was not lost on neither of the
married pair. Lexa glanced at Anya and smirked, while Clarke just stared at her for
a split second, mouth hanging open, before replying.
“She’s going to attach a rope to the back of the car and ride a skateboard while
holding it while I drive.”
“That’s idiotic.”
“No it’s not, it’s brilliant!” Raven quipped from behind the car. “Clarke, come on,
I suck at tying knots.”
“Like I’d be any better!”
“Didn’t you have that one girl-“
“Raven!”
Lexa’s face was now turned to Clarke, a mixture of confusion and amusement in her
expression. “What’s Raven talking about, Clarke?”
“Nothing,” Clarke muttered, her face now red, “It’s nothing.”
“Clarke..”
“I’m not talking with you about this.”
“About what?”
“About all the kinky sex she's had with her exes, that’s what!” Raven answered on
Clarke’s behalf.
“Raven if you want me to _not_ kill you while you’re riding a skateboard attached
to a car, you will shut up now,” Clarke growled as she darted out of the car. Lexa
was left sitting in the seat, thoroughly startled, and for a while, she wasn’t so
sure what to think. Only when Clarke returned and sat in the driver’s seat did she
finally speak.
“Kinky sex, huh?”
Clarke groaned at the insufferable grin on Lexa's face. “It was _one_ time! And
Raven just _had_ to walk in.”
“Then clearly Raven and I need to talk. I would love to hear this story,” Lexa
hummed, amused by Clarke's embarrassment. Her amusement just barely masked the
jealousy that had flared up within her, but she cared not to show it. After all,
she didn't even know this girl.
And Clarke was her wife. She trusted her wife.
“Oh no, you are not talking about that. I’d like to ignore the fact that any of
that ever happened, thank you very much.”
Raven stood behind the car, on the skateboard, with knee pads and a helmet on her
head and the dumbest smile on her face. The rope in her hands was held so tight her
knuckles were white, and she was excited to the point of wanting to puke.
“Anya, get out of the car and take a video of this!” she yelled. “I need this
documented for all of history!”
Anya groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Yes!”
With the most perfect eye roll, Anya grabbed her phone and got out of the car.
“Alright, fine. But you better not die.”
Raven smirked at her, and Anya couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll try my best,” she
said before turning to face the front and yelling:
“Ok, Clarke, hit it!”
Clarke did as told, and slowly, they began rolling along the road. They were moving
so slowly that Anya could easily walk beside Raven as she rolled along.
“Aw, come on, go a bit faster!”
And of course, Clarke did as told. Bit by bit, the car began going a bit faster,
and Raven along with it. In the end, the car was going about 20mph, and Raven was
speeding down the road while gleefully yelling at the top of her lungs.
“Yeah, bitches!”
Clarke slowly began slowing down the car, and for a while, it was all fine. But
then Raven’s skateboard hit a pothole and the next thing she knew she was in the
air and the rope was gone from her hands and the ground was coming at her way too
fast. She collided with the road with enough force to knock the air out of her
lungs, and she rolled over once before settling onto the asphalt on her back,
groaning in pain. Her entire left side was on fire, and she could already feel the
scrapes and carpet burns stinging at her arms.
“Fuck!"
Anya saw the pothole a split second before Raven hit it, and before she even hit
the ground she was running. She got to her before either Clarke or Lexa did, and
kneeled beside the groaning, swearing brunette.
“Clarke, can you bring me my bag? The medical bag?”
Clarke stared at Anya incredulously, confused because she was simultaneously

concerned for her friend and also surprised by the extent of Anya's worry. “You
brought a medical bag?”
“I figured one of you idiots would end up hurting yourselves. Clearly I was right.”
Clarke rolled her eyes and jogged back to the car, returning a moment later with
Anya’s bag. “Here.”
Anya smiled tightly and took the bag, her eyes only leaving Raven briefly before
returning to look at her in concern.
“Raven, are you ok?”
The brunette let out a labored laugh. “Do I _look_ ok?”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
"You sure?"
"You can check the video, I'm pretty sure I didn't."
“Okay, good. Where does it hurt?”
Raven stared at Anya for a while. “Um, everywhere?”
Anya sighed and pressed at her side. “Here?”
Raven winced. “Fucking shit.”
“Lay down flat on your back,” Anya ordered. Raven did as asked, and said nothing as
Anya went over to her feet and pulled off her shoes. “Wiggle your toes for me?”
Raven did, and Anya let out a breath of relief. “Your legs are fine. Good.”
“What? You thought I was paralyzed?”

“Considering one side of you is completely torn up and bloody, it was a safe
assumption to at least check,” Anya grumbled. “Can you sit up?”
Raven sat up slowly, cursing loudly as the burns and cuts along her skin burned
with pain. “Fucking hell.”
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Clarke chuckled.
“Shut up, Clarke, I might be dying. You don’t want your last words to me to be
sarcastic,” Raven grumbled. “Ah, fuck! Anya!”
Anya offered Raven an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to see whether or not you’ve
broken anything.” She pressed at Raven’s stomach, and she winced again. Raven was
in a world of confusion; Anya’s fingers on her skin were cool and gentle, and she
found her breath hitching at each touch; but she was also all-too-aware of the
throbbing pain that came with each press against her stomach or side, and couldn’t
help the curses that spilled from her lips.
“Ok, looks like you’re fine,” Anya finally said, patting Raven’s thigh gently.
“Fine? I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck!” Raven complained, extremely conscious
of Anya’s hand resting on her thigh. It was warm and nice and _Anya was touching
her thigh_. “My shirt is literally torn to pieces!”
“Shut up Raven, you’re fine. You’re a complete fucking idiot, but you’re fine. No
broken ribs or bones, no abdominal tenderness…you’re a bit battered and bruised,
but that can be cleaned up just fine,” Anya grumbled, rolling her eyes at the
brunette. “Come on, let’s get you off the road.”
She stood up and offered Raven a hand, and Clarke helped Anya take her to the car,
where she was sat in the back seat. Clarke took the wheel while Lexa sat out front,
leaving Raven in the back to be tended to by Anya. Clarke was by now all too aware
of Raven’s growing crush on Lexa’s best friend, and thought it too precious to mess
with. Lexa had of course told her about the time she had seen them spooning, but
the two of them had come to the ultimate conclusion that both Anya and Raven were
too stubborn to be coaxed.
They just had to figure their shit out on their own.
And so the next half an hour of the ride went by with Raven sitting topless before
Anya while she dabbed at her scrapes and cuts with antibacterial liquid to prevent
infection – a fact Anya had to repeat at least ten times before Raven allowed her
to do so. Some of the bigger scrapes had to be covered with bandages, and Anya took
extra care making sure the tiny scrape on Raven’s cheek was as clean as it could
be. She hated the thought of her face being tainted by a scar.
By nightfall they found themselves at a crappy roadside motel somewhere in the

middle of Nevada. Raven crawled into bed immediately, leaving the other three to go
out in search of some kind of food. There was a score of one restaurant in the
small town, and so they came back with innocuous amounts of Mexican food to satisfy
Raven’s rumbling stomach.
“Ok, so. Tomorrow we go to Carson City and we meet with Gustus.”
Lexa nodded. “Yes, and he’ll go over the procedure with you.”
“Not with you?”

“I…I told you, Clarke, I’m being represented by my parents.”
“You’re not going to meet them tomorrow, are you?”
Lexa sighed. “No, thank god, and they’re not representing me literally. They’re on
‘my side’, so to speak, but I will be represented by a public lawyer. Gustus
arranged for that.”
“Gustus?”
“I trust Gustus.”
“Doesn’t he work for your parents?”
“No, not anymore.”
Clarke stared at Lexa. “Wait, what?”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. I persuaded Gustus to leave
the family company and to take a position at another, because otherwise my parents
would have used him for their benefit. It was a preventative measure, that’s all.”
Clarke was still staring at Lexa, eyes wide. “You’re smart, you know that?”
The brunette smiled weakly. “Well, considering I went to Harvard…”
“Not that. Like…cunning smart.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
Clarke hooked her arms together around Lexa’s neck and pulled her close. “In this
fucked up situation, it definitely is.”
“You’re still so hopeful.”
“Well, Lexa, here’s the thing; there’s two outcomes. The first, our marriage is
annulled and your life goes down to shit and I go back to New York. I do not want
that. No, because the second outcome is that we kick your parents’ ass and I get to
keep my wife.”
“Keep me? Like I’m a possession?”
“Shut up,” Clarke murmured as she pressed a kiss onto Lexa’s lips, “You know what I
meant.”
Lexa sighed and pulled her even closer, moving to straddle her lap with an
unsurprising amount of grace. Clarke smiled against her lips and placed her hands
on Lexa’s waist, tight and firm as though to keep her in place, and when Lexa’s
tongue ran along her lip, she parted her lips to allow the kiss to deepen. There
was a sort of desperation held within each touch and kiss between them, within each
whimper and moan that escaped their mouths that night; but come morning, they awoke
in each other’s arms, and they then had faith that together they could scale the
world.
* * *
They met Gustus at the courthouse in the early hours of the afternoon. Clarke had
almost forgotten what he looked like, only having recalled the cool, collected look
that had resided within his eyes.
“Right, we should probably get to the actual agenda of our meeting.”
Clarke and Lexa sat before a desk while Gustus sat on the other side, a huge stack
of papers before him. He looked stressed, and Clarke felt worried. She was sure
Lexa was worried too, from the way her jaw was clenched and her eyes burned at the
figurine on the desk before them.
“You know what the situation is, I believe.”
“Yes, Gustus, we do. What I’d like to know is your plan of getting us out of this
situation.” Lexa said. Clarke glanced at her, slightly surprised; she was no longer
stressed and tense, but rather calm and cool, not cold but very close. Her hand had
Clarke’s hand encased within it, and Clarke could feel her pulse racing beneath the
finger she had pressed against Lexa’s wrist. No matter how cool she may have been
able to force herself to be, Lexa was not able to fully conceal her worry.
Gustus cleared his throat. “Well, as you know, I resigned from the Woods Legal
Services two weeks ago per your request. I then went on to take a position at
Porter&Ryder, which you may not know.”
“No, I do not.”
“Well, it is a legal firm which takes especial notion on human rights violations,
especially those against LGBT people. They will, through me as their
representative, represent Miss Griffin.”
Clarke glanced at Lexa and saw that she had paled. Since her wife seemed incapable
of speech at that moment, Clarke voiced the question she’d been burning to ask the
second she’d walked in.
“So what’s your actual plan?”
“To put it simply, we prove that Miss Woods is not and never was mentally
incompetent by proving that her parents manipulated not only medical professionals
but legal staff into making the decision to grant them conservatorship of Miss
Woods to prevent her from living the 'alternative lifestyle' they disapprove of.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Lexa asked, her voice small and doubtful.
“We prove that they have been abusing you for years,” Gustus said simply. “I have
all the paperwork here ready for you to file a child abuse suit.”
“We don’t have a solid case.”
“Actually, Miss Woods, we do. Given the recent developments, I have been able to
construct a case which I believe is near waterproof.”
“Why haven’t you said anything? It’s been _months_ , Gustus.”
“When your parents originally came to me to set in motion the conservatorship, I of

course followed the official guidelines. Those guidelines require that I check your
marital status, and you can imagine my surprise when I saw that you were married.”
“You knew!?”
Both Lexa and Clarke were startled, but Lexa even more so; she would've never
imagined Gustus doing something like this, knowing he could have been fired if her
parents had just ordered a double check on the paperwork. She hadn't thought he
cared so much.
“Yes, but I concealed the truth from your parents because I knew what they were
doing was illegal. I have been working for them for years, Miss Woods. I have seen
what they do to people, and it is downright disgusting,” Gustus spoke calmly, in a
matter-of-fact fashion; Clarke wondered just how she could have judged him so
wrong. He had thought him cold and stone-hearted, but it was becoming more and more
evident that he was anything but that.
“I have been gathering proof and facts ever since you turned fifteen, Miss Woods,
and they sent you to Boston. The Porter&Ryder group just recently won a lawsuit
against your former school for severe anti-gay conversion therapy which violates
just about every human right known to man, not to mention several child abuse
claims as well. It wasn’t publicized, but given the fact that you were a student at
that school and the fact that I have correspondence between the school and your
parents detailing their wishes for them to ‘correct her’ and to ‘beat it out of her
if you must’, I believe we can use that to consolidate our claim.”
“Gustus, this is an annulment hearing, not a lawsuit. There will be a psychological

evaluation, as well as some interviews, and then in the end they’ll decide. There’s
no secondary arguments whatsoever.”
Clarke felt that Lexa’s words seemed somehow weak, as though she were on the verge
of giving up. She hadn’t heard much about Lexa’s time in Boston, and what Gustus
had said had caused her heart to shatter.
“Yes, but my plan includes us filing this suit today. We will undo this hearing,
trust me. Your parents have a solid case, but that only works if their claim that
you are mentally incompetent stands true.”
“But it does.”
“That is for the psychologist to decide.”
“But I was sent to _rehab_ for four months. There’s hospital records.”
“There’s also a piece of correspondence between your mother and a former maid of
yours, asking for her to purchase the drugs that she used to fake your addiction.”
“Where did you get this?”
“The maid was fired for getting pregnant out of wedlock. She came to me in hopes of
filing a lawsuit against them, but there wasn’t enough proof, but she told me about
that and I made a note. Nevertheless, she is willing to stand witness and state
that your mother asked her to retrieve the drugs that you were consuming without
your knowledge.”
This time, when Clarke glanced at Lexa, she saw hope in her eyes, and couldn’t help
but smile.
“Gustus…you…you’re a godsend.”
“Anything for you, miss Woods.”
The rest of the meeting went by quickly, as Gustus detailed the specs of both the
annulment hearing as well as the filing of the lawsuit. When they left the
courthouse, Clarke could almost see a skip in Lexa’s step, for she was overjoyed.
“We really have a chance, Clarke,” Lexa smiled, “I just can’t believe it.”
“A chance at what?”
The sneering voice wiped the smile from Lexa’s face, and she turned quickly to find
her parents standing before her, glaring daggers at both her and her wife. But Lexa
was not scared, not anymore. Not when Clarke stood beside her; not when she had
faith that she could truly escape their grasp. She stood up straight and glared
right back at her mother, her entire posture going from relaxed to threatening in
the span of a second. The fury in her eyes was no longer concealed, and both her
parents took a step back as though in fear.
“Hello, mother. Father.”
“Alexandria,” her father began, “You can still undo this. Just let us fix this.”
“Fix what? The only thing I’ve gotten right in my life?”
“It’s wrong, Alexandria.”
“No, what’s wrong is that you two think you own me. You don’t.”
“You need us to live. What of your trust fund?”
“Shove it up your asses for all I care. The properties in my possession are just
that; in my possession. We went over the paperwork with Gustus, and there is no
loophole that can allow you to take them back. Not to mention I don’t care. I don’t
need you to live. I don't need your dirty money to live.”
“Watch your tone, Alexandria. We’re just trying to help.”
“The only one here who needs help is you.”
“It’s a sin, Alexandria. An abomination. You're going to hell.”
“For what, being in love? Being happy? Because that’s what I am, and I have no
intention of letting that slip away.”
Without waiting for a reply, Lexa grabbed Clarke’s hand and rushed off down the
stairs and out of the courthouse. She was fuming when they got to the car, and
Clarke opted to allow her the space she needed during the ride to their hotel. She
was so incredibly proud of Lexa for being so strong, for allowing her anger to come
out, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to know that Lexa had such an awful reason
to be furious.
Which, by the way, Clarke was as well. She was seething with anger, and prayed that
she wouldn’t lose her cool and kick Lexa’s parent’s asses in the way she wanted to.
She knew any confrontation, even a verbal one, was perilous – after all, they were
both lawyers and their favorite phrase was most likely ‘I will sue you’.
By the time they reached the hotel, Lexa’s anger had subsided. All she wanted was
to have Clarke in her arms and ignore the world, to shut it out and forget the next
day existed. And that was what Clarke gave her, because she understood.
Clarke needed the world to go away as well, because she was scared.
She didn’t want to lose Lexa.
She couldn't lose her wife.
> HOW CUTE WAS RANYA

> also Lexa is getting more Heda-ish with every chapter and its getting fun
> also might i remind you again that you can find me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear (or
@arctic-lesbian but that's like not just fandom shit but like gay shit)
> dont forget to leave a comment if u liked this shit
18. Chapter 18
> please don't get too pent up the possible inaccuracies in the legal shit, i am a
tiny high schooler who has never been to court and even with extensive research
shit's complicated af
> i blasted bon jovi's livin on a prayer all thru writing this because somehow it
fits
> also i am totally here for a gustus fan club
Going to court was just about the most terrifying thing Clarke had ever done in her
life. They had arrived at the courthouse with plenty of time to spare, but neither
of the two had been in any condition to speak; Lexa looked positively ill, and
Clarke was sure she did too. The nerves churning in her stomach felt like someone
had stuck their hand into her bowel and were just tossing it around, and she wanted
to vomit. But she didn't, no - she stood beside Lexa, waiting for Gustus, watching
the hand on the clock come closer and closer to quarter past. When she saw
Lexa's parents walking down the hallway with the public lawyer, she heard Lexa let
out a tiny whimper of disappointment. Clarke gave her a gentle kiss to her cheek
before she begrudgingly made her way to stand with the only two people in the world
that she wanted to kill.
Raven and Anya were waiting at the hotel, and so Clarke’s only company was Gustus.
He was not particularly talkative, and so they spent the remaining five minutes
before the hearing standing in silence, watching Lexa squirm as her parents spoke
to her quietly.
Lexa had to force herself to listen to all that her parents were saying.
“You were drunk, you’re ill, it will be overruled and we will all go home.”
But she said nothing, not now when she was so nervous and scared she could barely
stand. She was not afraid of her parents, not one single bit – were they anywhere
else, she would have gladly delivered a good hard punch to their faces. But they
were in a courthouse, their territory and domain, and she felt out of place.
She was scared for her and Clarke's sake, and the cause of her fear was not her
parents but what they had set in motion. If they succeeded, she would have no
reason to live anymore - what life was it anyway, being the playtoy of one's
parents with no personal freedom whatsoever?
They entered the courtroom and took their seats, Clarke on one side and Lexa on
another. Just that setup pained Lexa more than anything; she didn’t want to be
sitting beside her mother, opposite to Clarke, on the other side than Clarke – she
hated the fact that she was technically fighting Clarke with this. She was
powerless now, and all she could do was bite her tongue and pray Gustus’s plan
worked.
“All stand for Judge Wallace.”
There was shuffling when the few people in the courtroom stood up, and Lexa watched
the judge walk in and take his seat. He was tall and lanky, with pale white skin
and snowy white hair, and a simultaneously sly and kind look in his eye.
Lexa knew then that this was not going to be easy.
“So, Miss Alexandria Woods, you have petitioned for an annulment of your marriage
to Miss Clarke Griffin, which occurred on the 17th of February of this year in Las
Vegas, Nevada. Because you are at the moment legally incapacitated, the legal
proceedings will be managed by your parents, and I will thus address them directly.
The court will now hear the Petitioner’s opening statement.”
The public attorney stood up and looked at Lexa expectantly. Begrudgingly as she
could, she stood up as well, taking time to smooth out her uncomfortably tight
pencil skirt before raising her eyes to face the judge. His eyes were fixed on her,
and she knew he was studying her and trying to figure out just why she was
incapacitated.
_I’m not crazy, I’m just gay._
But that wasn’t exactly what she could say. In truth, she couldn't say a thing. So
instead, she stood up straight and pushed her anger and fear to the bottom, and
forced herself to listen to the woman to her right.
“Your Honor, the Petitioner is asking for her marriage to be annulled because of
two reasons; at the time, she was severely incapacitated, not only due to high
levels of intoxication but also due to her mental status. The Respondent also
failed to inform my client of her severe monetary troubles, which of course lead us
to believe that the Respondent took advantage of my client’s incapacity to fend for
herself to benefit from her significant wealth and status; we claim that this was
an attempt at fraud, which would of course give claim to the annulment. My client
is in a very fragile state, and the fact that the Respondent took such advantage of
her state should be downright illegal – however, my clients agree that we will
settle for an annulment and press no further charges.”
Lexa felt as though the air in the room had suddenly become acid; each breath
burned, and her skin prickled and stung as she fought hard to not punch the woman
beside her. She was supposedly representing her, and making it seem as though Lexa
believed all what she was saying - all the lies from her mouth made Lexa's anger
fume, but she couldn't do anything about it. She wanted nothing more than for this
to be over, for the devils beside her to leave her alone – she wanted nothing more
than for Alexandria Woods to be gone.
She was Lexa Griffin. Not Alexandria Woods.
"Was Miss Woods legally incompetent at the time of the marriage?"
The attorney squirmed for just a second before speaking. "No, your Honor. She was
declared incompetent in July of this year."
The judge peered at her for long before nodding and allowing them to sit down. He
then turned his eyes to the left side of the room and fixed them on Clarke. “Does
the Respondent have a statement?”
Gustus stood now, as did Clarke, and Lexa could not tear her eyes away from her
wife. Clarke stood strong, but Lexa knew she was terrified. Her fists were balled
at her sides, and Lexa was sure her nails were digging into the soft skin of her
palms. She wished she could walk over there and take her hand, kiss her and tell
her everything was fine. But she couldn’t move, and she didn’t even know if
everything was going to be fine.
“Your Honor, the Respondent would like to state that neither she nor her wife are
asking for an annulment. The petition was filed on my client’s behalf by her
parents, and while it can be recognized that currently she is incapable of making
such decisions herself, our claim stands that the grounds for this annulment are
not valid. As-“
“Objection, your Honor! This is not relevant to the topic on hand.”
Gustus looked at the attorney to Lexa’s left with amusement twinkling in his eyes
before looking at Judge Wallace.
“Is this relevant, Mr. Pane?” Judge Wallace asked, peering at him carefully.
“Yes, Your Honor. Might I continue?”
“Yes, please do. No more objections from the Petitioner,” the judge said, waving
his hand absent-mindedly. Lexa wasn’t too sure whether that was a good thing, but
was glad to see her parents looked very annoyed.
Clearly the hearing wasn’t going as they’d planned.
“As I was saying, we aim to prove that the grounds for granting the Mr. and Mrs.
Woods conservatorship of their daughter were invalid. While this hearing is only
regarding the annulment, my client, as well as her wife, both agree that neither of
them wish for an annulment. We call for a psychological evaluation to be done not
only on Miss Woods and Miss Griffin alone and together, but also on Mr. and Mrs.
Woods, so to provide basis for our claim that Mr. and Mrs. Woods’s motives for
wanting this marriage annulled are based on homophobic and discriminative beliefs
which violate various state and federal laws.”
There was a long pause, during which not a thing moved in the room. It was as
though time itself was taking a breath, and Lexa dared not look anywhere but at
Clarke. The blonde was tense, but she was determined as ever, and that showed. With
a glance towards the judge, Lexa realized that he was staring at Clarke as well
with a studious, curious look on his face.
“Thank you, you may sit down.”
Lexa saw the tension in Clarke’s shoulders relieve just slightly when she sat back
down in her seat. She was so concentrated at staring at Clarke that she didn’t
realize that the judge had begun speaking again until she heard her own name
mentioned.
“…and Miss Woods, as well as her parents, will be subject to a psychological

evaluation. The court will convene for a second hearing once these are complete.
The court is dismissed.”
The mallet hit the table, and as the sound echoed Lexa stood with shaky legs and
watched the judge walk away. He hadn’t seemed so bad.
The tiny flame of hope in Lexa’s chest grew, and she smiled softly to herself. But
then she felt a cold hand touch her elbow, and she whirled around so quickly she
startled her mother and caused her to stumble backwards.
“Don’t touch me!” Lexa hissed, her eyes flashing with anger in a way that made her
parents quiver. “You may think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. And I
hate you more than ever.”
“Alexandria, you will listen to us.”
“No, I will not. I don’t want you in my life, not now, not ever, and what I don’t
understand is why you seem so pent up on keeping me as your playtoy when you
clearly never cared for me.”
She stared at both their faces, and saw confusion and actual genuine fear within
their eyes. This satisfied Lexa to no end, and she turned to leave.
“We will win, you know that.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Lexa growled, “Not when I have an advantage. Gustus has an
advantage.”
“What advantage?”
Lexa turned on her heel then and walked away. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
* * *
The instant they arrived at the hotel room, Clarke was tackled into a bone-crushing
hug by Raven.
“Tell me all my hard work isn’t destroyed.”
Clarke smiled and patted Raven’s back. “No, not yet.”
Raven pulled away then and promptly enveloped Lexa into a hug as well, thoroughly
startling Lexa.
“You, too. You looked like you needed a hug.”
Anya walked out of the bathroom and saw Raven practically strangling Lexa while the
brunette stood there, unsure of what to do, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Raven, I
think you’re scaring Lexa.”
Raven pulled away, and Lexa grumbled: “I’m not scared.”
“Well you did look like you were dying.”
“People don’t usually hug me.”
“Well, Lexa, get used to it,” Raven smiled, “Unless you really don’t want me
invading your personal space cause I’m totally cool with that-“
Lexa laughed then. “It’s fine, Raven. You’re weird, but I think I’m starting to
like that. You're weird.”
“More like a complete idiot,” Anya grumbled, but none other than Raven heard what
she’d said. The brunette turned around and gave her a grin, and then faced Clarke
again, a look of true concern in her eyes.
“How’d it go?”
“It…I don’t know, really, Lexa knows better.”
“Well?”
“The judge seems neutral, which is good. We’ll have psych evaluations tomorrow, and
then a hearing the day after that. Gustus managed to get him to agree to make my
parents undergo an evaluation as well, although I’m not entirely sure what that
will accomplish. They’re nothing if not expert liars.”
“Maybe they’ll see something. And even so, you can prove that you’re not batshit
crazy.”
Lexa sighed and slumped down onto the bed. “I’m just so tired.”
Clarke laid down next to her, and let out an equally exasperated sigh. “Me too.”
“You guys want food?”
“No.”
“What food do you want?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Raven rolled her eyes and glanced at Anya. “Ok, so it’s clearly tacos for Clarke,
how about you, Lexa?”
Lexa lifted her head from the bed and frowned at Raven. “I said I’m not hungry.”
“And Anya will murder you if you die. So tell me what you want to eat.”
Anya nodded and crossed her arms, giving Lexa a determined look, and she groaned as
she let her head fall back down onto the bed. “I don’t know, Chinese? Noodles. With
chicken.”
“Ok, we got you. Try not to groan yourselves out of existence while we’re gone,
ok?”
The door shut after Raven and Anya, and Clarke immediately turned over and climbed
onto Lexa’s chest. Lexa only smiled and wrapped her arms around her, and when
Clarke’s lips met hers, she sighed.
“It’ll be fine,” Clarke murmured. She had been repeating those words for days now,
and Lexa was slowly beginning to believe them. “It has to be fine.”
Lexa pushed Clarke’s face a little further from her own so that she could properly
look at her. “But what if it isn’t? I know you don’t want to think about it, but we
have to prepare for either outcome.”
Clarke sighed and leaned her forehead against Lexa’s, much like she had done that
fateful time in Vegas. “Well, if the marriage gets annulled, I’ll have no other
choice than to kidnap you.”
“Kidnap?”
“Yes, kidnap. You can come willingly or I can enlist Raven’s help. Pretty sure Anya
would help too, she’s practically in love with Raven and I think she wouldn’t stand
for the idea of Raven doing anything illegal without her there to make sure she
won’t get caught.”
“Yeah, they’re one shot away from making out,” Lexa smiled, “But I think they’re
just waiting it out.”
“Anyway, kidnapping sounds good?”
“Where would we go?”
“I don’t know. Away?”
“Life on the run?”
“Would they really chase you?”
Lexa sighed. “I…I don’t know. Maybe. At least they’d file a police report.”
“But we could still do it.”
Clarke watched as the brunette beneath her chewed her lip, clearly deep in thought.
“We could go to Canada and try to apply for refugee status on the basis of
discrimination.”
“Would that work?”
“It might?”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’d be caught, you’d go to prison and I’d be sent back to my parents.”
“And you’d miss me if I went to prison, right?”
Lexa smiled when she recalled the last time they’d talked about that. It felt like
such a long time ago, even though it had only been a few weeks. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Aww, you remember.”
“Impossible to forget,” Lexa murmured as she ran a hand up Clarke’s back to her
neck, “And I never want to.” She went in for a kiss, but Clarke pulled away, a grin
on her lips.
“Do you remember what the first thing you said to me was?”
Lexa blinked. “I asked who you were, didn’t I?”
When Clarke rolled her eyes and kissed her, Lexa knew she’d answered wrong. “Wait,
what did I say? Did I forget?”
Clarke laughed gently. “You really don’t remember, do you?”
“No?”
“You asked me if I was an angel.”

Lexa stared at Clarke for a while, thinking she was joking, but the smile on her
face was as honest as Lexa had ever seen it. “Really?”
“And you wouldn’t believe me when I told you I wasn’t, because I was apparently
pretty. And then before you went to sleep you said you liked me.”
Lexa kissed Clarke then, passionately and roughly, and Clarke whimpered at the
sudden change of pace. “Clearly I was right,” Lexa murmured in between kisses,
“Since we’re, you know, still married. Staying married.”
“You have hope?”
Lexa’s lips claimed Clarke’s for a long while, and Clarke almost forgot she’d asked
a question when her wife murmured a ‘yes’ into her mouth. When she did realize that
she’d gotten a positive answer, she was too far in to care – she needed this,
needed to be close to Lexa, and she knew that Lexa needed it exactly the same.
* * *
“So how long do you think we should wait before we go in?”
Anya shrugged and leaned against the wall. “They’re still going at it, I can hear
them.”
“They’re gross.”
“This might be their last few days together. Give them all the...intimacy they
want.”
“Oh, please, we’ll kick her parents’ asses if we need to and then those two can
bang all they want.” Raven grinned, rolling her eyes. “Have some faith, that Gustus
dude seems like he’s got this under control.” She leaned against the wall and slid
down to sit, wincing when the cuts and scrapes on her skin stung from the movement.
Anya sat down beside her too, and for a while, neither of them spoke.
“I can’t believe we agreed to share a room with them.”
“It was cheaper.”
“But look at us now. We’re sitting in the hallway while they’re having god knows
how many rounds of raucous lesbian sex.”
“We’ve got food, though,” Anya reminded her. When Raven remembered that, her eyes
lit up, and not a moment later she was scarfing down an egg roll so fast Anya was
sure she’d choke.
“How about you try and not die?”
Raven looked at her quizzically. “I’m sorry, are you judging my eating habits?”
“Yes, they're horrific.”
“Rude.”
“Deal with it.”

Raven shot Anya a daring look before shoving the rest of the egg roll into her
mouth and deliberately eating as grossly as she could. Anya groaned and shoved her,
and Raven laughed, sending bits of food flying across the floor.
“You are disgusting.” Anya grumbled. “Such a slob.”
“Deal with it.”
And then suddenly both of them became painstakingly aware of the fact that they
were all too close to one another – Raven’s hand rested on Anya’s knee, and there
were only inches between their faces. Raven looked at Anya’s lips, then at her
eyes, and saw her staring at her, waiting for her, breathing quietly as though she
were afraid of what would happen. Raven knitted her brows just slightly, and for a
breath she considered the odds as she swallowed the remnants of her egg roll – but
then she snaked a hand up to Anya’s neck and kissed her, and Anya instantly pressed
back against her with more determination than Raven had known to expect. A hand
found it’s way to her thigh, and it pressed just tightly enough to remind Raven of
where all of this could lead. Her lips on Anya’s were heaven, like she had known
they would be; Anya was beautiful and kind, and just enough of a bitch to challenge
the asshole that Raven was.
Anya was anything but a bad choice.
They were so focused on each other that they failed to notice the door opening, or
Lexa’s tiny gasp, or Clarke’s slight of hand when she pulled out her phone and took
a picture – well, several pictures. It wasn’t until she cleared her throat that the
two of them jumped apart, and Raven looked at Clarke to find the absolute most
insufferable grin plastered to her face.
“Took you long enough.” Clarke smirked.
“You’re one to talk.”
“Oh shut up, Raven, I think it’s cute.”
“Clarke, I will murder you.”
The blonde smiled, grabbed the bags of food and went back inside, leaving Anya and
Raven alone in the hallway. Raven was blushing now, and she slowly turned back to
face Anya to find her looking at her with amusement in her eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Anya chuckled, “You’re just so flustered.”
“Shut up.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“An idiot that you just kissed.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “And an asshole, apparently.”
“Well you’re no ray of sunshine either, Ice Queen.”

“I’m not the Ice Queen, that’d be my mother.”
“Really? Then I suppose you’re the Ice Princess, then. Your majesty,” Raven
smirked, and Anya rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, Raven, you’re the dumbest fucking idiot I’ve ever met.”
“Wow, you really know how to get to a girls’ heart.”
“Shut up,” Anya murmured. Her hands grabbed Raven’s face, neither gentle nor
overpoweringly rough, and her lips claimed hers, effectively silencing her
complaints. Raven was not accustomed to this combination of determination and
confidence that Anya was exhibiting; every movement the woman did seemed calculated
and perfectly timed, and Raven felt like all she had to do was enjoy the ride.
But Raven Reyes would never settle for that.
No, she pulled away from Anya, and when she saw the confusion in her eyes, she
smirked before claiming Anya’s lips, just as determined as Anya had been – it was
as though they were trying to outdo one another, despite the fact that ultimately,
they both just felt as though they couldn’t stop.
“Ok, guys, seriously, come inside and stop necking like that. It’s gross."
They pulled apart to find Lexa peering at them with amusement twinkling in the
green of her eyes. Anya gently shoved Raven away, and the brunette stuck her tongue
out at her as Anya followed Lexa into the hotel room and left her onto the floor.
“Rude to leave me like that!” Raven cried before darting to her feet and hurrying
after her. “Also, what the fuck?”
“What?”
“We kiss, and you say nothing. You just kiss me again.”
“You kissed me first.”
“And you kissed me back.”
“So?”
Clarke couldn’t help but laugh at the bickering pair, and Lexa soon joined in.
Raven and Anya both shot them angry glares, but that only made the married couple
laugh harder. Raven then grabbed a pillow and hit Clarke with it, and was soon
joined by Anya who also began hitting both Lexa and Clarke with a pillow. Clarke
and Lexa both cried out at the sudden attack and tried to get past them to grab
pillows of their own, but were unable to do so; instead, they tried their best to
protect their faces from the relentless attack, but Raven and Anya were having a
lot of fun and had no problems making them scream and laugh for them to stop.
It was a nice moment of complete joy and happiness, and for that evening, none of
the four bothered to worry of what was to come. They were happy in the here and
now, and everything was fine.
Everything had to be fine.

> ah man im enjoying writing this
> also indra is making an appearance next chapter, get hyped for that
> i know this is probs getting annoying but come say hi to me @clexy-polarbear i am
a vain person and the more inflated my ego is the greater the writing that leaves
my brain is
19. Chapter 19
> multitasking between fics is confusing to say the least but i'm having fun and
you guys will have a stellar(ha get the pun) space AU coming at your faces in no
time at all
When they awoke that next morning, the dread settled into their hearts yet again.
Clarke and Lexa left the hotel room quietly, allowing Anya and Raven the sleep they
needed – they had stayed up until the early hours of the morning talking, all four
of them, and the other two had nowhere to be.
Clarke had never been to a psychologist before. Lexa, on the other hand, had seen
enough to last her two lifetimes. Nevertheless, neither of the two were any less
terrified when they drove over to the courthouse and were led to a specific room,
in front of which they were told to wait. Clarke fiddled with the hem of her
blazer, which had a few loose strings coming off of it, while Lexa tapped her
fingers against her arm and counted the seconds in her head.
At precisely eleven o’clock, the door opened, and a young man emerged. He looked
about Clarke’s and Lexa’s age, with sleek black hair and dark, kindly eyes. He was
wearing slacks and a light green sweater, which would have made him look like a
mama’s boy were it not for the fact that he completely owned whatever he was
wearing.
He looked like a puppy, Clarke thought, kind of in the same way as the doctor from
Polis. Wells or something, that was his name.
But then he looked at her and smiled tightly, and she felt her gut churning again
as she recalled why she was there.
“Right this way, Miss Griffin.”
She briefly wondered how he knew which of the two was which, but pushed that
thought away and out of her mind. She needed to focus.
“I’m dr. Monty Green. Please, have a seat.”
Clarke sat down slowly, eyeing the man before her carefully. He couldn’t have been
any more than a few years older than her – if anything, he looked younger.
“Right, Miss Griffin – or would you prefer Clarke?”
Clarke shrugged. “Clarke’s fine.”
“You can call me Monty, in the spirit of setting you at ease. Now, the purpose of
this meeting is so that I can properly evaluate your own mental status as well as
your relationship to the petitioner, Miss Woods. You understand this, I am sure?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Right, then let’s get right to it. Why did you marry Miss Woods?”
Clarke gaped at the psychologist. “That’s very straight-forward. I was expecting

obscure ink blot tests and questions about my childhood traumas.”
“We can discuss those if you’d like, but I would like to first get to know you a
little better. So, please answer my question.”
Clarke sighed. “Honestly?”
Monty smiled, and Clarke suddenly felt slightly less tense. “Preferably, yes.”
“I married her because I was certain I was falling in love with her.”
“That’s all?”
“Are you implying there should be more?”
“You breathed in at the end of your sentence. Seemed like you had something to
add.”
Clarke peered at the man before her carefully. Though he may have had the looks of
a puppy, she saw now that he was certainly intelligent – brilliant, even. “I…she
was talking about her parents and how she was afraid they’d forcibly strip her of
her rights, so I offered to marry her to ensure she had an out if that occurred.”
The psychologist, however smart he may be, had not expected this, and Clarke felt
slightly satisfied when she saw the surprise in his eyes.
“And you’re referring to the conservatorship that was granted to them in July?”
“Yes, I am.”
"So you're saying she had the foresight to expect this?"
"Yes, I do."
“And in your judgement, Miss Woods is completely mentally healthy?”
Clarke hesitated for just the slightest moment. She somehow knew she couldn’t lie
to this man, and so decided to take the leap. “No.”
“No?”
“She has baggage, but we all do. So no, she’s not completely mentally healthy. But
she’s not a danger to herself like her parents claim, and she’s definitely not
crazy. She's not mentally ill.”
Dr. Green nodded, and Clarke found herself able to stop fumbling with her hands for
the first time since arriving at the courthouse. “I see.” He jotted down a few
notes onto a notepad before looking up and smiling. “Now, tell me about why you
want to stay married to her.”
“This doesn’t seem like a very professional evaluation.”
“Answer the question, please.”
Clarke sighed. “I want to stay married to her because I love her.”

“Love her? Even though you only met a few weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
“Are you certain?”
“I love her, and even if I didn’t yet, I am willing and wanting to make that
commitment with her. She fits with me, and we get one another. The fact that her
parents disapprove is the only reason we’re here in the first place.”
There were more notes scribbled, and Clarke felt herself getting nervous again.
“How would you describe Miss Woods’s relationship with her parents?”
Clarke let out a deep sigh and shook her head. “I…I don’t even know where to
begin.”
“Positive? Reinforcing? Close?”
“Abusive. Hurtful.”
“How so?”
“Look, I’m not so sure whether this is relevant but they forcibly made her look as
though she was mentally ill and suicidal to gain conservatorship over her, so that
they could control her. That’s pretty-”
“And why would they want to control her?”
“Because they disapprove of who she is.”
“And that is?”
Clarke felt that her short answers were beginning to annoy the doctor, and so she
just sighed and leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to face him. “She’s gay.
They’re homophobic and rich and conservative and religious. I’m sure you can fill
in the blanks.”
“So you’re saying they’re abusive?”
“God, yes.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“What part of ‘stripped of her rights’ was unclear?”
“I will not make any statements of Miss Woods’s mental status until I have seen it
for myself. There's no need to get snippy with me.”
Clarke nodded slowly. “Well, for one they call her names. Tell her she’s an
abomination, yell at her, force her to suppress who she is and all emotions she
would be exhibiting whatsoever. They pay people to report on her, and if they find
out she’s ‘lapsed’ they do all they can to punish her and whoever it was she lapsed
with.”
“And these punishments are what, physical?”
Clarke faltered. She hadn’t wanted to press Lexa to tell her, and thus far they had
only talked about her parents a few score times. She wasn’t sure how far the abuse
had gone.
“I can tell you they’re verbal and very psychological. And they sent her to a
boarding school in Boston for the sole purpose of converting her. There they at
least abused her both physically and verbally, but she doesn’t talk about it much.
I mean I’m sure she would, but I don’t like to pry. She’s been hurt enough as it
is.”
The doctor stared at Clarke for awhile before nodding and scribbling another set of
notes. She could see a small smile playing on his lips, and felt concern enter her
mind; but then he looked up and she saw not judgement but acceptance.
It felt as though he understood.
“How do you feel your marriage is going? I see here that you did not live together
for the first nine months of your marriage. Why was that?”
Clarke now felt her face grow hot, and she began fumbling with her hands again.
“We…we didn’t exactly remember that we got married.”
“You were that intoxicated?”
Clarke was about to agree, but recalled Gustus’s words: _“They can’t prove how
drunk you were, so don’t say anything about it.”_
So she just pursed her lips and said nothing. The doctor smiled and nodded. “I see
your lawyer has had a good talk with you. Nevertheless, you found out that you were
married when?”
Clarke thought back and counted the days. “About a month ago.”
“And how has marriage been?”
“Hard at first, figuring out ourselves and what we wanted. We initially planned for
a divorce but soon realized that was a stupid idea. I liked her the second I met
her, and it just…it works. We click.” Clarke wasn’t so sure why she was baring her
heart to this stranger, why she felt so comfortable doing so; perhaps it was the
fact that he truly seemed to not be judging her, and appeared committed to making
her feel as comfortable as possible.
“Any arguments?”
Clarke shrugged. “A few. About normal things, like where to eat and how long I
spend in the shower. Nothing big.”
“And how does the communication work, in your opinion? Are you able to express how
you feel? Do you let her?”
“Of course. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken with anyone else with such ease. We
share…well, I can’t say we’ve shared everything, but I believe that if I asked, she
wouldn’t conceal anything from me. And if she wants to talk, I’m there for her.
Whatever she needs.”
The doctor smiled then, and Clarke felt comforted. “Well, it looks like we’re done
here. If you’d just ask Miss Woods to enter.”
Clarke smiled and stood as quickly as she could, briefly shaking the doctor’s hand
before leaving the room. She let out an exasperated sigh when she saw Lexa, and the
brunette stood hurriedly upon seeing her.
“How’d it go?”
Clarke kissed her gently. “It was fine. Your turn.”
“Wait for me?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Where would I go?”
Lexa kissed her again before turning and walking into the room. Clarke sighed when
she saw the door close, and after a breath she walked over to take a seat on the
bench that had been occupied by her wife only moments before. As she waited, she
could feel her lips tingling at the memory of Lexa’s soft lips against her own.
Despite the fact that they had exchanged countless kisses in the past weeks, Clarke
was yet to grow completely used to it.
She wasn’t so sure she would ever grow used to the fact that she was kissing her
wife. It was all too overwhelming; Lexa’s lips were always so soft, and they locked
together in the most natural ways as though their mouths were two puzzle pieces
shaped to fit. Lexa’s mouth tasted familiar now, and no matter whether her breath
smelled delightful or god-awful Clarke could never resist dipping her head down and
catching those lips with her own. The slight inhale that Lexa sometimes did upon
the contact, that gentle gasp that made it seem like she was surprised – it was
almost intoxicating to Clarke, and she could never truly get enough.
Clarke was so deep in thought that she first failed to realize her in-laws were
walking towards her, but when she heard the click-clack of sharp stilettos on the
stone floors, she looked up and froze. They were certainly coming towards her – no,
they were coming to her, and when they stopped a few feet from the bench Clarke
stood up, swallowing hard to force her rushing fear down to the back of her mind.
If Lexa could withstand them and be strong, so could she.
She wasn’t afraid of them.
“You filed a suit against us?”
Clarke stared at the two of them, and saw the anger and shock within their entire
postures. Lexa’s father stood beside his wife, arms crossed across his chest and
his chin held high; his wife, on the other hand, was towering before Clarke, her
sharp green eyes nothing like those of her daughter. Her eyes were cold,
calculating, void of any warm or kind emotion whatsoever.
Clarke seriously doubted this woman had ever been kind in her life. She wasn't even
sure the woman before her _knew_ what kindness was.
“Yes, Lexa did,” Clarke said, proud to hear her voice stood strong and steady.
“Is she stupid?”
The anger that dripped from her mother-in-law’s voice was like poison, but Clarke
paid it no mind. “No, she isn’t. And you would be stupid to underestimate her or
Gustus’s capabilities.”
“Gustus resigned. He is free-lancing.” Lexa’s father – Clarke’s father-in-law –

practically spat the words from his mouth, as though the thought of free-lancing
was equivalent to being the worst scum on the earth.
“I see you failed to read the fine print.”

Now Clarke had truly poked the bear, and the two people before her were practically
livid. But she only smiled, crossed her arms against her chest and leaned on one
hip, purposefully making herself appear more relaxed than what she actually was.
“He works for Porter&Ryder now. I’m sure you’ve heard of them. They just won a
lawsuit against Lexa’s old boarding school in Boston.”
No matter how well these two people before her might have been at concealing their
true feelings, the shock and slight fear that struck them in that moment was not
lost on Clarke. She chuckled, grinning devilishly, and felt all-too-satisfied that
she’d managed to strike them.
“What the hell?”
Lexa stood beside them now, staring at her parents and Clarke with a complete look
of shock on her face. Dr. Green stood in the doorway of his office, a studious look
on his face, and for a while, nobody spoke.
It was Lexa who finally broke the silence by storming to stand in front of Clarke.
She shot a fiery glare at her parents and growled:
“How _dare_ you go anywhere near my wife?”
Her hand searched for Clarke’s, and the blonde gladly took it; she saw fury in the
entirety of Lexa’s posture, and knew the brunette needed something to ground her
and to keep her level.
She couldn’t afford to lose her cool now.
Lexa's father sneered at her, and Clarke saw annoyance flash in the eerily familiar
green of his eyes.
“You sued us, Alexandria. How could you?”
Lexa straightened up and lifted her chin up high. Despite being significantly
shorter than her father, Lexa still appeared to tower over him by the sheer
influence of the confidence and power that her presence demanded in that moment.
“I could be asking you that same question.” Her voice was cool and collected, and
yet Clarke detected the slightest waver in her tone. “How _could_ you do all of
that to me and think it was right? How _could_ you think I’d let you get away with
it?”
Once again, Lexa did not bother waiting for an answer. She wished for no
reconciliation with her parents; she wanted to ignore their entire existence, for
them to disappear from her life and to leave her alone. It was of no use for her to
hear their skewed and disgusting justifications.
They were not justifications.
They were excuses.
And Lexa was done listening to them.
Clarke allowed herself be dragged out of the courthouse and down the stairs and to
the car, and once again, she remained silent and drove back to the hotel as fast as
she could. Lexa was angry now, angrier than she’d been the day before; Clarke had
actually been afraid that she’d strike them today, whereas the day before she had
been fully confident that Lexa could contain herself.
But today had been different. Today, her parents hadn’t attacked Lexa, but Clarke.
And Lexa would not allow that.
_How dare you go near my wife?_
They arrived at the hotel room in record time, and for a while, they just laid on
the bed, side by side, barely touching. Lexa’s hand rested atop Clarke’s, and after
about ten minutes had passed, it slid to lace her fingers with Clarke’s.
“You know, I’ve been thinking-“ Clarke began as Lexa’s thumb started drawing
circles on her hand.
“Yes?”
“What will we do when this is over?”
Lexa remained silent, and so Clarke continued. She wasn’t so sure why she was
talking, or what of – she just wanted to relieve the tension, to make Lexa and
herself think about something other than the suit and the annulment and the psych
evals and all the shit that was being thrown at us.
“I’m thinking we drive back to New York, and we move into that apartment of yours.
Christmas is coming, too. Mom’s probably going to insist we go down to Maryland,
and Uncle Kane will be there too and-“
“Clarke, stop.”
Lexa spoke so quickly that it was almost as though she’d snapped at her; Clarke
shut up, and failed to notice the pained look that spread onto Lexa’s face the
instant she realized what she’d done. Lexa flipped over quickly, and was swiftly
climbed on top of Clarke, and Clarke now saw that her green eyes were filled with
concern.
“I’m sorry, Clarke, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Her voice was soft and careful,
and so apologetic it made Clarke's heart ache.
Clarke smiled and kissed her softly. “I know you didn’t. You’re just stressed.”
“But still.”
“Lexa, it’s fine. It can’t be smooth all the way, can it?”
The brunette cringed at that, and Clarke kissed her again. “I don’t like the idea
of things getting rough.”
“You don’t think things are rough right now?”
Lexa smiled then, and Clarke felt a warmth spread through her chest when she
realized she’d managed to comfort her at least to some extent. She ran a hand up
along Lexa’s back, and Lexa let out a sigh as she felt herself relax at the
contact. Clarke’s touch was more than enough to make the world melt away, and the
way she seemed to be holding her as though she were protecting her was perfect.
"You want to talk about the evaluation?"
Lexa sighed. "Not today. I'll tell you some day, I promise. Just not today."
"Okay."
One of Clarke’s hands was resting on Lexa's neck, and the tips of her fingers drew
abstract patterns on the sensitive skin of the nape of her neck; Lexa shuddered
every now and then, but it was only because it felt so good. Clarke’s other hand
had come to rest on her smaller back, firm and reassuring, and Lexa felt herself
slipping into sleep.
“I’m sorry my parents are such assholes,” she mumbled, practically asleep already,
“And I’m sorry they talked to you.”
Clarke sighed. “It’s not your fault. And besides, you’re the one taking the worst
hits in all of this. I’m just collateral damage.”
“I hate that you’re involved in this.”
“Lexa, no.” Clarke’s voice was determined, and Lexa raised her head slightly to
look at her. “I’m involved in this and you don’t hate it, because we’re going to
get through this shit and you’re damn well not doing it alone.”
Lexa smiled then, and Clarke returned it; there was no need for words, but Lexa let
them slip anyway.
“Thank you.”
“I already said this, and I’m saying it again. Don’t thank me, it’s weird.”
“Am I allowed to say anything?”
Clarke grinned. “No, because now you’re going to sleep.” Her hand pressed Lexa’s
head down into the crook of her neck as gently as it could, and Lexa let herself be
guided like so; she contemplated for a moment kissing against the soft skin not
inches from her lips, of nipping at it in the way that she knew would render Clarke
hers. But she was tired, and Clarke was too.
A nap was more than enough.
* * *
Not half an hour later they awoke to a knock on the door. Clarke awoke first, as
always, and pushed Lexa off of herself with a groan before padding over to the door
and yanking it open.
“Shoulda brought your ke-“
But it wasn’t Raven and Anya who stood outside, but Gustus and a woman Clarke had
never yet seen.
“Hello, Miss Griffin,” Gustus greeted her. “May we come in?”
“Uh, yes. Of course.”
The woman who was accompanying Gustus stopped before her and offered her a hand.
“I’m Indra Porter, of Porter&Ryder? Pleased to meet you.”
Clarke shook her hand and suddenly felt shy under her seemingly prying and proud
eyes. “Clarke Griffin.”
Indra Porter was a woman of power, that much became evident from the few seconds
Clarke had time to watch her. She had sharp features and a defined brow, and keen,
intelligent eyes which seemed to take in everything in her surroundings and notice
everything. She wore a sleek, perfectly fitted blazer and slacks, and overall she
looked more like a politician than a lawyer. But the cunning twinkle in her eye
suggested otherwise; Clarke was sure that this was not a woman to be crossed, nor
one you should want to come across in court.
She introduced herself to Lexa as well, who had only just woken up and was still
half-asleep. They then sat down wherever they could; Gustus and Indra took the
armchairs while Clarke and Lexa sat down side by side on the bed.
“So, Gustus, why exactly are you here?” Lexa finally asked. “Not to be rude or
anything, we didn’t expect we’d see you until tomorrow.”
“Miss Porter decided she should come here herself, and wished to meet you. Both of
you.”
A smile now stretched onto the woman’s lips, revealing a perfectly straight row of
strikingly white teeth. It was almost uncanny, seeing her smile, but not in the
sense that it was unappealing – if anything, it softened her features and made her
appear less terrifying. No, it was more that Clarke hadn’t thought that such a
ruthless-looking woman could look so kind.
“Yes, I heard about your case and I can say it touched my heart. You two…it’s
unprecedented, to say the least. And I’ve already worked with your former school.”
The last line was directed to Lexa, and Clarke felt her tense just slightly at the
mention of her school.
“This isn’t a simple case, nor one that should be taken lightly. Your parents are
legal elite, so to speak, and crossing them is something most lawyers would never
dare to do.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, Lexa and Clarke feared that she would politely
decline them any help in fear of having her career destroyed.
“Which is exactly why I will be representing you.”
Lexa looked at the woman in astonishment. She had heard of Indra Porter back at
Harvard; she had graduated at the top of her class, and had been ridiculed for
choosing to go work in the field of human and gay rights instead of chasing the
top-paying jobs in corporate law. But she had also been known for her ruthless,
cutthroat manner in court, and the way she always seemed to pry just what she
needed out of the witnesses and her opponents alike.
Indra Porter was certainly someone you wanted on your side.
“You will?”
The woman smiled gently and nodded. “It would break my heart to see a pair as…well-
suited as you two to go to waste. I may not know you, but from Gustus has told me,
you are quite perfect for one another.”
Clarke let out a breath of relief, and Lexa took her hand to give it a reassuring
squeeze. “It will be fine,” she murmured to the blonde, and Clarke smiled brightly.
“Yes, it certainly will,” Indra agreed, “And your parents will be brought to
justice. Tomorrow’s hearing will be a piece of cake; and, even if not, there can
still be an out given the amount of evidence we have against your parents. So don’t
worry. You're in good hands now.”
Lexa felt as though she would faint; she wanted to hug this woman, tell her just
how happy she’d made her, but she couldn’t even move because she was so stunned.
_It will be fine._
And for the first time in days, Lexa truly and wholeheartedly believed those words.
> Indra is my fave and Monty is a puppy

> keep on commenting and kudosing, my heart grows one size each time i get an ao3
notification :)
> you can come yell at me @clexy-polarbear if u want
20. Chapter 20
> i am on a cross-country drive and if this actually manages to upload it is a

miracle
> i'm glad you guys liked monty, and indra too...indra's going to have a bit of a
bigger part than originally intended :)
When Raven and Anya returned to the hotel room later that evening, they came to
find Lexa and Clarke curled up on the bed, fast asleep with the TV still on. Lexa
was holding Clarke as though she were afraid the blonde would slip away from her,
and the absolute look of content and happiness that seemed to reside in the
blonde’s features was more than enough to show that they were happy.There was an
unfinished box of pizza on the table, as well as a bag of Italian takeout, still
untouched on the table. Clearly, the pair had intended on eating and watching TV,
but fallen asleep instead.
“Should we wake them?” Anya whispered into Raven’s ear. Raven quivered when she
felt Anya’s breath against her neck, and for the slightest moment forgot she’d
asked a question.
“Uh, no. Let them sleep,” she murmured when she regained herself. “We can take the
car. Lets give ‘em a few more hours. They deserve the rest.”
Anya nodded and grabbed the nearest hoodie before walking out of the room. Raven
smirked when she noticed that it was her hoodie, not Anya’s, and was already
prepared to point that fact out. She followed her out and down to the car, where
they sat down. For a while, neither of them said anything; they only sat there,
staring at the dashboard, unsure of what to do.
“Where should we go?”
Anya shrugged. “I don’t know. You pick.”
“Like I’d know where to go in Carson City. Google something.”
“How about Tahoe?”

“What about Tahoe?”
Anya rolled her eyes and shoved her phone into Raven’s hand. “How about we go _see_
lake Tahoe?”
“Oh. Right.”
Raven put the radio on to mask her sudden embarrassment, but even so, Anya noticed.
Anya always noticed, because somehow, Raven was like an open book to her.
She rather enjoyed making the brunette flustered and embarrassed, given the fact
that Raven did so to all too often.
The tragedy(and benefit) of the two of them was the fact that they were nothing if
not petty and competitive. Raven, although currently rendered incapable of anything
intelligible and non-embarrassing to say, was already thinking up ways she could
get back at Anya. The woman was infuriating to say the least; after the kiss the
night before, she had not said a word. Not about the kiss, anyway. They had enjoyed
truly interesting conversations, and words had not been lost between them; but
neither Raven nor Anya had dared to touch the topic of their feelings for one
another, because neither of them really knew what to think of the other.
Raven knew Anya was beautiful and intelligent, and that the kiss had been
breathtaking; whether it had been same for Anya, she had no idea. But she was not
one to worry about such trivial things. What mattered to Raven was the fact that
Anya was fun, and that flirting and joking with and at Anya was even more
entertaining than she had originally thought it to be.
They stopped by to get takeout before finding their way to a secluded beach at the
shore of the crystal blue lake. It was late afternoon, and the sun was already
hanging low in the sky; the air had a nip within it, and the wind that blew was
sharp and biting. Anya found herself shivering in the chill, and so she went back
to the car to retrieve the hoodie she’d grabbed from the hotel room.
“That’s my hoodie, you know,” Raven pointed out. Anya looked at her curiously, and
saw a smile playing at her lips and amusement twinkling in her eyes.
She contemplated leaning in and kissing her then, knowing it would have sent
Raven’s head spinning and rendered her in yet another state of embarrassment which
Anya so enjoyed. But instead she just shrugged and sat down across from Raven,
fully aware of the fact that the hoodie she was wearing was hers.
After all, it smelled unmistakably and wonderfully like Raven, which was one of the
reasons she'd grabbed it in the first place.
“Yeah, so?”
Raven quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. “Nothing. Just wondered if you knew.”
“It was the first hoodie I grabbed. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all. Just looks funny on you.”
“No it doesn’t.”
No, it most certainly didn’t. It looked adorable. But Raven wasn’t going to admit
that.
“It does.”
Anya scrunched up her nose and frowned, and Raven stuck her tongue out at her. In
response, Anya threw a fry at her, but Raven caught it and ate it instead.
“Don’t you dare waste food.”
“Clearly, I didn’t, seeing as you ate it.”
“I rescued it from a cruel fate.”
“I’m certain that even if it had fallen to the ground you would have eaten it.”
“So what if I would have? It’s food, Anya.”
“Food that can give you food poisoning.”
“That only applies after the five seconds.”
The woman then rolled her eyes, and Raven grinned victoriously. “That’s not even a
real thing, Raven. Bacteria doesn’t know how to count.”
“I’m pretty sure they do.”
“I’m certain they don’t.”
“What are you, a bacterial arithmetics expert?”
“You’re infuriating.”
“As are you.”
“You’re way more infuriating than I am.”
“I’m only as infuriating as the person I am with.”
Raven’s insufferable grin was wiped away when Anya darted across the table and
yanked her face to hers, their lips crashing almost too roughly; but Raven had half
known to expect this, and so she knew to pull back just slightly to soften the
blow, and when Anya’s tongue pushed it’s way past her lips, she was more than
ready.
Even so, the sensation was overwhelming. Her stomach was doing continuous flips,
and she felt like she was free-falling; but Anya’s lips were on hers, and Anya’s
tongue was against hers, and she could taste her mouth and god if it did not taste
like lust and passion and so many things that Raven had only encountered in passing
before. Even with the rough and demanding manner of her actions, Anya was
incredibly soft, and the juxtaposition confused Raven to no end. She was also
confused by how Anya was so simply before her, despite the fact that she was
leaning across a table and that her arm surely should have grown tired a long time
ago. One hand of Anya’s rested on the table, supporting her weight, while the other
was firmly placed on the back of Raven’s neck, keeping her in place and guiding her
to meet her mouth over and over again.
Raven refused to be controlled like Anya was trying to, and so she stood up, only
briefly missing Anya’s lips before she pulled Anya up with her. She yanked Anya
close to her, and surprisingly enough, she let her; Raven’s hands were planted
around Anya’s waist, and for a moment, they just stood there, staring at one
another, still tasting each other on their own tongues.
“So you’re cool with this?” Raven asked, a sly, daring look in her eye. “Just
kissing, no talking?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk later.”
“I’m ok with that.”
Raven leaned in and captured Anya’s lips with hers, and was almost startled with
the ease with which Anya let her guide her; Raven had expected a fight for
dominance, for Anya’s competitiveness to come out as it had in so many of their
arguments. When one of her hands came up to her neck, Raven thought Anya would
regain the control and try to take her like she had before; but she didn’t, not at
all. Instead, she simply reacted to Raven’s actions, and her hand on her neck
guided not only Raven but Anya as well. When Raven began feeling slightly awkward
about their current position, she turned them the slightest bit, pushing Anya
against the edge of the picnic table. Anya leaned back and wrapped her hands around
Raven’s neck, and pulled away from her lips to run her mouth down along Raven’s jaw
and neck, trailing the skin with soft kisses that made Raven’s breath hitch in her
throat.
“Anya, no.”
The woman stopped and looked at her, amused at how flustered she saw Raven had
become. “No to what?”
“Wherever this is going. I am _not_ about to bang in the fucking woods.”
“Who said we were going to…bang?”
“Well if you keep doing what you were doing-“
“Oh please, are you telling me a few neck kisses is all that it takes to bed you?”
Raven now glared at her, almost angry at how well Anya knew her; she had said just
the one thing that she couldn’t resist proving wrong. Raven Reyes was a far too
easy target for dares, and the phrase that Anya’s lips had just spilled had been
dripping with a dare which Raven was almost too scared to accept.
“There’s no bed anywhere here, and I do not want pine needles stuck to my ass. So
no more neck kisses.”
Anya chuckled. “Fair enough, I won’t press. Although I was thinking more in line
with the picnic table, not the ground…”
Raven bit her lip and closed her eyes, allowing her head to fall back as she forced
herself to suppress the desire she had to do exactly as Anya suggested. She may
have wanted it more than anything, but she was also all-too aware of her track
record with relationships.
She’d focus on the feelings aspect first, and worry about the sex later.
“Not today, Anya.”
“So you're saying some day...?” Anya smirked, but there was no actual question in
her voice. Raven realized now that she was toying with her, playing with the fact
that her looks and actions made Raven so flustered.
And, of course, this annoyed her.

“You’re kind of a bitch, you know?”
“A bitch you’d more than gladly let have you were it not for the fact that you
think it’s too soon.”
Raven looked at Anya, and knew then that the woman saw straight through her. “Do
you read minds or something?” She grumbled, pushing herself away from her and
sitting back down onto the bench.
“No, I just figured you were feeling pretty much the same as what I was feeling.”
“You what?”
Anya shrugged. Raven found herself annoyed at the nonchalance she was exhibiting,
and grumbled under her breath.
“We’re going too fast.”
Raven nodded. “We are.”
“But I’m liking where it’s going.”
“So am I.”
“So…slow?”
Raven nodded again and smiled. “Slow.” To emphasize her point, she tossed a fry at
Anya, and it caught in her hair, causing her to huff in annoyance.
“You are literally a child.”
“And this is now a date.”
“I guess.”
“Which means you’re on a date with someone you consider a child. Kinda messed up,
don’t you think?”
Anya threw a fry at Raven, and the brunette grinned devilishly. “Besides, you
started the whole throwing fries thing.”
“That’s only because you’re an asshole.”
“An asshole you’re on a date with.”
* * *
Clarke and Lexa slept the rest of the day and through the night, only waking
briefly when Raven and Anya finally found their way back to the hotel room around
midnight. Clarke slept in Lexa’s arms, her head resting on her chest and her arm
wrapped tightly around Lexa’s waist. Lexa’s arms were around her, tight and firm,
and Clarke found that she enjoyed the way they made her feel safe. She could feel
Lexa’s heart beating steadily beneath her cheek, beneath the soft skin of her
chest, and felt herself rise just the tiniest bit with each breath which her wife
withdrew. Every few hours or so, she found herself waking with a start, only to
settle down the instant she felt Lexa beneath her, calm and asleep as ever. Even in
her sleep, Lexa was holding her tight, and Clarke had no doubt that her being there
was one of the few reasons Lexa was capable of even relaxing this much.
When morning came, the solace of their sleep withered away, and was replaced by a
gnawing, disgusting feeling which both of them could feel in their guts. Neither of
the two could get themselves to stomach anything beyond a few bites of cold pizza
and a few mouthfuls of coffee before they clambered down to the car and started off
to the courthouse. Neither of them spoke during the entirety of the drive; they
were too nervous, too afraid, too concerned about the possible outcomes of the day.
They parked in front of the courthouse, but neither of them got out of the car.
They sat there, breathing in and out, trying to contain the fear and nerves within
one another.
“Lexa.”
Lexa looked at Clarke and offered her a weak smile. “Yeah?”
“Whatever happens today, I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right?”
Lexa leaned in and slid an arm around Clarke’s neck, and the kiss that they shared
was as long as it was soft. “I do,” Lexa whispered, their noses just gently
touching, “And I won’t go anywhere either. You can come kidnap me any time.”
Clarke kissed her again, and Lexa wished that moment could last forever. Clarke’s
lips on her own were soft and warm, and they made her feel whole and real and at
home.
Clarke was home.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Clarke murmured, “But I have faith that we won’t have to
worry about that. We’ll be fine, Lexa. No matter what.”
They walked into the court room at different times on opposing sides, both with
shaky legs and pale faces and shifting eyes. When the Judge arrived, they stood,
and exchanged a look – Lexa was searching for something, for anything in Clarke’s
eyes, and the gentle nod and smile which Clarke gave her made her heart grow warm
and her mind grow sure.
_We’ll be fine._
Indra was beside Clarke, and when Lexa looked at her, she felt awestruck; this was
a woman of power and of confidence, a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get
it. This was someone who Lexa knew could stand a chance against her parents.
“The court will now hear the statements from Dr. Monty Green.”
The doctor stood, and all eyes turned to him. He did not miss the hopeful looks
held within the eyes of the married pair, and smirked inwardly as he looked over
the courtroom and cleared his throat.
“In my evaluation, I assessed not only Miss Griffin’s and Miss Woods’s mental
status and competency, but also those of Mr. and Mrs. Woods. Your Honor will find a
full transcript of our sessions as well as my report before you; feel free to look
over them to take into account in your deliberation.”
The doctor took a brief pause, and the judge turned his attention to the neatly
stapled pile of papers on the table before him.
“After studying Miss Woods’s records and the statements from my colleagues
regarding her mental state which led to her being declared mentally incompetent, I
noted a great difference between what I had seen and what was written in her
records. Her records state that she is “incredibly self-destructive to the point of
threatening her own life” and that “her mind is so severely broken that she can
barely construct a sentence”. However, these statements as well as everything in
those reports were disproven by my talk with Miss Woods. She is, in my professional
opinion, perfectly within the limits of good mental health. I was also provided
with proof by Miss Griffin’s attorney which I took into account in my assessment of
her parents.”
Clarke could see the Woods’ tense up when the doctor said that, and could not help
the smirk that emerged on her face.
“While this is of course subject to deliberation and more professional evaluations,

I judged Mrs. Woods as a borderline sociopathic personality, while her husband
exhibited signs of a severely sadistic mentality bordering on psychopathy. Both of
the two also showed traits of an abuser, and after hearing Miss Woods’s own details
of the abuse which they have extended to her, I have no doubt in saying that
abusing their conservatorship to end a marriage of which they disapprove is in no
way out of their character. The establishment of this conservatorship was, in my
opinion, based on their sadistic and possessive needs alone, and not based on any
real mental incapacity on Miss Woods’s part. My official statement then stands as
follows; I believe that the grounds for conservatorship of Miss Alexandria Woods
are, and never were, valid, and thus the arrangement should be dissolved
altogether.”
He nodded and waited for the judge to allow him to sit, and after he’d done so, the
court remained silent for a long while. Everyone was looking at Judge Wallace now,
waiting and praying for whatever he said to be what they wanted. Clarke was
positively ill, and Lexa looked as though she were about to faint; but then the
judge spoke, and all else disappeared altogether.
“Does the Petitioner have a statement regarding what we just heard?”
The attorney, whose name Lexa refused to learn, stared at him. Lexa knew she had
nothing she could say. There was nothing left to say, all that they could truly do
now was wait.
But the attorney stood nevertheless, and Lexa stood as well, despite the fact that
the room spun when she did so.
“Miss Woods is not capable, not in the slightest – the fact that she was sent to
rehab for four months is more than enough proof. These claims about abuse are not
in any way pertinent to the case, nor is whatever her parents may be; what is
pertinent is the fact that this marriage happened on a false basis and should thus
be ended before more damage can be done to Miss Woods’s fragile psyche. That is
all.”
_I’ll do damage to your fragile psyche if you don’t shut up,_ Lexa growled in her
head, _I’ll hurt you all._
They sat down, and soon after Indra and Clarke stood. The victorious grin on
Indra’s face gave Lexa hope, and when she opened her mouth, Lexa knew they’d won.
“Miss Woods’s attorney referred to her stint in rehab. I would like to point out
that the reason she was sent to rehab was an abusive scheme committed by her
parents, for which we have proof which should be on the table before you. But she
is also right in one thing; that is not really pertinent to this case. What is
pertinent is the fact that Miss Woods is entirely mentally competent and thus the
grounds for conservatorship are rendered invalid, and also the fact that neither
Miss Woods nor Miss Griffin want an annulment. They are happily married and in
love, which is obvious to anyone who sees them together; it would, in my opinion,
be wrong to even attempt dissolving this beautiful union on the basis of homophobic
discrimination and abuse.”
She did not have to state that she had concluded; the silence that fell after she’d
stopped was heavy and powerful, and Lexa felt so overwhelmed she was sure she’d
cry. She looked at Clarke, and saw she was practically beaming at her, those
beautifully blue eyes shining with tears; for a few seconds, it was as though there
was no distance between them at all, as though they were standing not a foot apart.
But then Judge Wallace spoke again, and they turned their attention to him.
“I agree with the Respondent. The conservatorship is hereby dissolved, which allows
me to ask Miss Woods to stand and answer one question.”
His eyes peered at Lexa, who stood up hurriedly, feeling flustered and terrified at
this unexpected turn.
“Miss Woods, do you want your marriage to Miss Griffin dissolved?”
Lexa’s eyes flickered to Clarke, and she smiled gently.
“No, your Honor.”
“Then that is all we need to know. This petition for an annulment is hereby
declined. The court is dismissed.”
> HAPPY ENDING PT.1 AMIRIGHT

> i mean there's still a lot of shit for them to sort out
> but at least lexa's free, so be happy about that
> come yell at me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear pls
21. Chapter 21
> dont forget to leave kudos and comments and to come stalk(or talk to) me on
tumblr @clexy-polarbear
> this one's a bit short because im severely drunk and cannot bring myself to edit
the next 4000 words but i promise they'll be up tomorrow
> enjoy my lovelies
_“Miss Woods, do you want your marriage to Miss Griffin dissolved?”_
_Lexa’s eyes flickered to Clarke, and she smiled gently._
_“No, your Honor.”_
_“Then that is all we need to know. This petition for an annulment is hereby
declined. The court is dismissed.”_
Lexa did not sit down. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, and so she stood there, stunned,
as the judge walked out of the courtroom and left behind him a stunned audience.
The silence that resided over the room was so tense it was electric; Lexa could
practically _feel_ the anger emanating from her parents behind her, but failed to
care any more for that.
She heard the scraping of a chair against the floor as people began standing up,
and that was when the tension dissolved altogether and Lexa felt relief washing
over so quickly she felt all energy drained from her altogether. She felt her knees
buckle, and caught herself against the table, leaning against that one focal point
with all her might to keep herself grounded.
She was not going to faint now.
The attorney rushed out of the room quickly as she could, and Lexa felt bad for
her; she knew her parents would take their anger out on this poor woman, who really
was only doing her job. She wondered whether she should find out her name and try
and help her.
But her worry for the attorney disappeared when she noticed Clarke walking towards
her. Her feet directed themselves away from the table, away from her parents, and
she practically collapsed into Clarke’s arms the instant she was close enough.
Clarke caught her with ease, and for a while, they just stood there, holding one
another and breathing together. “Told you it’d be fine,” Clarke murmured into her
ear, and Lexa smiled so widely she was sure she'd hurt herself.
She drew in a deep breath and held Clarke tight against her as though she feared
she'd slip away if she loosened her hold. She felt numb, as though she’d been hit
by a truck and been left to fend for herself, and wasn't even so sure she was
breathing.
_This amount of joy shouldn’t be possible_ , she thought to herself, _it can’t be
real._
But then her eyes fell to her hand which rested on Clarke’s back, and to the ring
that had grown to become a part of her body; she could no longer feel it actively,
but would rather occasionally be surprised to find it there and then instantly be
overwhelmed with happiness.
Clarke was her wife and would stay her wife.
“I guess I should’ve trusted you more when you said it'd be fine.”
Clarke pulled away and smiled, and when she kissed her wife Lexa could practically
_taste_ the relief and joy on her lips. At the back of her mind she was aware of
the glaring stares of her parents, fixed at her and her wife – she knew they were
furious, and this overtly blatant display of affection was sure to rile them up to
all-too-high levels.
But she didn’t care.
_Let them be angry,_ Lexa hummed in her mind, _they don’t matter._
On their way out of the courtroom Lexa glanced back and threw them the most
satisfied, victorious smirk she could muster. She was sure it was so perfect Raven
would have certainly been proud, for her parents looked just about ready for murder
by the time Lexa and Clarke walked out of the doors and away from them.
Lexa had no interest in quarreling with them. She knew they had words to spit and
yell at her, but they were no longer of any use to her; they were pitiful words,
based on nothing but personal fears and ignorance. She refused to lower herself to
their level and subject herself to the pain of yet another conversation with them.
Indra Porter walked out with them, and they stopped briefly outside the courthouse
doors to exchange a few words.
“Thank you, miss Porter, I-“ Lexa began, but the woman smiled and shushed her with
a simple nod of her head.
“Don’t thank me, Miss Griffin.”
Lexa stared at her, stunned, when she heard herself being addressed to with
Clarke's last name. “Excuse me?”
The woman before her smirked. “Your petition for a name change went through the
instant you regained your legal rights, Miss Griffin. So congratulations on that
part as well.”
Clarke let out an exasperated laugh, and Lexa felt her arm slip around her waist
and pull her closer. She leaned into the blonde, and smiled, and Indra looked so
proud of them that neither of the two really knew what to do with themselves.
“I have a flight to catch, but we’ll see again in about a month or so. The court
date for the preliminary hearing for your lawsuit against your parents is supposed
to be some time in early January, so for now you’ll have some down time to just
breathe. I’ll arrange a meeting with you after Christmas; am I to assume that you
will be moving to New York now?”
Clarke and Lexa nodded.
“Good, then you’ll be hearing from me.” Indra handed Lexa her business card, and
flashed her a bright smile. “Oh, and if you’re interested in a job, just give me a
call. I could always use another Harvard alumni like myself around the office.”
She walked away then, leaving in her wake a completely stunned Lexa and an equally
surprised Clarke.
“You just got offered a job.”
Lexa nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“With her.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Fucking shit I should’ve gone to law school.”
Lexa whirled around then and claimed Clarke’s lips, and the tiny excited squeal
that escaped Clarke’s mouth before their lips connected made Lexa’s head spin as
though she'd downed three shots of vodka. She didn’t care that they stood on the
steps of the courthouse, or that masses of people were walking past them; all she
cared for was Clarke and the fact that they were more than fine.
Had they not been so entangled within one another, they would’ve heard the quiet
murmurs of ‘oh how sweet’ and ‘newlyweds are always so adorable’ which the people
passing by said. For anyone else, the two girls kissing on the courthouse’s steps
did indeed look like newlyweds, and when Raven and Anya returned from their
extended walk, they had to stop further away to take several pictures because they
saw the resemblance as well.
“Looks like they’re fine,” Raven grinned, throwing a sideways glance at Anya. “Told
you they’d be fine.”
“I never said they wouldn’t be.”
“But you refused to believe everything would be fine.”
“I’m not as idiotically optimistic as you are, Raven.”
Raven just hummed and grabbed her hand, sprinting off towards the steps and the
couple that stood at it’s top and dragging Anya along with her. Raven didn’t say a
word, only laughed happily as she quickly rammed into Clarke, pushing her away from
Lexa and enveloping her into a bone-crushing hug. Lexa stared at her, annoyed at
the interruption, but only a second later Anya hugged her as well.
“Everything’s good now, right?”
Lexa nodded, and Anya completely understood her inability to speak. She of all
people knew how overwhelming all of this was for Lexa; this had been something she
had only dreamed of for years, and hadn’t even dared to share the extent of her
yearning with Anya. But Anya had known, because she, too, had suffered similarly at
the hands of her parents, but her situation had been different.
She’d told her parents the night before she had left for her first Doctors Without
Borders mission. She hadn’t bothered to listen to their reactions, and hadn’t heard
from her mother for three months. The only reason she’d even been allowed into the
family was the fact that her elder brother had gotten engaged, and now, two years
later, had borne their parents the grandson they’d always wanted. So Anya no longer
mattered to them as much, and thus she was left to her own devices.
“How did your parents react?”
Lexa tensed up, and Anya pulled away to look at her.
“We…I didn’t speak to them. I just left. I just…I don’t want to deal with them, not
one on one, not again. I’m done with them.”
Anya nodded. “That’s perfectly fine. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”
“How did you know I felt guilty?”
“Because I know you, Lexa. Does Clarke know?”
Lexa glanced at Clarke, who was being suffocated by an overly affectionate Raven-
hug. “Yeah. She does.”
“Then you can stop, Lexa. They don’t mean anything. You don’t owe them anything.”
“I know, Anya. I just…I’ve spent two decades doing what they say. You’ve got to
understand it’s weird.”
“And I do. But I can and I will kick their asses if you want me to.”
“Please don’t, I’m not having you going to prison.”

“Who’s going to prison?”
Anya rolled her eyes when Raven shoved herself into the conversation, a beaming
smile plastered on her face, but failed to truly feel annoyed at her interruption.
“No one, that’s who.” Lexa said determinedly, knitting her eyebrows at Anya. “No
one is kicking my parents’ asses and we’re all just going to be happy, ok?”
Raven looked at her curiously. “Really? You’re just satisfied with this? I’d be out
for blood if I were you. To be honest, I’m already out for blood because your
parents are the literal _devil_ -“
Clarke playfully smacked Raven over the head. “Listen to her, Raven. No kicking
asses or threats whatsoever.”
“Why?” Raven whined, rubbing at her head. Anya half wanted to hug her then, cradle
her from the inexistent and fake pain that she was feigning to have; but Raven was
annoying, and she reminded herself of that, even in the face of the memories of her
lips against her own just an hour before.
“They’re experts at lawsuits and restraining orders and harassment suits.”
“So no ass-kicking?”
“No ass-kicking, Raven.”
But had Clarke seen that daring twinkle in Raven’s eye, she would have known the
exasperated sigh and the groaned ‘fi-ine’ were not fully honest. But her eyes were
fixed on Lexa, as were Anya’s, and so Raven’s concealed decision to figure out some
way to sneak in some ass-kicking was left unnoticed.
“Ok, if I’m not going to get to kick anyone’s ass, at least tell me we can
celebrate today’s victory.”
Clarke groaned. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? I just…I’m exhausted. And I know how
your celebrations go.”
Raven laughed then, and the bubbling, rippling sound was all-too welcome in the
aftermath of the gloomiest few days. “Yes, I know. Fine. Go bang your wife and
relish the fact that you can now totally go and die together whenever the time
comes. I’ll just drag miss Anya here to see a movie or something.”
“Or we could take the car and drive around?” Anya suggested. “I’m not so sure I can
take another movie filled with your commentaries.”
“Oh, please, my commentaries are perfect.”
_Not when they’re whispered into my ear from a all-too near proximity_ , Anya
thought to herself. “We’ve seen three movies today. No more.”
Raven rolled her eyes, and Clarke was far too entertained to see her budging in the
face of Anya’s demand.
“Fine, we’ll do whatever you want. But it better not be a museum.”
“What’s wrong with museums?” Anya asked innocently.
“Shut up. Let’s just get the disgusting married pair to their love nest and get our
butts moving before the tension between the two of them causes us all to
spontaneously drop down and die.”
* * *
Lexa wasted no time in practically running to the bed and collapsing into it the
second they arrived at the hotel room. Clarke sauntered in a moment later, feeling
almost drunk on the joy and relief, and laughed when she saw Lexa sprawled out on
the bed, her neat blazer tossed to the side and her pencil skirt hiked up to her
waist.
“You look ridiculous,” she giggled as she shed her own skirt and blazer, “Like
you’d just run a marathon.”
Lexa groaned. “I feel like I’ve run a thousand marathons.”
Clarke walked over to the bed, now only wearing a button-up and her underwear, and
for a moment, Lexa forgot about anything except the fact that Clarke’s nimble
fingers were undoing her shirt’s buttons, one by one, revealing soft skin and a
light blue bra which Lexa had grown to adore. She was sitting up now on the edge of
the bed, and Clarke promptly sat down into her lap, straddling her hips as she
leaned in to kiss her wife. Lexa hummed, and felt all else slip away, leaving only
a barely dressed Clarke and the soft bed beneath them for her to enjoy.
She placed her hands atop Clarke’s, and did not need to speak for the ‘let me’ to
be known. Clarke let her hands find their way around Lexa’s neck as her slender
fingers undid the rest of the buttons of her shirt, faster than she had been doing
it, and a tiny gasp escaped her lips when Lexa’s hands slid along the supple skin
of her waist to wrap around it and pull her even closer.
“We’re staying married,” Lexa murmured against Clarke’s lips, “You’re my wife and
you won’t stop being my wife.”
Clarke felt her heart flip when she heard that. “Yes, Lexa, I’m your wife so you
better get used to it.”
“I don’t think I want to.”
“Why not?”
“I love how it makes me feel, realizing we’re married. I don’t want it to become a
normal thing.”
Clarke pulled away and looked deep into her eyes, a smile playing at her lips.
“Lexa, that’s the whole point.”
“Wait, what’s the whole point? And of what?”
“Of marriage, dumbass.” Clarke chuckled. She kissed Lexa gently before continuing,
“And normality. We’re married and that’s our life now. The whole point is that
we’re going to live our lives together and it’s going to be normal and comfortable
and nice.”
When Clarke saw Lexa’s eyes shining, she kissed her yet again, and Lexa smiled
despite the tears of joy that were almost spilling from her eyes. “You’re
ridiculous, you know?”
“What?”
“You’re making me _cry_ , Clarke, with your cutesy words and romantic talk.”
“Crying isn’t bad.”
“I’d rather be having sex with you.”
The bluntness of the statement caught Clarke off guard, as did Lexa when she
flipped them over, laying Clarke onto the bed with gentle arms before bending down
to press her lips against the soft skin of her chest. “I want to be close to you,”
she murmured, “I need to be close to you.”
Clarke laughed and leaned back to let Lexa do what she did best. “You’re adorable.”
The brunette huffed and paused her kissing, resting her chin on Clarke’s shoulder
as she peered at her with laughter twinkling in her eyes. “I’d like to think I’d be
something adorable at the moment.”
Clarke laughed again, and Lexa grumbled in annoyance. “I’m sorry, Lexa, but you’re
just too cute.”
“Am I cute if I do this?” Lexa asked, her voice almost a growl as she slid her hand
up to cup Clarke’s breast. “Or this?” She leaned in and nipped at the soft skin,
causing Clarke’s breath to hitch in her throat, and was thoroughly satisfied to
find her looking at her with eyes now filled with lust.
“Am I, Clarke?”
Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
“Make me.”
And Clarke did just that.
> indra's basically a badass mama bear to these cuties

> also ranya is becoming too precious, im working on a fic for em which will be up
sometime when i find time
> also christmas time is coming up next so get yoselves ready for some adorable
realness even tho christmas was like months ago
22. Chapter 22
> warning this chapter is full of fluff and some smut but mostly fluff get your
lesbian life alert ready
> christmas got postponed due to a significant influx of clexa and ranya cuteness
> sorry not sorry
Raven and Anya returned to the hotel room in the early hours of the morning to find
the married pair sound asleep, and thoroughly naked, cuddling each other on the
bed. The covers luckily prevented them from actually seeing them, but nevertheless
it was obvious that the two had enjoyed a celebration of their own.
“I still can’t believe we agreed to share a room with them.” Anya muttered as she
climbed into her own single bed. “We knew this would be happening.”
“You mean sex?”
Anya rolled her eyes and threw a pillow at Raven, who was trying her best to stifle
her laughter. “Yes, sex.”
“Don’t be such a prude, it’s a beautiful thing. It’s a union of two loving souls-“
"Oh please."
"Come on, Anya-"
“Raven, shut up, I’m not having sex with you. Not here.”
Raven faked a pout and came to stand near Anya’s bedside. “A girl can try, can’t
she?”
“Not today.”
“You wanted to fuck me in the woods just two days ago.”
“We’re not alone, Raven.”
"Fine." Raven huffed and sat down onto Anya’s bed. “You want me to sleep with you
tonight?”
Anya stared at her, perplexed, wondering if the brunette had failed to hear any of
what she had just said. “And by sleep with you mean…?”
“I mean sleep, Anya. Just sleep.”
Raven offered Anya a tentative smile, and all inhibitions or protest that may have
before then resided within Anya's mind melted away. She nodded and shuffled to the
side of the bed to allow Raven to spoon her from behind, and Raven was more than
happy to lie down beside her. She wrapped her arms around Anya’s waist and pulled
her in closer, so that her hips pressed into her and so that she was able to nuzzle
her face into Anya’s neck. With the light brown hair pushed out of the way,
however, Raven caught sight of ink on Anya's smooth skin, and was surprised to say
the least.
“You’ve got a tattoo?”
Anya turned her head slightly, and Raven contemplated for a moment closing the
distance and kissing her. But the position was awkward and Anya’s neck was already
craned, not to mention she had just settled down comfortably - no, she was
comfortable as she was.
“Yeah,” Anya said quietly, “It’s not very big, though.”
Raven could barely tell what it was because Anya’s shirt was covering it. “Can I
look?”
She nodded slightly, and Raven carefully pulled the shirt’s collar downwards to
reveal a decorative dragon tattoo that ran downwards from the nape of Anya’s neck
to the middle of her shoulder blades. There were some Chinese characters scattered
around it, and Raven couldn’t help but notice how intricate the design was; the
scales were tiny and perfectly set, in a wonderful combination of blues and reds
that made the dragon appear a violet shade from afar. The dragon itself was a east-
Asian type dragon with a long, slim body and short clawed limbs and a large,
slightly open mouth that looked as though it were stretched into a devilish smile.
It was beautiful and suited Anya perfectly, despite Raven never having thought her
the type to have a tattoo. Even so, the dragon seemed perfect for her, and was most
certainly as much a part of her body as her fingers or her pretty lips.
Raven tried to think of something smart to say about the tattoo, but ended up
blurting out: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Anya, of course, was thoroughly confused by her comment. “What?”
“I’ve got a dragon tattoo, too.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What do you mean you know?”
“You’re not exactly shy when it comes to changing, Raven. I’ve seen it.”
“Are you saying you’ve been watching me change?”
Anya gave Raven a gentle poke with her elbow. “Shut up.”
Raven just laughed, her breath tickling Anya’s skin, and pulled her closer to
herself. “Admit it. You liked what you saw.”
“Shut up.”
"You're not denying it."
"Shut up."
“You did enjoy it.”
"Raven-"
"You di-id-"
“Raven, I swear to god, if you don’t shut up, I-“
“You’re what? Gonna make me?”
“I’m not doing this now. I want to sleep.”
“And I’m feeling assholeish.”
Anya groaned and turned to face Raven. “I swear, I will murder you one day.”
“I doubt that.”
Their faces were barely an inch apart, and Anya suddenly became excruciatingly
aware of this. More than anything, Anya wanted to wipe the smug grin from Raven’s
face.
And then she realized that the tension was too high to ignore, too great for her to
pass it off. Raven was Raven and Anya wanted to have her right there and then.
“Really?” She asked, knitting her eyebrows at Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes and began to speak: “Rea-“
But Anya silenced Raven with a passionate kiss, and Raven squealed at the surprise;
she hadn’t expected Anya to do that so quickly, and the fact that the woman’s
tongue slipped into her mouth not moments later thoroughly rendered Raven helpless.
She had intended to tease and poke at Anya, to see how far she could push her; but
now she found herself pinned underneath her, with Anya’s mouth claiming her own in
a hungry and rough fashion which made Raven feel like she was melting into her
touch. She had been having fun with Anya not seconds before, and now she felt
herself being claimed in a way that made her feel weak and far too aroused.
“Ah, fuck,” she breathed when Anya pulled away for a breath, “Fuck you for teasing
me.”
Anya kissed her again, with as much force as before, only this time she brought a
hand up to grab at Raven's hair and hold her head in place for her to gain better
access. Raven whimpered slightly when she felt Anya’s other hand dig into her waist
and press her down even harder, and Anya grinned victoriously when she realized she
had all the control. Raven was like putty in her hands, and when she pressed her
thigh at the brunette’s core, a groan escaped her lips, so loud Anya feared it
would wake the couple in the bed on the other side of the room.
“Hush, Raven,” she murmured, “You don’t want to wake Clarke, do you?” To emphasize
her point, she pressed with her thigh again, and Raven whimpered as she fought to
remain silent.
“You’re making keeping quiet near impossible, Anya.” Raven grumbled. “And you know
you are.”
“I do.”
“You bitch.”
“You’re just too easy to tease,” Anya hummed, “Impossible to resist.”
“You’re evil.” Raven glared at her for a few moments before grabbing her face and
pulling her down for a kiss. “But I kinda like that.”
The two of them were interrupted with a pillow which collided with Anya’s head and
a loud huff from the other side of the room.
“Please don’t tell me you two are having sex while we’re in the room.” Clarke
groaned from the bed. She had woken just moments before in time to hear Raven moan,
and she of all people knew what that moan usually meant.
Anya glared at Raven. “I told you to keep quiet.”
“And I told you, you’re making it impossible.” Raven quipped. “And no, Clarke,
we’re not banging, Anya’s just trying to _kill_ me with frustration.”
“Well can you keep it down?”
“I don’t know, Anya, can we?”
Anya pressed down with her thigh for the third time and Raven had to bite her lip
to stifle the moan that would have otherwise escaped her lips. “That’s for you to
figure out, Raven. You’ve been insufferable all day, and I have some frustrations
to work out. On you.”
“I swear to god, Raven-“ Clarke began.
“This is _so_ not my doing!” Raven snapped. “Blame Anya. But just go back to sleep,
we'll try to keep it down.”
“Hard to sleep when you’re moaning like you’re about to finish.”
“Shut up, Clarke.”
“You’ll wake _Lexa_ soon, and that’s near impossible to do.”
“Clarke, just sleep. I’ll shut up.”
Clarke chuckled to herself and closed her eyes, pulled Lexa further up on her chest
and rested her face against Lexa’s head. The brunette’s hairs tickled her cheeks,
but holding her close made Clarke feel happy and warm and comfortable. There was
not a single piece of clothing in between them; Lexa was laying on top of her, skin
on skin, and they were so warm and fit so well together it was perfect.
“I love you, Lexa.” Clarke murmured, thinking Lexa was asleep. But then the
brunette shifted in her arms and she felt a gentle kiss against her shoulder, and
then realized that Lexa was awake, too.
“I love you too, Clarke.” Lexa whispered, her voice soft and thick with tiredness.
She kept her eyes shut, and did not raise her head; she remained there, on Clarke’s
chest, listening to her heart beat steadily beneath the soft skin. She had nowhere
else she would rather be.
Clarke smiled gently. “You should be sleeping.”
“So should you.”
“Raven woke me up.”
“Same.”
“Raven!” Clarke called out, now thoroughly annoyed. “You bitch, you woke up Lexa!”
“Well I apologize for being currently ravished by a devilishly evil bitch!” Raven
snapped back from where Anya was currently littering passionate kisses along her
neck. “Anya, seriously. Lexa’s up too.”
“Then tell me to stop.”
“Anya-“
“Fine, Raven, I'll stop. But you’re weak.”
“I’d be more than happy to comply were it not for the fact that Clarke and Lexa are
in the room.”
Anya sat up then and looked over at the other bed. “Can you guys go somewhere for a
while?”
“What, now?” Clarke asked, astonished. She stared at the other pair on Anya's bed;
Raven was laying flat on her back, with Anya straddling her hips and sitting up
against her thighs. It looked very intimate but also very amusing, because even in
the hazy darkness of the morning she could see Raven's breath heaving and could
only imagine the extent of her current frustration. “It’s like 4 in the morning.”
Anya groaned and fixed her eyes at the brunette who was still laying on Clarke’s
chest. “Please, Lexa?”
Lexa laughed as she got up off of Clarke and grabbed her clothes from the pile next
to the bed. “Come on, Clarke. We’ve kicked them out plenty of times. Time to return
the favour.”
“But I want to sleep.”
“How about we go see lake Tahoe instead?”
“It’s 4 in the fucking morning, Lexa. How are _you_ awake and functioning?”
“I’m not, I just know that if we don’t leave Anya will murder us. And I’d very much
like to live.” Lexa laughed and tossed Clarke a shirt. “Now put on some clothes,
let’s go.”
Clarke grumbled all the way through pulling on some leggings and a hoodie and
walking out of the door. Right before she closed the door, she made sure to throw
Raven a murderous glare, but was quickly pulled away by Lexa’s hand grabbing her
own and dragging her along.
The instant the door slammed shut behind Clarke, Anya lied back down over Raven and
pressed her lips against Raven’s. Raven was still in a daze, overwhelmed by want
and lust for the woman currently kissing her, but was trying her best to not fall
completely into her mind. She planted her hands onto Anya’s hips and kissed her
back, but even with her attempts to make Anya react she ended up being the one
whimpering and moaning on the bed.
“Damnit, Anya, what do I have to do to get you to moan?”
Anya smirked and shifted her hips slightly, causing Raven to gasp when the pressure
shifted to a new place and surprised her with a jolt of pleasure. “You’re more than
welcome to try.”
Their lips met again, but this time, Raven was determined to make Anya whimper like
she had. She pulled Anya’s shirt over her head with ease, and wasn’t surprised to
find she wore nothing underneath – she may or may not have snuck some glances at
Anya moments before when she had changed into her pajamas. Raven slid a hand up to
cup Anya’s breast as she tore her lips away from her mouth and moved them to kiss
at Anya’s neck, knowing this was her weakness. Sure enough, Anya’s lips soon let
loose a tiny whimper when Raven’s lips pressed and sucked at her pulse point, and
for that moment, Raven felt like the one in control.
But then Anya’s thigh pressed down at her core again and she could have sworn she
saw stars, because for that slight moment it was as though her mind had melted away
altogether.
“Fucking shit, Anya.”
“You’re a dirty-mouthed fucker, you know that?”
“Was that a pun?”
“Maybe.”
Raven groaned and pulled Anya back up to kiss her, now thoroughly annoyed and
aroused and pissed and overwhelmed with lust and passion and want. Their tongues
met and melded together, and Raven could taste Anya everywhere in her own mouth; it
was intoxicating, as though Anya’s tongue were tipped with pure alcohol, and it was
so intense it almost burned Raven’s mouth. But it was also the best that she had
ever had, and she just wanted more - she wanted all of it, all of Anya, to taste
all of her and to have her moaning and whimpering beneath her touch. But currently
it was Raven who was moaning and whimpering, and Anya who was causing it.
She was so thoroughly distracted by Anya’s mouth that she failed to notice Anya’s
hand sliding down along her ribs and stomach until suddenly there were fingers
toying with the waistband of her boxer shorts. When she realized the location of
Anya’s hand, Raven felt her stomach falling and doing a thousand flips as a wave of
arousal ran through her body. She raised her eyes to meet Anya’s, and saw the
question within them before Anya’s lips voiced them.
“You want me to keep going?”
Raven groaned and rolled her eyes, and Anya smiled in the face of her frustration.
“Fucking shit, Anya, of course I do.”
* * *
Clarke and Lexa stood outside in the parking lot, staring at the car, with no idea
what to do.
“D’you want to go somewhere?”
Lexa yawned and shrugged. “I guess?”
“Where to?”
“Anya said they went to lake Tahoe. It’s like a half an hour drive or something.”
Clarke smiled and climbed into the car. “Well come on, Lexa. Let’s go see lake
Tahoe.”
And so they drove on to the lake at 4 in in the morning that Friday in December. It
was cold and dark and windy, and Lexa fell asleep in the front seat not two minutes
into the drive. She was curled up with a blanket, her knees up to her chest, and
she looked so lethally adorable Clarke had troubles keeping her eyes on the road.
Every now and then, she would sigh and shift slightly, and smile in her sleep, and
had Clarke not been concentrated on not driving off the road she would have
certainly awwed at her wife's adorable sleeping habits.
They found their way to a beach on the shore of the lake, and Clarke sat in silence
for a while before leaning over and waking Lexa with a gentle kiss.
“We’re here, sleepyhead.”
Lexa kissed her back, but yawned mid-kiss, and Clarke was sure a part of her died
because it was just too cute for her to handle.
“Now what?”
Clarke shrugged. “You wanna wander around?”

“In the woods? In the dark?”
“Is that a no?”
Lexa yawned again and nodded. “Can’t we just lie down in the back and nap for a few
hours until the sun comes up? I want to see the sunrise.”
“We’re on the eastern side of the lake.”
“So?”
“The sun’ll rise behind us.”
“Then let’s go somewhere where we can see the east and the sun.”
Clarke smiled. “You’re just thinking of ways that you can sleep again, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Lexa grinned brightly. "Which is a yes."
They drove on for about another half an hour before finding a point where the
ground rose up to an almost cliff-like formation above the water, and from where
they could see the horizon to all directions. The skyline in the east was already
slightly coloured pink, and they could practically feel the world waking up.
“Come on, Lexa, get up.” Clarke whispered, nudging Lexa awake. She was standing on
her side of the car, the door open, and waiting for Lexa to get up and come out to
join her.
Lexa groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. "No."
"Lexa..."
"I'm so comfortable."
"Either you get up or I drag out."
When Lexa made no attempt at getting up, Clarke slipped her arms around her waist
and promptly pulled her out of the car. “Come on, you said you wanted to see the
sunrise.”
Lexa stood then, and she and Clarke walked over to the front of the car and climbed
on the hood. The blanket Lexa wrapped around the both of them, and they laid back
against the front window. Lexa sat in between Clarke’s legs, her head resting in
the crook of Clarke’s neck while Clarke’s head rested on her shoulder. Clarke’s
arms were around her waist, and one of Lexa’s arms rested on her thigh. They were
comfortable together, and underneath the blanket it was warm and soft.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Clarke asked after a while.
Lexa nodded, drawing herself out of the sleepy daze she’d slipped into. “Yeah, it
is.”
“Look, the sun’s rising.”
What Lexa saw astounded her to say the least; there was just the tiniest sliver of
gold rising above the horizon before them, the sky and few scattered clouds painted
the brightest reds and pinks and yellows that Lexa had ever seen. They sat
together, silent, and watched as the light grew and grew until the world around
them began to awaken. The steady lapping sound of waves against the shore became
more prominent with each passing moment as the wind picked up and the world awoke.
The trees that surrounded them rustled in the cool, gentle wind, and in that
moment, Lexa could have sworn she must've been in a dream.
But then she felt soft lips kissing her neck, and turned her head to meet Clarke’s
lips, and the beautiful scenery before her held no value to her any longer. How
could it, when the most beautiful woman in the world was holding her, touching her,
_kissing_ her, and she could feel the ring on Clarke’s finger gently pressing
against her skin and reminding her that this woman was her wife - no, nothing could
compare to the beauty of this moment, of this intimacy that she shared with Clarke,
and Lexa was so happy then she was afraid she would explode.
“You’re pretty amazing,” she sighed. “Too amazing.”
“I never thought you’d be such a romantic.”
Lexa looked at Clarke, perplexed. “Really?”
“I expected you to be more…cool. But you seem more like someone who’d light a
thousand candles and scatter rose petals in our bedroom, and I think I like that.”
“Do you _want_ me to light a thousand candles and scatter rose petals in our
bedroom?”
Clarke laughed gently. “If you’d like, though I feel like something would light on
fire in the process.”
“Candles are pretty, though.”
“Not worth dying in a fire, though.”
Lexa chuckled and kissed Clarke again. “That’s a fair point.”
The morning sun blessed them with her golden rays, and once again, Lexa found
herself staring at Clarke in awe. The light made her hair shine like gold, and her
eyes looked warm and gentle as ever; she felt so overwhelmed with love that she
simply couldn’t keep it in. She sat up and turned in Clarke’s lap, settling herself
so that she straddled Clarke’s lap and rested against her chest as she leaned down
and kissed her gently.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, “The sunrise doesn’t even begin to compare to
you.”
Clarke smiled and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist. “I'm surprised to find you
awake at this hour, you know.”
“I am definitely awake.” Lexa grinned and kissed her again, and Clarke leaned back
so that she rested on the windshield and so that Lexa rested on her chest. Her arms
slid underneath Lexa’s sweater and ran along the soft, warm, skin in a way that
made Lexa shudder, and she groaned.
“Really, Clarke, now?”
Clarke paused the kissing and smirked at Lexa. “Are you telling me straddling my
lap and moving your hips like you're doing isn’t you saying you want to fuck?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Maybe not on the hood of the car.”
“Maybe not.”
They kissed again, and for a moment forgot they were meant to be moving to some
more appropriate location.
“Backseat?”
“Backseat.”
> HOW CUTE WAS THAT

> lexa is a sleepy lil fucker and clarke is adorable and i just love them so much i
want to give them all the happiness in the world
> also yes i've hopped on the candle hoe bandwagon u can fight me if u want
23. Chapter 23
> im treating you guys to so much fluff rn because today's the clexa kiss
anniversary and i am in awe of the world
> also some new (or old) characters come onto the scene, so have fun with that :)
They were all too pleased to leave behind Carson City and Nevada altogether. With
only two days left on Raven’s clock before she was due back for work (she had
managed to negotiate with her boss to the very limit of his patience) and the
group’s general exhaustion in living in motel rooms and driving day to day, they
found themselves speeding their way back to New York.
It was two weeks until Christmas. Although they initially remained in the more
southern states per Anya’s request, they did take a quick detour to Michigan to
visit Raven’s aunt and see the snow.
Anya hated the snow, but everyone else loved it. And so they’d spent hours throwing
snowballs at one another until everyone’s asses were wet and sore and cold, and
then they’d climbed into the car and driven off in search of somewhere warm and
cozy.
Two days later they arrived in New York. Anya had been dropped off first at her
studio apartment in Brooklyn; Raven had secretly written down the address for
future reference, but Clarke had of course noticed and decided to be a good friend
and not mention it.
“So, where’s this palace of yours?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “A loft, Raven. Take the next right.”
“It’s in Manhattan, Lexa. You own it completely. It’s a fuckin’ palace. Man, I wish
I had a loft in Manhattan.”
Clarke laughed gently and threw a glance to the backseat where Lexa sat alone. “You
want to tell Raven, or should I?”
Raven looked at her quickly, surprise evident in her eyes. “Tell me what?”
“You go, Clarke.”

“Clarke, what?”
Clarke couldn’t hold the laughter; Raven looked so shocked, so confused, and it was
all too hilarious to her for some reason. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d slept
the night before in the backseat, or the fact that she was absolutely starving;
nevertheless, it took her a good few minutes before she regained her ability to
speak.
“You can move in, if you want.”
“Move in? With you? To the palace?”
“Well, more like the stables of the palace. But yes. You won’t have to deal with
Fat George or that gross neighbor anymore.”
“Don’t forget my landlord’s constant suggestions that my rent be paid ‘by

alternative means’.” Raven added, shuddering slightly at the thought. “Are you
serious?”
“The loft complex has a separate studio apartment with it’s own door and key and
everything. You’re welcome to take it, if you want.” Lexa told her. “I figured
since you’re Clarke’s friend, I-“
“I don’t need a speech, I’m taking it.” Raven decided. “Except wait. How much is
the rent?”
“Rent?”
“I’m not mooching off of you. Tell me a price and I’ll either cry about it or pay
up.”
A reasonable price was soon agreed upon, and so, when they came to the towering
apartment building overlooking Manhattan and Central Park, all three were looking
at their new home.
“Holy shit, Lexa, you didn’t tell me it was this big.” Clarke gasped as she stepped
out of the car. They all got out on the sidewalk when a valet came over and took
the car down to the underground parking space. Raven was naturally in awe of the
whole setup; she had never even imagined she’d be personally attended to by valets
and doormen, let alone that she’d end up living in a loft apartment overlooking
Manhattan.
In all honesty, neither had Clarke. Of course, when she’d been moving to New York,
she had kept the dream of some day living in a fancy, expensive apartment, but that
had only been a dream. But when she walked into the building’s lobby side by side
with her wife, she felt like reality had become her dream, and was all too pleased
to find she was able to function normally.
They crossed the marble floors to the reception, where Lexa exchanged a few words
and a tight smile with the receptionist before receiving the keys to her and
Raven’s apartments. She then walked them through two doors into a smaller lobby,
from where they stepped into an elevator which brought them up to the top floor of
the building. Even the elevator exuded an air of luxury; the mirrors were pristine,
and the beams along the side were polished golden steel. Stepping out of the
elevator, they found themselves in a hallway with marble floors which was lit by
small crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Lexa smirked at the astonished
looks plastered on both Clarke’s and Raven’s faces as she began walking towards the
end of the hall.
“You guys coming or what?”
That got the two of them moving. Lexa stood in front of one door, and when Raven
reached her, she handed her a key and smiled. “Enjoy.”
Raven looked at her, then the door. “This is my place?”
“Yes, it is.”
Lexa did not wait to see what Raven thought of her place. She wanted to show Clarke
what would become their home, and so she grabbed her wife’s hand and dragged her
further down the hall. On the dark brown door, there was the apartment number in
gold: 214.
“214?” Clarke asked. “Aren’t we on like the 50th floor or something?”
Lexa shrugged. “This is the 21st floor of residential apartments, and the fourth
apartment. Do you really want to worry about the number?”
“No, I just thought it was weird. 2 and 14.”
Lexa then handed her the key. “Nevermind about the number. Go ahead, open it.”
Clarke felt a sudden drop in her stomach, and excitement coursed through her veins
as she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door to her new home.
“Our new home,” Lexa murmured, wrapping an arm around Clarke’s waist and walking
her inside, “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”
Clarke stood there, leaning against her, partially because she liked the feel of
Lexa holding her and because she was in awe of what she was seeing. The loft was
open and spacious, with white walls and floor-to-ceiling windows and hardwood
floors and a winding spiral staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs. A balcony
surrounded the entire apartment, and Clarke half wanted to rush out and see the
view; but there was so much more to see inside that she decided against it.
“It’s beautiful, Lexa.”
“It’s not very furnished, yet.”
Clarke nodded and looked around. There were a few odd pieces of furniture around; a
couch, a few bookshelves, an older model television and a couple of piles of books.
“I haven’t really lived here yet, but we can go furniture shopping tomorrow. Or
today, really.” Lexa explained. “I have some furniture in storage that I’m having
brought here tomorrow, but I didn’t do anything more because I thought you’d like
to have a say in how our home looks.”
Clarke smiled and turned in her arms, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before
speaking. “It’s amazing, Lexa, and it’ll be perfect. We’ll make it ours.”
“We do have a bed, though.”
“Well that’s convenient.”
“Want to go take a nap?”
“Lead the way.”

* * *
The next day they spent furnishing their apartment and saving what they could from
Raven’s place; most of what Clarke owned she had sold when she’d moved out of her
own place, and so she only ended up having a few boxes of books and art supplies
and clothes to bring into their massive apartment. Lexa’s ‘few pieces of furniture’
turned out to be about three boxes full of books and a complete leather lounge set
with a couch and two armchairs and a coffee table, all made of soft beige leather
and decorated with dark wooden parts. They had then scoured just about every thrift
store in the city, finding mismatching pieces of furniture and inventing stories
for them. Lexa refused to allow anything mass-produced into her home – it reminded
her of what her parents used to furnish their spaces with, and she wanted to have
her home hold her own touch. Clarke had no trouble with a mismatched furnishing
plan; if anything, she relished the challenge. Not to mention that was the only way
she knew how to furnish anything whatsoever.
The generic plain bed in the master bedroom was taken into the second bedroom to
make way for an ancient wooden bedframe into which they purchased a soft,
comfortable mattress which took them far too long to pick out of the billions of
options given to them at the store. The bedframe was carved and regal-looking, and
Clarke was sure it had existed for at least a few centuries.
Lexa kept the seller’s comment about it having been made in the late 1960s to
herself, because the thought of them having an ancient, historic bed seemed to
please Clarke.
Clarke had set up a canopy over the bed from some old curtains, and strung up
fairy-lights so that at night, their bed looked as though it were set beneath a
starry sky. They managed to get a whole two days of peace and quiet and cuddling
before real life came calling. They were laying on the couch downstairs, Clarke in
Lexa's lap, when her phone began ringing for the umpteenth time that day.
"I think you should get it," Lexa murmured. "They've been calling you all day."
"Or maybe a lot of people have called me once today."
"Just answer the phone.
And so Clarke got up with a groan and got her phone, recognizing the caller’s ID
immediately.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Happy holidays, Clarke. How are you?”
Clarke slumped down onto the couch beside Lexa. “I’m good. You?”
“Just finished a 48-hour shift.”
“Then go to sleep.”
“On my way. I called to ask you when you’re coming down for Christmas.”
“When? Not if?”

“Yes, Clarke, I am expecting you here for Christmas. And your wife, too, of
course.”
That slight word was enough to make Clarke chuckle, and her eyes flickered over to
Lexa to find her watching her with a smile on her face.
“Yeah, we’re coming. When can we come?”
“You don’t have work?”
“Not at the moment, no.”
“Clarke-“
“I have an interview scheduled after the holidays. Trust me, I’ve got it all under
control.”
“If you say so,” Abby sighed on the other end. “Anyway, I start my vacation on
Christmas Eve and it ends on the 27th, so you can come whenever, really.”
“What if we came down there on the 23rd? We can start dinner preparations then,
like the cakes and stuff-“
“Clarke, you’re an awful cook. Unless Lexa is a secret Michelin-star chef, I am not
having either of you near the kitchen for anything other than doing the dishes.”
Clarke put the phone down briefly. “Do you know how to cook?”
“I guess?” Lexa shrugged.
“Lexa can cook,” Clarke said into the phone.
“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”
“But you need your rest.”
“Feeding you and Marcus and whichever friends you decide to drag down with you is
my rest, Clarke. I like it.”
Clarke nodded. “Fair enough. I think Raven and Octavia and Bellamy are coming, and
Lincoln of course-“
“We’re going to need more mattresses.”
“Bellamy’s driving his camper van, so that’s got like three beds already.”
Lexa patted Clarke’s thigh gently to get her attention, and Clarke put the phone
down for a second.
“Can she make that apple pie again? It was so good.”
Clarke laughed gently. “Mom, Lexa’s asking if you can make apple pie.”
“That’s not exactly my Christmas tradition.”
“It’s great pie, though.”
Clarke could just imagine the smile that was playing on her mother’s lips. “Fair
enough. But Lexa best be getting me the best Christmas gift for my troubles.”
“I’m sure she’ll come up with something,” Clarke smiled. “But you sound like you’re
about to fall asleep. I’ll go.”
“See you in a few days, Clarke.”
“Yeah, Mom. See you.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Clarke went set the phone down onto the table. “Well, you’re going to have to buy
mom a present now.”
“What?”
“She’s expecting a gift from you.”
“But I don’t know her. I don’t know-“
Clarke laughed and climbed over to lay against Lexa’s chest, pushing the brunette
down onto the couch. “It’s fine. We can give her a present together, since we’re
married. It’s perfectly allowed now.”
Lexa laughed gently. “I was trying to read, you know.”
“You can still read,” Clarke murmured as she laid her head down onto Lexa’s chest.
“I’ll just take a nap.”
Lexa smiled and shifted slightly, and Clarke sighed contently as she closed her
eyes and relaxed completely. “You’re pretty great, you know that?”
The brunette let out a quiet laugh. “Pretty great? Clarke, I’m your wife. You don’t
have to address me like some seventh-grade crush.”
“Shush. I’m tired.”
“Then sleep.” Lexa said softly. She let go of her book with one hand and began
running it along Clarke’s upper back and neck, drawing circles so gently it was as
though a feather were running along her skin. The contact relaxed Clarke into
another dimension, and before long, she was fast asleep in Lexa’s arms.
* * *
The next morning they went over to Octavia’s place for a Sunday brunch. Clarke knew
Octavia didn’t organize such things, and would have probably lived her whole life
without throwing a Sunday brunch were it not the perfect guise under which to lure
Clarke and her mysterious Vegas-wed wife to her house for an inspection.
Raven had, of course, provided Octavia with ample photo evidence of the wife’s
existence, but she was burning to meet this mysterious Lexa. Like Raven, Octavia
had spent most of her friendship with Clarke knowing that she was adamantly against
marriage and the concept of love – and yet, here she was, happily married and in
love, and Octavia could not wait to meet her wife.
Clarke knew this, and found herself slightly anxious as they rang the doorbell to
Octavia’s and Lincoln’s apartment that Sunday morning. Octavia practically skipped
over to the door, and Lincoln failed to hide his judging shake of head at the sight
of his wife.
Octavia pulled open the door to reveal an anxious Clarke, hand-in-hand with a very
pretty brunette who had striking green eyes and a very quiet and almost regal
composure.
“Happy holidays, O.” Clarke smiled, reaching over to give her a hug. “You too,
Lincoln.”
“Happy holidays.” Octavia answered, and her words were echoed by her husband. “And
this is your wife?”
“Yeah, this is Lexa.”
Lexa offered Octavia her hand, and the girl shook it gently, offering her a
friendly smile which simultaneously perplexed Lexa and set her at ease. The man who
stood beside her, with his hand on her shoulder, was looking at her with amusement
and curiosity, but Lexa found she was not uncomfortable by his presence. Like his
wife, he seemed friendly, too.
“Pleased to meet you, Lexa.”
They sat down around the table, where an assortment of breakfast food was set. “Dig
in,” Lincoln encouraged them, and Clarke didn’t need to be told twice. She’d
skipped breakfast, knowing they were coming to the brunch, and she was starving.
Lexa was starving as well, but was not yet comfortable enough around these two of
Clarke’s friends to properly enjoy the food that was on offer. She could feel
Octavia studying her, as well as the slight glances which Lincoln stole at her
every chance he got; even though he was much more subtle than his wife, Lexa knew
that he was as curious about her as Octavia was.
“So, Clarke. Why have you been dodging my calls?”
Lexa now saw Clarke tense up, and couldn’t help the slight smile that spread onto
her lips.
“I haven’t been avoiding you, O.”
“Seems like you have.”
“You just call at very…unfortunate times.”
“I’ve been trying to catch you for two days, Clarke. Haven’t you had a single
moment to yourself?”
Lexa had to bite her lip. They had certainly heard Octavia’s calls – well, to them
they were just phone calls, the caller was unknown and unimportant – and they had
together opted to ignore them. The past two days they’d spent mostly in bed,
sleeping and cuddling and just enjoying one another. It had only been reasonable,
given that they were in their home, finally with down time and no worries
whatsoever – real life had seemed petty and unimportant when compared to the
prospect of spending the day in bed with one’s wife.
“We’ve been…I don’t know, O, we’ve just taken time for ourselves, you know?”
Octavia looked at Clarke, and studied her for a while before smiling. “Yeah, I get
you. But that whole…legal bullshit, that’s done with, right?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“So you’re married.”
“Yeah.”
“To her.”
“Her name’s Lexa.”
“I know it is, but I’m talking to you. I’m just making sure you realize what’s
going on, Clarke, because I could’ve sworn that just at my bachelorette party you
spent half an hour rambling about how marriage was a lie and that love didn’t
exist.”
“Really, now?” Lexa interjected, throwing Clarke a curious look. “How come I didn’t
hear about this the day _after_ said speech? Our wedding day?”
Octavia stared at Lexa, thoroughly surprised. “Wait. You married her during my
bachelorette party?”
And now Clarke gaped at Octavia in equal surprise. “You didn’t figure that out?”
“No, I thought you went to Vegas some time last month and married her. Holy shit,
Clarke, you got married before I got married!”
Lincoln laughed gently, and Lexa joined him; Clarke and Octavia stared at one
another, still shocked, and for a while, nobody spoke.
“You thought I went to Vegas and got married last month,” Clarke began, “How did
you think that?”
“Well, Clarke, from you all I got was ‘I accidentally married some woman named
Alexandria Woods’ and then nothing. All I’ve been going on have been snippets from
Raven, and I think she forgot to mention the date of your wedding. She just said
‘Vegas-wed rich girl and a hot piece of ass’ and then proceeded to send me plenty
of pictures to prove it.”
Lexa blushed then, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “Are you telling me Raven sent you
pictures of Lexa’s ass?”
“Mostly her face, yeah, but some of her…body, I guess you could say. Sorry about
that.” The last part she spoke to Lexa, who just shrugged.
“I guess it’s fine.”
“I deleted them, just so you know.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m going to kill Raven.”
“I think Anya’s already on that,” Lexa mused. “Apparently Raven broke into her
apartment last night to surprise her with pizza and beer when she came home from
the hospital. Anya didn’t exactly appreciate the breaking in part.”
Octavia and Lincoln laughed at that.
“Raven sure is an idiot,” Lincoln chuckled, “And this Anya sounds like someone who
can maybe get her idiocy under control.”
“Oh, yeah, Anya! Who is she and what is she doing with Raven?” Octavia asked.
“My best friend,” Lexa started.
“And Mom’s colleague at Doctors Without Borders,” Clarke added.
“Right. Yeah, well, she’s my best friend and she and Raven are kind of…dating, I
guess?” Lexa continued, throwing Clarke a smile.
“Dating?” Octavia looked confused and surprised.
Lexa looked to Clarke for help. “I don’t know how to explain those two.”
Her wife shook her head. “Like I’d know any better. I asked Raven about it and she
said, quote, “Anya’s a bitch and I like that, so I’m having fun.” But I think it’s
more than just ‘fun’.”
“She did break into her apartment with pizza and beer. That’s pretty commitment-y.”
Octavia pointed out. “And kind of adorable.”
“Anya’s…well, I don’t know about Anya, either. She’s just as cryptic as ever when
it comes to Raven. She’ll admit that Raven is annoying and infuriating and an
asshole and an idiot, but we’ve _seen_ them together.”
“And what do you mean by together?”
Clarke laughed. “Just about everything. Hand-holding, hugging, kissing, cuddling,

sleeping together-“
“Sleeping together?”
“Yeah.”
“As in sex?”
“As in sex and as in sleeping in the same bed.”
“Raven doesn’t do that.”
Now it was Lexa’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”
Octavia smiled. “Raven doesn’t share beds. She’ll have sex in one, yes, but once
they’re done she’ll either leave herself or kick them out. She certainly doesn’t
cuddle. She says it’s not her style.”
“Then clearly it’s her style now, because the last time we shared a hotel room with
them they slept together – no, spooned – on one single bed. The other bed was still
made the next morning. I have picture evidence, look.” Clarke said, pulling out her
phone. Both Lincoln and Octavia looked at the picture, and Clarke was pleased to
see the shocked looks on their faces.
“Fuck, Lexa, what kind of a best friend do you have? She’s _tamed_ Raven, for god's
sakes.”
“I don’t know. She’s kind of a cold-hearted bitch, so I’m as confused as you are.
But they seem to fit, with their asshole-ness and bitchiness and all,” Lexa
shrugged. “If you ask me, I’d say it’s adorable.”
“I second that,” Clarke said, “They’re adorable and it’s disgusting.”
The rest of the brunch went by easily as it could, and when the married couple
left, they were thoroughly happy about themselves and the day. Lexa was happy to
find Octavia soon considered her a friend, and was even happier to find that
Lincoln was good company as well – she had been nervous about meeting more of
Clarke’s friends, but thus far they had all been wonderfully kind and friendly to
her.
They walked across Central Park back to their home from the brunch. A light dusting
of snow lay over the trees and grass, and there were a lot of people enjoying the
snow while it lasted. The skies were clear and the sun was shining, and although
the sun may have been up it was still very cold. Clarke had her arm wrapped around
Lexa’s waist, and they walked perfectly in sync through the bare trees and open
space. They were in no rush whatsoever, and so their steps took them to winding
paths among the trees and through clearings they were yet to see. They stopped at
one of these, in the middle of which there was a group of children playing
football, and stood at the edge, looking at the scene before them.
“This is pretty great, right?” Clarke asked. Lexa sighed, and her breath billowed
out in a wispy cloud as she laid her head against Clarke’s shoulder.
“Yeah, it is.”
They were quiet again for a while.
“It’s cold.”
Lexa chuckled. “It’s good.”
“It’s nice.”
“It’s cold.”
> first one to figure out where the last four lines are from gets a cookie
> also who caught the number thing, if you didn't, go back and read again
> don't forget to leave a comment or kudos, they really do feed my vain, vain heart
> also come talk to me @clexy-polarbear on tumblr i really do adore hearing from
you guys
24. Chapter 24
> alright this is a long fucking chapter just so you know

> also just to clarify, the last four lines from the last chapter were indeed from
Imagine Me&You kudos to all of u who caught that
“Octavia, I need your help.”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line as Octavia sighed. “What is
it, Clarke?”
“I need your help.”
“Yes, I got that part. What did you do, destroy Lexa’s favorite mug?”
“No, but we’re leaving for Mom’s in two days and I don’t have a present for her
yet.”
“Clarke!”
“What? I’ve been trying, but I can’t think of _anything._ I asked Raven, but-“
“Oh, no, Raven’s ideas are crap. Don’t listen to Raven.”
“I know, which is why I called you.”
“Meet me at my place in half an hour. We’re going shopping.”
An hour later, Clarke found herself walking down a bustling shopping street in
Manhattan accompanied by an overly excited Octavia.
“Okay, so, what does she like?”
Clarke shrugged. “Lots of things. Hiking. Nature documentaries. Philosophy.”
“She’s a nature junkie?”
Yet again, Clarke shrugged. “I’m not so sure it goes that far.”
“Ok, something else. Is she a tea or coffee person?”
“Tea. She says coffee is bad for you.”
Octavia laughed. “Does she know you live off the stuff?”
“Yeah, she’s been buying me this organic coffee which she says the ‘least
unhealthy’ option. It tastes like dirt.”
“But you still drink it?”
“Yeah? She threatened to sleep on the couch if I refused to listen to her about the
potential lethality of coffee.” Clarke grumbled. “So yeah, I drink it.”
Octavia gave her a gentle nudge. “Marriage is about compromises, right? Here, let’s
go inside.”
They entered into a department store filled with brightly lit Christmas lights and
about a thousand people, and wandered around for at least half an hour before
Clarke came across something even remotely reasonable.
“O, look. Coffee flavored tea!"
Octavia stared at her for a brief moment before smiling. “It’s adorable, Clarke.
But you can’t get your _wife_ tea for Christmas.”
“Watch me.”
“I’m thinking you should buy her jewelry.”

“I already got her a ring.”
“So buy her earrings or a necklace. Something she can wear, and think of you.”
Clarke shook her head. “She’s not really a jewelry type.”
“Then I’m out of ideas.”
“I’m getting the tea,” Clarke told her. “I think I have an idea.”
“What?”
Clarke raised her eyebrows. “It’s a secret.”
“Clarke, I literally have no reason to tell anyone. Tell me.”
“A tattoo.”
“A tattoo? Are you out of your mind?”
“No, I’m not. She told me some weeks ago that she wanted a tattoo. I figured I
could design a few and give them to her and promise to pay for it and hold her hand
while she gets it done. That’s cute, right?”
“But a tattoo?”
“She was pretty adamant that she wanted one, but also that she didn’t know what to
get.”
“And you’re going to design something for her?”
“Yeah. It’s cute, right?”
“It’s weird, Clarke,” Octavia laughed, “But so is your entire relationship with
her.”
“Are you judging me? You banged Lincoln in a bathroom during his break, forgot his
name, met him three months later and then started dating and only realized you’d
met before like four months into dating. That’s weird if I’ve ever heard it.”
“Shut up, you got _married_ in Vegas and forgot about it.”
“But I remember now!”
“Still. It sounds like a bad comedy movie.”
“It’d make a great comedy movie, given the fact that Raven was involved.”
“True.”
“So we’re done, right? I’ll buy the tea and maybe a hoodie, since she’s always
stealing mine-“
“Clarke, you know she steals them because they’re yours. Buying her another one
won’t make a difference.”
“But she’s always wearing my favorite one.”
“Then buy yourself a new one and give her yours. You’re married, you can always
steal it back.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “And besides, it’s a family tradition.”
“Wait, what?”
“We wear hoodies on Christmas. Not ugly Christmas sweaters, but still something
comfy and warm. It’s a thing, don’t forget to tell Bellamy too or he’ll have to
wear one of Mom’s ones and I’m sure she’ll find him a pretty pink one if need be.”
And so she left the store with a brand new hoodie and coffee-flavored tea as well
as determination to come up with the best tattoo design for Lexa.
Had she and Octavia left the store just minutes later, they would have bumped into
a trio consisting of Lexa, Anya, and Raven, on their way inside. Lexa was in the
same predicament as Clarke was; she had no idea what to buy for her wife, and had
spent far too many hours trying to think of something reasonable. She had finally
budged and recruited Anya and Raven to help her find Clarke a Christmas gift.
“I’m still voting for the strap-on,” Raven declared as they wandered around in the
store, “It’s perfect.”
“Raven, shut up.” Anya groaned.
“What? Is it a bad gift? Cause then I have to go return your gif-“
Anya gave her a gentle shove. “Shut up, you idiot.”
Lexa watched them in amusement. “Are you two dating?”
“Nah.” Raven shook her head.
“No way,” Anya said quickly, causing Raven to whirl around in surprise.
“What do you mean no way? That's pretty harsh.”
“You’re an idiot, Raven.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
Anya dipped her head down and silenced Raven with a kiss, and then left her
standing in the aisle, thoroughly stunned. Lexa stood beside her, trying her best
to stifle her laughter as she waited for Raven to gather herself.
“Not dating, huh?” She asked when Raven finally turned to look at her with her
cheeks flushed.
She glared at her. “Shut up. I don’t know what she wants, and I don’t know what
we’re doing. But it’s fun.”
“Which is clearly evident in the fact that you bicker all the time.”
Raven sighed and hooked her arm with Lexa’s. “Come on, let’s go find Clarke the
perfect strap-on available.”
“Raven, I’m not getting Clarke a strap-on.”
“Why not? It’d be a gift for you, too.”

Lexa groaned. “I’m not getting her a strap-on. Period. End of discussion.”
“Where’d Anya go?”
“Probably to find a gift for Clarke that _isn’t_ a strap-on?”
Raven then stopped the two of them. “What do I get her?”
“Who, Anya?”
“No, the Queen of England. Yes, Anya.”
“You’re getting her a Christmas present and you’re _not_ dating?”
“Shut up, it’s complicated.”
“I asked you to come help me with Clarke’s gift.”
“So help me, quick. Before Anya gets back. Any ideas?”
“Her hands are always cold. Get her proper mittens. She’d never think to buy
something like that for herself.”
“Mittens?”
“What? You asked. Or you could buy her a nice bottle of whiskey. She likes that,
too.”
“And by nice you mean-“
“Not Jack Daniels, Raven.”
“Right.” Raven glanced to the side and saw Anya approaching. “Ok, thanks. You’re a
godsend. Mittens and whiskey.”
Anya walked up to them and raised her eyebrows when she saw the suspicious look on
Raven’s face. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Lexa asked me for sex advice.”
Lexa elbowed Raven in the ribs, perhaps a little too hard, and the brunette doubled
over, feigning intense pain. "Ow! Are you trying to kill me?"
“Shut up, Raven.”
Anya just laughed and grabbed Lexa’s hand. “Come on, I think I found something
good.”
“You guys go ahead, I’m just going to die here from internal bleeding and broken
ribs.” Raven called after them. Anya laughed, but they left her there anyway, and
the second they were out of sight Raven darted to the nearest info desk to ask
where she could find mittens.
Anya took Lexa up the stairs and into an art supplies section. “Go crazy.”
“Anya, I wouldn’t know what to pick. I already thought about getting her art
things, but I don't know anything about this stuff.” Lexa stammered, looking at the
shelves full of supplies half of which she did not recognize or know about.
“Besides, she does everything. How am I supposed to know what to choose?”
“Get her something fancier. What does she like to use the most?”
Lexa shrugged. “Acrylics, I guess. Or oil paints, but she’s running out.”
“Then buy her oil paints.”
“But I wouldn’t know what’s a good brand.”
Anya rolled her eyes and pushed Lexa forward. “Then ask that nice lady over there.”
The woman came over to them and flashed them a warm smile. “Is there anything I can
help you with?”
“Hi, yes, we’re looking for a Christmas present for her artist wife.” Anya said,
gesturing towards Lexa.
The woman, who was surely old enough to be Lexa’s grandma, turned her eyes to look
at her curiously. For a moment, Lexa feared she would impose judgement on her for
having a wife instead of a husband, and tensed up; but then she smiled, and Lexa
was confused.
“You look very young to be married. Newlyweds?”
“Married in February.” Lexa stammered.
“That’s sweet, so you’re almost to your first anniversary! My wife and I got
married three years ago, but we’ve been together for almost forty years. It’s so
nice that the times have changed.”
Lexa smiled. “Yes, it’s been quite a year.”
“Anyway, you said she was an artist?”
“Yeah.”
“Any specific style she prefers?”
“I’m not so sure…she likes to paint a lot. We just moved, so she hasn’t got so much
variety in her supplies.”
“Any price range?”
“The money’s not an issue.”
The sales lady raised her eyebrows, and Lexa nodded. “Really, it isn’t.”
“Painting, huh? Any preference there?”
“I’m not an artist myself, so I can’t really tell…”
“Bless you, my wife wouldn’t know what to get me either. Luckily you’ve got me to
help you.”
About half an hour later, Lexa left the store with a whole bunch of art supplies
and a significantly lighter wallet. She’d got Clarke an oil paint set, as well as
new pencils and a sketchbook and a few canvases, as well as some charcoal. She’d
figured Clarke would like them, and knew that they were a nice and personal gift.
Clarke had, after all, complained about not having enough paints and canvases, and
she had mentioned wanting to set up a studio in the third bedroom. Lexa had also
ordered an easel to be delivered to their apartment, and had arranged so that Anya
would be there to receive it after they’d left for Baltimore before she took off
for Long Island.
Anya had told Raven that she wasn’t coming to Abby’s despite having received an
invitation because of her duty to her parents, but left out the part about them
being homophobic assholes with whom she could barely spend an hour, let alone a
day. Lexa knew this, and had asked Abby if it was alright for Anya to come by in
case her parents became insufferable.
Of course Abby had said yes. Her exact words had been ‘the more the merrier’, and
in the case of the Griffin household, that was certainly true.
And so, early on the 22nd of December, Clarke and Lexa piled into Raven’s car and
they drove off down to Baltimore. They arrived just before seven in the morning to
catch Abby before she rushed off to her last shift before her vacation, and settled
themselves in the house. There was a Christmas tree waiting on the porch, yet to be
set up, and Clarke found a note on the dining room table with a to-do list ready
for them.
“Of course she’d do this,” Clarke laughed, waving the list at Lexa who lay on the
living room couch. “Come on, get up. Let’s get to work, there’s a lot to do.”
“Shush, I need my sleep.”
“You slept all the way here.”
“In a car. Doesn’t count.”
Clarke grinned devilishly and hopped over the couch’s back, half landing and half
climbing on top of Lexa, who let out a surprised cry at the sudden intrusion.
“Clarke, be careful! I literally just got my cast off, and I’m not going to have my
arm broken again.”
Clarke just chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Thank god for that. It smelled like old
cheese and sweaty socks.”
“Well, I’m sorry.”
“It’s gone now, though. No more stink.”
Lexa laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“Well, then you’re my idiot wife.”
“Rude.”
Raven walked into the living room then and let out a yelp, turning to face the
other direction, acting dramatic as ever. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex.”
Clarke sat up and laughed. “No, we’re not. I’m just trying to get Sleeping Beauty
over here to work.”
Raven turned around, saw the list, and groaned. “Mama Griffin’s making us do all
the chores again?”
“Christmas tradition.” Clarke nodded. She stood up and offered Lexa her hand. “Come
on, let’s get going. We need to go shopping, and that’s best done before everyone
else decides to head to the store and all hell breaks loose.”
* * *
They returned three hours later with an ungodly amount of food, all of which had
been on Abby’s foot-long list; there was, of course, a great number of other foods
as well, namely chocolates and other junk food which Abby had conveniently left out
of her own list. After putting all the groceries away, Clarke allocated different
jobs to different people; Raven was put on Christmas lights duty, and Lexa’s job
was to make sure she didn’t kill herself while doing it. She herself begrudgingly
headed up to the attic to retrieve the boxes of Christmas decorations and bedsheets
and duvets and pillows for the people who were to be staying in the house. It was a
more complicated task than what one would think; the attic was full of old things
that Clarke knew should have been thrown out years ago, but most of it was from her
own childhood and she knew very well that it would be a cold day in hell when her
mother agreed to let go of them. And so she spent a good hour maneuvering the three
boxes full of Christmas decorations through the maze of boxes and old bikes and
books and comic books, and then rummaging through the linen closet in the corner.
Of course, it took her a while to actually get to doing all the work, because she
got distracted by the books and pictures and things in the boxes. She’d seen them
many times over, but each year she returned and somehow found herself spending time
going through them again.
This time, however, she came across a diary of hers from second grade, and
mindlessly flipped through the pages filled with scribbled notes and pictures which
she already knew and recognized. But then she turned the page, and was faced with a
polaroid picture of herself, clad in a white little dress and a veil made from a
white plastic bag, smiling brighter than the sun with a bunch of daisies in her
hands. Next to the picture, which was glued down with Barbie stickers, there was a
note which took Clarke a while to decipher.
“I can’t wait to get married” Next to the caption there was a whole load of pink
and red hearts, drawn by hand, and Clarke cringed slightly at the sight.
She stared at the page, with no recollection of the picture whatsoever, and found
herself surprised to say the least. She couldn’t have been older than 8 in the
picture – no, it was before she turned 9, because she’d gotten her ears pierced for
her birthday and in the picture she was yet to have any piercings. The smile on her
face was so bright, and Clarke knew that the picture had been taken by her mother
from the shadow that was cast onto the grass beside her. Even so, she was drawing a
blank when trying to place just when it had been taken.
_Oh, little me_ , Clarke thought to herself, _you were right to be excited. This
is pretty great._
When she made her way downstairs and out to the lawn about ten minutes later, she
came to a very peculiar scene. Lexa was standing and laughing at the base of a
ladder, peering up, while Raven stood on them with one foot in the air and a hand
waving her middle finger at the skies.
“Raven, what the fuck are you doing?” Clarke cried. “You’re going to fall and die!”
“There’s a crow from hell which keeps trying to kill me!”
“And waving your middle finger at it is supposed to help?”
Raven stopped and frowned. “Can you get rid of the crow?”
“Don’t you remember? We had this same problem last year. Just hold on.”
Clarke grabbed a broom from the porch and went over to the oak tree on the lawn,
where the crow’s nest was. She poked at it a score of two times before the crow
returned from where it’d been perched on the chimney, and settled itself into the
nest while glaring at her with it’s beady black eyes.
“There, all fixed.” Clarke called. “You’re almost finished, anyway.”
There were lights strung up along the roof’s edge and around the porch, as well as
above the garage door and around the front bushes. Raven set up the last line of
lights before hopping down and dusting her hands off on her pants.
“There we go. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
Clarke and Lexa walked further away to watch as Raven went to put the lights on. It
was still morning, and so they could barely see the lights in the daylight, but
nevertheless, it was easy to imagine what the house would look like once it got
dark.
“So, Lexa, are you excited for your first Griffin Christmas?” Clarke asked as they
walked back to the house.
“I don’t know what to expect.”
“But you’re excited?”
“Considering my past Christmases’ have consisted of an awkward family dinner and no

gifts whatsoever, I’d say yes.”
“Well, Lexa, you best be prepared. We have a lot of traditions.”
“Like what?”
Clarke dragged her to the living room, where she pulled out a large package. “Here.
An early Christmas present.”
Lexa unwrapped the gift carefully to reveal a blue hoodie with a white Nevada
Wolfpack logo on it, and looked at Clarke in surprise. “A hoodie?”
“Don’t judge me for the logo, Nevada hasn’t really got lot going on in the sports
department. I had to google to find that one.”
“And why are you giving me a hoodie now?”
“Because it’s our family tradition to wear a hoodie on Christmas. That, and wool
socks, but Mom’s got like 20 pairs in a box downstairs so you can just go pick from
there. I figured you'd need one, seeing as you don't own any hoodies of your own.”
Lexa put the wrapping paper down and admired the hoodie, noticing a few small green
and pink stains on it’s sleeve. “Have you worn this?”
“Why do you ask?”

“There’s paint on the sleeve.”
Clarke blushed slightly. “I mean, yeah. I wore it.”
“That’s kind of weird, considering it was supposed to be a gift.”
“Octavia said the reason people wear other peoples’ hoodies is because it smells
like them. So I figured I’d wear this one and make it smell like me before giving
it to you.”
Lexa laughed and pulled her close for a kiss. “That’s cute. And weird.”
“But cute?”
“Yes, Clarke, it’s cute.”
“I’d steal your hoodie but you don’t own any.”
“I’ve been meaning to buy one. My parents disapproved of what they considered lower
classes’ clothes, and so hoodies, sweatpants, and much like that were off limits.”
“But you have a zipup hoodie?”
“That one was technically a running jacket,” Lexa smirked. “But I love this. It’s
sweet.”
“And I picked Nevada ‘cause that’s where we got married.”
“Yes, Clarke, I figured that much.”
“Put it on.”
“I’m wearing a sweater.”
“Then take the sweater off,” Clarke chuckled, tugging at the hem of Lexa’s shirt.
“I want to see you in the hoodie.”
Lexa shook her head and laughed. “I’m going to change anyway, jeans and a sweater
were a bad choice. Is it ok if I just wear leggings and the hoodie?”
“That’s what I was planning on wearing. And don’t forget the socks.”
“Can you bring me a pair that somewhat matches this?” Lexa asked as she ran up the
stairs. Clarke laughed and made her way to the living room, where she picked out
two matching pairs of woolen socks for her and her wife.
She was on her way up the stairs when the doorbell rang. She knew it couldn’t be
her mom, seeing as her shift was due to end around 3 in the morning; sure enough,
when she opened the door, she was greeted by Octavia and Lincoln, and a little
while later in walked Bellamy. Everyone was smiling brightly, and after everyone’s
coats were settled away, Clarke sent them into the living room with Raven with the
intent of sneaking upstairs to change.
She stepped into her room to find Lexa laying on the bed in nothing but her
underwear, lazily drawing circles into the air as she stared at the ceiling.
“Octavia and the others are here,” she said as she walked over to the bed. “What
are you doing?”
Lexa looked at her and smiled. “I don’t really have a pre-Christmas gift for you.”
“That’s fine, Lexa.”
But then Lexa sat up and slid her slender arms around Clarke’s waist, pulling her
close to her. “But I can give you _something,_ if you want.” She pushed Clarke’s
shirt upwards and pressed a kiss onto her stomach, just above the waistband of her
sweats, and Clarke drew in a sharp breath.
“Now? With everyone downstairs?”
“It’s not like they’re going to come looking for us, are they?” Lexa asked. “Come
on, Clarke, you look so sexy in your oversized sweatpants and old camp t-shirt and
messy hair.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “You know I really don’t.”
“Yes, you really do.” Lexa murmured. She pulled Clarke into her lap, and pulled her
shirt over her head, tossing it to the side in the process. “Besides, does it
really matter what you wear if you’re going to be taking it off anyway?”
Clarke laughed then and pushed Lexa down onto the bed, climbing onto her and
leaning down to kiss her full on the mouth. She was smiling, as was Lexa, and the
sunlight glinted through the window in a way that made the room and the whole
moment seem like a dream.
"Merry Christmas, Clarke." Lexa whispered as her hand slid downwards to give her
the best gift Clarke could have asked for.
* * *
“Where’d Clarke go?”
Octavia, Lincoln, Raven and Bellamy sat in the living room, waiting for Clarke, but
it had been almost half an hour and she was yet to come down. Bellamy was
especially impatient, while the others seemed more lax. There had been light
conversation, but that had been interrupted when Bellamy had spoken up.
“I dunno.” Raven shrugged. “Might have something to do with the fact that Lexa’s
upstairs, too.”
“Lexa?”
“Her wife?”
Bellamy took a few split seconds before remembering. “Right, yeah. Forgot.”
“You haven’t met her yet, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. What’s she like?”
“Funny. Cute. Headstrong and stubborn, and kinda scary when she gets pissed, and
she really fits with Clarke. Oh, and she’s pretty darn smart too,” Raven told him.
“You don’t want to cross her, she’s a fuckin’ Harvard Law graduate.”
Bellamy nodded. “And how did this go again? They got married in Vegas?”
“During my bachelorette party, yeah.” Octavia said. “And then she forgot about it
because she was so drunk, and then Lexa got into a car accident about a month or so
ago and the hospital called Clarke, and the whole mess began.”
Bellamy let out a whistle. “That’s…insane. And you’re all…cool with it?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Raven asked. She threw him a pointed glance, and studied his
reaction carefully. When he shrugged and offered them a shy smile, she still
thought she detected some hint of anger or hurt in his composure.
She made a mental note to confront him about it later.
“Nothing, it’s just weird. I thought Clarke hated marriage.”
“So did we all. But life works in mysterious ways,” Lincoln said, “And Clarke
clearly got the best of the ‘mysterious’ part.”
They heard the door opening upstairs, and then two sets of footsteps walking down
the stairs and approaching the living room. Bellamy turned in his seat to see the
doorway, and when Clarke walked in, followed by a slender brunette, he felt a
twinge in his heart which he failed to fathom. Up until then, this ‘wife’ had just
been a concept, a word in his mind – but now she was real, standing before him,
staring at him with her green eyes full of curiosity and amusement, and he didn’t
know what to do.
“Hi, I’m Lexa. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Bellamy took the hand she was offering and shook it slightly. “I’m Bellamy.
Octavia’s si- I mean brother. Octavia’s my sister,” he stammered. There was
something unsettling about the brunette, although her overall countenance came
across as composed and extremely kind.
“Aww, you’re wearing the hoodie Clarke bought!” Octavia cried then, and everyone’s
attention fixed on Lexa and her hoodie and not on Bellamy’s blatant awkwardness.
“Yeah, isn’t it adorable?” Clarke asked, wrapping an arm around Lexa’s waist and
grinning widely. “Totally didn’t waste that hour searching for the right one, it’s
near perfect.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“That’s the whole point of family holidays, Lexa. We all embarrass one another.
Just wait until we start playing board games. That’s when the truth about everyone
comes out.”
“Yeah! Board games! When do we start?” Raven cried out enthusiastically. “I am _so_
ready to whoop all your asses in Monopoly-“
“Raven, the tree’s still not done. And we have to set up the beds, and there’s some
dishes to do, and-“
“Got it, got it, work first, play later.” Raven laughed. “I call dibs on tree
duty!”
“I do too.” Lexa interjected.

“I do three,” Clarke laughed, eyeing the remaining three on the couch. “So that
leaves one for setting up the beds and two for polishing and washing the dishes-“
“Beds.” Octavia said quickly. “Sorry, Lincoln, but I am not doing dishes this
year.”
Her husband let out a gentle laugh. “I guess that leaves me and you, Bell.” They
got up then and headed into the kitchen, and Octavia left soon as well after
receiving her instructions from Clarke.
“Alright.” Clarke said, her hands placed on her hips as she stared at the still
wrapped Christmas tree that rested against the living room wall. “Who wants to
unwrap it?”
Once the tree had been successfully set up next to the fireplace, the girls fetched
the three boxes of Christmas decorations from upstairs and set them down around it.
Raven was given the honor of putting the lights on first, and when that was done,
they were ready for the actual decorating.
“You know, Clarke, I’ve never done this before.”
“What, decorate a Christmas tree?”
Lexa nodded, and Clarke looked at her in astonishment. “You’re kidding.”
“No, our maids always set up the tree. It was a decoration and not to be played
with.”
“Shit, you lived with the Grinch,” Raven blurted out. “But then I think you should
have the honor of putting up the star.”
“Yes, of course she will, but that goes up last.”
“No, it goes up first.”
“Raven, I don’t know what your family does but here, we put the damn star on last.
It’s like the cherry on the top.”
“I actually put lots of cherries on the bottom before making my sundae.”
“Oh shut up.” Clarke laughed, throwing a plastic bauble at Raven, who caught it
with ease and stuck her tongue at her. She then handed another to Lexa and smiled.
“Go on. Put the first one on.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you’d like.”
Lexa felt awfully scrutinized as she went over and hung the bauble on the nearest
branch she could find. She wasn’t sure she was doing it right, but when she turned
to look at Clarke for reassurance, her wife just laughed and rolled her eyes.
“Lexa, it’s just one decoration. It’s fine. Come on, we’ve got to fill the whole
tree.”
It took them over an hour to finally get to the point where they felt like they
were done. Raven had spent a good while trying to figure out Abby’s dated cd
player, but had finally managed to get a Classic Christmas CD playing. Although
‘White Christmas’ played way too many times for anyone to deal with it, the mood in
the house was festive and merry; Clarke was practically skipping around, placing
decorations wherever she felt was right, and Lexa couldn’t help but feel as happy
as she did. The tree was filled with mismatching decorations, some new, some old,
but all of them somehow ended up looking better than any of the perfectly aligned
and designed Christmas trees of Lexa’s past.
She was about to put one last bauble onto the tree when she saw it was painted.
Pausing what she was doing, she turned the ball in her hands to find a tiny
handprint pressed onto it with bright blue paint, and Clarke’s name scrawled in
glitter pen beneath it.
“Clarke, I think you’ve made this.”
Clarke hopped over and looked at the bauble over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I made
that in kindergarten. Mom always insists on putting it up high so it’s visible.”
Lexa traced her finger over the tiny handprint, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
“Your hand was so tiny.”
“I was like what, 5?”
“Adorable.”
“I can show you pictures, if you want.” Clarke offered. “Or, actually, I’ll rather
that I show you pictures than that Mom starts, because she’ll tell you every
embarrassing story and I’ll never be able to face you ever again.”
“That’d be tragic, considering we share a bed.” Lexa mused. “But I’m holding you to
that. I want to see adorable baby you.”
“Oh, god, stop being so sappy and put the damn bauble in the tree so that we can
finally finish this up and get playing board games!” Raven groaned.
Clarke laughed and took the bauble from Lexa, rising to her toes to hang the ball
from the highest branch that she could reach.
“Alright, Lexa. Time for the big finish.”
She brought up a stool and held Lexa’s waist(though there was no real need to) as
Lexa reached up and put the golden star at the top of the tree. When she was done,
Lexa hopped down and into Clarke’s arms, and Clarke couldn’t resist capturing her
lips for a joyous kiss.
“You two are gross,” Raven commented from her place from the couch. “But stay
there, keep kissing, I’m trying to take a picture.”
Clarke laughed and moved Lexa closer to the tree, and dipped her downwards slightly
as she kissed her again. She heard the click of the camera, and raised Lexa upright
again to look at Raven.
“Well?”
Raven took out the polaroid picture and set it on the table. “Wait. Be patient.”
“Aren’t you supposed to shake it?”
“No, that’s bad for the picture. Just be patient.”
Lexa hummed and played with the strings of Clarke’s hoodie. “You know, we’ve got
some down time…”
Clarke glanced at Raven. “How’s everyone else? Getting done soon?”
“Bell’s napping in his van, and Lincoln and O are taking a walk. So yes, you two do
indeed have time to abandon me to bang your brains away.”
“Thanks, Raven. We’ll be down in half an hour for whichever game you want to play,
ok?"
> the fluff has killed me and i love them all they are my babies
> im kind of on the edge with bellamy but we'll see what happens with him
> kids, don't forget to leave kudos and comments, they truly do make my day :)
25. Chapter 25
> one of you asked for smut, so smut you shall get because i am a good and kind
author who certainly deserves all the kudos and comments that you could give
> prepare yourselves, this is sort of an emotional rollercoaster
Abby entered her house around half past 3 in the morning and walked straight into a
raucous, drunken game of Jenga. The whole house smelled strongly of mulled wine and
spices, and there was a happy fire crackling in the fireplace. A bag of
marshmallows lay on the floor nearby, as did a platter that had most likely once
held graham crackers and chocolate pieces. Clarke and her friends were gathered
around the coffee table, all of them watching intently as Lincoln attempted to
maneuver a piece out of the tower.
She stood in the living room doorway for almost a minute before the group finally
realized her presence.
“Hi, Abby!” Raven cried, waving enthusiastically.
“Hi, kids. I see you started celebrating without me.”
Clarke walked over to her mother, cheeks slightly pink from both embarrassment and
the alcohol. “We’re not really drunk, Mom, we’re just playing Jenga. I hope that’s
ok.”
“At 3 in the morning?”
“It’s very intense.”
Abby laughed. “It’s fine, Clarke. Just try to keep it down, ok? And do try to get
some sleep, we’ll be headed for the cemetery tomorrow afternoon.”
Clarke nodded. “I know.”
“Oh, and don't you dare wake me before noon unless someone is literally dying. I
had the worst shift.”
“Got it, mom.”
Abby threw her one last smirk and walked up the stairs, leaving the living room to
the ‘kids’. Clarke hopped back onto her seat on the couch, with Lexa seated behind
her so that her legs were on both her sides. She leaned back into Lexa’s body, and
sighed contently as she felt the warmth and was surrounded by the faintly sweet and
fresh scent that seemed to shroud Lexa at all times.
“You guys wanna play something other than Jenga?” Clarke asked.
“Shh, wait.” Octavia snapped. She was halfway through trying to take a piece out
from the very bottom, and her tongue stuck out of her mouth just slightly as she
concentrated on keeping her hands steady. But she was drunk, and so her attempt
failed, sending the tower of wooden blocks clattering along the table and the
floor.
“Yeah, guys. Let’s play Monopoly or something, Mom won’t like the racket.”
They gathered the game away and began setting up for a game of Monopoly. Bellamy
yawned widely when they were passing around the pieces, making almost a show of how
tired he was.
“I think I’m going to bed.”
“What, now? But we’re just starting the game.” Octavia asked, perplexed. “Surely
you want to play?”
“I drove all the way from Texas."
"But it's Christmas."
"I'm really tired."
Octavia stared at him for a while, not believing what she was hearing. Bellamy
never turned down an opportunity to whoop Raven's ass in a game, let alone Monopoly
- he was the only one who really stood a chance against her. And yet, there he was,
pretending to be tired and looking like he couldn't wait to get out of the room.
"Ok, fine. Good night."
The annoyance in her voice was not just caught by her husband; everyone in the room
heard it, even Lexa, who barely knew her - Octavia was just slightly off from
pissed, and she wondered what was going on. It all seemed so confusing - she
couldn't place Bellamy, couldn't figure him out, he seemed jumpy and shifty and she
couldn't fathom why or how Clarke could consider him a friend.
"Good night.”
With that, Bellamy stood up, offered Clarke an apologetic smile, and walked out of
the room. There was a moment of silence, which was ended when Octavia scoffed and
said: “What a wuss. I’ve been up for like what, 30 hours? And I’m fine.”
"Maybe there's something going on," Clarke wondered aloud. "He seems stressed."
“Ok, good. Let’s play!" Raven interrupted. She had a hunch about what was going on,
but was not about to let that ruin Christmas for everyone. She'd go have a real
talk with Bellamy later.
“Clarke.”
Clarke jumped when she felt Lexa’s lips graze her neck and her voice quiet in her
ear. Her arms were tight around her waist, and the brunette’s head rested on her
shoulder, her breaths steadily warming a patch of her skin just above her clavicle.
“Yeah?”
“I’m tired.”
Lexa's voice was thick with drowsiness, and Clarke couldn't help the smile that
spread onto her lips.
“Do you want to go to bed?”
Lexa sighed and burrowed her face into Clarke’s neck. “No. I'm comfortable like
this.” To emphasize her point, Lexa pulled Clarke even closer to herself, and
Clarke couldn’t help but laugh gently.
“Fair enough. We’ll play as a team then. You can nap if you need to.”
“Do the doggy.” Lexa mumbled.
“What?” Clarke asked, a little louder than she'd liked.
“The token, Clarke. Take the dog.”
Lincoln then handed Clarke the bag of game pieces, and Clarke picked out the tiny
pewter dog. “This one?”
“Yes, that one.”
“Isn’t Lexa playing?” Raven asked, eyeing the two of them curiously.
“We’re playing as a joint effort.”
“That’s cheating.”
“She’s sleepy,” Clarke told her, “And besides, we’re married. Package deal.”
Raven rolled her eyes, and Octavia laughed. “You two are so gross.”
But they played anyway. Lexa kept dozing off, and Clarke couldn’t help but find her
tiny sleepy whimpers and sighs lethally adorable; Lexa held Clarke tight against
her, as though she feared she’d leave if she let go, and Clarke could practically
feel her heart beat steadily in her chest which was pressed up against her back.
Her head rested on it’s side on Clarke’s shoulder, and her warm breaths tickled the
sensitive skin of her neck in ways which sometimes made Clarke shudder.
She’d just landed herself in jail for the fifth time when she was surprised by hot
lips pressing lazily against her neck, and in her surprise she let out a tiny gasp,
drawing everyone else’s attention.
“Everything okay, prison scum?” Raven smirked, cheeks flushed red from all the
mulled wine she'd drank. She was winning, of course – the pile of money before her
towered over everyone else’s, and most of the properties on the board were hers.
Clarke nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Lexa just tickled me, is all.”
She heard Lexa hum quietly, and turned her face to look at her. “Don’t kiss my
neck, Lexa, not when we’re not alone.” She whispered the words to Lexa as quietly
as she could, not wanting anyone else to hear their exchange.
In response, she received another kiss, this time to her clavicle.

“Lexa-“
“But it’s right there,” Lexa murmured, “And so smooth and kissable. Literally not
an inch from my lips.”
“The game’s almost over anyway. Don’t torment me.”
Lexa chuckled, and Clarke immediately regretted saying that; not a moment later,
she felt Lexa’s hips grind into her back, and a hand slid just slightly upwards to
graze along her breast for a fleeting moment. Clarke bit her tongue as yet another
kiss was pressed to her neck, and forced herself to concentrate on the game despite
the growing warmth in between her thighs.
She lost gloriously, but that did not matter; not even Raven’s endless gloating
could phase her when Lexa was tugging at her hand, trying to get her to come
upstairs with her, an excited look held within the drowsiness of her eyes.
“Night, guys.”
She allowed Lexa to lead her up the stairs and to the bedroom, expecting her to
lead her to the bed; but instead, Lexa pushed her up against the door of her room,
shutting it and locking it with one hand while the other pressed Clarke’s waist
tightly against the door and dug into her soft skin. Gone was her sleepiness,
replaced by a hunger which Clarke was all too eager to satisfy. Lexa tasted of
mulled wine and cinnamon, and Clarke felt her head swimming with both the slight
tipsiness and the sheer lust and love that overwhelmed her whole being in that
instant.
“You’re very needy today,” Clarke murmured as Lexa moved away from her lips to kiss
along her neck. “Not that I’m complaining.”
Lexa’s teeth bit into her skin, and Clarke gasped as a shiver ran through her
spine. “Ah, fuck.”
“You’re just so cute and adorable and beautiful and sexy that I can’t _not_ want
you. I need to have you.” That was Lexa’s answer, and Clarke smiled. But her smile
was wiped from her face when Lexa knelt before her and pulled her leggings and
underwear down, effectively baring her completely. The cool air rushed at Clarke’s
skin, but she did not notice the goosebumps that arose along her legs; no, all she
noticed was the taunting look in Lexa’s eyes as she pressed her mouth in between
her thighs. A moan escaped her lips, and she rested her head back against the door
and allowed Lexa’s mouth to make her forget about everything else.
She did not care that anyone who held their ear to the door would've been able to
listen in. Truthfully, she didn't really sense anything other than Lexa's tongue
and fingers and the pleasure that they provided her, and the fact that Lexa's eyes
were fixed on her, fixed on her eyes and her face - it was all so much, all so
pleasurable, that Clarke couldn't help but whimper and moan as Lexa coaxed her
to the edge not minutes later. By this point, her hands were in Lexa's hair,
fisting the brown locks tightly as she slowly grinded against Lexa's mouth.
Lexa's fingers were deep inside her, curling and pressing at her most sensitive
places, and when she finally came, the moan that emerged from her throat was all
too loud for her liking. But she couldn't help it, not when her wife was fucking
her like this; she had no control over her reactions, not in that moment of pure
and unbridled pleasure.
With shaky legs, she led Lexa to the bed, where she roughly pushed her down and
climbed on top of her.
"If we woke up my Mom, it's your fault." She grumbled as she pulled Lexa's hoodie
over her head.
"My fault? I didn't ask you to moan that loudly."
"You caused the moans," Clarke murmured, her lips trailing kisses down along Lexa's
bare ribs and stomach, "And I'm not about to have you do the same. Bite into a
pillow or something."
"Or what, you'll punish me?"
Clarke smirked at Lexa. "Perhaps. We'll see."
Lexa groaned, the arousal rising to insufferable heights as Clarke's mouth trailed
kisses along her hips and down towards where her center was pulsing with heat and
need and _want_ for her lips and tongue. Clarke's hands spread her legs,
determinedly and facing no resistance from her whatsoever, and Lexa bit into the
pillow in her hands to silence her moans and whimpers which she could not keep at
bay as Clarke buried her face between her legs. She couldn't understand why she was
so wanting on that day, only that she had been burning for Clarke since morning and
that want had not subsided or been satisfied, despite the fact that they had
already had sex four times just that day alone.
She simply couldn't get enough of her wife.
* * *
Everyone in the house slept soundly till noon. Octavia was the first one up, and
together with Lincoln she whipped up some sort of breakfast before running upstairs
and to drag Clarke and Lexa out of bed. She hadn’t bothered to knock, and so walked
in to find the two of them fast asleep on the bed in minimal clothing; but, like
Raven, Octavia had seen Clarke in little to nothing one too many times, and thus
was not phased by the sight. If anything, it made her happy, seeing Clarke so
comfortable in her wife’s arms.
“Come on, sleepyheads, breakfast is on the table.”
Clarke groaned as she woke up, and loosened her hold of Lexa’s waist just slightly
to sit up and peer at Octavia.
“O, you’re lucky the duvet’s covering us.”
“Why, you naked or something?”
“Yes?”
“Well, then don’t get up until I’ve left. I just figured you’d rather have me
waking you up than your Mom.”
Clarke groaned again. “Fine. We’ll be down in a sec.”
Octavia smiled and left them. Clarke then turned to look at Lexa, who was still
sound asleep. She had been spooning her, held tightly in her arms, and the brunette
had felt perfect against her own body. There was a gentle, sleepy smile on
Lexa's lips, and Clarke now leaned in to kiss them, softly as she could. She didn’t
care that she had morning breath, or that Lexa did too; this was her wife, and she
was going to kiss her awake.
Doing that turned out to be a more challenging feat than what Clarke had
anticipated. It took a far rougher kiss to finally draw her out of her sleep, and
Lexa grinned widely when she realized Clarke’s lips were on hers.
“Good morning.”
Lexa didn’t answer, only kissed her again, lazily and slowly because she was still
half asleep and drowsy. She was comfortably warm, her naked body enveloped by
Clarke’s, and the heat that coursed through her veins was causing her to feel drunk
and too happy for it to be real.
“Come on, let’s go get breakfast.”
“What's the rush?”
Clarke made a face. “We've kinda got plans. Or I do, really. It's up to you if you
want to come along.”
“What?”
“Every Christmas we go visit my dad’s grave. We’re going today. You’re welcome to
come, if you want.”
“Only if you want me to come, Clarke. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding, you’re my wife. I know it’s not very rational, but I
feel like if I take you to see his grave he’ll kinda see you, you know?”
Lexa saw that Clarke’s face was flushed, and leaned in to kiss her gently. “It’s
totally rational, Clarke. Who’s not to say he’s not watching you right now?”
Clarke’s eyes flickered to their currently naked forms. “God, I hope not.”
Lexa laughed gently, and Clarke joined her. “So you’re cool with going to the
cemetery? It’s not really festive, or anything, but-“
“Clarke, don’t worry. I’m more than happy to go and meet my father-in-law.”
They got up a moment later, and put on their hoodies again.
“Is this really what we’ll be wearing all of Christmas?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, it is.”
“What if it get’s smelly?”
“Then you wash it, idiot. But it’s a tradition.”
“I like it. But my hoodie doesn’t really smell much like you anymore.”
Clarke walked up to her and hugged her tightly, rubbing her face against Lexa’s
shoulder. “There. Better?”
Lexa just chuckled and shook her head. “You’re an idiot sometimes.”
“But a cute idiot, right?”

* * *
The mood in the car on their way to the cemetery was solemn but not sorrowed; it
was quiet, and none dared to speak, but the silence was more comforting than
awkward. When they arrived at the cemetery, the silence continued, and Lexa walked
slowly beside Clarke, hand-in-hand, towards the grave which stood at the side of a
hill. There was a maple tree that stretched out over it, which Lexa imagined
provided ample shade during the summer. Only Abby and Clarke had gone, and Lexa too
- the rest had no business there, not really, since this was Clarke's father's and
Abby's husband's grave.
And Lexa's father-in-law's.
The gravestone itself was simple yet beautiful; made of black granite, it read
“Jake Griffin” in golden letters, beneath which there was the date of his birth and
his death. There was also a quote: “May we meet again," scrawled in fine cursive.
“That’s the last thing he said to us,” Clarke explained quietly to Lexa. “He wanted
it on his gravestone.”
Lexa heard now that Clarke’s voice was breaking, and glanced at her to see her eyes
were brimming with tears; she felt a weight fall on her own chest, the pain of her
wife bringing pain to her as well. Gently as she could, she squeezed Clarke’s hand
and smiled, but said nothing; the moment felt intimate, and she was determined not
to intrude or break the silence.
Clarke let out a shaky breath. She was hurting, and she knew the actual hurt would
never subside; she had accepted this, and grown to live with it, but even so, it
was these visits at Christmas that always brought her to tears. A tear slipped down
her cheek, and she rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder as she quietly let the tears
fall. She wasn’t hurting because her father was dead; no, she was hurting because
she missed him, because she wanted him to be there and see how happy she was with
Lexa – she wished he could have met her, could have seen how kind and beautiful and
amazing she was – but the reality was harsh, and that wish was never to be
fulfilled.
Abby looked at her daughter and smiled softly through her own tears. Carefully as
one could, she wrapped an arm around Clarke’s shoulders, and so the three of them
stood there, silent and teary and feeling the weight of yearning in their chests.
Lexa had only seen a few pictures of Clarke’s father, so picturing him now was even
more challenging; but she did so anyhow, and tried to imagine what it would be like
to meet him. She figured he would have been protective of Clarke, but ultimately
kind and funny like his daughter. Clarke had inherited his eyes, that much Lexa
knew, and she tried her best to picture them looking at her, laughter brimming
within the blue, as they spoke of some casual everyday thing.
But he was gone, long gone. And Clarke missed him so much it hurt her, so much that
she cried when visiting his grave; Lexa hadn't seen her cry before, and it made her
feel a multitude of things. Most of all, she felt helpless - she wanted to stop
Clarke from hurting, to make her happy again, but she knew she could not do that.
And so Lexa stood there, leaning her head against Clarke’s, her hand holding
Clarke’s tightly and reassuringly as the blonde continued to cry almost silently.
She felt a few odd hot tears fall onto her hand, and turned her head to press a
gentle kiss onto the top of Clarke’s head. When she did so, she met Abby’s eyes,
and saw that they were full of tears as well. But the woman was smiling, beaming
even, and Lexa quickly realized it was because she was looking at her and Clarke.
Abby mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Lexa, and Lexa felt both awkward and confused;
she was only doing what she felt was right, but clearly, Abby saw it as a kind
gesture and Lexa then realized that her presence was necessary to Clarke. She
hadn't seen it before, but now, with Clarke leaning against her and crying quietly,
she saw that she was leaning on her both literally and figuratively.
And she was more than willing to support her and allow her to lean on her.
It was a long while before Clarke's sobs subsided and she was able to wipe her eyes
dry from the tears. She couldn’t meet Lexa’s eyes, and Lexa understood; she was
vulnerable, and wanted her own space, and Lexa was perfectly happy giving it to
her.
Clarke knelt before the grave then, and together with her mother she cleaned the
gravestone of any odd branches and leaves before setting the flowers before it.
“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Clarke murmured, her fingers resting atop the golden
letters on the cold stone.
_I miss you._
Abby smiled and whispered a greeting as well. “Merry Christmas, Jake.”
Clarke then lit a candle in the lantern hanging beside the stone, and gave the
stone one lingering touch before standing up and walking over to take Lexa’s hand
again. She needed that contact, that warmth, to keep herself grounded – it was so
incredibly comforting that it almost hurt, but Clarke did not mind that at all.
Lexa made the pain of her father’s death that much more bearable, and Clarke
relished that feeling. She felt like she could breathe, despite the hurt and pain
in her heart; Lexa reminded her that life wasn't just an ending, but also
beginnings. Lexa reminded her that not all tears were from sorrow, but that they
could also come from pure joy - and the amount of happy tears which Clarke had shed
for Lexa easily made up for any sorrow she was feeling.
The whole way back to the house they were silent, but on the porch Lexa was stopped
by Clarke. She looked at her wife, noting how her cheeks were flushed and how her
eyes were still red from crying, and how she still managed to take her breath away
– but she also saw a smile on her lips, and that made Lexa happier than anything.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming with us.”
Lexa leaned in and kissed Clarke’s lips gently. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the
world.”
Clarke’s smile widened, and any residual sorrow within her heart passed over for
joy and excitement for the days to come.
It was almost Christmas, after all.

> HOW GREAT WAS THAT
> and yes, christmas is coming in the next chapter, and a well-loved character is
making a delightful reappearance
> once again, i'm going to shamelessly advertise my tumblr @clexy-polarbear, come
say hi or leave me prompts or yell at me abt my fics anything goes
26. Chapter 26
> i stg christmas is going to end up lasting like 5 chapters or something lmao
> but there's so much cuteness to write that i just can't help myself
Christmas Eve in the Griffin household consisted of two things; food and cleaning.
Abby had dragged them all out of bed at dawn, and none of them had been happy about
it, especially when some of them had received vacuuming, dusting or polishing
duties not minutes after crawling out of the sweet warmth of their bed. Bellamy was
sent outside to chop up some firewood, because Abby liked to keep a fire going
throughout the day because it was festive and because her house had a tendency to
get chilly in the winter. Once he was done, he was to clean up the yard to make it
look neat and ready for Christmas, whatever that may have meant. Lincoln was
assigned the job of vacuuming the house, while Octavia followed behind him mopping
the floors; Raven’s duty was to dust every corner of the house, every small
trinket(there were thousands) and book and painting, and she did this while
listening to music and dancing around and looking absolutely idiotic but also so
very Raven-like.
Abby sent Clarke out on some last-minute errands, and Lexa she reserved for kitchen
duty, which mainly consisted of decorating the dozens and dozens of cookies which
she had baked, leaving her the time she wanted to really get to know her daughter-
in-law.
“Here. Just do whatever you like with them, it doesn’t matter if they’re messy.
They’ll all be eaten anyway.” She offered her daughter-in-law a warm smile, which
was returned shyly. Lexa looked at the piles of yet undecorated cookies and the
array of frosting and candies and other decorating supplies laid out on the table.
“Everyone else is cleaning, and I get to do this?” She asked, half in awe and half
suspicious.
“I figured I’d need some one-on-one time with you.” Abby said, taking a seat across
from Lexa and grabbing a cookie. “Come on, there’s plenty to decorate. When
everyone’s done we’ll sit down and eat some with milk, of course, and that’s when
Christmas really starts.”
Lexa nodded and got to it. She had only ever decorated cookies in elementary school
– even in her elite private school, first graders were allowed some fun. But that
had been years ago, and now she was sitting in a kitchen, wearing wool socks and a
hoodie and decorating gingerbread reindeer and hearts and it was all just very
strange to her.
It was so warm and homey that Lexa didn’t really know what to do with herself.
“This is a little weird for you, isn’t it?”
Lexa looked up at Abby and stared at her for a while before nodding. It was odd how
the woman seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, and how kind she was about
it; she wasn't prodding or intruding in her own mental space, but rather just
gently coaxing her out of the shell that she instinctively put up at times without
even noticing.
“Yeah. I…my parents don’t do Christmas like this.”
Abby understood that she was quiet, and just wanted to make her feel comfortable.
“Well, from what I gather, they’re not really your family anymore.”
When she saw Lexa’s brows furrow, she added: “We’re your family. Clarke, me, and
Marcus. You’re a Griffin now.”
The bright smile that spread onto Lexa’s lips was more than enough to make Abby
laugh gently.
“Now, tell me. How’s Clarke doing?”
“She’s not exactly an expert at long-term relationships,” Abby shrugged as she

placed an M&M onto a dab of frosting to complete the reindeer she’d been
decorating. “But she’s doing well with you, more than well might I add. I'm
just curious about how well she's managing day-to-day life with someone else.”
“I…it’s nice. She’s…comfortable, I guess. It works. She lets me sleep in on

weekends and I’ve been trying to get her to cut down on her coffee consumption, and
I think I’m getting to her-“
“Oh, that would be great. I’ve been trying for years.”
“And she’s an _awful_ cook,” Lexa laughed slightly. “Did she ever even _try_ to
learn?”
Abby shook her head. “She did, but managed to burn spaghetti so I banned her from
ever going near the stove again. Please tell me you know how to cook, or otherwise
I’ll be forever thinking that the two of you are living on takeout.”
“She does know how to make eggs.”
“That is the only dish she knows how to make.”
“But I guess I know how to cook? Not anything stellar, but edible anyway.”
Abby smiled. “That’s good. Maybe you can teach her a thing or two.”
Lexa let out a laugh, and Abby did too; they both knew just how stubborn Clarke
could be, and knew also that trying to get her to learn to cook would be an
impossible feat unless it was done on the threat of death.
“I’m happy, you know. About you and Clarke. You two seem so happy together, and
it’s just so great because Clarke really does deserve it. And you do too.”
Lexa now felt slightly flustered, and concentrated on drawing a snowflake on the
cookie in her hand. “Uh…thanks, I guess.”
“And it was really great what you did yesterday, at the cemetery. She usually won’t
let me comfort her, you know. I was surprised that she let you. But it’s good. I’m
glad.”
There was no hint of jealousy or distain in Abby’s voice, only warmth and motherly
love which Lexa recognized but could not fathom or get her heart to understand.
This woman was looking at her like she’d seen so many mothers look at her friends,
but never had she been looked at like this; she felt accepted, felt whole, felt
like she was safe and comfortable and warm – it felt like she could tell Abby
anything, and she would simply accept it and offer her a hug.
She really did feel like a part of the family.
“I’m glad too.”
* * *
Clarke joined them in decorating the cookies a while later, and their conversation
then consisted mainly of Abby recounting embarrassing and adorable stories from
Clarke’s childhood. Lexa laughed and smiled so much that by evening her cheeks were
hurting, but it was a good hurt which she was more than glad to be feeling.
They went to bed early, all seven of them, knowing that the next morning they’d be
roused at dawn by an overly enthusiastic Raven. If there was one thing Raven loved
more than inappropriate jokes and beer, it was Christmas.
Sure enough, it was only little past six in the morning when Raven barged into
Clarke’s room, jingling a bell in her hands and skipping happily. She wore a
Christmas hat on her head, and had hung a strand of sparkly garland around her
neck, making her look sort of like a walking Christmas tree with her dark green
hoodie and bright red wool socks.
“Rise and shine, Clarke, it’s Christmas!”
Clarke groaned and buried her face into Lexa’s neck, and her wife threw a pillow at
Raven in an attempt to shut her up.
“In a minute.” Lexa mumbled.
But Raven was having none of it. It was Christmas, and Raven _really_ loved
Christmas. She climbed into the bed, ignoring the groans from Clarke and Lexa, and
promptly laid on top of Clarke who was laying atop Lexa, sandwiching the blonde
between her and the wife and effectively drawing exasperated groans from both of
them.
“I’m not getting off until you get up.”
“Raven, get your ass off of me right now.” Clarke grumbled.
Lexa laughed, although she felt the worst of the weight of both Clarke _and_ Raven
on top of herself. It was funny how annoyed Clarke was, and she couldn't help the
laughter. “Seriously, Raven.”
“Get up.”
“We can’t, not while you’re on top of Clarke!” Lexa quipped. Raven frowned at her
and rolled off of Clarke, who then burrowed her face even more into Lexa’s skin and
pulled the duvet over her head. “Now go away, Raven.”
But Raven’s hands grabbed her waist and dragged her out of Lexa’s arms and out of
the bed. “No. It’s Christmas. I want to give you your present.”
Lexa laughed again, even though she was still pissed about being woken up so early,
because Raven was right.
It was Christmas.
And Lexa was excited. She crawled over to lay over the edge of the bed and to look
at Clarke, who lay on the floor beside the bed whilst Raven looked over her with
her hands planted on her hips. She leaned down and gave her wife a soft kiss before
looking her in the eyes and smiling.
“Come on, Clarke. Let’s go.”
Clarke groaned. “Not you, too.”
“Cla-arke…”
Clarke grabbed Lexa and pulled her down from the bed, but this caused her to more
fall than gracefully climb onto her, and for a moment she cursed her stupid idea
while fighting for the breath which had been knocked out of her lungs.
“That was a bad idea,” she groaned. “You’re heavier than you look.”
“No I’m not,” Lexa grumbled. “You just yanked me out of bed with too much force,
that’s all. Idiot.”
“Will you _two_ idiots get up? Everyone else is waiting downstairs.”
And so they came downstairs about five minutes later to find a groaning, sleepy
group of people scattered along the couches, all looking seconds away from
murdering Raven – but Raven knew this and did not care, no, because it was
Christmas morning and she was damn well going to have fun and make everyone else
have fun too.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen. Who wants some?”
Every single hand went up, even Lexa’s - she was willing to discard her vendetta
against caffeine for the sake of actually surviving a morning call this early. Once
everyone had been served a warm cup of coffee, they began waking up but very
slowly. Abby was the only one missing from the group, because Raven hadn’t dared to
cross her and wake her up. Mama Griffin could be dangerous when her sleep was
disturbed.
“Presents?”
Clarke laughed. “Yes, Raven, you can start giving out the presents.”
Octavia joined Raven in distributing the pile of gifts set under and around the
tree, and for a while, they just watched the two of them skip around handing gifts
to people like two little elves. Bellamy went over to put on some Christmas music,
on the lowest volume setting so as to not disturb Abby upstairs. When he walked
back to his seat, his eyes lingered for just the slightest moment on Clarke and
Lexa – more specifically, they fixed on their intertwined hands, and Raven noticed
the way his eyes narrowed just slightly when he saw them. But she paid no mind to
it, not now, because she was handing Clarke and Lexa her Christmas gift to them and
insisting they open it right that second.
“Raven, I swear to god, if this is a sex toy-“

“It’s not, I promise!” Raven assured her. “Just open the damn box, it’s not a
freaking Rubik’s cube.”
Clarke laughed and opened the box to reveal two mugs, one of which read “Raven is
my best friend” and the other read “Raven is my best friend-in-law”. Upon seeing
the inscriptions, Lexa giggled, as did everyone else when they saw them.
“Raven, this is hilarious,” Clarke laughed. “It’s actually a good gift for once.”
“What, a trip to the strip club and fancy underwear wasn’t a good gift?” Raven
asked, referring to the gift she’d given Clarke the Christmas before. “You sure
liked the first part, at least.”
Lexa raised her eyebrows. “A strip club?”
“Shut up, we weren’t even married then.” Clarke grumbled. “Don’t blame me for
having eyes and a completely normal appreciation of the female figure.”
“I won’t,” Lexa grinned, but made a mental note to bring it up later. She picked up
her mug and looked at it, only to notice a card inside. “What’s this?”
“A gift card.”
“For what?” Lexa asked, picking the card up. Her question was rendered useless when
she saw the text on the card: “XXX-Shop”.
“Raven!”
“What? At least now you get to choose what you want.”
“Raven-“
“You two are married. I’m just trying to prevent the tragedy that is lesbian bed
death from happening with you two.”
Clarke threw a pillow at her, and threw glares at Octavia and Lincoln who were
laughing their asses off. “Raven, shut up.”
Bellamy wasn’t laughing. Clarke noticed this, and raised an eyebrow in question.
“Bell, you ok?”
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah. Just really tired.”
Clarke stared at him for a while before letting it go. “Ok, can we open the
presents now?”
And they did. For a long while, all that one could hear was the ripping of paper
and occasional ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they dug into the considerable amount of
presents loaded beside each person.
Lexa and Clarke had agreed to open each other’s presents last. Lexa was surprised
to find any gifts at all; Anya had told her she’d get her present when they met
again, and Lexa hadn’t expected to be getting any gifts from anyone but Clarke. But
she got a scarf and beanie from Octavia and Lincoln, and a book from Abby – it was
a book on philosophy, though how Abby had known she loved the topic evaded Lexa and
Clarke alike. Clarke swore she hadn’t told her mother, and Lexa believed her.
“Maybe she’s got a sixth sense.”

“Ok, now for my gift.” Clarke took the package and handed it to Lexa. “Go on, open
it.”
Lexa did as told, and laughed first at the coffee-flavored tea before setting her
eyes on the neatly stacked pile of sketchbook papers which were tied together with
a ribbon.
“What’s this?”
“Just look.”
Lexa undid the ribbon and folded it neatly before finally turning the papers over
and finding a whole load of different designs for what was obviously a tattoo – or
many tattoos, actually, because there were some sketched on arms and on backs and
on legs – but they were all beautiful and neat and Lexa wanted to have them all.
“You said you wanted a tattoo but didn’t know what to get,” Clarke murmured as she
leaned in to kiss her cheek. “So I figured why not give you some ideas.”
“Clarke, I don’t have enough skin for all these tattoos. I want them all.”
Clarke laughed. “Well, you’ve got all the time you want to pick the best ones.”
"They're beautiful. Thank you."
"Oh, and I promise to come and hold your hand while you get them done."
Lexa kissed her then, a smile playing on her lips. "It's perfect."
She then placed a large box into Clarke's hands and smirked. “Now open your
present.”
And Clarke did, and Lexa saw the bright smile spread onto her face as she looked
through all the different paints and brushes and papers and art supplies that one
could imagine.
“Oh my god, Lexa, these are all amazing. How did you know what to buy?”
“A kindly old sales lady helped me.”
"It's perfect."
"And it's sort of a starter for your studio, in a way. I know you've already set up
there but there's one more surprise waiting at home, and now you've got a lot more
supplies and canvases and stuff so you can really go all out with it."
Clarke kissed her quickly before returning to look at her gift. “I love it. But now
I’m going to spend all day painting, I’m sorry, but I _have_ to.”
“That’s alright. It’s what they’re for.”
Abby entered the room then, and everyone greeted her happily; she let her eyes run
over the room, and smiled brightly at the sight. Everyone looked overjoyed and
happy, and that was what Christmas was all about for her.
“Your uncle called. He’ll be here in about an hour.”
Clarke nodded. “Ok. Thanks for the book, by the way.”

Abby laughed. “I figured I’d pass on some wisdom.”
Everyone then leaned over to look at the book, which was titled “How to Make A
Marriage Last”.
"That's perfect," Raven commented. "I should've bought them that."
"Too bad I thought of it first."
"Where can I get a copy?" Lincoln asked, but it was only a joke; Octavia swatted
him on the shoulder gently, but everyone laughed nevertheless. The mood that
morning was light and happy, and even Bellamy's all-too-blatant disdain of
_something_ wasn't enough to ruin it.
Nothing was.
It was Christmas, and they were all overjoyed and enjoying each other's company,
and everyone was having fun.
Even Bellamy.
* * *
Abby banned everyone from eating anything in between breakfast and dinner to make
room for the feast she was preparing, which was to start at 3pm and end whenever
people started dropping to the floor to recover from all the food they were to eat.
This led to an extremely hungry group of people sitting around in the house trying
to find something to do as delicious smells emanated from the kitchen. Bellamy,
Lincoln, Octavia and Uncle Marcus were busy with some football game in the study,
while the rest lounged about in the living room. Clarke was drawing Lexa in her
brand new sketchbook, and Lexa was reading the book she’d received from Abby – she
was only about two chapters in, but was already loving it.
Raven was laying on her back on the floor, tossing an apple from one hand to
another, bored as ever. As though the universe had heard her silent plea for
_anything_ to do, her phone rang in her pocket.
“Hello?”
“Raven?”
“Anya? What’s up?” Raven sat up, suddenly slightly flustered, drawing a curious
look from Clarke. Anya had her number, yes, but was yet to actually use it for
anything aside from that one call a week ago that had led her spending the night
and the next day and the night after that.
“I’m cold. Can you come pick me up?”
“From where? Long Island?”
“No, idiot. The bus station.”

“Now?”
“Yes, now. Did you not hear me say I’m cold?”
“You could’ve called me from the bus,” Raven pointed out as she struggled to get
her jacket on without dropping her phone.
“I thought I could get a cab, but it seems the entirety of Baltimore has _died_ in
honor of Christmas.”
Raven laughed. “Ok, I’m on my way.”
“My hands are literally freezing, Raven. Hurry the fuck up.”
* * *
Raven found Anya from the bus station with ease; she was literally the only person
standing on the curb, and she was glad to see her let out an exasperated sigh of
relief when she curved in front of her.
“Thank god, I’m pretty sure I would’ve died of hypothermia if you’d taken any
longer.”
“I came as fast as I could, asshole.” Raven protested. “You didn’t give me much
warning.”
"I had to leave, they were driving me crazy. I was lucky to catch the last bus
here, literally nothing is moving on Christmas."
Raven laughed. "Glad you made it without having to murder them."
"I came pretty close." Anya rubbed her hands together and blew at them, trying to
warm them up. Raven just rolled her eyes and reached over to enclose her own hands
over Anya’s.
“My hands are always warm,” she explained, her fingers rubbing at Anya's and
spreading the heat which resided on her skin. “Figured you’d like to not get
frostbite.”
A smile spread onto Anya’s lips, and she leaned in then, capturing Raven’s lips for
a soft, gentle kiss, which was so different from the rough and demanding kisses
which Raven had grown accustomed to receiving from and giving to Anya.
“Merry Christmas.”
Raven smiled and kissed her again, just as softly as before. "Merry Christmas."
"I got you a gift."
"So did I. It's at the house."
"We'll exchange them then, ok?"
"Of course. Like I'd forget about a present."

Raven started the car then, and they drove off towards Abby’s house. Anya refused
to let go of Raven's right hand, both because her hands were still cold and because
it felt nice to hold it in her own. A few minutes into the drive, however,
Raven felt an overwhelming need to say something - not just a space filler, but
something concrete and sincere which she felt and which she knew Anya would
recognize as heartfelt.
“I’m glad you came.”
Anya looked at Raven, surprised at what she’d said; the brunette kept her eyes
fixed on the road, but Anya now saw that she was vulnerable – she’d exposed herself
with her words, through admitting that she’d wanted her to come. It was so
incredibly endearing to Anya that she couldn’t help but smile.
“Me too."
She took a slight pause before adding three words which she knew would end the
light and fun part of their relationship and drive them into something neither of
them were very experienced at.
"I missed you."
Raven pulled over on the side of the road and looked at Anya, eyes wide. "You did?"
Anya just rolled her eyes and slipped her cold hand onto Raven's neck to pull her
in for a kiss. "Yes, I did."
Raven smiled against her lips, and didn't even bother to pull away as she
whispered: "I missed you too."
> wasn't that ranya ending sweet????

> also what do you guys think of bellamy
27. Chapter 27
> CHRISTMAS WILL GO ON FOREVER I STG

> don't forget the kudos and the comments, the more kudos and comments i get the
higher my creative motivation rises
Clarke and Lexa were still in the living room when Raven and Anya came into the
house. The married pair immediately saw the slight pink that was on both of their
cheeks, and Clarke threw Raven a knowing smirk.
“Merry Christmas, Anya.” Clarke smiled. Lexa set her book aside,got up from her
seat and walked over to give Anya a hug.
“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” she murmured quietly while in her embrace. “Was it really
bad this year?”
Anya shrugged. “I just figured I didn’t have to put up with them anymore.”
She wasn’t about to admit that her real reason for leaving was the fact that she
now had someone she really wanted to spend Christmas with. No, she couldn’t say
that, not when that someone stood beside her, not while the taste of that someone
still lingered on her lips and her tongue.
That would come later.
“So, what now?”
Clarke glanced at the grandfather clock which stood behind her. “It’s almost
dinnertime. I hope you had the sense to fast, because your stomach will burst
otherwise.”
Anya laughed. “I haven’t eaten anything since morning. I think I’ll be fine.”
Abby walked in then, and was thoroughly surprised to find Anya standing in her
living room.
“Merry Christmas!”
Anya smiled. “Merry Christmas, Abby.”
“Glad you could join us.”
Abby knew there was a reason why Anya had come, and knew not to pry. It was
Christmas, and there was no need for dwelling on negative feelings on Christmas.
“Girls, could you set the table? Half an hour till the feast.”
Clarke groaned and set down her sketchbook. The drawing of Lexa was yet to be
finished, and she hastily closed the page before the model herself could glimpse at
it. Lexa frowned, and Clarke offered her an apologetic smile.
“I don’t share unfinished work.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Perfectionist.”
“I just don’t want you looking at it and telling me it’s awful.”
“Clarke, I can’t even draw a stick figure without screwing it up. Everything you
make is beautiful.”
Clarke stood up then, and grabbed Lexa’s shoulders. “If you say so.”
Lexa thought Clarke was going to kiss her, but instead she flipped her around and
began pushing her towards the dining room.
“Come on, the sooner we set the table the sooner we eat.”
Raven and Anya were left standing in the doorway of the living room, and for a
while, neither of them spoke. Raven shifted slightly, bouncing on the balls of her
feet, unsure of what to do or say. Anya, on the other hand, raised her eyes to look
around, and caught sight of a few leaves hung from the door frame above them.
“Raven.”
“Huh?”
“Look. Mistletoe.”
Raven glanced up to see the green leaves hanging above their head, but quickly
returned to look at the woman before her. The mischievous smirk that resided on
Anya’s face was quickly wiped away when Raven pushed her back against the doorframe
and pressed her lips to hers, her body melding into hers all-too perfectly. This
kiss was of yet another new sort, neither rough and demanding nor gentle and soft –
no, this kiss was pure lust and need, neither taking or giving but more than
clearly telling Anya what Raven wanted.
“Now?” She asked as Raven’s hands dug into her hip and their lips parted for just a
second.
“Yes, now,” Raven growled, “It’s been too many days. I told you, Anya. I missed
you. _All_ of you.”
Anya chuckled at Raven’s blatant need and complete disregard for hiding it; it was
flattering to say the least, and she couldn’t deny that she herself hadn’t recalled
the nights she had already shared with the brunette on her more lonelier nights.
“Oh, god guys, get a room.”
Raven turned her head to find not just one but four people standing before them,
all of them staring with wide eyes and amused faces. Apparently the football game
had ended, and neither she or Anya had noticed.
“Shut up,” Raven grumbled at Octavia as she withdrew from Anya.
“So you’re Anya?” Octavia asked, ignoring Raven’s glares. Marcus, Bellamy and
Lincoln slipped past them while Octavia remained there, standing before Raven and
Anya with a curious look on her face.
Anya nodded. “Yes. And you are?”
“Octavia, Raven’s friend.”
“O, can you fuck off?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s almost dinner, and if you want to go do god-knows-what to your

girlfriend, you best be doing it somewhere where Abby can’t see you.”
Raven grumbled. “She’s not-“
But Octavia tapped her head lightly as she passed her, gentle laughter spilling
from her lips. Anya watched Raven for a while before grabbing her face and pulling
her in for another kiss, rough and demanding like they had grown accustomed to. But
Raven groaned and pushed her away, and Anya looked at her in confusion.
“What?”
“What the fuck are we doing?”
Anya raised an eyebrow. “You want to do this now?”
In response, Raven grabbed her hand and dragged her across the living room and into
the study, where she pushed the door shut before flipping Anya over and shoving her
up against it. Anya’s hands were pinned to her sides as Raven’s lips claimed hers,
and she gave into the sensation for a long, pleasurable moment. The brunette was
surprisingly strong, and she actually had to use some force to wriggle a hand free
in order to push Raven’s face away from hers long enough to get a few words in.
“Raven, what the hell?”
Raven groaned then, and dipped her head downward to press her lips onto Anya’s
neck. “What Octavia said,” she murmured as she trailed kisses along Anya’s skin,
Anya couldn’t help but furrow her brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Raven placed her free hand onto Anya’s waist and pressed harder against her,
causing Anya’s head to spin just the tiniest bit. “She called you my girlfriend.”
“And?”
Raven did not look Anya in her eyes; she kept kissing along her neck, her hot lips
distracting the older woman from the conversation at hand. “Do you want to be?”
Anya grabbed Raven’s hair and yanked her head up to claim her lips roughly before
answering. “I'm not opposed to the idea.”
The butterflies erupted in Raven’s stomach, and the smile that spread onto her lips
was all too adorable for Anya to handle. She kissed her again, hard and demanding
as though she were claiming Raven as her own, and when they parted both their lips
tingled with the sheer force of their connection.
“Ok, so we’re doing this?” Raven asked as she was being backed towards the air
mattress by Anya. “Seriously-”
Anya groaned and pushed her down onto the mattress. “Yes, seriously.”
“You’re my girlfriend.”
“And you’re mine,” Anya said simply as she climbed over Raven and pinned her down
onto the bed. “And I will make you mine, over and over again.”
* * *
Anya and Raven just barely made it to the dinner table before Abby walked in with
the turkey. Everyone else was already seated, and they received a round of knowing
smirks and rolled eyes as they took their seats beside one another. Anya sat beside
Lexa, who nudged her gently and offered her a victorious smile.
“Still just ‘having fun’?”
Anya chuckled and shook her head. “No. Looks like I’m effectively trapped.”
For that, she received a jab at her ribs from Raven. “If anyone’s trapping anyone,
it’s you.” She leaned in closer, and then whispered: “Or should I say pinning.”
The older woman shoved her further away from her, but laughter was playing on both
her and Raven’s lips, and they were comfortable and happy altogether. Lexa eyed her
best friend and Clarke’s curiously for a while before turning to look at Clarke,
who sat across from her. Between them, at the end of the table, sat Uncle Marcus,
while Abby sat beside Clarke; the third seat on Clarke’s side was occupied by
Bellamy, and on the other end of the table sat Octavia and Lincoln, a bit cramped
but not minding having to sit so close together. After all, they were just as
married as Clarke and Lexa were.
Clarke shook her head as she looked at Raven and Anya, and Lexa needed no words to
understand what she was thinking.
“You guys are ridiculous,” Clarke laughed, “But please tell me you’re finally
actually together.”
Raven fell silent then, as did Anya. That was all that Clarke needed to know that
she’d been right. She raised her glass then, as did everyone else around the table.
“Congrats, you idiots.”
As the table chorused congratulations to the two now very embarrassed idiots, Abby
walked in with a beautifully cooked turkey, and all their attentions fixed on that.
The table was cramped full of food, from roasted vegetables to mashed potatoes to
gravy and bread rolls and just about any Christmas food imaginable so that there
wasn’t a space left for anything except the turkey which was yet to come. The feast
set before them was mouthwatering to say the least, and the fact that none of them
had had a bite to eat since breakfast meant that everyone’s stomachs were grumbling
as loudly as possible.
They dug into their feast, and the mood was joyous and merry; before long, the
conversation was bubbling, with everyone talking excitedly but no one speaking over
one another. Lexa was soon caught up in a deep philosophical conversation with
Marcus, which she found absolutely delightful given the fact that he had minored in
the topic; Clarke watched the two of them discuss Plato’s ideas and the
Enlightenment and whatever obscure terms which she failed to recognize, and felt
proud at how well Lexa was settling into her family. The brightness of her smile
could have competed with the sun, and Clarke was so enamored by her wife that she
failed at first to notice her mother was talking to her.
“Clarke?”
Clarke finally tore her eyes away from her wife to look at her mother, but was
unable to wipe the idiotic smile from her face. “Hm?”
Abby rolled her eyes. “You really are incredible.”
“What?”
“Clarke, honey, you practically _ooze_ love for Lexa. Don't get me wrong, it's so
great to see that, but you're practically rendered incapable of any other functions
when she's around.”
"No I'm not."
"I had to repeat your name four times before you noticed me," Abby pointed out.
"It's just...look at her, she's so happy. It's not all the time. Just moments like
this."
Abby smiled and nodded. "I get that. It's so great that you have her."
Clarke smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
“And Lexa seems to be settling fine.”

“More than fine, I’d say,” Clarke chuckled. “She’s holding her own in a debate with
Uncle Marcus. That’s a rare thing to see.”
“Yes, Marcus can get competitive. Which reminds me, he wants to play chess with you
later.”
“Mom, that’s another of our traditions. You really think I’d miss it?”
Her mother smiled and patted her cheek. “Just reminding you, given the fact that
you’re currently very preoccupied by your wife.”
* * *
The dinner lasted hours on end, and the discussion that accompanied it never died
down; but in the end they were all rendered groaning messes on the verge of
bursting, and with strenuous effort dragged themselves into the living room, where
some laid onto the couches and armchairs whilst the majority remained on the floor,
much like they had on Thanksgiving. Abby decided to call it a night, given her
irregular sleeping schedule, leaving the rest to fend for themselves.
“Alright, time for chess.”
Clarke groaned. “Later.”
“Clarke, you did promise. Up you get.”
“I’m dying, Uncle Marcus. Leave me be.”
“I’ll bring the board to the floor. How about that?”
Clarke groaned again but turned to lay on her stomach, grabbing a pillow to rest
under her chest as she helped her uncle set up the game of chess. Lexa laid beside
her, and after a while Clarke felt her hand come to rest on her back and drowsily
play with her hair.
Raven was laying partially on top of Anya on the floor, but her eyes were fixed on
Bellamy. She was studying him, and was growing to realize that the time to confront
him of his blatant disdain of Clarke’s relationship was coming near. She groaned
and rolled over so that her lips were near Anya’s ear, and whispered: “Look at Bell
and tell me he doesn’t look like he’s trying to set Clarke and Lexa on fire with
his mind.”
Anya grumbled and raised her eyes, and studied Bellamy for a score of two seconds
before nodding. “He is. You want to kick his ass, or will I?”
Raven sighed. “I’ll do it.” She got up, and smacked Anya’s ass before standing up
and walking over to Bellamy.
“Get up.”
Bellamy looked at her, perplexed. “What?”
“I said get up.”

“Raven, what?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Bellamy stood up, and Raven grabbed his arm roughly before dragging him along with
her out of the living room and into the dining room.
“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Bellamy stood near the table, staring at Raven in complete and utter confusion.
“What?”
“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Bellamy crossed his arms across his chest and glared at her. “Nothing. Why would
you think that?”
“You’ve been glaring and staring at Clarke and Lexa ever since you got here, and
it’s not good stares – I’ve seen you, Bellamy, your jaw clenches and you curl your
fists like you do when you’re angry. So spill – do I have to kick your ass?”
“Why would you have to kick my ass?”
“Do you have a problem with Clarke and Lexa?”
The hesitation was evident in Bellamy’s otherwise intimidating composure, and Raven
groaned. “Fucking shit, Bell. What is it? You wanted Clarke, but now she’s married
and you lost your chance?”
“No.”
“Then what are you, a fucking homophobe?” Raven stepped in closer and jabbed a
finger at Bellamy’s chest. He glared at her and shoved her away, not too roughly,
but roughly enough to properly piss Raven off.
“I don’t like it, that’s all.”
“Don’t like what? Clarke being happy? Clarke having a wife?”
Bellamy was quiet, and Raven took that as a yes.
“I’m going to kick your ass, I swear-“
Just then the door opened, and in walked Lexa, completely oblivious as of yet of
the confrontation taking place in the room. But she closed the door immediately
when she saw the tense postures of both Bellamy and Raven, and her mouth hung
slightly open in question.
“What’s going on?”
Bellamy sighed. “Nothing.”
“No, why is Raven going to kick your ass?”
“I said, it’s nothing.”
Raven stepped in front of Bellamy and yanked Lexa over to stand beside her. “No,
you’re going to tell me why you’re not okay with this _angelic_ creature being
married to Clarke. Tell me why you think the single-most best thing that has ever
happened to Clarke is a bad thing and why you dislike it. Go on, man up and tell
me. Tell her,” she snarled, “Don’t be a coward.”
Bellamy looked at Raven’s furious face, and Lexa’s confusion, and sighed. There was
no way out.
“I just don’t think it’s right, that’s all.”
Now it was Lexa’s turn to be angry. “What isn’t right? The fact that I’m a woman?”
Bellamy nodded slightly, and Lexa only barely stifled the urge to slap him.
“It’s not right and you know it isn’t,” Bellamy muttered, though his voice sounded
somehow hollow and empty. But Lexa didn’t notice this; no, all she noticed was the
fact that she was hearing the same words her parents had repeated to her many times
over, echoing in her ears in both their voices and Bellamy’s. “It’s not a real
marriage. It’s not real love.”
Raven let out a small surprised yelp when Lexa suddenly grabbed Bellamy by the
collar of his shirt and shoved him into the wall, her fist coming up to hover near
his face, only barely stopping before it collided with his jaw. He was way taller
than her, and probably should have been stronger, but Lexa was incredibly strong
for someone so small; she was easily keeping Bellamy in place, not only because of
her physical strength but the absolute fury that burned from her eyes and terrified
Bellamy to the core of his being.
“Say that again, and I’ll hurt you,” Lexa growled. “Say that to _Clarke_ , and
you’re dead.”
Bellamy quivered slightly under Lexa’s hard stare, but kept his ground. “I’m only
speaking the truth. And clearly I’m the only one who sees your marriage for the
joke that it is. It isn’t real. It can’t ever be real.”
“Let’s see how real it is when I punch you and leave a wedding-ring imprint on your
cheek.”
“Lexa, don’t hurt him for real. He’s not worth it," Raven interjected from behind
her. She wasn't about to have Christmas ruined because of a dispute like this, no
matter how much she actually wanted to kick Bellamy's ass.
Lexa did not move her eyes away from Bellamy. “I may not hurt you yet, but say
anything like that again and I will not hesitate to punch you. Now either you go to
hell, or you shut the fuck up – but I don’t want you going near Clarke ever again.”
She let go of Bellamy then, and he quickly slipped away from her and hurried out of
the house. He slammed the front door so loud that Lexa was sure even Abby had woken
to the noise, and wasn’t surprised when Clarke came running into the foyer.
“What just happened?”
She looked at Lexa, and saw that she was tense and breathing heavily; Raven was
too, but she was staring at Lexa in awe in a way which thoroughly confused Clarke.
“Lexa, what happened?”
Lexa just let out a shaky breath. “Nothing you need to know about.”
Clarke wouldn’t accept that answer, and so she pulled Lexa closer to her by her
hand, capturing her green eyes with her own. “Lexa, tell me. Why are you so tense?”
Her wife realized then that keeping the truth from her would only hurt her more in
the long run. And so, begrudgingly as one could, she sighed and said: “Bellamy
doesn’t approve of our marriage. I yelled at him, and he left.”
Clarke gaped at her. “He…he what? What did he say?”
“He said that our marriage was a joke, Clarke. That it couldn’t ever be real.”
“That doesn’t sound like Bellamy.”
“It’s what he said.”
The shock in Clarke’s eyes passed over to be replaced by pure fury, and Lexa failed
to voice her protest before Clarke had thrown open the front door and run out into
the driveway, where Bellamy was just starting his camper van. She stood in the
middle of the driveway so that he couldn’t drive past her, and glared furiously at
him through the glass.
“Bellamy, what the fuck?”
> WHAT THE FUCK, BELLAMY??? AMIRIGHT

> isn't it cute that ranya finally got their shit together
> also protective!Lexa is my fave and i will always love her
> check out my tumblr @clexy-polarbear if u like
28. Chapter 28
> ding dong u guys were wrong abt bellamy

> read on and see
**_“Bellamy, what the fuck?”_ **
Clarke stood before the camper van, determined not to move, and Bellamy was forced
to stop the car and stick his head out of the window.
“Clarke, get out of the way.”
“No.”
“Clarke.”
“Bellamy, you’re going to stop this fucking nonsense and talk to me.”
“I don’t think so,” Bellamy muttered. The van started a little bit forward, and
Clarke jumped backwards – but only a few feet, because she was still determined to
stand her ground. She refused to get out of the way.
“Bellamy.”
“Clarke.”
“Do you want to do this here? In front of everyone? On _Christmas?_ ”

Bellamy sighed and stopped the engine. “Fine.”
Clarke rushed to the door and climbed into the van, where Bellamy already stood,
arms crossed across his chest and a defiant look on his face. She was so angry that
she couldn’t help but give him a shove, which resulted in him being pushed into the
wall.
“What the hell did you say to Lexa?”
Bellamy shrugged, fully accepting Clarke's anger. “The truth.”
“And would you mind telling me what that means?”
“Your marriage isn’t real, Clarke.”
Raven and Lexa may have not noticed the break in his voice when he spoke those
words in the dining room just moments ago, but that did not get past Clarke. No,
she saw now that Bellamy wasn’t angry but _defensive_ – his voice was breaking, his
shoulders were tense, and she could’ve sworn she saw him swallow as though he were
fighting back tears.
“Why are you saying that, Bell? You…you knew about me being bi, I-“
“I didn’t know, Clarke.”
"But I dated girls?"
"You never specified."
"It's not like it's your business."
"You didn’t exactly come out."
Clarke shrugged. “So what if I didn’t care whether I dated boys or girls, or about
defining myself really? Why are you being like this?”
Bellamy shook his head. “It’s wrong.”
“What is? My happiness?”
“It’s…it’s wrong.”
But his voice was now quieter, and Clarke’s brows furrowed when she saw him blink
back tears. “Bellamy…what the hell is wrong with you? Are you in love with me or
something?”
“No. No, it’s not-”
The pain in Bellamy’s voice brought back memories for Clarke; memories of Lexa in
the hospital, when she’d asked if she had a girlfriend and her denial had been
choked and pained. This was all-too similar to that, and Clarke now thought she
knew what was wrong.
“Bell…”
Bellamy cleared his throat. “It's nothing.”
“Are you…?”
“Am I what, Clarke?” Bellamy snapped.
There was a flash of genuine fear in Bellamy’s eyes, and Clarke forced herself to
stifle her still burning anger towards him to be gentler with her words. Whatever
he may have said before and her desire to kick his ass could wait – Bellamy was
still her friend, no matter what he’d said, and he was clearly on the edge of
something big and terrifying.
“Are you gay?”
Clarke watched as her friend crumbled before her; his face paled, and he fell
weakly into the booth beside him, his legs unable to carry him any longer. He
didn’t deny what Clarke had asked; no, he couldn’t, because she was right, and the
bile that rose in his throat disgusted him and he felt like he was going to faint.
Clarke just stood there, unable to move, afraid even – she’d never seen Bellamy
break like this, and realized quickly that he really needed a friend in that
moment. And so she sat down across from him and waited till his breaths evened out
– Bellamy never cried, and he didn’t do so now – only one single tear slipped from
the corner of his eye, but that he caught quickly and wiped away, anger evident in
his entire composure.
“Bellamy?”
Her friend raised his eyes slowly to meet hers, and Clarke offered him a gentle
smile.
“Yes, Clarke,” Bellamy spat, “I’m...that. Gay.” The last word left his mouth like a
poison, and it burned at his lips and throat and made his eyes sting with tears.
But the weight that lifted from his chest when he said that was overwhelming, and
for a while he just stared into thin air, feeling light-headed and nauseous
and...happy?
“But you’re not okay.”
“How could I be?” Bellamy snapped. “It’s…I’m…”
“You just love men where some love women. That’s it, Bell. It’s not wrong, it’s not
an abomination, it’s life and it’s perfectly fine.”
Bellamy let out a huff. “But I’m…Mom, she-“
Clarke inhaled sharply. She’d forgotten entirely of Aurora and of her insanely
zealous Catholicism. It was no wonder her son was broken over his own identity like
this; Clarke could still recall the time Aurora had declared that she was going to
hell for loving women and men altogether.
Of course, Clarke had retaliated with the classic line: “Well, the Bible said Adam
and Eve, so I did both.”
And that was why Clarke was no longer permitted over the threshold of the Blake
residence.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
But Clarke found that she wasn’t so sure what to say to Bellamy; for her, it hadn’t
ever been like this. She had liked boys, and it had been fine. And then she’d
fallen for a girl, and told her mother without hesitation, and her mother had
smiled and helped her make a valentine for the girl. That was how Clarke’s coming
out had been. It had been simple, easy, idealistic – it had been what it should be,
but she knew that she was lucky. She wished then that she hadn’t been so lucky,
that she could’ve known what the pain felt like, so that she could offer some words
of solace to Bellamy.
But then she realized that where she lacked the knowledge, another person certainly
had more than enough.
She sat there for a while, waiting for Bellamy to speak, but when he said nothing,
she stood up. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“You need someone to tell you it gets better.”
Bellamy stared at her for a while, but was too overwhelmed to truly comprehend what
was happening. Clarke nodded and slipped out of the van, only to find Lexa standing
right outside, a perplexed and concerned look on her face.
“What’s happening?”
Clarke took her by the arm and pushed her a little way further from the door. She
took a while to explain the situation to Lexa, and the brunette nodded along, her
expression growing more and more concerned with each word that came out of Clarke’s
mouth.
“So he’s…gay. And he’s not okay with himself?”
“No, he’s not. You can help him, right? You…you had a similar experience.”
Lexa let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I can.”
“And this doesn’t mean I forgive him for what he said. I’m still going to yell at
him about it, nothing excuses what he said, but right now he needs support and
understanding and we can give him that. You get that, right?”
Lexa smiled and kissed her wife. “Yes, I do get that, Clarke. You’re too kind for
anyone else to comprehend.”
“I promise I’ll kick his ass once I’m convinced he won’t go off and try and wreck
himself completely over something which shouldn’t be an issue in the first place.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re okay with this? I don’t want to make you remember anything painful.”
“Clarke, if the pain of my past can help Bellamy realize that the pain does pass,
then I’m more than happy to feel a little down. Besides, you make me happy.”
“I’m coming with.”
They walked into the RV hand in hand, and when Lexa saw Bellamy, she felt pity for
him. She may have still been angry at him and what he had said, but she now
realized that his voice had sounded hollow and empty because the words he had said
hadn’t been his at all; they had been the words of his demons, the very same ones
which Lexa had only left behind two months ago. She and Clarke sat across from him,
and Clarke noticed a twinge of something in his expression which she hadn’t caught
before.
_Guilt?_
His eyes were fixed on their intertwined hands, and the pain was all-too evident in
his otherwise stony face.
Lexa looked at him and smiled in the way which Clarke knew would light up just
about anyone’s heart – it was impossible to feel bad when one could _feel_ the
warmth emanating from the brunette, acceptance which just resided within her as
easily as her breaths and her heartbeat.
Quietly, as though she feared Bellamy would start and run off, Lexa began telling
him about her life. She told him about her first crush; about how pretty she’d
been, and how she’d told her friends and how they’d first told her that it was bad
and how she hadn’t understood. She told him about Costia, and what her parents did
to her and her family; she told him about her school, and Clarke found herself
tearing up even though Lexa only briefly mentioned in passing the physical abuse
which she’d endured; she was yet to ask her about it, and wasn’t so sure if she
ever would. She didn’t want to remind Lexa of her worse days.
And then Lexa told Bellamy about how she’d dealt with it all. About how she’d just
decided she was right and the whole world was wrong, and how terrifying that had
been for her. She described the fear and how it had felt to tell Clarke, because
Clarke had been the second person to ever truly accept her(Anya being the first).
“It helped to yell at them. They were wrong, and your mom is too. They’re all
wrong. Look at me and Clarke. We’re so happy we could burst, but they wanted to
take that away from us,” Lexa finished. “But can I ask you a question?”
As could be expected, Bellamy was quiet and solemn. Even so, he nodded slightly,
and Lexa exchanged a look with her wife before voicing her question.
“Did you have someone?”
Clarke glanced at Lexa, surprised – she, too, had suspected that the guilt in
Bellamy’s presence was because he was seeing what they had and realizing he’d
ruined a chance at getting that – but she wouldn’t have expected Lexa to _ask_
about it.
Bellamy nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I…he left. He told me he
was done waiting.”
Both Clarke and Lexa understood, but for different reasons; Lexa had been left like
that before, while Clarke had once been the one leaving – she hadn’t meant to, and
it had hurt her greatly, but the closet was not a place for her and ultimately, she
was her own priority.
“When?”
“Before Thanksgiving. He wanted me to come meet his family.”
“Did he say it was over?”
“He said he was done waiting for me to come out. He said he’d be waiting for me on
the other side.”
“Do you think you’re ready now?”
Bellamy sighed. “Doesn’t this count?”

Clarke was glad to see that he was able to joke. “It does, Bell. Screw your mom,
you don’t need to say anything to her.”
“But Octavia-“
“Octavia loves you no matter what, Bell. I guarantee you, she probably already
knows.”
There was a slight pause.
“Listen,” Bellamy sighed, finally raising his eyes to look at both Clarke and Lexa.
“I’m really sorry about what I said. And I know you have every right to be angry,
and I know what I said must’ve hurt. So I just want to say that I’m sorry.”
Lexa nodded. “I kinda want to kick your ass, but I guess I’ll let it slide. But
don’t go spewing that bullshit ever again.”
Bellamy let out a weak laugh. “I don’t know what got into me, I just…I saw you
guys, and I remembered Murphy, and-“
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re mad, yes, but it’s okay. I – we – get why. It’s nothing we
can’t eventually get past.”
They got up then and walked back into the house, Clarke and Lexa still hand in hand
with Bellamy following them. He took Octavia aside into the other room, and after a
short while they heard a happy cry and Clarke then knew she’d been right – when
Octavia and Bellamy emerged a moment later, Octavia beaming and Bellamy looking
relieved and overwhelmed, she knew Octavia had been fine about it.
More than fine, actually. Bellamy gave Clarke permission to tell the rest of the
people in the house – he didn’t feel up to it, he was overwhelmed, and so he went
back to his camper van to take a well-deserved nap and perhaps make the phone call
he’d been yearning to make for almost a month.
This left the rest of the company thoroughly confused; the mood was still a little
solemn, given what had just happened.
“Did Lexa really throw Bellamy into a wall?” Octavia finally asked. When Lexa
nodded, and Raven verified her claim, there were surprised cries from everyone
else.
“How? He’s in the Army, and like a foot taller than you!” Octavia cried.
Lexa shrugged. “I can hold my own.”
“I knew you were fit, but- whoa,” Clarke stammered. “Do you do martial arts or
something?”
“Yoga.”
“Yoga taught you how to throw people into walls?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “No, my boarding school did that.”
Clarke fell silent, thinking she’d upset her; but Lexa just rolled her eyes and
kissed her gently before offering her a smile. “It’s fine, Clarke, I’m not upset.
There’s no need to walk on egg shells around me.”
Clarke chuckled. “I know. It’s just instinctive, you know?”

“I do.”
“How about we finish that chess match now?” Uncle Marcus asked Clarke, smiling
brightly in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “And someone could put the music
back on, it’s all too quiet.”
Clarke smiled. “Yeah, sure.”
And so they settled back into their comfortable Christmas day evening. Octavia set
up a fire in the fireplace, and she and Lincoln laid on the couch together, reading
their respective books and enjoying their presence; Clarke sat at the table in
front of the window, deeply concentrating on the game, and once she’d lost the
first match, it turned into a best of 3. Lexa sat in an armchair nearby, and after
a while, Clarke reached a hand over to hold hers. She wanted Lexa to know that even
though she wasn’t currently paying attention to her, she was still there. After
all, it was Christmas, and Lexa was her wife, and holding her hand made her heart
feel like it was resting right.
* * *
Raven had stood in the living room doorway for about two minutes before finally
grabbing Anya’s hand and dragging her out of the room.
“Presents,” she offered the woman as an explanation. “I’d like some privacy.”
Anya rolled her eyes but wriggled herself free of Raven’s grasp long enough to grab
her bag from the foyer before she was led into the dining room.
Raven’s gift for Anya was not so much wrapped as placed in a pretty bag and tied
with a ribbon, while the gift Anya held in her hand was significantly smaller – it
was a small square box, and Raven couldn’t help but blurt out:
“What is it, a ring?”
Anya groaned. “Raven, you’re an idiot.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Anya kissed Raven as she handed her the box and took the bag into her own hand.
“Merry Christmas, idiot.”
“You open yours first.”
Anya did as told, and pulled out a pair of soft, knitted mittens. She raised her
eyebrows at Raven, who shrugged and said: “Your hands are always cold. This way you
won’t have your fingers falling off whenever I’m not there to hold your hand.”
The older woman scoffed. “Very sweet, or then you just ran out ideas.”
“Hey! There’s more to the gift than just that.”
Anya pulled out the bottle of whiskey, and was pleased to find that it was her
favourite brand. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
Raven smirked. “Maybe. But there’s one more thing.”
Anya looked into the bag and saw a small card. When she reached in and pulled it
out, she saw it wasn’t exactly card but five pieces of paper, held together by a
paperclip. On them read, in messy and squiggly handwriting: “Sexy voucher coupon
for one fantastic night with the Reyes Wonder”
She scoffed. “The Reyes Wonder?”
“What?”
“It makes you sound like a porn star.”
“Hey! It’s a great nickname.”
“You can’t nickname yourself.”
“I didn’t, that name came from a very satisfied customer.”
Raven was startled by the sound that came from Anya’s lips then; it was almost like
a growl, and she looked into her yes to find that she was thoroughly annoyed.
“Holy shit, did you just get jealous?”
“No.”
“You totally did.”
Raven’s teasing hit the right spot; Anya growled again as she shoved Raven back
against the table and onto it, leaning over her to roughly capture her lips within
her own, effectively silencing her taunts and replacing them with whimpers full of
want.
But then she was back on her feet again, and Raven was left sprawled on the table,
breathing heavily and looking thoroughly fucked despite none of anything having yet
to occur. She let out a whining noise, but Anya just picked up the box from where
it’d fallen and handed it to her.
“Open your present.”
Raven sat up, leaving her legs to dangle off the edge of the table, and unwrapped
the neatly wrapped present in record time. When she opened the box, she let out a
little gasp as she saw the bracelet that was within.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Anya smirked. “Yes, Raven, it is.”
Raven picked up the gold-tinted bracelet and undid a clasp, turning it into a long
chain of tools and drillheads and anything a mechanic could possibly need, all
expertly assembled into a somewhat sturdy yet beautiful bracelet.
“You got me jewellery.”
“A toolkit bracelet, Raven. Not sure if that counts as jewellery.”
Raven put the bracelet on, and held her hand up to look at it. “It’s pretty.”
“You always complain about losing your tools, so I fixed the problem.”
“Where did you even find this? I’ve been looking for one for ages.”
“I was persistent.”
Raven’s arm snaked around Anya’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. “It’s great.”
“Glad you like it.”
"But it's totally jewellery."
"I like the idea of claiming you as mine," Anya murmured, "And a bracelet should
do."
The word mine was more than enough to rile Raven up. “You wanna use one of those
coupons now?”
“Why would I use a coupon when you’d be gladly giving the Reyes Wonder to me for
free?”
“What makes you think I’d give it for free?”
Anya picked Raven up then, her hands tightly on the brunette’s thighs as she
pressed her against her waist and caused her to moan as her core came into contact
with her body. “That’s why.”
“Fucking shit, Anya, we can’t fuck in Abby’s dining room.”
“I was thinking the bedroom, but if you want…”
“Yes, bedroom. Now.”
* * *
About two hours later, Bellamy came back into the house, and with a shy smile
settled into an armchair with his phone. He texted all night, and Clarke had no
doubt it wasn’t the Murphy who he’d mentioned in passing. No, it had to be, because
the smile that played on her friend’s lips was all-too warm for it to just be some
friend.
Christmas carols played softly in the background, and the darkness outside was an
all-encompassing blue which seemed almost as though someone had painted all the
world with the colors of the ocean; the streetlights looked like little yellow
suns, levitating over the sidewalk and emanating their warm light in little
spotlights along the otherwise hazy blue of the night. The fire crackled in the
fireplace, slowly dying out but none of them cared to get up and add to it; the
warmth in the house was more than enough.
When Clarke won her sixth match with Marcus, bringing their tournament to a 3-3
standstill, Lexa sat up and stretched.
“Clarke, you should take a break.”

But what she really meant was that she wanted a break, and Clarke glanced at her
uncle. “That alright?”
Her uncle just laughed. “Of course, Clarke.”
Clarke stood up then and groaned as her muscles strained under the effort; she was
so comfortable, so full from the dinner and so warm and so relaxed, that moving at
first felt as though she were wading through water.
“Can we go for a walk?”
Clarke nodded and together they headed into the foyer, where they put on their
coats and shoes in comfortable silence. Lexa put on the beanie and scarf she’d
received from Octavia and Lincoln, and she looked so incredibly adorable that
Clarke surely felt like she couldn’t handle it.
On their way out, they caught sight of Raven pinned up against a tree in the yard
by Anya, their lips locked and with no care in the world for anyone or anything
else.
“Should we tell them that it’s cold?”
Clarke laughed. “I think Anya would murder me if I dared to disturb them.”
Lexa laughed too, and wrapped an arm around Clarke’s waist and slipped her hand
into her pocket. “What are you doing?” Clarke asked.
“Your pockets are warmer than mine,” Lexa replied simply, her hand pressing against
Clarke's waist through the pocket. “Now come on, let’s leave those two idiots to
their own devices.”
They walked down the street, and Clarke took Lexa to all her favorite places. She
showed her the tree she’d fallen from when she was 8 and broken her arm; she showed
her the pond where she’d fed ducks and fish, and the playground where she’d met her
first crush. She showed Lexa the street where she’d learned to ride a bike, and the
place where she’d fallen on it first; she showed her then the scar that still
resided on the soft skin of her hip, just above the bone, in a slightly triangular
shape where the bike’s pedal had hit it. Lexa had crouched down briefly to press a
soft kiss onto the scar, and Clarke had yelped when she’d thought Lexa was going
for somewhere else with her mouth.
They’d wandered through the hidden paths which Clarke had found as a little child,
when the kids at school had been mean and she had been looking for a place to run
to. The paths eventually led their way to the park, and Lexa was surprised when
they suddenly walked out of a bush and found themselves before the bench which had
forever been imprinted into her memory.
“Come on.”
They walked over to the bench and sat down, and Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s
shoulder as they leaned back and looked at the starry night sky that stretched out
over them and above the sea that lay below the cliff. The waves that crashed on the
shore hummed in the night air, and overall the scenery before them was like that of
a painting.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Lexa hummed and rubbed Clarke’s arm with her hand. “Yes, it is.”
“You’re okay, right?”
Lexa then turned slightly, and Clarke raised her head so that she could meet her
eyes.
“What do you mean, Clarke?”
“I mean the whole Bellamy thing.”
“It’s fine, Clarke, what he said doesn't matter.”
Clarke sighed. “I meant what you told him. The whole…thing.”
“I’m over it, Clarke. It does no one good to dwell on the past,” Lexa murmured.
“Why would I feel sad about something that has already happened when I look at you
and see all the happiness that is yet to happen?”
Clarke captured her lips then, gently and lovingly, and Lexa sighed. “If you ever
want to talk about it, you know I’m here.”
Lexa smiled. “I do.”
Clarke smirked and a gentle laugh left her lips. “I do too.”
And then Lexa laughed, and their world was happy – nothing, not Lexa’s past or
anything that was yet to come, nothing could destroy what they had.
Lexa leaned her head on Clarke’s shoulder, and Clarke’s hand came up to gently cup
her face. Her thumb drew circles on Lexa’s cheek, and she relished that touch, so
natural and so comfortable that Lexa surely would have cried were it not for the
fact that it was not novel but normal. Feeling this good was everyday for her now,
and she was sure that it would forever feel surreal.
“Do you know what Anya told me when we left the lodge all that time ago? After
you’d fallen asleep?”
Lexa shook her head slightly. “Tell me.”
“She said that if I stuck by your side, you’d be just fine.”
Lexa let out a laugh. “Well, she was right. I’m more than ‘just fine’, though.”
“Isn’t it insane, though?”
“What, our marriage?”
“Yeah. The whole relationship. We…we’ve really only been dating for about two
months. And we’re married.”
“Talk about U-hauling.”
The joke caught Clarke by surprise, and she snorted in the most unattractive way
possible. This in turn caused Lexa to laugh, and in no time at all, they were
laughing together, the only two people in the park near midnight on Christmas Day.
It was dark, it was cold, but they wouldn’t have noticed it – all they could hear
was the melodic sound of their laughter, matching together in a perfect harmony,
and the feel of each other beside themselves. Their laughter echoed and rose into
the blue night sky, and surely reached the heavens themselves, because it seemed
then that the world became that much brighter; the blue of night deepened, and the
softness of the silence around them became even softer as the stars overhead
twinkled brighter than they’d ever seen them.
They had one another, and to them, that the best Christmas gift anyone could ever
ask for.
> HOW GREAT WAS THAT

> i coulda had them kick bell's ass but it's christmas and i was generous
> also, in case any of you aren't yet aware, I started a Lexacoon fic and it's
fucking great so go check that out
> once again, don't forget the kudos and comments and to come say hi to me on
tumblr @clexy-polarbear because i love you all
29. Chapter 29
> i have exams coming up so the chapters are getting shorter BUT i threw in some
smut to soothe u guys's pained souls
> enjoy~
The next morning none in the house awoke before noon, and even then, they did not
bother gathering together; everyone crawled into the kitchen at their own times to
steal a bite or two of the leftovers piled on the counters and in the fridge before
going back to bed. Raven and Anya were determined to see just how many times they
could indulge in one another before the other caved and stopped the fun, while
Octavia and Lincoln were enjoying some quiet time together, lounging in their bed
set up in the study. Bellamy slept in his camper van with his phone propped up
against a pillow, the screen showing a video call and an equally as asleep Murphy;
he’d fallen asleep, as had Murphy, and neither of them had bothered to hang up.
Abby had awoken some time around seven to go around and check on everyone, but
after finding the house sound asleep and peaceful, she had gone back to bed. She
only had so many mornings in the year when she was allowed to sleep in.
Surprisingly enough, it was Lexa who woke up first that morning. She was surprised
herself to find Clarke still asleep, the blonde’s head resting atop hers; Lexa was
laying half atop Clarke, with her arms around the brunette’s waist, one hand
resting just gently atop Lexa’s thigh while the other held firmly onto her waist.
Lexa found herself feeling both drowsy and wide awake, and sighed contently when
she realized she had nowhere to be. It didn’t matter to her that the clock on the
bedside table told her that it was no longer morning but afternoon.
They’d gone to bed around one in the morning, but that hadn’t meant that they’d
slept; no, actual sleep had only come two hours later, after they’d finally spent
one another in kisses and moans and whimpers and grinding and even more kissing –
Lexa found that she couldn’t get enough of Clarke’s lips, and even now, she found
herself wanting to feel them on hers again.
She rose to lean on her elbows, but Clarke did not wake up; no, she mumbled
something in her sleep and snuggled herself closer to Lexa, and Lexa only barely
kept the ‘aww’ from escaping her lips. With a gentle hand, she began tracing the
features of Clarke’s face, her fingertip grazing her wife’s skin like the tip of a
feather. She traced the outlines of Clarke’s lips, and ran her finger gently over
them, feeling the softness even through their dryness. Clarke smiled at the
contact, now wide awake but yet to show Lexa that; she relished this moment, of
Lexa just taking her in, touching her and looking at her while she thought Clarke
couldn’t see.
Her patience was rewarded when she felt Lexa’s hands cup her face and her lips
press against her own, gently pecking at them at first, but growing with demand
with each kiss, until Clarke could no longer pretend she was asleep. She kissed
Lexa back, and heard a low chuckle leave her throat.
“I know you’re awake, Clarke,” Lexa murmured.
“Good morning.”
Lexa didn’t respond, only pressed down against Clarke’s lips harder with her own,
and Clarke could almost _taste_ the lust on her mouth – when Lexa’s tongue ran
along her bottom lip, tentative as though asking for permission, she parted her
lips and allowed the kiss to deepen. Lexa climbed on top of her then, and Clarke
chuckled as her wife’s sex brushed against her thigh and felt the wetness that had
already gathered there.
“Looks like you’ve been having a fun morning,” Clarke hummed. Lexa grumbled and
pulled away, one hand fisted in Clarke’s hair to keep her in place.
“You’re beautiful and it’s Boxing day.”
“And that means sex?”
Lexa leaned in and kissed her. “Every day means sex when you’re as beautiful as you
are.”
Clarke only sighed and laid back, allowing Lexa to take her as she pleased; she was
still drowsy, still unsure whether she was dreaming or not – it was hard to tell
nowadays. Reality was simply so good that she felt it _had_ to be a dream, and yet
there she as, her neck being ravished by her wife’s hot lips and their bodies
moving against one another, a hand fisting her hair and another cupping her breast;
Clarke was all-too happy to give Lexa what she wanted, because in truth, she wanted
it too.
She always wanted it.
Lexa was hot and demanding, and Clarke couldn’t get enough of the way the brunette
could be so assertive when fucking her and a completely different person when it
was Clarke’s turn to give; Lexa turned then into a whimpering mess, one into which
she rendered Clarke all too often.
In truth, they rendered one another whimpering messes, and that was why their
relationship worked so well.
“Happy holidays,” Lexa murmured as she slid her hand down along Clarke’s bare
stomach and towards her center, “Even though Christmas is over.”
Clarke laughed. “Oh, Lexa. Christmas is never over.”
“How come?”
“Santa’s always watching.”
Lexa’s eyebrows quirked slightly. “Really, now? Then tell me, am I going on the
naughty list if I do this?”
Clarke hadn’t noticed her hand had come to rest between her thighs, but that fact
came all too evident when two fingers slipped inside her with ease, meeting slick
wetness which had gathered there all thanks to Lexa. She gasped at the surprise,
and Lexa had never felt so powerful; after their night spent in the throes of
passion, Clarke was rendered extremely sensitive, and even just a slight shift of
her fingers inside the blonde elicited whimpers and moans which aroused her more
than anything.
“Fuck, Lexa, that’s definitely getting you on the nice list,” Clarke moaned as Lexa
added in a third finger and began fucking her at a steady pace. “Fuck-”
Lexa’s teeth bit into her lower lip, and Clarke sighed into the contact; her
fingers inside her were just perfect, bringing her to the brink not minutes after
waking up. Lexa was on her, _in_ her, and she was overwhelmed with pleasure and
comfort and happiness and love for the woman currently fucking her like there was
no tomorrow.
But there was a tomorrow, and that was what shocked Clarke on an everyday basis.
She threw her head back and let Lexa do what she did best, and then let her do it
again not moments after the first; when her wife finally settled down enough for
Clarke to be able to take her turn and render her a whimpering mess, Clarke took
the opportunity to thoroughly tease and taunt her. Lexa may have been demanding and
dominant, but Clarke was cunning and relished the pained whimpers and the way
slight touches and skirting around the right spots left Lexa _begging_ for more,
pleading for release.
When Lexa finally got her release, the moan which left her mouth was loud enough
for Raven to hear it from outside the door, where she’d been just about to knock.
But she heard the moan, and shrugged to herself before heading back downstairs.
“They’re still at it,” she informed Anya. “Your best friend is a loud one.”
Anya chuckled. “I’m sure she is.”
“Or maybe Clarke is just _that_ good.”
“Why are we discussing this?”
“I don’t know, I’m curious.” Raven shrugged and fell down onto the couch beside
Anya.
“About what? About what Clarke’s like in bed?”
Raven smirked. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.”
Anya grumbled then, and Raven saw now her shoulders rise up in a hunch. She
chuckled when she realized Anya was jealous again, and got up and wrapped an arm
around Anya.
“No need to be jealous.”
Anya turned her head and grabbed Raven’s jaw, not roughly or in any way hurting
her, but in the demanding fashion which was her trademark; her thumb ran over
Raven’s lips before she pressed her own lips against Raven’s, and her girlfriend
melted to her touch.
“Mine,” she murmured as she slowly pushed Raven onto her back on the couch and laid
atop her. “Only mine.”
Raven hummed. “Yes, yours. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“You make it sound like you dislike it.”
The brunette’s hand pulled her back in for a kiss. “Then you’re hearing it wrong. I
_love_ it.”
“Good.”
“But you needn’t worry. I may flirt with people, but that’s just to lighten the
mood. You’re the only one I’ll let top me.”
“What about bottom?”
“Anya, you’re fixating on details. Trust me when I say I’m committed to you.”
“I do trust you. But I don’t like the idea of you with anyone else.”
“Well, thankfully, that’s only an idea.”
* * *
Finally, around four in the afternoon, Clarke and Lexa made their way downstairs
for a late lunch. After Lincoln’s infamous(and surprisingly delicious) Christmas
leftover sandwiches, they found Abby from the study where she was delved deeply in
a game of solitaire.
“Thank you for the cards, Lexa. I don’t know how you knew I’d just lost a card from
my old deck.”
Lexa smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Is there something you two wanted?”
Clarke smiled. “You know how we said that our gift was kind of a surprise?”
“Yes?”
“Well, get dressed. Neat clothes, nice makeup. We’re going to go get a new family
picture taken.”
Abby’s face lit up. She’d been trying to get Clarke to take a family picture for
years, but thus far to no avail – the picture that hung in the living room was of
them before Jake had fallen ill, and featured a tiny ten-year-old Clarke with a
beaming smile with a few missing teeth.
“Really?”
Clarke glanced at her wife before nodding. “Yeah. Figured we should get shots of me
and Lexa too – how else are you going to prove to all my aunts and cousins that I’m
married?”
Abby laughed and stood up, enveloping her daughter into a hug.
“It’s very sweet of you, Clarke. Best Christmas gift ever.”
“Don’t thank me. It was actually Lexa’s idea?”

Abby pulled away from Clarke and hugged Lexa. “Well, thank you.”
“I just said that I thought we should get wedding pictures done. Although we’re
already married, it just…it’d be nice to have in the apartment.”
“That it indeed would.”
And so they dressed in their neatest clothes and made their way downtown to a
photography studio Clarke had called up a few days earlier; it was miraculous
enough that they were working the day after Christmas, but also the fact was that
Clarke had worked with them briefly and knew that their work was very high quality.
Clarke wore a neat buttonup and black jeans, her hair combed neatly but not put in
any especial way; Lexa, on the other hand, wore her hair with a few braids on the
side, wearing a neat wool sweater and jeans and a shy, happy smile which lit up the
whole room.
The picture itself was taken of Abby standing in the middle with her arms around
both her daughters’ and her daughter-in-law’s waists, all three of them beaming at
the camera with bright smiles and happy faces.
“It’s beautiful,” Abby sighed. “I’m so glad for this gift.”
“Just wait till you get our couple pictures. They’re adorable.” Clarke smirked.
They’d just finished their shoot, and had full faith that good content had been
created. “You better promise to make space for it on a visible place on the walls.
It’s going to be a masterpiece.”
Her mother laughed. “Given how the two look at each other, I have no doubt it
will.”
* * *
They were all gathered around the TV, watching some Christmas cartoons, when
Clarke’s phone rang. The twist in their guts was all-too-real, and it did not help
when Clarke flashed her phone screen to Lexa to show that it was Indra who was
calling. The two of them got up and sneaked away, dread filling their hearts.
“Hello, Indra?”
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting anything?”

“No, not at all. Just didn’t expect a call.”
“It’s nothing too important. I just negotiated the trial be bumped up to January –
it’s Christmas, and I’m sure you two have things to do. I would, however, like to
meet with you some time this week. When will you be available?”
Clarke sighed. “We’re in Baltimore as of now, but we’ll be returning in two days.
So maybe Thursday?”
“Thursday at 11? I’ll text you the details.”
“Yes, that sounds great. But the case is still the same? No new developments?”
“No, Miss Griffin. You two have nothing to worry about.”
> oops drama is back again

> but so is indra and indra is great
> but before the trial comes New Years, which means lots of kisses and alcohol and
adorableness...
> yet again, kudos and comments are life, talk to me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear
30. Chapter 30
> its just sin

> all of the sin
>
They returned to New York late Wednesday evening to find a light dusting of snow
covering the city. It was cold in their apartment when they got there, and Clarke
immediately pulled out two pairs of wool socks from her bag and tossed one at Lexa.
“I stole a few from Mom. She won’t mind, my aunt Becca knits like ten pairs a month
and mails them all to her.”
Lexa just smiled and pulled the socks on, relishing the way they protected her feet
from the icy cold stone floor. Not to mention the pair on Clarke’s feet was a
little too big and adorable to say the least.
“Your turn to do the laundry,” Lexa then grinned. She threw her bag at Clarke, who
only barely caught it, yelping slightly as the bag teetered over her arm and nearly
fell to the ground.
“What do you mean my turn? I did it last time!”
Lexa shook her head and laughed. “You’re dreaming.”
“No, I did laundry two days before we left for Mom’s, I’m sure.”
“Really? Because I could’ve _sworn_ I did the laundry two days before we left for
Baltimore.”
“Lexa, I’m tired.”
“And you think I’m not? You woke me up at six, Clarke.”
“It’s not like you were complaining-“
“I’m not saying I like being woken up at ungodly hours for sex, I do, but they’re
still ungodly hours and it’s almost eleven. I want to sleep.”
“But it’s your turn.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Lexa smirked when she saw that she was getting the best of Clarke; it _was_ her
turn, but she was exhausted and she knew she could get Clarke to do it. And so she
stepped in and wrapped her arms around her wife’s waist, and leaned in to press a
soft kiss just below her ear. “If you do this, I’ll be willing to postpone sleep
for something far more…fun.”
Just as she’d expected, Clarke shivered at her words, and she pulled away to find
her looking at her with wide eyes and lips just slightly parted.
“You promise?”
Lexa smirked and kissed her for a long while. “Yes, I promise.”
The speed with which Clarke grabbed the hamper and their travel bags was all too
amusing for Lexa, who laughed gently to herself after her wife had practically
scrambled her way out of the apartment and down the hall to the laundry room.
Clarke had been on edge for two days now, and Lexa was enjoying every single bit of
it. According to Clarke, it was because ‘Satan’s bloody nightmare’ was well on it’s
way, but for the time being Lexa was enjoying an incredibly frustrated and needy
blonde who could be brought to the brink with just a few words and a well-placed
kiss.
She sauntered over to the kitchen and fixed herself a quick snack before grabbing
the book she’d gotten from Abby and settling herself onto the couch to wait for
Clarke. She was sleepy, yes, but she’d promised Clarke and she was nothing if not
true to her word.
But about half an hour passed, and she grew impatient, and so she set her book down
and decided to have some fun with Clarke. Quickly as one could, she hurried
upstairs to their bedroom, where she shed the comfortable lounge wear she’d been
wearing all week and picked out her hottest set of underwear. It was the very same
one Clarke had told her she recalled from their night in Vegas, a dark turquoise
set with an especially pushing bra and cute little details. Over that, she simply
put on a short silk robe, and then she headed out of the apartment(with the door
left unlocked, of course, because she wasn’t about to have them locked out of their
place for the sake of some fun) and down the hall to the laundry room.
When Clarke saw Lexa appear in the doorway, clad in only a dark blue silk robe, her
jaw dropped to the floor.
“Lexa, what...?”
Lexa just grinned and walked over to where Clarke sat on a table, parting her legs
so that she could lean in between them and kiss the blonde hungrily. “You’re taking
too long.”
“The programs’ going to be at least half an hour-“ Clarke began, but her words
slipped away when Lexa’s lips claimed hers again.
“That’s fine. We can wait.”
But Lexa didn’t go, or move away; no, she stayed there, her lips just an inch from
Clarke’s, her eyes twinkling with amusement and a challenge which Clarke found was
all too tempting to resist.
“Here?” She asked.
Lexa’s answer came in the form of a hand pressing against Clarke’s center and a
pair of lips against hers. Clarke groaned and pushed herself into Lexa’s hand, the
want and need returned in an instant with no apparent intention of leaving
unsatisfied.
“If you want?”
Clarke groaned and her hand wrapped around Lexa’s neck to pull her in, pull her
closer until Lexa’s waist pressed against Clarke’s core with just enough pressure
for Clarke to feel pleasure _pulsing_ where their bodies connected. She groaned
into Lexa’s mouth, and with her other hand pulled loose the belt of Lexa’s robe,
revealing her wife clad in a dark turquoise set which Clarke had already acquainted
herself very well with. She pushed Lexa a bit away from herself, and the brunette
shed the robe off herself completely, leaving herself standing only in her
underwear in the laundry room of their apartment building in the middle of the
night.
“It’s not like anyone’s going to be doing laundry at this time of night,” Clarke
shrugged as she pulled her own shirt over her head and cast it aside. “And I can’t
_not_ do anything when you look like that.”
Lexa just grinned and stepped in, helping Clarke’s leggings off of her before
returning to kiss along her neck and jaw. Her hands roamed Clarke’s body, running
along and pressing on waists and breasts and hips and thighs until suddenly Clarke
found herself held in Lexa’s arms. But she was too preoccupied with Lexa’s lips to
notice they were moving, and so when she was set down onto a laundry machine and
she felt the vibrations run through her center she moaned from both surprise and
pleasure. Lexa was all too pleased at her idea and the sudden flush of pink which
had rushed to Clarke’s cheeks the instant she’d been set down.
“Feel good?”
Clarke bit her lip, trying to stifle the desire she had to start grinding her hips
against the slight vibrations running through her core. “Mm-hm.”
“Good enough to not need help?”
Clarke groaned and yanked Lexa closer, pushing her hand downward in a demanding
fashion. “Don’t you dare taunt me.”
Lexa grinned victoriously. “You know that’ll only make me want to tease you.”
“Lexa, please-“ Clarke breathed. “I can’t…I need this, I need you, I just can’t
stop. It won’t stop.”
That was too tempting for Lexa to let pass. “Then it’s good that you’re mine to
fuck,” she growled, pushing against Clarke and pulling her against herself. “Mine,”
she repeated, and the whimper that left her wife’s lips when she heard it was so
intoxicating Lexa was sure the room was spinning. She slid a hand up along Clarke’s
thigh whilst the other pressed into her waist, nails digging just slightly into
soft skin; Clarke was breathing heavily, anticipating where Lexa’s hands and
_fingers_ were headed, and Lexa’s lips on her neck were almost too much – but then
Lexa moved on to kiss along the soft spot beneath her ear, the one which made her
lose all control of her body and just give in to the sensations, and the warm
shudder that spread through her body from the small of her back was almost
paralyzing. She almost didn’t notice that Lexa’s fingers pushed her underwear
aside, or that her hand had left her waist and was now pushing her legs further
apart; no, Clarke’s eyes were closed and her lips parted, tiny whimpers and moans
leaving her mouth amidst erratic breaths and gasps, but then fingers met the slick
wetness and the moan that echoed in the laundry room was not Clarke’s but Lexa’s.
“Fuck, you’re wet.”
Clarke didn’t respond – she couldn’t even think coherently, not when Lexa was
slowly pushing not two but _three_ fingers into her without any buildup, not when
she was aching for more, for Lexa to take her roughly and to make her forget her
name – and so Lexa just grinned and went even slower, knowing it was agonizing for
the blonde.
She let herself rest there for a while, knuckles deep inside her wife, before
pulling her hand away altogether and grinning at the disappointed whimper that left
Clarke’s lips. She brought her hand up then, and couldn’t help but smile when she
saw her fingers covered in Clarke’s arousal, shining and wet and glistening in the
low light of the room. Eyes locked into Clarke’s, she put one finger in her own
mouth, grinning slyly when she saw the frustration and unbridled lust burning
within Clarke’s entire presence as she licked her finger clean and savored the
taste of Clarke’s arousal.
“Lexa, please-“
Lexa silenced Clarke by putting her finger onto her lips, which parted
instinctively and allowed Lexa to slip her finger inside Clarke’s mouth. The blonde
was so turned on, so much in need, that Lexa was struggling to keep her own moans
and groans at bay.
“What, you can’t take a little teasing?” she asked, her voice husky and low.
Clarke’s eyes found hers, and Lexa saw the expression had changed. Gone was the
need, gone was the want.
Clarke was demanding her now, and when she opened her mouth and spoke, Lexa knew
she couldn’t deny her pleasure any longer.
“Fuck me. Now.”
And of course, Lexa couldn’t say no to her wife.
* * *
Raven walked in to the laundry room at about half past midnight, expecting to have
it all to herself, only to walk in on Clarke laying on top of the washing machine
with an all-too familiar brown-haired head buried between her thighs, moans
spilling from her lips as her hands fisted that brown hair between her fingers and
pushed Lexa's head downwards. Raven froze in her steps, pure joy spreading into her
entire being when she saw the situation; an army of jokes rose into her mind, so
many in fact that she at first failed to choose just one. The fact that neither
Clarke nor Lexa noticed her presence for almost a minute was all too amusing for
her, and she finally let out a panicked snort, unable to keep it in any longer.
Clarke’s eyes burst open and she saw Raven standing at the door, now cackling with
laughter, and she yelped as she sat up and pushed Lexa away from her.
“Holy shit!”
Lexa scrambled over to grab the robe, and as she was struggling to put it on Clarke
rushed around trying to find clothes to put on. All the while, Raven was cackling,
her laughter echoing in the otherwise still and silent hallway and laundry room.
“I can’t believe you two were so horny you couldn’t bother getting your asses down
the hall into your bedroom!” Raven gasped in between fits of laughter, wiping tears
from her eyes, "This is just too good!"
“I was doing laundry.” Clarke snapped.
“Interesting nickname for your wife, laundry. Although I must say that in this
case, the laundry was quite clearly doing you.”
Clarke groaned. “Raven, _please_ shut up.”

“Clarke, my dear, when have I ever done that?”
“Just don’t tell anyone?”
“Tell anyone what?” asked another voice.
Lexa was ready to die when Anya appeared from behind Raven, a confused look on her
face. “What are you doing awake?”
“Laundry.” Clarke told her.
Raven turned to her girlfriend and grinned. “No, they were doing each other so
dirty it was beautiful.”
“Raven, what the hell are you talking about?” Anya asked. But then she looked at
Lexa, and saw she was wearing only a silk robe and a whole lot of shame on her
face. “Oh, please don’t tell me you fucked here.”
Neither Clarke nor Lexa said anything, and that was Anya’s confirmation.
“Fucking hell, Lexa. _Anyone_ could’ve walked in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lexa groaned, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you and asshole here
didn’t do it up against a tree in Clarke’s Mom’s backyard on Christmas, or
anything.”
Anya’s eyes widened, and Raven let out a snort.
“Told you they saw us,” she grinned at the older woman.
“Raven, I’m going to murder you.”
“I wasn’t the one who insisted going out for a bit of fresh air.”
“I’m going to murder you.”
“I wasn’t the one who took me against a tree. No, I distinctly recall that was you,
and I have the scratches from the tree on my back to prove it.”
Anya threw Raven a glare, and miraculously enough, that shut her up.
“I can’t believe you’d rather fuck in the laundry room than in your apartment,”
Anya sighed, shaking her head slightly at Lexa.
“Okay, _Mom_ , calm down. It’s not like we expected anyone to come in.” Lexa
laughed. “It was fine until Raven decided to walk in.”
“There isn’t even a door.”
Clarke had been quiet for a while, trying to get herself to come down from the
frustration of her ruined orgasm. She’d been on the brink when Raven had burst in,
and was now standing beside Lexa, burning with want and need for her to finish what
she’d started.
“Clarke, you ok?” Raven asked, her eyebrow raised. “You look funny.”
Clarke shot her a murderous glare. “I’m going to kill you. But first-“ she turned
around and opened the washing machine, promptly grabbing everything from inside it
and throwing it into the dryer. “You’re going to bring these to our place when
they’re done. We were in the middle of something.”
She grabbed Lexa’s hand then and led her out of the laundry room and down the hall
to their apartment, hearing the laughter echoing down from where Raven was surely
bent over dying.
“That asshole,” Clarke grumbled as she shut the door behind them, “I’m going to
kill her.”
Lexa just smirked at her over her shoulder before dropping the robe and leading
Clarke up the stairs in her underwear, knowing very well that Clarke’s eyes
couldn’t leave her body and relishing the way just looking like she did she was
able to fluster her wife. She undressed Clarke agonizingly slow before pushing her
down onto the bed and throwing her a grin.
“Now…where were we?”
> pls leave me comments i basically live on them

> this was supposed to be the whole indra thing but oops sex happened instead and
that's way better, right?
> which reminds me, i got an anon asking me if i took (smut) prompts on tumblr and
yes, yes i do
> please send me smut prompts i have developed a taste for the sin
31. Chapter 31
> ok so the show is basically done for in my case, ep 3x06 was the finale so far as
im concerned
> but nevertheless, Clexa and Lexa will live on and prevail
> so enjoy this, hopefully it will soothe your pained souls my lovelies
Clarke awoke in the morning sore and thoroughly satisfied, happy as one could be
when they were held in their wife’s arms. But that happiness was overshadowed by
dread when she remembered that they had their meeting with Indra that day, although
thankfully it was very early – barely six, in fact. The sun was just rising
outside, and the apartment was still relatively dark. Clarke found that she was
wide awake, and after pressing a gentle kiss to Lexa’s forehead she lifted her limp
arms from around her waist and slipped away and to the bathroom to take a shower.
When she returned about twenty minutes later, she began dressing herself, but was
interrupted by a muttered groan from the bed. Turning around, she was surprised to
find Lexa sitting up in bed, her face scrunched up as she tried to wake up fully.
“Why are you up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“C’mere.”
“Lexa, I can’t sleep any more.”
Her wife cocked her head slightly and studied her. “You’re worried about today’s
meeting.”
Clarke set down the shirt she had been about to put on and shrugged. “Yeah, I
guess.”
Lexa shuffled backwards to lean against the backboard of their bed and patted the
space beside her. “Come here.”
When Clarke did as asked, Lexa wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her
closer. “It’s going to be fine, you know that. Indra’s the best at what she does,
and if I have faith in her, you should too.”
Clarke shifted slightly. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“She said before that she’ll need you to tell her everything.”
“Ah.”
Clarke rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder and sighed. “I haven’t asked about it
because I didn’t want you to have to think about it, but…“
“Do you want me to tell you?”
“I don’t want to upset you by making you remember.”
Lexa sighed and pulled Clarke even closer, her hand rubbing Clarke’s shoulder
gently. “It’s fine. You’re my wife. You should hear it from me now, rather than
from me when I’m telling Indra.”
Clarke nodded and settled against her, and waited.
“You already know about Costia. And the conservatorship, and you pretty much know
what they did. But the school…”
Clarke bit her tongue to keep herself from reacting to the twinge of pain in Lexa’s
voice. She was speaking now, and she knew it had to be at least somewhat hard for
her, and was determined not to interfere.
“It was like a prison. Set up very prettily, in an old-timey mansion with a large
estate and beautiful grounds, but we weren’t allowed outside unless we had
supervision. The students who were of ‘most concern’ had gps bracelets, which was
almost all of us. The classes were fine and normal to the most part, anything what
you’d usually learn in high school. But we also had religion classes, and a class
called morals and ethics, which basically consisted of a two hour lecture about the
real family and moral promiscuity and how it degrades the very face of society.
They had two teachers in those classes; one to teach, another to watch the
student’s reactions. Anyone who grimaced or frowned or showed any form of emotion
was noted, and if you hit 3 ‘notes of concern’ you were assigned a personal tutor
for that class.”
That was where Lexa shuddered, and Clarke nuzzled herself closer to her, an arm
wrapping around Lexa’s waist in a way which Clarke knew made her feel safe.
“The personal tutor was usually a teacher, and they’d discipline you when
necessary. I thought I could get away with hiding my emotions and not reacting, but
my parents knew that and requested I be assigned a tutor anyway. And because of
that, I got the worst of it.”
Lexa drew in a sharp breath, and Clarke was almost sure she couldn’t go on any
longer; the tension in her chest and voice spoke lengths of the tears she was
fighting to keep at bay, and she wanted nothing more than to kiss her sadness away.
“She’d make me watch straight porn, and tell me to…you know. When I refused, she’d
beat me, and if I tried to stop her, she’d get someone else to help restrain me
while she did. Sometimes there were broken bones, which were written off as ‘gym
class incidents’. Always bruises and cuts, but no one really cared. We all had the
same bruises, some worse than others, but still I hid the bruises and cuts because
they only attracted the older students to make them worse. A lot of them
internalized the hatred thrown at them, and spewed it out at the weaker and younger
ones. I wasn’t weak, but I was young and small, and so I got a lot of that too. I
learned to fight them, though, and when I got to my senior year no student dared to
touch me. But I didn’t get any friends that way, either. Not that they allowed any
friendships between students.”
Lexa fell silent, and it took a while for Clarke to realize that she’d finished.
When she did, she shifted in Lexa’s arms, tried to get up to look at her, but
Lexa’s arms tightened around her and kept her pressed against her chest.
“Can you stay there?”
Lexa’s voice was quiet, pleading.
“Of course,” Clarke murmured, settling herself back onto Lexa’s chest. “Anything
you need.”
They were quiet for a while.
“You were right, it upsets me.”
Clarke cringed, and even though Lexa couldn’t see her face, she knew. A gentle hand
came up to stroke Clarke’s cheek, and Clarke found it odd that it was as though
Lexa were comforting her. It was Lexa who really needed the comforting, not Clarke.
“But it’s in the past. My broken bones have healed, and the bruises have faded, and
what I have now is you. And you’re pretty great.”
Clarke couldn’t help but snort. “Pretty great?”
Lexa grinned and loosened her hold of Clarke, allowing the blonde to climb a little
upwards to meet her lips.
“Yes, Clarke, you’re pretty great.”
Clarke rolled her eyes and kissed her again, and Lexa was surprised to find herself
blinking back tears. Clarke noticed this, and instantly grew worried.
Lexa nodded and kissed her for the third time.
“Never better.”
* * *
The Porter&Ryder legal offices were located only a short distance from their
apartment, about a twenty minute walk down towards Soho – the building itself
contained many offices and companies and such, but somehow, the P&R logo stood out
among all of them as the most prominent. They entered and were led into an
elevator, which took them up to the 24th floor. They’d worn neat clothes, unsure of
how formal this meeting actual was, and Clarke was extremely uncomfortable in her
blazer and pencil skirt – it was tight in the wrong places, and she cursed herself
for not indulging in a proper one earlier.
“Stop fiddling with your shirt, Clarke, you’re fine,” Lexa said softly as they
waited in the lobby.
“I feel like I’m playing dress-up.” Clarke grumbled, eliciting a gentle laugh from
her wife.
“Well, you most certainly look like it.”
“What?”
Lexa laughed again. “I’m just kidding. Look, she’s here.”
Indra walked over and met them with a smile, shaking both their hands firmly. “I’m
so glad you could make it. Come on, right this way.”
They were led into a pristine office overlooking the street below, and Clarke found
herself thinking back to the dozens of job interviews she’d gone to and botched
over the past six months. But this wasn’t a job interview, and there wasn’t
anything for her to really botch, and so she sat down onto the couch beside Lexa
and turned her eyes to Indra.
“Right, so. The first ‘trial’ that’s scheduled for January 7th is actually just a
preliminary hearing, so your parents won’t have much to say at this point. We will
present our case to the judge, who will then ask them if they accept or deny the
charges; whatever comes after, will be fine. We have too much material for them to
get away with it, that’s for sure. We have witnesses, transcripts, school
enrollment records and, of course, your personal statement.”
Lexa let out a breath. “I imagine that’s what this meeting is for?”
Indra nodded and brought out a tablet. “If you’re up for it, of course.”
“If it gets them out of my life, I’m up for anything.”
And so Lexa told Indra all that she had told Clarke, her voice slow and steady as
the details became painfully clear once again; to Clarke, the novelty was gone but
the pain certainly was not. Even though Lexa was able to keep steady and not waver
with her words or expressions, Clarke was truly struggling – she didn’t want Lexa
talking about this, or thinking about it; she wanted for Lexa to never have to had
gone through the shitty events that had compiled her life up until then.
She was so concentrated in keeping herself quiet that she didn’t at first realize
that she’d been asked a question.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you were ok? You look really pale.”

Clarke cleared her throat and nodded at Lexa. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “No, you’re not.” She glanced over at Indra. “Can we have
a minute?”
“No, Lexa, I’m fine. We’ll talk about it later, ok?”
Lexa nodded slowly before turning to Indra. “I feel like I covered most of the
details.”
“Yes, I’d say we have more than enough. I’d like for Clarke to give me a statement,
too.”
“Me?”
“About her parents.”
“What I thought of them?”
“What they said to you, how they acted…anything, really. The more people we can
have standing witness against them, the better.”
Clarke sat up, feeling slightly flustered, and thought for a while before speaking.
“They didn’t really speak to me at any point. I only met them once before the
annulment hearing, when they appeared at the lodge as Lexa described. After she’d
gone to the car I circled back and told them what I thought of them, and I swear,
her father was about two seconds from decking me on the spot.”
“Were you afraid?”
“Yes.”
“But nothing happened?”
“No, nothing happened.”
“And how about at the annulment hearing?”
Clarke shrugged. “They confronted me in the hall about the lawsuit. Called Lexa
stupid, and were altogether very threatening.”
“Did they verbally threaten you?”
“No.”
“But they intimidated you, nevertheless.”
The woman scribbled some notes onto her tablet before setting it down onto the
table, offering them a smile. “I rarely say this, but I have full confidence that
our case stands strong. We’ll meet again to discuss further details and go over the
case closer to the hearing, but for now, I can assure you that everything looks to
be more than fine. Unless you have any questions, of course?”
Clarke glanced at Lexa, and was surprised to hear her opening her mouth.
“Yes, actually. What if they want to settle?”
Indra looked almost pleased that Lexa had asked that. “Well, if they do, it would
be best if I had some idea of what compensation you would be wishing for.”
“I don’t want anything from them. I just want them to leave me alone.”
The woman nodded. “A restraining order, perhaps? And of course there’ll be some
form of monetary compensation offered.”
“I don’t want it,” Lexa sighed, waving her hand. “I don’t want any of it.”
“There’ll be some, nevertheless.”
“Then I’ll donate it to your group. That sound good?”
* * *
After some further details had been settled, they left the office in significantly
higher spirits than with which they’d arrived. Clarke was still in a solemn mood,
and Lexa was quiet, and so they reached their apartment with little to no
discussion shared between them at all. Once home, however, Clarke froze in the
foyer as an idea struck her. Lexa noticed this and came back to the foyer, a
curious look on her face.
“I just got an idea.”
“For what?”
“For cheering you up.”
“And what might that be?”
“Let me take you out.”
“On a date?”
Clarke scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, wife, on a date.”
“Tonight?”
“I figured we need it. You’ve had a rough day. Let me treat you.”
Lexa smiled. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you. But only if you wash your hair, it’s
positively filthy.”
“Hey!” Clarke cried. “It’s only been like three days since I last washed it!”
“Go shower.”
Clarke smirked and wrapped an arm around Lexa’s waist. “Only if you come with.”
“I washed my hair yesterday!”
“Le-exa…”
A kiss to her neck and Clarke’s body pressing against hers was all that was needed
to render Lexa’s protests useless.
“Fine.”
Clarke practically skipped to the bathroom, and shed her clothes with stunning
speed, chucking her clothes into the hamper with almost disgust on her face.
“I hate pencil skirts,” Clarke grumbled when she saw Lexa’s curious look. “Now get
yourself out of those clothes.”
But Lexa just walked up to her, a grin on her face, and raised a hand to grab
Clarke’s chin gently. “How about you do that for me?”
Clarke let out a tiny whimper, and was more than happy to oblige; as their mouths
melded together, her fingers undid the buttons of Lexa’s shirt, and slipped it off
of her shoulders. Lexa was pleased to find Clarke was wanting as much as she was,
and when her wife knelt before her to pull down her skirt and stockings, she
couldn’t help the desire for Clarke to move her mouth just slightly forward to meet
with her center. But the blonde stood up instead, and grabbed her hand, dragging
her along to the shower.
The hot water slid along their bodies, and Lexa took that time to fully appreciate
Clarke’s form; she had familiarized herself with it very well, but seeing and
touching it never grew old for her. And now there was hot water and _soap_ and
everything was slippery and wet in more ways than one, and it was essentially like
a fantasy – except it was reality, and Lexa was there, with her hands on Clarke’s
breasts and her mouth against hers, tongues meeting and melding and hips grinding
against hips. Moans and whimpers echoed in the bathroom as Lexa’s thigh pressed
against Clarke’s core, and the blonde slowly found a comfortable rhythm to grind to
while Lexa’s hands roamed her body, her lips never leaving hers.
“Come on, Clarke, are you really going to get yourself off so quickly?” Lexa
chuckled, noticing Clarke’s whimpers becoming more persistent. Her hand slid down
to dip into the slick wetness, and she quirked an eyebrow at her wife. “Or would
you rather me do it?”
Clarke groaned and kissed her again, and Lexa did not bother teasing her; two
fingers slipped in with too much ease, and so she added in a third, and soon Clarke
was pinned against the cool shower wall, Lexa’s fingers driving deep into her as
cries and whimpers escaped her lips with each push and jolt of pleasure. Lexa’s
teeth were nipping at her neck, biting into it, leaving marks which Clarke was all
too happy to accept.
She was so close to the brink, too close even – but then Lexa yelped, and her
fingers slipped out of her as her foot slid on the soapy tiles. She only barely
caught herself before she fell, and took a few breaths to steady herself before
looking at Clarke, who was _glaring_ at her.
“You…you…”
Lexa couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry,” she managed in between fits of
laughter, “Clarke, I’m so sorry, I-“
But Clarke’s lips found hers, hungry and demanding, and this time it was Lexa who
found herself pinned against the shower wall. “You fucking idiot.”
Lexa chuckled, but her amusement was lost when Clarke’s hand dug into her waist and
fingers found their way to her sex. She shivered when Clarke swirled a finger or
two around her clit just a few times, the sensation building her already unbearable
arousal to new heights.
“I’m gonna take it out on you,” Clarke growled as she slipped two fingers inside
Lexa, “You know that, right?”
Lexa was about to respond, but a thumb pressed onto her clit and a whimper left her
lips instead; Clarke only chuckled victoriously, and silenced her wife’s sounds of
pleasure with her tongue.
It took only a minute or two before Lexa was on the brink, and Clarke knew this
very well – just when she was about to cum, Clarke let go, stepping away from Lexa
altogether, and the pained whimper that left Lexa’s mouth was too precious.
“What-“
Clarke just smirked. “I’m petty. Now finish me off.”
Lexa groaned. “Clarke, you-“
“Le-exa…” Clarke coaxed, pushing her breasts together and throwing Lexa a look she
knew the brunette couldn’t resist. “I need you.”
“We’ve been in the shower for like an hour.”
“So? Divide that by two and it’s only half an hour each.”
“Think about the planet, Clarke.”
“Think about my needs, Lexa.”
> i gave you fluff, i gave you potential for drama, i gave you a little bit of
heartache and a little bit more than a little of smut. hope you guys are recovering
well from last night's bullshit.
> on the bright side, CLEXA DATE TOMORROW WHO'S READY FOR THAT
> don't forget to leave kudos and comments, and you guys are more than welcome to
come talk to me @clexy-polarbear on tumblr
> i love you all and #lexalives5ever
32. Chapter 32
> once again, i'm not stopping my writing unless titus breaks down the 4th wall and
kills me too because Lexa lives on
> don't be too sad my children, I'm doing all I can to write as happy and cutesy
fluff for you so that it might provide some solace to you
Clarke looked absolutely stunning. She was wearing a form-fitting dark blue dress
with a low-cut back and ample cleavage on the front, and her heels made her legs
look absolutely divine; her freshly washed hair was tied up in a neat bundle of
curls at the nape of her neck, and she had really gone all out with her makeup. Red
lips and darkly shaded eyes, almost shocking with their intensity, that was what
made Lexa feel weak and wanting for nothing more than to have her out of the dress
and fucking her – but they were on a date, on their way to a restaurant, and she
had to stash her desire for later. Lexa couldn’t help but stare in awe at her wife
as they got out of the cab and walked into the restaurant Clarke had picked, and
she was so focused on the blonde leading her that she failed to even take notice of
where they’d gone. Only after they’d stepped in and were standing as the waiter set
up their table did she truly look around, and was awestruck by just how beautiful
the quaint little restaurant was. There were lanterns and fairy lights strung up in
the ceiling, and the walls were papered with old-timey flower wallpaper which made
Lexa feel like she’d stepped a hundred years back in time; there were candles on
every table, and some hung from the ceiling as well.
“What is this place again?” She asked quietly.
“A cute little French restaurant with an incredibly complicated name,” Clarke

answered her with a smile. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
The waiter came then, and led them to their table. After he’d collected their coats
and taken their drink order, he left the two of them to decide on what to eat.
“You’ve been here before?” Lexa asked Clarke. “Seems like a place that you have to
stumble upon.”
“Yeah, I- I saw this place once, but I’ve never actually been inside. I just passed
it one time and thought it was cute.”
Lexa smiled. “You’re cute.”
The smile was returned, and for a while, they just stared at each other. But then
Clarke recalled the emptiness of her stomach, and chuckled at the twinkling
laughter in Lexa’s eyes.
“Pick your food, I’m starving.”
Lexa ordered herself roast duck while Clarke opted for the coq au vin, and after a
while of debating Clarke allowed Lexa to choose the wine for the both of them.
Everything was comfortable and happy, and very romantic, as Lexa continued to point
out.
“A candle-lit dinner,” she sighed after she’d savored the last bite of her meal,
“And I can’t believe you made fun of me for being a romantic.”
“I only brought you here because I knew you’d love it.”
Lexa laughed gently, her eyes never leaving Clarke, whose finger was slowly tracing
along the rim of her wine glass. “Only because of that? So this is what, a gruesome
task for you?”
Clarke scoffed. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. This is so cheesy it’s
disgusting.”
“You love it.”
And the smile that stretched onto Clarke’s painted lips revealed that it was indeed
true, and Lexa laughed again.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Clarke chuckled. “A cute idiot, but still.”
“Well I’d say that makes two of us. There’s no way I’m any more of an idiot than
you are.”
“I’m great.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot.”
The waiter came by and took away their plates, and they sat back as they waited for
their dessert and finished off their wine. The alcohol was just enough to get them
tipsy, and neither of them were fully aware of anyone other than each other;
Clarke’s eyes were darting back and forth between Lexa’s eyes and Lexa’s lips, but
the candle set so conveniently in between the two of them prevented her from
reaching across the table and meeting her lips with her wife’s.
“What are you thinking about?”
Clarke shrugged. “Kissing you.”
And Lexa _giggled_. Clarke was so surprised she let out a laugh herself, and for a
while, she just stared at Lexa open-mouthed whilst her wife gaped at her in
surprise.
“Lexa, that was so _cute._ ”
Lexa rolled her eyes, slightly embarrassed, but you couldn’t have told the
difference between the red of embarrassment or the red of the wine on her cheeks.
“Shut up.”
“It was so-“
The waiter came back then, and Clarke bit her tongue as a beautifully constructed
slice of French apple pie was set down before her. Lexa had opted for the crème
brulee, and it looked and smelled absolutely divine. Clarke had also ordered
herself a small espresso, and Lexa shook her head just slightly as her eyes lit up
upon seeing the neatly decorated cup of coffee. She herself had ordered herself a
small glass of dessert wine.
“Oh, this is absolutely delicious,” she sighed, swirling the amber red liquid in
the small crystal glass.
“Can I have a taste?”
Lexa handed the glass over, and Clarke took a sip and grimaced. “It’s disgusting,
what are you talking about?”
“I suppose it’s an acquired taste,” Lexa smiled as she took back the glass. “Trust
me, it’s delightful.”
“Tastes like fire. I’ll stick my coffee, thank you very much.”
Lexa sipped from her glass again, twirling her spoon between her fingers. “Do you
want to play 20 questions?”
Clarke, who had just put a mouthful of pie in her mouth, held up a finger and took
her time to swallow before answering. “What are you, 15?”
Lexa shrugged and finally indulged in a bite of her dessert. “I don’t know,” she
said, “I want to get to know you.”
“Don’t you know plenty?”
“We’re married, Clarke, but the fact remains we’ve only been ‘dating’ for about a
month. I’d like to know the little details, like your favorite color and your
favorite band. That stuff.”
Clarke just smiled. “That’s sweet.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Will you play?”
“Sure, why not. You go first.”
“Ok, favorite color.”
“Blue. Yours?”
“Red. Cats or dogs?”
“Dogs.”
“Good, me too.”
“Best band?”
Lexa actually had to think about it for a second before answering. “I guess Halsey,
even though she’s not really a band.”
Clarke grinned. “I knew you were a Halsey girl. All nostalgia and pining looks, you
are.”
“Shut up.”
“Am I wrong?”
Lexa frowned and took a long sip from her drink. “No, you’re not wrong.”
“Ok, ask me a question. This is fun.”
Lexa let Clarke wait as she took a few bites of her dessert. “This is really good.”
Without even asking, Clarke’s hand darted forward and her spoon snuck a large scoop
of crème brulee before Lexa could even protest.
“Hey!”
Clarke just grinned and put the spoon in her mouth, not breaking eye-contact as she
licked it clean and let out a low moan. “It’s delicious.”
Lexa stared at her, open-mouthed, more aware than ever of the fact that there were
people sitting around them within earshot. What Clarke had just said and done had
caused a rush of heat in between her thighs, and she cursed quietly under her
breath.
“Is there something wrong, babe?” Clarke asked, feigning innocence despite knowing
exactly what she was doing to the squirming brunette across from her. The blush on
Lexa’s cheeks was not from her drinks; no, she knew very well that it was all
because of her, and when her foot touched Lexa’s, she was too pleased to see the
brunette jump.
“Clarke.”
But Clarke just grinned and slid her foot along Lexa’s leg, only a gentle brush but
more than capable of causing the pink on Lexa’s cheeks to darken just slightly.
“Clarke, don’t.”
Clarke withdrew, but the coy smile and taunting look in her eyes did not. “You’re
ruining my fun.”
“And you’re making me want to do things I _cannot_ do in a restaurant full of

people.”
“That’s exactly my intention, Lexa. You like taunting me, and I like taunting you.
And it’s just too easy.” She took another bite of her pie, and couldn’t help but
smile when she saw how frustrated Lexa was.
“Come on," she added with a smile, "If you finish up your food, I’ll give you a
real dessert somewhere more private."
They rushed through the remaining bites of their dessert, and left a generous tip
to the waiter because he had been very pleasant to them that evening; upon leaving,
they remembered to thank the owner before finally putting on their coats and
scarves, changing their heels out for more comfortable shoes(they’d come prepared)
and venturing out into the chilly December evening. It was too cold for them to
hold hands, so they hooked arms and kept their hands in their own respective
pockets, and walked down streets still lit with Christmas lights and full of people
wandering around aimlessly like they were.
“Somewhere private, huh?” Lexa asked after a while. Clarke just chuckled, and her
breath billowed in the crispy winter air.
“You’ll have to wait till we get home.”
Lexa sighed. “Fine.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Clarke, you look _amazing_. I want you now.”
“I know I do. But you forget, you’re wearing the same red dress you were wearing
when we first met. I’d say I’m even more taunted than you are, considering I can
remember lifting up your dress and-“
“Shut up, don’t remind me, I’m trying not to be so frustrated as it is.”
But Clarke stopped them, and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I lifted the skirt
up to your waist and pushed your hips to the wall, and the first time my tongue ran
along you, you groaned so loudly I’m sure all of Vegas heard. You were so wanting,
grinding against my mouth…and you tasted amazing.”
Lexa shuddered. “You’re cruel, you know that?”
But Clarke just laughed, and started walking again, dragging along a now extremely
flustered Lexa. “Come on, let’s walk around. We only got through like 5 questions.”
Lexa grumbled, but found herself enjoying the walk as it was; they exchanged
questions back and forth, and she really did learn a lot about Clarke. Like how her
favorite food was egg rolls on pizza, and how she never sang because her music
teacher had told her in first grade that her voice sounded weird; she in turn told
Clarke about how she’d started her interest in philosophy, and how she’d taken some
classes on the side in Harvard and wished that she could’ve majored in it
altogether. She told Clarke about the first time her nanny taught her to ride a
bike, in secret from her parents, and how much she’d loved it; she told Clarke her
favorite movies, her favorite shows, her worst nightmares and fears and just about
everything. And Clarke told her those same things.
They were on their way back home, having walked across half of New York, walking
along a well-lit and busier street on Manhattan, with people bustling around them
as though Christmas shopping was still relevant.
“Ok, so answer me one last question.”
“We hit 20 an hour ago.”
“So?”
“Ok, ask away.”
“What’s your favorite memory?”
Lexa didn’t even hesitate. “Today.”
“Today?”
“Yes, today.”
“Of all the things that have happened, today is the best memory you have?”
Lexa chuckled at Clarke’s surprise. “Is it really that surprising?”
“But why today?”
“Because this is what I’ve wanted for so long, Clarke. A wife, you, and a home. And
just peace. We’re happy, and this date has been the best I’ve been on so far, and
you’re so beautiful it almost hurts to look at you, and I just…I love you so much.”
They’d come to stop in front of the door to their apartment building. Clarke was
smiling, as was Lexa, and no words were needed when their lips met, soft and loving
and almost chaste in their intention; this was a kiss of pure love, one meant to
pour the love they felt for the other through the contact with no underlying lust
or demand. It was just a kiss, and yet it was the kiss that meant the most to them;
it was _the_ kiss that consolidated it all, a kiss which they had shared a
multitude of times but which never ceased to amaze them.
“I love you too,” Clarke whispered as she pulled away, her mitten-clad hand
slipping into Lexa’s and pulling her along to their home. The instant they got into
the elevator, the dazed loving expression on her face changed over to pure and
unbridled lust, and she pinned Lexa against the wall, her lips trailing hot kisses
along her neck as she whispered:
“This is somewhere private, isn’t it?”
Lexa groaned and leaned into Clarke’s touch, but the next second they reached their
floor, and the two of them practically ran down the hall and to their apartment.
“Let me have you tonight,” Clarke murmured, her hips pressing into Lexa’s and
pinning her against the wall of their bedroom, “I want to worship you. I _need_ to,
I want to make you feel good and let you just lay back and take it all, I-“
Lexa’s lips crashed against hers and silenced her for a while before they pulled
away. “Shut up, Clarke, and fuck me.”
Clarke hummed and pushed her even tighter against the wall, her hand bringing one
leg up to straddle her waist while the other was fisted in curly brown hair, demand
and hunger evident in every movement of her body. Lexa whimpered at Clarke’s need
to satisfy her, unable to keep herself from feeling so deliciously weak at her
wife’s hands; she’d been aroused for hours, and was now receiving that
satisfaction, and all she could think about was the way Clarke’s tongue had licked
the spoon clean back at the restaurant and the coy look that had been in her eye
all evening.
“You know,” Clarke said amidst kisses, “I’m thinking we should cash in that gift
card Raven got us.”
It took a while for Lexa to form a coherent answer. “Really?”
Clarke hummed. “Yeah. I kinda like the idea of fucking you with a toy.”
Lexa’s mind cleared just enough for her to ask: “You’ve been thinking about that?”
A kiss to her lips was her answer, but she pushed Clarke slightly away, a coy look
now in her own eye. “You fantasize about me?”
Clarke let out a growl and kissed her again, laced her fingers with Lexa’s and
pinned her hands above her head. “Maybe.”
Her thigh pressed against Lexa’s core, and Lexa couldn’t help the slight grinding
motion that started not long after. Even with the overwhelming desire to give in to
the pleasure and let Clarke ravish her, she fought to form words with her mouth
amidst the whimpers.
“Tell me what you fantasize about.”
Clarke hummed and pulled away, one hand unzipping Lexa’s dress while the other
worked it over her shoulders and off of her entirely. When she saw that Lexa was
wearing the exact same underwear as she had in Vegas, she just about died; memory
mixed with reality, and she was so aroused by the sight that she surely would have
melted.
But she didn’t. Instead, she took Lexa’s hand, and led her to the bed, where she
laid her down and climbed over her straddling her hips and sitting back to admire
the view before her. Lexa was lying on the bed, her eyes staring at her with pure
lust, mouth slightly open and ragged breaths leaving her lips which were so roughly
kissed that they were pink and puffy. Clarke then gave her a smirk and unzipped her
own dress, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion, and was pleased to hear
the appreciative sigh that escaped Lexa’s lips when she did. If there was one thing
Lexa was weak for, it was striptease, and Clarke had already gotten her so riled up
with her coy looks and subtle whispers that just the sight of her skin baring for
her inch by inch made her entire body shudder with need. Clarke saw this and
grinned slyly before grinding her hips against Lexa’s, and the movement caused
pleasure to course through her own body. Lexa’s hands came to her hips, and for a
moment, Clarke just stayed there, grinding on her, knowing it was not enough to
give Lexa any physical pleasure – only visual, and of that there was plenty.
“I want to get us a strap-on,” she began telling Lexa, “And I want to fuck you with
it. I want to bend you over and fuck you, and fill you, have you whimpering and
moaning as I take you. I want to take you and make you mine.”
Lexa licked her lips, so incredibly turned on by Clarke’s words. “We’ll do that,”
she breathed as Clarke moved on lower to lay over her and start kissing her neck,
“I want you to do that.”
Clarke bit into soft skin, and Lexa let out a tiny yelp, but moments later the pain
was soothed by Clarke’s tongue, warm and wet against her skin. “Tell me what you
want, Lexa, and I’ll do it.”
Lexa gasped, surprised by Clarke’s voice so husky in her ear, and for a while, she
failed to respond.
“Is that a no altogether?”
“No, god, Clarke- I just-“
“Tell me what you’d like,” Clarke hummed, her breath warm against Lexa’s skin.
“Your wish is my command.”
Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat, and she only barely managed to whimper her
want. “I want you between my legs. Your mouth, Clarke, I need it.”
But Clarke wasn’t done teasing her. She shuffled downwards and wrapped her arms
around Lexa’s legs, bringing her closer to her mouth, but didn’t touch, didn’t
lick; no, she locked eyes with her wife, and raised her eyebrows.
“And what do you want me to do with my mouth?”
Lexa groaned and pushed her head downward, fingers gripping around Clarke’s blonde
locks as her mouth eagerly met with her sex. Clarke just chuckled and ran her
tongue up along folds which she was so familiar with, and when her lips enclosed
around Lexa’s clit and sucked just slightly, the long groan that escaped Lexa’s
lips was too delicious for her to ever forget. Lexa’s hands on her head and in her
hair were firm and would not let Clarke move away – although she wouldn’t have
wanted to move away, not in a million years. All that mattered to her now was
Lexa’s pleasure, and she was all too glad to provide that to her beautiful wife.
When it reached the point where Lexa was mindlessly grinding against Clarke’s
mouth, she slipped two fingers in, surprising Lexa with a new dimension to her
pleasure and being rewarded with a long moan.
“Fuck, Clarke-“
Clarke curled her fingers inside Lexa and began pumping them in and out of her, all
the while increasing speed with her mouth. She could feel Lexa’s legs shaking where
they rested on her shoulders, and the whimpers that left Lexa’s lips were beautiful
and so arousing to Clarke that she almost climaxed herself from the sheer
anticipation and pleasure which giving Lexa her satisfaction gave her.
“Oh my-“
And then Lexa came crashing down, her climax long and beautiful, and Clarke never
moved away until Lexa pulled her away by her hair. Clarke then rested her chin on
Lexa’s stomach, a victorious grin on her face, her lips and mouth glistening with
Lexa’s arousal.
“Did I do good?”
Lexa was laying on the bed, entirely spent, so relaxed and so satisfied that she
was sure she wouldn’t be able to return the favor for Clarke. “You were amazing and
you know it.”
Clarke chuckled and climbed back to lay over her, and kissed her softly.
“You taste like me,” Lexa mumbled, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “I like it.”
“Glad you do.”
“I want to taste you, Clarke.”
“Then do.”
“But you’ve rendered me incapable of movement.”
Clarke shot her a smirk. “Do you really think you have to move to eat me out?”
Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “Most probably, yes?”
“Oh Lexa,” Clarke chuckled. “You’re so innocent.”
And then she sat up and swiftly slid her underwear off before shuffling to kneel
above Lexa’s face. The surprise on Lexa’s face was amusing, but that only lasted a
split second before Lexa’s hands pushed Clarke’s hips downward and a tongue met
with the dripping wetness of her sex, and all else slipped away. Lexa was slow and
deliberate with her tongue, and Clarke slowly began moving her hips against her
mouth; one hand gripped the headboard of their bed almost desperately to keep
herself steady, whilst the other was fisted in Lexa’s hair as waves of pleasure ran
through her veins from where Lexa’s tongue was dancing on her most sensitive
places. The sight of Lexa beneath her, of Lexa’s mouth on her and the sheer
pleasure that was evident in Lexa’s eyes only added to her bliss, and Clarke could
only barely hold her composure.
The heat grew and grew until it was no longer heat but just burning pleasure, and
by that point, Clarke was whimpering and gasping for air, so close to the climax
but yet so far. It was agonizing how slow Lexa was being, firmly and determinedly
building Clarke up to the finish but not in the rough and quick manner which Clarke
in that instant wished for.
Lexa knew what Clarke wanted, and was deliberate in not doing exactly that. After
all, Clarke had taunted her for hours during the dinner and the walk. She was going
to take at least some of that back with an agonizingly slow climax.
And when she finally did grant Clarke her well-earned release, the blonde let out
such a beautifully pure moan that Lexa felt arousal build up within her again.
Clarke’s hair gripped at her hair, almost a little painful, but her hips grinded
against Lexa’s mouth, her sex dripping with arousal for Lexa so much that when she
finally did pull away, her mouth and chin were entirely wet. After quickly wiping
her mouth on the sheets, she crawled over to lay on one side of the bed as Clarke
laid down beside her, cheeks pink and lips parted as she breathed slowly and
heavily.
“That was…” Clarke breathed, but was unable to finish her sentence. Lexa’s finger
ran up along her side and up to her chin, which it lifted just slightly for Lexa to
be able to meet her lips.
“Amazing, that’s what it was,” Lexa murmured. “You’re amazing.”
“I love you.”
Lexa grinned and kissed Clarke again. “I love you too.”
Clarke sighed and flopped over to lay on her back. “Is it weird that I still find
myself getting shocked over the fact that we’re married?”
“That depends. Is it a good kind of shock, or a ‘I have to run away now’ kind of
shock?”
Clarke laughed. “It’s a good kind of shock, Lexa. I don’t think I’d ever want to
run away from you.”
“Good, cause I’d hunt you down.” Lexa murmured as she crawled over to lay on
Clarke’s chest. Her fingers traced circles around Clarke’s perfectly round and
beautiful breasts as she sighed and continued: “I get shocked too, sometimes. It’s
just so sudden.”
“And I never thought I’d be married in the first place.”
“What did you plan for?” Lexa asked. “How did you see your future, before all of
this – all of me – happened?”
Clarke shrugged and nuzzled her head against Lexa’s. “I don’t know. I was trying to
focus on getting a job. But I always planned on being alone, and on just focusing
on my art.”
Lexa nodded, and before she could say anything, Clarke spoke.
“How about you?”
“Clarke, you know I had no future whatsoever before you came along.” Lexa sighed.
“I know, I meant now. What do you want from our future?”
Lexa thought about it for a while. “I just want to be happy. I want to be with you,
and for you to be happy with me, and for us to have a nice home. And I guess I’m
going to take the job at Porter&Ryder, but maybe someday I’ll take some more
classes on philosophy. Maybe I’ll go back to school.”
Clarke smiled. “That sounds nice. But what about other things? Like where we’ll
live. Do you want to live in New York?”
“Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“But are you happy in New York? And don’t give me that ‘wherever you’re happy, I’m
happy’ bullshit. I want to know what _you_ want, Lexa.”
“Yes, Clarke, I’m happy in New York. But maybe someday we could think about moving
to San Francisco.”
“San Francisco?”
“Indra offered me a position at a new office that they’re opening up there. It’d be
a leading position, and frankly, I’m interested.”
Clarke smiled. “Sounds nice. I liked it when we visited.”
“And it’s got a strong artist community, too. So you could get involved there.”
“I’d be open to moving to San Francisco.”
“I don’t want to take you away from your friends, though.”
“Lexa, if you want to go to San Francisco, then we’ll go to San Francisco. Skype
exists, and you saw how eagerly Raven drove across the country to see me. It’ll be
fine.”
“You sure?”
Clarke nodded. “Anything you want. You’re my wife. Your happiness is my happiness.”
Lexa sighed contently and shuffled upwards so that she could press her face into
Clarke’s neck. It was her favorite place to be; with her hand resting on Clarke’s
neck, she could feel her pulse, and her nose pressed up to her skin she could feel
and smell Clarke’s essence all around her. One leg was thrown over Clarke’s,
bringing their naked bodies even closer, and Clarke’s arm was around her waist,
keeping her firmly in place and making her feel secure.
“You’re such a great wife,” she mumbled, feeling drowsiness overtake her. “I really
do love you.”
Clarke sighed and settled better onto the bed. Her eyes had been closed for awhile
now, and she too was falling asleep.
“I really do love you, too. You’re the best wife ever.”
> HOW CUTE WAS THAT DATE

> AND HOW HOT WAS THAT SMUT
> AREN'T YOU PROUD OF ME
> in all honesty, though, i might have a few-chapter interlude of fluff and smut
before i continue with the plot because you guys deserve some window of pure and
unshadowed bliss
> although i will continue repeating this, all my fics have happy endings and
minimal angst (except And They Met Again but that one has several warnings about
how sad it is)
> if any of you are in need of someone to talk to, hit me up @clexy-polarbear on
tumblr
33. Chapter 33
“Ok, what are you going to wear tonight?”
Lexa groaned and threw a pillow in Clarke’s general direction. It was far too early
in her opinion – just barely 8 am – but Clarke was already up and rummaging through
their wardrobe.
“Clarke, it’s 8 in the morning.”
“I know, but Raven has plans for us and they start at noon. Last 12 hours of 2015
or some bullshit like that, I don’t know, but I need to wash and dry my hair before
that and you should, too.”
“If that means together, then I’m fine. But not yet.”
Clarke chuckled and walked out of the closet, a small pile of dresses in her hand.
She dumped the whole pile on top of Lexa, who yelped in protest and buried herself
further under the covers.
“You’re so not a morning person,” Clarke chuckled as she pulled her shirt over her
head. “It’s adorable and annoying.”
“You’re just plain annoying.”
“Oh hush, look over here and tell me which one I should wear.”
Lexa peeked from under the covers and saw that Clarke was standing before her in
only her panties, two dresses in her hand.
“Okay, so it’s either this one,” Clarke said, placing a dark blue, skin-tight
strapless dress on herself, “Or this one.” The dark blue she exchanged for a black
dress with a flowier skirt and tight waist, and Lexa remembered this one had
enticing cutouts in the back. She’d been there when Clarke had bought it, but had
yet to see it on her at any event. It wasn’t really like they had many chances for
fancy dress.
“I’d take the or,” she smirked. Clarke just groaned and rolled her eyes.
“The black dress," Lexa answered as she reached over for her phone. "Oh, Indra says
the preliminary trial is canceled. Something about overbooking of the court rooms."
Clarke gaped at Lexa for a long while. "How are you so nonchalant about that?"
Lexa threw her a smile. "I'm still half asleep. And it's good news, anyway."
Clarke then shrugged and looked at the dresses again. "You're sure the black one is
better?"
"Yes, the black one."
“Really? Don’t you like the blue one?”
“The black dress makes it easier for shenanigans.” Lexa yawned as she said that,
and finally sat up in bed, the bun her hair had once been in just barely composed.
“Black dress it is.”
Lexa got out of bed and walked over to the closet to pull out her silk robe,
wrapping it around her naked body before smirking at Clarke.
“I’ll go make us food. You go shower.”
“Won’t you join me?”
Lexa looked at Clarke, just slightly pouting and looking far too adorable. “You’re
too lazy to wash your own hair, aren’t you?”
“No, I just want you.”
“You want me to wash your back.”
“Well, it _is_ much easier when someone else washes your hair for you-“ Clarke
smiled. “Come on, I’ll wash your hair, and you’ll wash mine. Please.”
Lexa walked over to where Clarke was leaning on the bathroom doorframe and placed
her hands on her wife’s hips, pulling them closer to hers. “Fine, fine. You didn’t
have to beg.”
* * *
At precisely one minute past midday, Raven came knocking at their door.
“You guys ready?” She asked when the door was swung open, revealing Clarke and
Lexa, all dressed up and certainly ready to go. But she barged in, dragging along a
begrudging Anya, and went over to the kitchen to place a bottle of vodka and four
plastic shot-glass necklaces on the counter.
“Here. Your official tokens for the Drink-fest of 2015.”
She took the vodka bottle and attempted to open it, only to wince in pain when her
wrist couldn’t give enough force for her to be able to open the tight cap. Anya
immediately looked at her in concern, her annoyed expression changing over to
softness.
“Raven, you ok?”
Raven just groaned and handed her the bottle. “This is your fault. Now open the
damn bottle.”
Clarke looked at Raven, open-mouthed. “Is your wris-“
But Clarke was overjoyed. “And you made fun of _me_ for having a sore wrist!”
Lexa was giggling too, as was Clarke, but Anya was yet to quite catch up. She put
the now-open bottle onto the counter and took Raven’s hand into hers, cool fingers
running over her wrist. “What’s wrong with your wrist?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “You should know, it’s your fault.”
And that was when Anya caught up. “You-“
“Yes, Anya, this is because of last night.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to ruin your fun,” Raven shrugged. “Besides, it was _totally_ worth
it,” she added with a wink to Clarke.
“Raven, you’re an idiot.”
“No, I’m a genius. Besides, you all love me, don’t you?”
Clarke nodded. “Right, so what are we doing today?”
“We,” Raven began, “Are getting drunk.”

She poured the vodka in each of the shot glasses and handed one to each.
“Well, I guess drink up.” Clarke shrugged. She downed the shot, as did the rest of
them. Clarke coughed almost immediately as the alcohol burned her mouth, and Lexa
let out a pained whimper as she tried to deal with the disgusting taste; Anya, on
the other hand, showed no reaction whatsoever, and Raven was just having a swell
time altogether.
“Happy New Years,” Lexa coughed. “I’m paying for the rest of our drinks, I’m _not_
drinking whatever cheap moonshine that was.”
“Hey!” Raven interjected. “This is the same vodka that got Clarke hammered enough
to not remember that she’d gotten the call informing her of you. I’m recreating the
beautiful night.”
“Raven, do you not remember what happened the morning after?” Clarke asked. The
alcohol still burned at her throat, but a warmth was now growing in her chest and
belly, fiery and hot and intoxicating in it’s nature. “It was so painful.”
“But did you die?”
* * *
Fast forward a couple of hours, and they were all gloriously drunk, dancing the
night away at some club not far from their apartment on Manhattan. There were far
too many people in the club for any of them to be comfortable, but they were drunk,
and having fun, and the room was spinning for everyone.
Lexa hadn’t ever really been to clubs, and Clarke knew this and took extra care to
make sure she was comfortable; thankfully they were in a gay club, a new experience
on it’s own to Lexa, but this ensured that there were no straight men for them to
ward off.
Or so they thought. Clarke was a little ways’ off when she suddenly turned her head
to find a man, a tall and burly one at that, shamelessly grinding on Lexa, who was
trying to push him away. Clarke only heard part of ‘come on, loosen up’ before her
fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying to the floor.
“Don’t touch my wife,” Clarke snarled, receiving supportive cries and laughter from
the crowd surrounding them.
“Yeah, go away, asshole!”
The man stood and scurried away, and Clarke then turned to Lexa, who was staring at
her with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?”
And that was when it hit Lexa, all at once.
She remembered Vegas.
Clarke didn’t realize that; no, what she saw was the shock in Lexa’s eyes and the
blood draining from her face, and she quickly stepped in to wrap an arm around her
in case she was fainting. “Come on, let’s get you out of this crowd,” she muttered.
Lexa nodded and allowed Clarke to lead her off the dance floor and into a quieter
nook of the club, although even there it was still very loud.
Clarke eyed Lexa carefully, worry evident in her expression, but knew not what to
say. “Lexa?”
The brunette smiled then, and surprised Clarke entirely when her hands pushed her
hips into the wall and her red lips claimed hers.
“What-“ Clarke tried, but Lexa kissed her again, with hunger Clarke had only
encountered once before.
_Vegas._
Lexa’s tongue was tipped with alcohol, and her own head swam with the same drinks;
Lexa was wearing the same red dress she had been wearing that day, and her lipstick
looked and _tasted_ the same.
“I remember,” Lexa murmured in between crushing kisses, “I remember Vegas.”
That shocked Clarke so much that she pushed Lexa’s face away altogether. “What?”
Lexa locked eyes with her, pupils dark and large with both drunkenness and lust.
“What you said to him, and what you asked me – it was exactly the same. All we need
to do now is have sex in the bathroom.”
Clarke was still gaping at her. “You remember?”
“Not all, but parts. You were wearing a cobalt blue dress. I haven’t seen that one
on you yet.”
“Yeah, it got ripped a few months later. Had to scrap it.” Clarke explained. “But
you remember?”
Lexa’s lips claimed hers, and a whimper left Clarke’s mouth when her fingers dug
into her waist, almost painful but not quite – Lexa was in need, demanding her,
wanting her, _hungry_ for her in almost the exact same way she’d been in Vegas, and
Clarke then gave into the sensation altogether.
“Bathroom?”
Lexa nodded, and together they stumbled down the hall and to the bathroom. But upon
entering they were confronted with muffled moans and whimpers, and it wasn’t just
that – no, Clarke recognized the voice creating those whimpers, and instantly
turned Lexa around and ushered her out.
“What? I thoug-“ Lexa slurred in her confusion.
“Raven and Anya are fucking in there. Need to find some other place.”
Lexa took Clarke’s hand and whirled her around, lips claiming hers hungrily once
again. “Where?”
They did in time find another bathroom, this one with a lock on the door, and
Clarke only barely managed to lock it before she found herself pinned against the
wall, Lexa’s hands holding her wrists and pinning them on both sides of her head as
red lips claimed pink.
“I’m going to fuck you like I did in Vegas,” Lexa murmured as she trailed kisses
down along Clarke’s neck, teeth grazing her soft skin, “Because I remember now, and
you failed to tell me just how _hot_ it was.”
Clarke whimpered as Lexa’s knee pressed to her front, the arousal within her
growing to unbearable heights. Even so, she forced herself to regain herself and
lock eyes with Lexa, a sly smile on her lips.
“If we’re going to do it like in Vegas, I’m going to have to go first.”
Lexa growled and pushed her harder against the wall. “You’re forgetting that I went
first.”
Clarke did not honestly recall that, and so she was surprised long enough for Lexa
to take all the control. A hand pressed to her core, sandwiched tightly between
their two bodies, and a whimper left her lips as teeth sank into her skin. “I
fucked you first, Clarke,” Lexa murmured as she pressed soft kisses where her teeth
had left a mark, “I fucked you, and left a mark right here, and I’m going to do it
again.”
Clarke’s dress had ridden up to her waist, and Lexa’s fingers now slid under the
soft fabric of her panties and to meet with the dripping wetness between her
thighs. Her fingers were acquainted with her now, with every spot and graze which
she knew would get her what she wanted.
And what she wanted was Clarke, begging her to fuck her, to take her, and that was
what she had. It only took a few expertly timed swirls of her thumb against
Clarke’s clit as her two fingers fucked her for Clarke to be gripping her
shoulders, one leg straddling her waist, lips parted in a silent plea for more, for
it all, and Lexa gave her what she wanted.
“Please, Lexa-“ Clarke breathed, “I need-“
“More?” Lexa asked, her voice sly and knowing. A third finger entered the mix, and
Clarke then truly did moan as she felt Lexa’s fingers fill her just enough for it
to be perfectly pleasurable and wet and hot.
“Fuck, yes.”
> sorry to cut it off like this, it's going to be so much longer though so tune in
for the next one (had to prioritize exams over this)
> BUT LEXA REMEMBERS VEGAS ISN'T THAT EXCITING
34. Chapter 34
> i know some of you are burning to get back to the plot but New Year's is
important and also I am trying to fix you guys with all the smut and fluff ya can
get
> ALSO THIS FIC TURNED 1 MONTH TODAY HOW COOL IS THAT
_"Fuck, yes.”_
Lexa grinned as she put her hips behind her hand, thrusting upwards and causing
Clarke to actually cry out – they both knew how similar this was to Vegas, how
almost _exactly_ like it the whole scene was – and the memory mixing with reality
was all too enticing, adding to their pleasure and raising it to new heights.
Muscles tightened around fingers, and Clarke’s moan died in her throat when Lexa’s
mouth and tongue crashed against hers; Lexa wanted to hear her moans muffled in her
mouth, to feel Clarke cum around her fingers and to be overwhelming her with all
she had when she did – and that was exactly what Clarke wanted, too. She was
desperately kissing Lexa, trying to take it all in as Lexa gave her it all.
And then she came, and Lexa felt her entire body shudder at the pleasurable wave
that ran through her. Clarke was left leaning against the wall, still held up by
Lexa, as she breathed heavily and tried to regain herself.
“The room’s spinning,” she mumbled, giggles spilling from her lips moments later.
“I’m drunk.”
Lexa laughed and leaned her forehead against hers. “That you are. And thoroughly…
fucked.”
Clarke gasped. “Your turn.”
And before Lexa knew it, it was she who had her back against the wall, whilst
Clarke’s knee pressed to her core and lips ran along her neck, one hand grasping at
her breast while the other wrapped around her waist and pulled her in closer.
“I’m going to eat you so good,” Clarke hummed as she knelt before Lexa, “It’s
Vegas, baby.”
Lexa groaned. “That was just…god, Clarke, how drunk are you? That was just gross.”
Clarke chuckled and pushed Lexa’s dress upwards. “How gross, exactly?”
Lexa went to answer, but the next instant Clarke’s hand cupped her sex, and she saw
Clarke’s eyes widen at the wetness that had seeped through the silk of her
underwear.
“You’re wet.”
Clarke sounded almost surprised, but she slid Lexa’s panties off nevertheless.
“Yes, I am,” Lexa breathed, a little annoyed at how slow Clarke was being. She was
aching for her mouth, but her drunken idiot wife was taking her sweet time as
though she _knew_ just how much she needed her mouth.
“No, Lexa, you’re _dripping._ ”
To demonstrate her point, Clarke slid two fingers into Lexa, unannounced, and Lexa
gasped; but then she slid them out again, and Lexa saw that a string of arousal
followed them, dripping from Clarke’s fingers. She stifled a moan and bit her lip,
and when she saw Clarke put those fingers in her mouth, she yearned to grab her
head and to just put her where she needed her. But she knew Clarke wouldn’t allow
her to do that, and so she just stood there, waiting, yearning, whilst Clarke
sucked her fingers clean, never breaking eye contact.
“You taste so fucking good,” she hummed.
“Clarke, please.”
Clarke laughed. “You’re so needy.”

“Please.”
Clarke nodded and shuffled forward, her knees pressing onto the cold tile floor of
the bathroom. But she didn’t care; no, the second her mouth touched Lexa’s sex, all
else tuned out except the pleasure of her wife. She could taste her, and it was
like heaven; Lexa’s hands soon found their way into her hair, her grip gentle at
first, but growing tighter and rougher with each moan and whimper which left her
lips. Lexa couldn’t keep quiet, or still for that matter; her hips bucked and
grinded against Clarke’s mouth, searching for more pressure and for Clarke to go
harder – but Clarke kept steady, pushing her to stay on the brink for almost five
minutes before finally allowing her to climax.
When she rose up, she had shaky legs and sore knees, and Lexa looked like she was
only barely standing herself.
“Holy…holy shit.”
Clarke grabbed her neck and kissed her, mouth tipped with alcohol and Lexa’s
arousal. “You were sinfully good,”she murmured.
Lexa chuckled. “Sinfully good indeed.”
“It’s Vegas, baby.”
* * *
A while later they ventured back out into the club, and almost miraculously found
Raven and Anya amidst the crowd. Raven’s neck was littered with hickeys and bite
marks, and Clarke spent a while commenting on them until Anya threw her a pointed
glare and promptly shut her up.
At about an hour till midnight, they left the club and climbed into a cab(which was
miraculous on it’s own, none of them would’ve ever thought to get a cab on New
Year’s in NY) and headed back to Clarke’s and Lexa’s apartment.
“So tell me again why O and Lincoln bailed on us?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “They didn’t bail,” she stumbled over a word and thought for
a second. “They’re coming to your place. They had a fancy ‘family dinner’ with
Lincoln’s family. Oh, and I invited Bell and his babyboy too.”
“And you didn’t bother to ask me?”
“You’re too sober,” Raven decided, tossing Clarke a small plastic bottle of vodka
which she’d been keeping in between her boobs. “Drink it.”
Lexa took the bottle from Clarke. “No, don’t drink it. It’s petrol and poison.”
Clarke stared at Lexa for a while before she comprehended what she said, and
laughed. “Fine, I won’t. We have drinks at the house.”
“Lincoln’s bringing pizza. Murphy’s bringing snacks. It’s a party.”
They arrived at the apartment to find four people standing in the lobby, looking
varying levels of annoyed. One of them was a stranger to all of them; a young man,
with brown hair and mischievous eyes, stood beside Bellamy, looking smug in his
leather jacket and neat button-up shirt.
“So this is your boy?” Raven asked, her voice only a little too loud.
Bellamy nodded. “This is-“
“Murphy. Not John, B.” His boyfriend interrupted, flashing them all a smile. “He
insists I should go by my first name, but I prefer Murphy. Or asshole, if you’d
prefer.”
“Is that ‘cause you’re the bottom?”
Anya smacked Raven over the head. “That’s not an appropriate question.”
“So you two are dating?” Bellamy asked, eyeing Raven and Anya curiously. He’d seen
them during Christmas, but hadn’t quite caught up for reasons well understood.
“Yes, I’m stuck with this b-“
“Raven.”
Not only Bellamy, but just about everyone was shocked to see Raven actually
_shutting up_ when Anya asked her to.
“Holy shit, Raven, you’re whipped.” Octavia laughed.
Raven grumbled. “How about we all go upstairs for some alcohol and forget about my
b-“
“Ra-aven.”
“I was going to say my beautiful girlfriend, you dick,” Raven snapped, whirling
around to face Anya.
“Oh please, you were going to call me a bitch and you’re an awful liar.”
Raven stepped in close, her eyes staring into Anya’s with a dare twinkling within
them. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Anya just shrugged. “Nothing.”
And then she walked right past Raven, leaving her hurt and offended.
“You bitch!”
“Love you too!”
Everyone around her laughed, and slowly they began walking towards the elevator.
They all squeezed in together because Clarke claimed that they totally could fit,
and it was a little tight – but then they came up, and went to their apartment, and
everyone but Raven and Anya was wowed.
“Whoa, Clarke, your apartment is amazing.” Octavia commented. She stood in the
middle of the lounge, just staring at the sky line which stretched out before them,
eyes wide.
“It’s Le-“
“It’s our apartment,” Lexa interjected. “And thanks.”
“Right, so,” Lincoln began, “Anyone want drinks?”

“Oh, me. Hit me.” Murphy jumped at the chance. “I’m way too sober for this, I don’t
know any of you.”
Bellamy groaned. “Murphy…”
“What? It’s New Years, Bell. Loosen up.”
And so they drank. A lot. So much, in fact, that the rest of the night was a blur.
Clarke could distinctly recall only a few isolated things.
They went outside onto the roof of the building to watch the fireworks at midnight,
and Clarke kissed Lexa so hard and long that they both had to take a few moments to
gather their breath. She wasn’t so sure who had taken a picture, only that a few
days later she stuck her hand into the pocket of her coat and found a polaroid of
her and Lexa, looking like drunken idiotic messes, kissing at midnight with
fireworks going off in the distance.
She framed that picture.
She could also recall lounging on the couch around 2am and having a long
conversation with Lincoln about how ‘bitches be crazy’. Lexa had then proceeded to
torture her with tickles until she’d submitted and admitted that Lexa was not crazy
and that she was, in fact, the smartest and bestest wife in the whole entire world.
And then the next thing she knew, it was 1pm and she woke up to a pounding headache
which was all-too reminiscent of that one morning not too long ago.
She was laying on their bed, vertically, with Lexa sprawled over her stomach. She
felt another weight on the bed, and after turning her head, saw that Bellamy was
also sleeping on the bed, curled up against the headboard.
She would’ve loved to go back to sleep, but her head was pounding, and a moment
later her stomach churned. She was in such a hurry that she just rolled Lexa off of
herself and dashed to the bathroom, failing to notice Murphy passed out in the
bathtub.
After she’d hurled out just about _everything_ she’d ever eaten in her life, she
laid onto the floor and groaned.
“Fucking hell.”
“I get you.”
She was so spent from heaving that she didn’t even react to Murphy’s voice. “I want
to die.”
“I do too.”
“We made bad decisions.”
“We really did.”
“The only solace I have is that Raven’s dying too.”
Just then, in stumbled Lexa, looking positively green. Clarke groaned as she sat
up, and went over to hold Lexa’s hair and rub her back as her wife repeated the
exact same stomach cleansing she’d done just moments before.
“I’m so sorry you’re in pain,” Clarke mumbled, her hand rubbing circles on Lexa’s
back, “But we had a fun night. Don’t forget that.”
Lexa groaned. “Clarke, shut up. Everything hurts.”
Clarke laid down onto the cold tiles and patted the space next to herself. “Come
on, lie down. I promise you, it helps.”
A little while later, Anya entered Clarke’s and Lexa’s apartment using a spare key.
She had miraculous abilities to not get hungover like everyone else, and was thus
the only functioning human being of the group.
In the apartment, she found Octavia and Lincoln, passed out on the couch, still
very sound asleep. She carefully set two plastic bags and glasses of water nearby
for whenever they woke up. Judging by the bottles and cans scattered over the
kitchen, they would not be in any good condition.
Raven was currently heaving back in her own apartment, cursing the world and
smelling absolutely awful. Anya had fixed her a ‘hangover cure’ smoothie, which
Raven had claimed looked like vomit – but she’d drank it anyway, and had then
crawled back into the bathroom and asked Anya to go make sure none of her friends
had died during the night.
And so she made her way up the stairs and into Lexa’s and Clarke’s bedroom, only to
find Bellamy knocked out cold on the bed and the remaining three laying in the
bathroom, groaning about life.
“So, how’s 2016?” She smirked, eyeing Lexa’s pained expression carefully.
“I want to die,” Lexa grumbled, “Alcohol is the devil.”
“Aye aye,” Murphy muttered from the tub.
“Have any of you guys drank water?”
“Uh…no?”
Anya rolled her eyes and headed to the kitchen, only to return with three big
glasses of water and aspirins for each of them. “Come on, up you get. Doctor’s
orders.”
“If I get up, I’ll die,” Clarke winced. “I’ll die anyway, but I’d like a slow
death.”
Lexa groaned. “Did we have to be so stupid?”
“It’s called New Years, Lexa.”
“I seriously want to die.”
Clarke let out a laugh then, and each and every single one of them looked at her
incredulously.
“What could possibly be funny at this moment?”
“I just remembered the day I heard I was married.”
“And?”
“It was exactly like this. And I remember saying ‘worst hangover ever’. I think I
was wrong. _This_ is the worst hangover ever.”
Lexa grumbled and swatted at Clarke, her hand ending up resting on her chest. “I
hope you’re not saying being married to me is like a hangover.”
“No, of course not. I’m saying it’s _worse._ ”
Lexa let out a huff, knowing Clarke was joking. “You’re an idiot.”
“And I love you, Lexa. I might die, though.”
“I’ll hold your hair.”
> in all honesty, i find it baffling that so many of you have read and commented
and kudosed this trainwreck of a fic in a month. it's been only a month, and yet it
feels like a part of my life has been permanently altered. so thank you to you
guys, i really do love you. each and every single one of you.
> especially those of you who leave comments. you're my babies.
35. Chapter 35
> already halfway through my exam week, powering through like a champ
> plot's been put on hold until i can actually sit down and focus, but that doesn't
stop me from writing cutesy fluff for you guys to heal your souls and hearts with
> so enjoy~
They spent the next hours complaining about their pain and being tended to by an
increasingly annoyed Anya. Octavia and Lincoln woke up with killer hangovers, but
managed to stumble into a cab and get themselves home to go fix their dying livers
and pounding brains. Murphy spent a long while laying around, complaining despite
the fact that he wasn’t really _as_ hungover as the three(Anya didn’t count as she
wasn’t hungover at all) who’d basically spent 12 hours drinking non-stop. When
Bellamy finally did wake up, Murphy half-carried him downstairs and into a cab,
thanking them all for a fun night but also cursing Raven for having Bellamy drink
so much, knowing he'd have to spend the rest of the day with an irritable Bellamy
who most likely cared very little for anything other than vomiting and wanting to
die.
Lexa crawled her way downstairs a little while after Anya had forced them to get
up, and had dragged every blanket in the house to an armchair, into which she had
burrowed herself. Anya had grumbled about it at first, but then gone back a little
while later with a bucket and a glass of water.
Clarke was refusing to leave the bathroom floor. Anya couldn’t get her to budge.
“Lexa, would you please go get Clarke? She’ll get cold, laying on the tiles like
that.”
Lexa grumbled and burrowed herself further in her blankets. “Fuck off, Anya.”
But Anya wasn’t budging. “Her back will start hurting.”
Lexa groaned. “Anya, I’m _literally_ dying. Leave me be.”

Anya sighed and went back upstairs to check on Clarke. Before she could enter the
bathroom, however, she heard a few stifled sobs, and immediately circled around,
practically running back to the living room to get Lexa.
“Your wife is crying. Go fix it.”
That got Lexa moving faster than Anya had expected. The mountain of blankets flew
off of her as she darted up, only to pause for a brief moment to regain her senses
and stop the room from spinning before stumbling over to the stairs and up to the
bathroom. She found Clarke curled up in the bathtub, tears streaking her cheeks as
she sobbed, her attempts to stifle them failed and only making them sound more
painful. The instant she saw her, Lexa felt like she’d been punched in the gut –
she had no idea why Clarke was crying, only that she was and that she had to make
her feel better.
“Clarke?”
The blonde’s head snapped up and she stared at Lexa, surprised and almost shocked
to see her there. She opened her mouth to say something, but found her mouth was so
dry that she couldn’t get the words out. Lexa realized this, and got a glass of
water, not even noticing her own pounding head or churning stomach. All that
mattered to her was the fact that Clarke was upset.
“You wanna get out of the tub?”
Clarke nodded and stood up, and Lexa held her waist as she climbed out. They were
both weak and trembling from the lack of any sustenance in their stomachs, but even
so, Lexa gritted her teeth and supported Clarke’s weight almost completely. She led
them out of the bathroom and to their bed, where Clarke collapsed almost
immediately, dragging Lexa down along with her.
“What’s wrong, Clarke?” Lexa asked, her voice tentative.
Clarke bit her lip and sighed. “It’s…god, please don’t be mad.”
Now Lexa was thoroughly afraid. “What is it?”
“I lost my ring.”
All the scenarios in Lexa’s head – cheating, leaving, divorce – shattered and all
that was left was complete and utter surprise.
“You lost your ring?”
“I knew you’d be mad, I just- I don’t know where it is, I-“
Lexa let out a laugh, and Clarke froze, now confused. “Why are you laughing?”
“I’m not mad, Clarke. I thought you were leaving or dying or something way worse.
You cried, Clarke. I was terrified.”
“But I cant find my ring!”
Lexa kissed her gently, ignoring the fact that both their breaths tasted like
vomit, and smiled. “Turn around.”
Clarke stared at her. “What?”
“Look at the bedside table.”

Clarke craned her neck, and Lexa heard a small gasp when Clarke saw the ring placed
neatly onto the corner of the table. She crawled over to take it, and put it on as
quickly as she could, now looking thoroughly embarrassed and red. Lexa laughed
gently, and Clarke groaned, giving her a gentle shove as she muttered: “Just shut
up.”
But Lexa leaned in and kissed her face, her hands cupping Clarke’s cheeks as she
littered kisses all over her tear-streaked cheeks. “You’re an idiot,” she muttered,
“But too cute.”
Clarke scrunched up her nose and frowned. “Your breath smells like vomit.”
Lexa hummed and kissed her. “So does yours.”
“No, Lexa, I mean if you come any closer I’m going to vomit all over you.”
And then Clarke darted off the bed and back to the bathroom, and Lexa stumbled
along with her, still feeling like she’d been run over by a truck but also feeling
the warmth and happiness in her chest from the adorableness that happened to be her
wife. She was more than happy to sit beside her and hold her hair and rub her back
as Clarke spewed out her insides and cursed about her life, although after a while
the smell gave Lexa’s own stomach an idea and their roles were reversed. But even
so, neither of the two really cared, and it ended up being so that the two of them
passed out on the bathroom floor, Lexa clinging to Clarke’s chest like she was
afraid she’d slip off and fall away.
Anya snuck in a while later to put a blanket over them and a pillow under Clarke’s
head, as well as to put two glasses of hangover-reducing green juice nearby,
knowing Lexa would have the senses to force both of them to stomach it and thus put
them on the fast track to recovery.
She’d been so occupied with tidying up the apartment and making sure the two
married idiots didn’t spontaneously die that she’d almost forgotten entirely about
Raven.
Almost.
“Shit.”
She hurried back to Raven’s apartment, and slipped inside quietly using her own
key, not quite sure what she was to expect inside.
She had expected vomit and groaning, pain and curses, and certainly had expected
Raven to be pissed that her ‘quick visit’ to Clarke’s and Lexa’s apartment had
lasted well over two hours.
She hadn’t expected to find Raven laying in the middle of the kitchen isle in
nothing but Anya’s t-shirt and boxers, eating crackers and humming the tune to
“It’s A Small World.” No, she certainly could have never expected that, and the
sight was so baffling that she froze in her steps, unable to tear her eyes from
Raven and her leg swinging over the edge of the counter in an all-too calm fashion.
“Raven?”
Raven turned her head backwards so that she could look at Anya upside down, and her
lips stretched into a goofy smile when she saw her.
“Anyaa!”
Anya walked over and pushed Raven’s head upright, gently, but did not retract her
hands and instead let Raven’s head rest on them. “What the hell is this?”
Raven made a face, leaning into Anya’s touch where her thumb was gently stroking
her cheek. “I don’t know. I got hungry.”
“When I left, you were puking and yelling at the world. What the hell happened in
the past two hours?”
Raven hummed the tune again and tapped Anya’s nose. “I’m having fun.”
“Raven, you’re scaring me. Are you on something?”
Raven’s smile wiped off her face and was replaced by a concerned frown. “Don’t be
worried, Anya. I’m not high or anything. I just haven’t eaten a damned thing before
these divine crackers, and I’m just happy.”
“You’re lying on the kitchen counter in a vomit stained t-shirt which is _mine_ and
you’re eating crackers, and you’re humming an idiotic song. That can’t be sane.”
“You should know by now that I’m not entirely sane.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do, but I’m worried. Please at least sit up.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll vomit if I do.”
Anya laughed then. “So you’re just pretending to be fine?”
She received a cracker in the face for that, but found it impossible to be pissed
off at her suffering girlfriend.
“You’re a bitch,” Raven grumbled, “But I’m still happy.”
“And why would that be?”
Raven looked at her, eyes looking very strange and the emotion within them a
mystery to Anya.
“Because you’re here.”
Anya groaned and covered Raven’s face with her hand, rubbing at her in a way she
knew annoyed her. “Shut up.”
Raven reached over her head and wrapped her arms around Anya’s waist, pulling her
closer until her stomach pressed against the top of her head. “I’m happy because
you’re he-ere.”
“This is a strange position we’re in.”
“If you got up on the table over my face it could be a very pleasant position for
you.”
“You literally just told me you’re seconds from vomiting. I’d rather not have your
mouth anywhere near my vagina right now.”
Raven pouted. “I was only joking, but that was mean.”
Anya crouched so that her face hovered over Raven’s. “I am mean. But you knew that
already.”
A finger of hers ran from Raven’s jaw down towards the collar of her neck, which
only partially covered the hickeys and bitemarks which Anya had left onto Raven’s
skin the night before. Raven shuddered at the gentle touch, and finally sat up, the
room spinning as she did so. Anya came over and placed a gentle hand onto the small
of her back, her hazel eyes looking at her carefully and failing awfully at
concealing the concern held within them.
Raven nodded and slid off of the counter, Anya’s arm wrapping around her waist and
steadying her as she leaned against her girlfriend and groaned. “Can I just stay
here?”
Anya laughed. “How about we get our asses over to the couch over there?”
“I’d prefer the bed.”
“Can you walk, or would you rather me carry you, princess?”
Raven groaned. “I’m not a princess.”
“Fine. Want me to carry you, asshole?”
“That’s more like it. Yes please.”
Anya wrapped an arm under Raven’s legs and another under her arms, and lifted her
up, as lightly as a feather. Raven laughed as she stumbled the short distance over
to her bed, and they fell in together, Anya ending up on her back with Raven laying
on her chest, face nuzzled in her chest.
“I like this,” Raven mumbled, a smile on her face. “Your boobs are very soft.”
Raven rubbed her hand over Anya’s stomach and sighed. “You’re nice, even though you
keep acting mean. I’m not blind.”
Anya was quiet for a while. “I know.” Her fingers played with Raven’s hair, which
was dirty and messy and probably contained some remnants of vomit. But somehow,
none of that mattered to her. She was cuddling a girl who _reeked_ of alcohol and
bad decisions, and yet she felt like there was no other place in the world where
she’d rather be.
“Happy New Year,” Raven hummed after a while.
“Happy 2016,” Anya replied. “Any resolutions?”
Raven groaned. “No more alcohol. Ever.”
“We both know that’s not achievable for you. Besides, how are we supposed to have
our beer-and-baseball dates if you give up beer?” Anya teased her gently, her
finger tapping at her forehead, and Raven groaned again.
“I’m not promising to start going on morning runs with you, Anya.”
“Just one month? With your diet, you could really use the exercise or you’ll die of
obesity-related diseases before you turn 30.”
“Like I’d want to live past 30 anyway,” Raven grumbled.
“I’d like for you to live past 30.”
“Really?” Raven asked, turning her face to look up at her. “You’re serious?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “What, you’d rather think I _didn’t_ want you to live past
30?”
Raven shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just…I mean I’m 25, but still. That’s 5 years
in the future.”
“And?”
“5 years.”
“Are you saying you’re dumping me?”
“God, no. I’m just saying I’ve never had a relationship that lasted over two
months.”
Anya smiled gently and pulled Raven upwards so that she could kiss her fully on the
mouth. She didn’t care that Raven’s mouth tasted like death.
“Then we’ll see if you’re still around in a month or so.”
Raven frowned. “I will.”
“Promise?”
“That’s my new year’s resolution. I’ll keep fucking dating you for the year.”
“The year? That’s ambitious.”
“Okay, fine. Six months. You’re stuck with me.”
Anya hummed and kissed her again. “I’m not opposed to that.”
“Why are you kissing me? My mouth tastes like something died in there.”
“Because you’re cute,” Anya shrugged, “And your face is right there.”
Raven let out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re probably dying. So hush, lay down, and rest. You need to let your liver
recover from all the abuse it took last night.”
“I’m sorry, but you took the exact same amount of shots and drinks I did. How are
you not dying?”
Anya pushed Raven’s head downwards to rest on her chest. “Rest. My superpowers we
can discuss when you’re less likely to heave on me in the middle of a
conversation.”
> oops my hand slipped and ranya happened(i know some of you guys missed them)
> you guys's headcanon asks on tumblr have prompted so many cute ideas for this fic
and it's amazing, i'd like for you to keep them coming because they're so much fun
to write(and if you haven't checked them out yet, they're all under the answered
tag on my tumblr @clexy-polarbear)
> im happy to find that a majority of Clexakru hasn't lost faith in our ship, Lexa
is alive and the canon is just severely mistaken
36. Chapter 36
> ok so the plot's sneaking back in, get ready for some clexa adorableness and
indra badassery
A few weeks passed, and the trial set for the 27th of January came nearer with each
passing day. With each day crossed off on the puppy-calendar hanging in their
foyer, the dread in both their hearts grew a little bit stronger; no matter how
great their life together may have been, the shadow of Lexa’s past and her parents
still loomed over their happiness, seeping through and causing occasional spouts of
annoyance and genuine fear. But they overcame those, with Clarke being mindful of
Lexa’s occasional solemn moods and going out of her way to ensure that she knew
Clarke was there for her.
Lexa took up the job at Porter&Ryder, and started about a week after New Years’,
leaving Clarke with all too much time to herself during the days. This she did not
mind; if anything, she relished having the apartment to herself, setting up her
studio and painting and drawing with the music as loud as she pleased and being
able to consume as many coffees as she dared without Lexa pointing out that she’d
die of caffeine overdose if she had a single drop more.
And so it came to be that they developed a routine of their own. Clarke would rise
in the mornings to Lexa’s overly loud alarm, and get dressed whilst Lexa still
slept, oblivious to the fact that her alarm had rung in the first place. Clarke
soon realized that if she didn’t wake her wife, Lexa could have easily slept
through the whole day.
But she didn’t mind. She rather enjoyed littering kisses all over Lexa’s warm skin
until she stirred awake, and turned over so that Clarke could see her beautiful
sleepy frown. Lexa wasn’t much of a morning person, but once she got going, she was
actually very fast with getting ready. She’d be out of the house by 8 am so that
she could get to the office by half past, but Clarke refused to let her leave
before she’d given her a goodbye kiss. No matter how much of a hurry she was in,
there was always time for a quick kiss.
Clarke would then put on music and dance around the apartment, tidying up after
their breakfast and tending to some mundane everyday things – cleaning, organizing,
laundry – before finally changing into her baggy old t-shirt and heading up to her
studio to spend the day.
Lexa would often come home around five to find Clarke still in the studio,
sometimes having forgotten about lunch altogether – Clarke was usually clad in only
a t-shirt, with paint stains covering her arms and legs and sometimes her face.
There’d usually be a half-finished cup of cold coffee on the floor near her,
probably next to another cup containing paint water. The number of times Lexa had
seen Clarke drink from the wrong cup had prompted her to label two mugs in the
house with ‘paint water’ and ‘not paint water’ but Clarke still kept forgetting.
On that particular day, Lexa had left much earlier because Indra had wanted to
speak with her at the end of the day. She’d spent the whole day knowing very well
that the meeting would not be a pleasant one, and even Clarke’s adorable snapchats
or their brief phone call during her lunch break had really worked to elevate her
mood. And so when she entered Indra’s office at precisely quarter to five, she was
jumpy and nervous, and Indra saw this and understood.
“I know this isn’t very comfortable, but I want you to be prepared for the trial.
You are the plaintiff, and thus will take a stand and be answering questions from
both me but also from your parents in the cross-examination. I just want you to be
prepared.”
Lexa nodded and took a seat. “I understand. But you can understand why I’m
uncomfortable.”
“And that’s good. You’ll want to show emotion in the trial, it’ll win over the
jury. Playing a character won’t covey your suffering to the judge or the jurors.”
Lexa nodded. “Okay. Go for it.”
What then ensued was a long half hour of Indra throwing disturbing and hurtful
questions at Lexa, questions which they both knew her parents would be asking.
“So you identify as a homosexual?”
“If that is indeed your identity, then for what reasons did you participate in the
various anti-gay protests, as listed here?”
“What do you have to say about your active participation in anti-gay protests and
campaigns in general?”
“Why did you accuse of your parents for the departure of your ‘claimed’ middle
school love?”
Lexa was able to tackle these questions, and many others like them, relatively
unphased. However, she knew that they were only the beginning, as became clear when
Indra cleared her throat and asked:
“In these medical transcripts from your past shrinks, you personally admit that
your ‘orientation’ is a fixation of the mind, and it is clear from these that you
held personal interest in correcting yourself from these ways. Why are you straying
from that now?”
Lexa sighed. “I was pressured into saying those things on the threat of physical
and psychological abuse. They promised I could go home if I just said what they
wanted me to say. I just wanted them to stop. I would’ve said anything to make them
stop, I was only a child.”
Indra nodded and took a breath. “You sure you’re okay to continue? We can take a
break, if you want.”
Lexa shrugged. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t take breaks in trial, so might as well
practice now.”
The woman nodded. “I just have one last question.”
“Okay.”
“Can you tell the court what reasons led to you crashing your car on October 28th
of last year?”
For a moment, Lexa forgot to breathe. She’d forgotten all about the crash, and now
that she remembered, she realized just how powerful a point it would prove for her
parents. They hadn’t had anything to do with the crash, not directly anyway.
Lexa cleared her throat. “I was driving in my lane, and a drunk driver swerved into
my lane. I avoided collision by moving into the other lane, but when the car
returned to it’s lane it was too late to avoid collision and hence the crash
happened.”
“But it says here in the medical records that your blood alcohol level was .11. You
were drinking that night?”
“Yes.”
Indra sighed. “No, you don’t have to say that. The medical records shouldn’t
contain your toxicology report, because you did not consent to tests nor did you
consent for them to be given to law enforcement.”
“Then what do I say?”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“No comment? Do you know what my parents do with something as good as that? They’ll
have a field day if I say ‘no comment’ to that.”
“Then what would you propose? As a fellow lawyer, you understand how this works.
How would you go about it?”
“I’d say yes. And then I’d state that I was drinking due to the fact that I was
experiencing severe distress due to the phone call I’d received from them earlier
that day.”
“Do you have it recorded?”
“No.”
“We can get phone records. Go on.”
“In the call, they told me they’d found me a fiancé.”
“Found you a fiancé?”
“They said it was all well and taken care of, and that there’d be an official
proposal and engagement party once they got back.”
Indra looked pissed, and Lexa felt glad that she did.
“So you intend on claiming that your drinking that night was due to them?”
“Yes.”
“How on earth could that be plausible?”
“Because they’ll likely use it as a last question. I know their methods, Indra. If
they ask it last, I’ll get the last word. They’ll expect to finish the questions
with me saying ‘no comment’, but if I instead wreck that by accusing them, they’ll
be thrown off their game.”
The woman watched her, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “I see. It’s risky.”
“But if it succeeds, it’s a great plan.”
“I support it. You’re good at this.”
Lexa shrugged. “I didn’t go to Harvard for nothing.”
“They made you go, though, didn’t they?”
Lexa shrugged again. “Yeah. But it’s okay, I find law interesting. Especially what
you do here. I like the idea of helping people, doing something like what you’re
doing for me. I really do.”
“I’m glad. Now, I believe we’re done here for today, but we’ll meet up before the
trial for one last run through of everything to make sure everything’s accounted
for. That alright?”
“Yeah, sounds good. See you tomorrow?”
Lexa stood and walked out of the office, the dread in her gut now a full-on fear –
she wasn’t as confident as she’d been before. The reality of the situation had hit
her back in the office, and she know fully realized that she was about to go head-
to-head with her _parents_ in court.
She wasn’t so sure she was ready.
Lexa wasn’t so sure how she got home, only that she’d left Indra’s office in a daze
and that the next moment she was fitting the keys into the lock of her home and
stepping inside. The instant she passed the threshold, she felt a warmth spread
through her chest; she was home, she was okay, Clarke was somewhere in the
apartment and everything was okay.
But the nagging feeling in her gut did not recede entirely.
She set her purse down in the foyer and hung her coat up carefully before undoing
her hair from the tight bun it had been in all day. Letting her hair down let the
relaxation rush through her body, and she now realized that the apartment was
almost entirely dark, with the only light on being in the studio.
_Clarke forgot to eat again,_ Lexa thought to herself as she walked up the stairs,
_that idiot._
She stepped into the studio, expecting to find Clarke hunched over some sketch or
completely enthralled in a painting, only to find her just standing in the middle
of the room, her eyes fixed on a canvas set on an easel. The canvas was a
wonderfully crafted masterpiece on it’s own, a beautiful mixture of colors which
just fit together in a perfect harmony, and Lexa couldn’t help but smile when she
saw how focused Clarke was on it. Her wife failed to notice her until her arms
wrapped around her waist, pulling her in, and Clarke raised a hand to stroke Lexa’s
cheek as she rested her head against hers and hummed.
“It’s beautiful, as always.”

“D’you think I should put more orange?”
Lexa shrugged. “Whatever you do, it’s beautiful.”
Clarke laughed. “You’re no use.” Then after a while, she asked:
“How was work?”
Lexa grumbled and pressed a kiss onto Clarke’s collarbone. “It was fine.”
“And Indra?”
Lexa’s arms around Clarke tightened. “Fine.”
Clarke turned around and set her paintbrush down, blue eyes filled with concern.
“It wasn’t fine, was it?”
The brunette shook her head. “I’m worried, Clarke.”
Clarke’s hands cupped her face, and Lexa didn’t care that they stained her skin
with paint; no, all she cared for was Clarke’s lips which engulfed hers, making her
forget about all else, leaving only happiness in their wake.
“Don’t be, Lexa,” Clarke murmured. “Everything will be fine.”
“You forgot to eat today.”
Clarke shrugged. “I’m fine.”
But Lexa wasn’t having it. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
“But I’m not finished.”
“You’ve been working on that painting for days, Clarke. You can leave it and come
down to eat.”
And they ate, Lexa asking Clarke about her paintings and her day, doing all she
could to keep the conversation fixed on Clarke and away from her. But she couldn’t
keep that up forever – no, Clarke did manage to get her to talk, and after hearing
how crappy Lexa had felt after the meeting, she had left the remains of her dinner
and promptly walked over to sit herself into Lexa’s lap.
“You don’t need to worry, you know that, right? Indra’s got it under control.”
“But they’re so good at what they do.”
“So is Indra.”
“But-“
Clarke silenced her by pressing a finger to her lips, and smiled. “Shush. I think
it’s high time we went to bed, don’t you?”
Lexa pulled Clarke’s arm down and moved forward, an arm wrapping around Clarke’s
waist as she stood up together with her wife. “Yes. I’m tired.”
“I know, you woke up before six this morning. Poor baby.”
Clarke walked Lexa up to the bedroom, where she insisted on undressing her, undoing
the buttons of Lexa’s shirt slowly, pressing a kiss wherever skin was exposed, her
whole countenance tender and loving. When she’d gotten Lexa out of her clothes, she
went over to get her some pajamas, but was stopped by Lexa’s hand grabbing her arm
and her eyes meeting Clarke's with a tentative question held within their green.
“I don’t think I'll be needing them, do you?”
* * *
Clarke awoke with a start sometime after 1am to find Lexa squirming in her arms.
The brunette was clearly in distress, mumbling and whimpering quiet pleas and
breathing quickly.
“No, don’t…please…”
Her face was twisted as though she were in pain – Clarke had been spooning her, her
arms wrapped around Lexa’s waist, but she now rose up against her elbow and turned
Lexa onto her back, a hand resting on her cheek as she called out her name.
“Lexa. Lexa!”
Lexa woke with a gasp, her eyes unfocused and confused for a long while before they
finally were able to decipher Clarke’s face out of the darkness. She stared at her
for a score of two seconds before her lip quivered, and the next second Clarke
knew, Lexa was crying silently, tears slipping down her cheeks and quiet whimpers
escaping her lips.
“Lexa, what’s wrong?” She asked as she pulled the brunette onto herself, cradling
her against her chest and settling her face into the crook of her neck in the
manner she knew Lexa loved. But Lexa couldn’t answer her, all her effort fixed on
keeping her composure. She buried her face into Clarke’s neck, her hand firmly
holding onto Clarke’s waist as the tears fell from her eyes and the fear in her gut
and mind refused to settle down.
Clarke waited quietly as Lexa cried, her tears dropping onto Clarke's skin and
burning like acid - she hated that Lexa was crying, that she was hurting, and that
she couldn't do anything about it. Her fingers drew patterns on the bare skin of
Lexa's back as she whispered soothing words to her, and Lexa’s sobs soon died down.
She then pressed a kiss to Lexa’s temple, soft and tentative, and she was happy to
see Lexa turn her face so that she could see her.
“What did you dream about?”
Lexa flinched. “I…It was my old…tutor. I…she…” She bit her lip and cursed the tears
that wanted to push through once again. “I dreamed about her. About how she’d…beat
me.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“She’d cuff me to the table so I wouldn’t be able to move away. She’d make me put
my other hand on the table and hit my fingers with a rule each time I flinched when
the videos played. And if that happened too many times, she’d just beat me. I’m
just…it’s so stupid, I’m so afraid, I know she’s not here and she can’t be, but I’m
just so scared.”
Clarke pulled Lexa even closer, her arms wrapping around her as tightly as she
could. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
“I just want to forget it all happened.”
“I wish it had never happened to you.”
“But it did.”
“And all I have to offer you is this, Lexa: I’m not going anywhere. You can cry and
bawl and yell at me, but I’m not going anywhere. And you’re safe. I’d kick her ass
if I could, you know that. I kinda want to kill her. But she, or any of them, will
never again lay a hand on you so long as I’m alive. And you don’t need me
protecting you. You’re strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen. You could
totally kick her ass if you wanted. That shit happened, and I hate every single bit
of it, but it made you so strong, and I love that about you. And it’s fine that
you’re scared. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Lexa was quiet for a long while. “I love you, you know that?”
Clarke laughed gently. “Yes, of course I know that. I love you too.”
“And we’ll be fine.”
Lexa’s tone of voice sounded questioning and unsure.
“We’ll be fine.” Clarke said sternly.
Another long period of silence fell over them, and Lexa wiped the remaining tears
from her eyes as she yawned.
“You should try to sleep,” Clarke murmured. “It’s still nighttime.”
“I don’t want to go to sleep anymore.”
Clarke kissed the top of her head again. “You’ll be fine, Lexa. I’ll stay awake and
wake you up if you get another dream.”
“I don’t want you losing sleep over me.”
Clarke’s hand began drawing patterns on Lexa’s back again, but this time with an
aim; she knew exactly how to touch and run her fingers along Lexa’s skin to relax
her and get her to sleep, and she was determined to let Lexa have those hours of
solace. “You’re my wife. Do you really think I don’t wake up early sometimes just
to watch you?”
“That’s a little creepy,” Lexa mumbled. “Watching me sleep.”
“You look so peaceful.”
“Mm…”
“Just sleep, Lexa, you’ll be safe.”
Lexa slipped into sleep, face nestled in the neck of her wife, body laying atop
that of her wife; it was warm and comfortable, and Clarke’s arms around her made
her feel safer than anything else had. And Clarke stayed awake, fingers still
tracing the soft skin of Lexa’s back and arms, her eyes never leaving Lexa’s
sleeping form.
In time, her breaths slowed down too as she fell asleep, and when she awoke in the
morning, she was overjoyed to see a genuine sleepy smile stretched onto Lexa’s
beautifully pink lips. She had slept peacefully, without ever waking with another
nightmare, and Clarke was so overwhelmed with happiness that she'd been able to
provide Lexa with those hours of solace that she simply couldn't help but smile.
> i'm a sucker for some hurt&comfort

> one more exam to go, and i've got a lot of plans lined up for not only tmt but my
other fics too(commander raccoon will be updated eventually just be patient my
children)
> follow me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear, i answer questions about my fics and
sometimes post headcanon thingies and updates about my works ^_^
37. Chapter 37
> ONE MORE EXAM TO GO FYEAH

> also the drama is back, the plot is back, and it gets juicy
Lexa awoke in the morning with crust in her eyes and butterfly kisses being
littered all along her chest and neck. Clarke was on top of her, the weight
pressing down just perfectly and making Lexa feel whole, and the dread of the night
before was all but gone.
“Morning,” Clarke murmured as she moved upwards to kiss her lips, “I love you.”
Lexa was overwhelmed, and that was precisely Clarke’s intent. With gentle caresses
and soft kisses, she brought Lexa into reality, and the smile on Lexa’s face was
more than worth it all.
“I love you too,” Lexa mumbled. She brought up a hand and rubbed at her eyes. “I’m
sorry about last night, I-“
But she was cut off with a kiss.
“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control. Did you sleep well the second
time?”
Lexa sighed happily. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”
“That’s good.”
Lips met lips, and for a moment, they were both silent, preoccupied by the other.
But then Lexa let out a whimper, and Clarke withdrew immediately, eyes wide and
full of concern.
“Did I do something?”
Lexa tried to kiss her again, but Clarke pulled away, not letting herself get
distracted.
“Lexa.”
Another whimper escaped Lexa’s lips and she pulled Clarke’s head down, her lips
engulfing Clarke’s own hungrily and desperately, her hands clinging to Clarke’s
neck and waist as though she felt like she was slipping away.
The last time Clarke had felt hunger like that from Lexa had been Vegas.
She pulled away for the briefest moment, long enough to voice her question – “Are
you okay?” – but Lexa pulled her in again, her kisses now rough and demanding.
Clarke would have gladly given in, happily let Lexa do what she wanted – but she
was worried, and Lexa was clearly not alright. And so she pushed Lexa away and gave
her a little shake of her head, and Lexa settled back down, disappointment and
confusion evident in her eyes.
“Lexa, you’re clearly not okay.”
Lexa pouted. “I just want to forget.”
“That’s not a solution.”
“I don’t want to think about it.”
Clarke took a deep breath. “I think you have to.”
“But it hurts.”
Clarke cupped Lexa’s face with one hand, and Lexa leaned into her touch. “I know it
does, but that’s the way you can heal.” She leaned her forehead against her wife’s,
and for a moment, they just remained silent.
“But I’m just so done with it all. I was fine. I am fine. But the dreams…”
“The dreams came back because you’re confronting your past. I promise you, Lexa,
the trial next week will finish it. Then you’ll have all the time you need to
heal.”
“But what if I don’t?”
Clarke kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. “I thought I’d never stop hurting
after dad died. It took me years to be able to even say ‘dad’ again. And it still
sometimes hurts. But I’m fine now. I know it’s not the same, but it’s similar. And
I didn’t have faith back then. But I have faith that one day you’ll wake up and you
won’t have any other worries other than what you’ll have for breakfast that day.”
A single tear slipped from the corner of Lexa’s eye, and Clarke brushed it away
with her thumb. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”
“I’m afraid, Clarke. What if we lose?”
“So what?”
“They could sue us for slander. They could rip every penny from us and leave us on
the street.”
“Then we’ll find ourselves a nice cardboard box. At least we’ll still be together.
I’m not going anywhere.”
Lexa laughed. “You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re a smart idiot for worrying. I’m worried too. But I’m more worried about
you.”
“Why?”
“Lexa, you had a nightmare last night. You cried. You’re clearly not ok.”
Lexa chewed her lip. “Yeah, I’m not entirely ok. But it’s fine.”
“No it’s not, Lexa. You deserve to be 100% happy all the time.”
“Nobody can.”
“I know, doesn’t mean I don’t wish you could have that.”
“I wish you could have that too.”
“My past is reconciled and well done with. I’m not the one with the nightmares.”
“The nightmares are fine. I’ll wake up, and cry, and panic. But you already fixed
it last night, and I have faith you’ll keep doing it.”
“I helped?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Yes, Clarke, you helped. Usually I feel like shit for a few
days, and can’t sleep – but you got me to go to sleep not five minutes later, and
I’m almost fine now. You’re a natural.”
“I just…I just did what felt right.”
“And it was perfect.”
Lexa kissed Clarke then, and her gratefulness pushed through her every touch; she
was happy, she was grateful, and most of all, she was okay.
* * *
The week passed far too quickly for either of them to fully comprehend, not until
all of a sudden it was the morning of January 27 th and Lexa was standing in the
middle of their bathroom, one hand clutching at her stomach whilst the other rubbed
at her temple as she fought the nervous nausea that had pushed her to wake up at
barely 5 am. Clarke padded in a moment later, and saw how pale Lexa was; she knew
that Lexa did not want her touching her, not when all her focus was on not
vomiting, and so she just sat onto the edge of the tub to wait until Lexa’s nerves
had passed.
“We’re going to be okay,” Clarke said when Lexa finally eased her death grip of her
stomach and turned to look at her. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m nervous.”
Clarke stood up and took Lexa’s hand. “And that’s okay. You’ll be fine. We’ll be
fine.”
“I’m not so sure I want to be doing this in the first place.”
Her wife wrapped her arms around her, and Lexa gladly pressed her face into
Clarke’s shoulder and sighed.
“You’re doing the right thing, Lexa. They deserve to rot in hell for what they
did.”
“But what if it accomplishes nothing?”
“It will. If you win the lawsuit, they’ll be embarrassed. They’ll have lost to you.
You’ll win.”
“But it’s just money. I don’t want their money.”
“It’s not about the money, Lexa, and you know it isn’t. You’re just stressed right
now, and that’s perfectly fine. I am too.”
“I just want to stop. I wish I’d never started this in the first place.”
“I know it’s awful, and I know today’s going to be hard. But you can get through
it, I know you can.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know. I’m tired too.”
“I’m sorry I kept you up last night.”
Clarke flinched slightly at the memory of Lexa’s tears and whimpers, of her
muttered pleas for the memories to go away – but she simply tightened her arms
around Lexa, bringing her even closer, and said: “Don’t be. I would’ve stayed up
whether you wanted me or not.”
Lexa smiled. “I know.”
“I’m stubborn.”
“I know.”
“And I’m an idiot?”
Lexa pulled away slightly and captured Clarke’s lips for a kiss. “Yes, you’re an
idiot. My idiot. My wife.”
“See? Always focus on the bright side.”
* * *
Arriving at the courthouse was a nightmare on it’s own. There were people all
around – jurors, attorneys, and all sorts of people in general. However, they were
surprised to find that there was no media around whatsoever. They’d expected
overwhelming media attention, given Lexa’s parents’ reputation and overwhelming
wealth. But they saw not one reporter around the door of the courtroom, or even in
the near vicinity of the courthouse.
“Ok, here we go,” Clarke muttered as the door opened and they stepped into the
courtroom. It was big, it was old, and most of all, it was absolutely terrifying.
Not only Clarke but also Lexa was terrified to her core, and so tense that when she
sat down in her seat her back was as straight as a plank. Her jaw was clenched,
left hand curled to a fist at her side as she deliberately refused to look to her
right where she knew her parents sat. She didn’t want to see them. She didn’t want
to remember they were even there.
She didn’t want to be in this room, in these clothes, in this situation, none of it
whatsoever. She just wanted to scoop Clarke up in her arms and run off, away, take
Raven’s car and just go.
But she couldn’t do that.
The primary proceedings of the trial passed by as a blur; Lexa could barely
remember what Indra had said in her opening statement, nor what her parents had
said – no, all she could recall were the words ‘falsely accused of abuse, when all
they ever did was love their daughter’.
Those words stung at Lexa’s heart like poison, dripping with the trademark venom of
her parents. Her father was representing himself and her mother, and his voice was
low and almost pleading when he spoke about their overflowing love for their
daughter and of all their attempts to steer her onto the right path.
_They’re blaming me for everything. They’re making me look like I was just a
rebellious kid._
She glanced over at the jury nearby, and saw that only half was looking at her
father with a frown on their faces; the other half was genuinely listening, and
Lexa felt like she couldn’t breathe.
_They’re believing him._
But then he took his seat, and the court was called to hear their evidence. Lexa
watched as Indra stood, confident as ever, and walked out to the front to address
the jury and the court as a whole.
“Miss Griffin was subjected to great emotional distress and abuse by the defendants
over a significantly long period of time. As you can see from the documents before
you, Miss Griffin was taken to a large variety of therapists over her childhood,
many of which have later been proven to be what for the purposes of this case we’ll
call ‘conversion therapists’. Conversion therapy as a whole, while not banned, is
generally agreed as a form of psychological abuse, and thus is substantial evidence
of the extent to which the defendants’ abuse went.”
Lexa felt slight dread in her chest when she heard Indra draw in a breath. But then
she glanced over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Clarke, and their eyes met
for just one second – and all was alright again.
Their evidence to support their claim was long and dreary, consisting of various
witness statements of maids and chauffeurs and schoolteachers – there was even one
teacher who admitted to providing Lexa’s parents with information about her
friendships, and Lexa then realized that she had been the one to inform her parents
about Costia. But there was so much more than that – there was a written statement
from Doctor Monty Green, as well as various medical reports and a whole load of
evidence proving Lexa’s parents had requested her school to apply their ‘strictest
rules’ on her, which Indra then was able to prove and demonstrate was code for both
psychological and physical abuse. There were transcripts of medical records showing
old, healed breaks in her bones – hairline and greenstick fractures, and a poorly
healed broken wrist – all of which were then explained by a medical professional to
be indicative of past physical abuse.
It was overwhelming, and by the time it came Lexa’s turn to take the stand, her
head was spinning.
“I would now like to call for Miss Griffin to take the stand.”
For a second, the whole world fell silent. She was afraid, and she also was not –
she was nauseous, but she also was not. The desire to put up a mask and hide
everything, hide her fear and her anxiety and her sheer exhaustion, it was so
overwhelmingly powerful that she had to take a second to steady herself before
walking over to the stand.
She took her seat, and for the first time that day, looked at her parents.
And the fear exploded within her chest.
> ah the potential for hurt&comfort is too good in this fic

> everyone have a wonderful thursday evening reading this instead of watching the
shitstorm(although I'm excited to see what happens to the show's ratings tomorrow)
> my blog @clexy-polarbear is always available if anyone wants to come talk or
shoot me an ask or just enjoy some clexa-ness
38. Chapter 38
> TW: mentions of suicide

> RIGHT SO LET ME JUST CLARIFY: their anniversary is on FEBRUARY 17th, I fucked up
with the dates and I'm a mess but just know that their anniversary was not just
skipped over, it's still coming
> also can I just say that I am in awe of this fandom? we're being heard, and I
know the show got renewed but still - it's amazing what we've accomplished.
The seat in which she sat was uncomfortable; there was leather, there was padding,
but somehow it felt like something was trying to hold her, trying wrap it’s arms
around her and keep her down and chained and restrain her from even the simplest
tasks. Lexa wanted to run out of the room, yearned to – but she was all too aware
that she couldn’t. The reality of her situation matched in no way what she wanted
in her mind, and that she hated the most of all.
Her mother was sneering at her. She looked furious, and were there not several
yards of space in between them, Lexa would have surely flinched in anticipation of
a slap. She could see those cursed hands curled into tight fists, the knuckles
which had so often been the perpetrators of bruises on Lexa’s skin so pale white
Lexa was sure the bones would burst out. Her mouth, her poisonous, vile mouth was
pursed shut, the lips stretched out thin and Lexa saw now that the vein on her neck
was just slightly bulging. She was enraged, but she hid it well. None but Lexa
could even tell, and besides, the attention of the room was not on her.
First they were all fixed on Indra; she stood slowly, her stance strong and
powerful like that of a prowling lioness – but her eyes, fixed on Lexa’s face, were
kind and warm, and Lexa felt her breath ease just the slightest bit.
The questions Indra asked were neither kind nor easy; no, they got right to the
point, asking Lexa to detail exactly what her parents had done to her, and what had
happened at all the various therapists’; Lexa answered each question with a slow
and steady voice, her hand gripping the edge of her seat as she recounted each vile
word, each slap, every single bruise on her body and on her soul. It felt to her
that each injury, mental or physical, was in her in that instant; when she
described the time her mother had pushed her into a kitchen counter, she felt the
stabbing pain of two broken ribs and the massive bruise on her side which hadn’t
faded for weeks. When she recounted all the times they’d called her names, berated
her, told her that she was an abomination, she could feel her entire core shaking
with the want to release the sobs which she was fighting to suppress. She couldn’t
contain her emotions completely, and neither did she want to – Indra had told her
what she knew was true. Showing that she was hurt, that she was afraid, that she
was on the verge of tears, they all worked to help her case.
She spoke even though her voice shook, she let everything out and cared no longer
about how it would affect her. No detail was spared; no, she disclosed every single
time her parents had hurt her, had shown their hatred for her and their intentional
abuse. She could feel the eyes of the jury peering at her, _pitying_ her, and she
hated that most of all. To them, she appeared weak. She had returned to her parents
after turning 18, when she could’ve left; she had gone to college and _come back_ ,
and thus Lexa could easily imagine them thinking that everything that had ensued
after she’d become an adult was her fault.
It wasn’t, of course. Lexa knew that. She’d returned because her parents hadn’t
given her any choice, and she told them of that too when Indra asked her. She told
the court how her entire career had been put on the line, and how they’d used the
threat of massive college debt if she left – they’d only pay if she agreed to stay,
if she remained there, if she promised to work for the family and to be the ‘good
daughter’ they wanted.
By the end, she was certain that most of the jury was on her side. They looked at
her with not just pity, but with sympathy, but even so, Lexa was disgusted.
She looked weak, sitting in the chair and trying to appear as small as she could,
her voice barely audible and shaking as she spoke. She knew she wasn’t weak, and
hated appearing so. She was strong, she knew that, Clarke told her that almost
every day – Lexa could’ve easily beaten her parents one-on-one, but this was not
her comfort zone. This was not a place where she felt like she could be heard
truly; she trusted Indra, and she trusted their case, but she could not shake the
feeling and the knowledge that this was her parents’ territory.
They may have had the upper hand with the cases, but with everything else, her
parents definitely had an advantage. And that was what terrified Lexa so.
And then Indra’s questions were done, and for the first time that day, Lexa felt a
moment of relief. She glanced over at Clarke, and saw that she was smiling at her –
that smile was more than enough to further make Lexa’s mood elevate, and for that
split second, everything was alright.
But of course the universe wouldn’t let her off that easily.
No, every eye in the courtroom was now focused on the man currently standing only a
short distance from Lexa, his stance strong and proud as he ran his eyes over every
person in the courtroom and in the jury. He had black hair, and a stubbly beard
which just looked messy; she knew his eyes all-too well, the apparent general
dislike of everything so prevalent behind the square glasses he always wore. But
that was outside the courtroom; inside, they burned with a fiery rage, fully
directed at Lexa, and she honestly felt like she was dying.
And then he spoke, and it was like acid had entered the room and replaced all the
oxygen – everything on Lexa’s body stung, her eyes most of them all – but she bit
her lip and forced herself to listen to what he was saying. She wasn’t going to
embarrass herself in front of him.
"Before I begin with the questions, I would like to clarify that I am indeed Jason
Woods, father of the plaintiff, and that I am conducting a pro se representation
for myself and my wife."
There were some nods around the jury, and Lexa felt like she would drop dead before
he got to his questions.
“Would you please tell the court what happened on the 29th of September in 2005?”
It was all that Lexa could to not react visibly. She hadn’t even remembered, hadn’t
known to expect this, and now that it had been brought up, she wanted to vomit.
“Is this relevant?”
“Answer the question.”
Lexa swallowed. “On the 29th of September, 2005, I was hospitalized.”
“And what for?”
“I attempted suicide.”
Clarke did not know this, neither did Indra; Lexa had fully forgotten about that
night, about her attempt on her own life – she’d pushed it so far into the back of
her mind that it had just not existed to her.
That is, it hadn’t existed to her until the moment her father had brought it up
again. And now she saw Clarke’s face had paled, her eyes wide and mouth slightly
open; Lexa could imagine what Clarke felt, the potential for feelings of betrayal
and pity most likely very high.
“And would you care to tell the court with what means you made this attempt?”
Lexa let out a shaky breath. “With pain killers and alcohol.”
“And who provided you this alcohol?”
Another shaky, exasperated sigh. “My friend, Anya.”
Anya hadn’t given her the pain killers. Anya hadn’t known what Lexa had wanted with
a bottle of vodka. But they’d been young, and stupid, and Lexa hated the fact that
her father was deliberately taking her words and making them seem like something
they weren’t.
_You made me to want to die, not Anya. Not anyone else. You._
“And you see, now, that this was what prompted us, the worried parents, to send our
daughter off to boarding school. Her friends were obviously a bad influence on her,
as is evident from her _suicide attempt_ , which her friend gladly aided her in. We
wanted to get her away from these bad influences, and the school was recommended to
us by a friend who told us how much it had changed her son’s life for the better.
Did they truly abuse you at the school?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re telling the truth?”

Lexa found a spark of anger within herself and glared at her father. “I am under
oath, as you recall. So yes, I am telling the truth. And you know very well that
you requested I be treated that way, and we had evidence-“
“Order.”
Lexa glanced up at the judge and flinched when his dark eyes fell upon her, and
promptly shut up.
“Does the defendant have any more questions?”
“No, your Honor.”
Lexa glared at her father’s back so hard she was sure he’d burst into flames any
second that moment. But he didn’t; no, he walked – or sauntered – back to his seat,
where he sat down with a satisfied smirk on his face. He knew he’d accomplished
something, and Lexa hated that.
She was furious at herself for forgetting about it all that when the judge called
for a recess, she was the first one out. She didn’t look at Indra, or Clarke – no,
she rushed out, hurried her way to the bathroom, where she locked herself into a
stall and slid down to sit onto the floor, tears now falling freely from her eyes
as she sobbed in quiet anger.
Clarke hadn’t been surprised that Lexa had stormed off. It had hurt a little, yes,
but she understood. And so she took a slight breather before heading down the hall
to the bathroom. She stepped in and instantly recognized the stifled sobs; a glance
under the door revealed that Lexa was curled up in a ball in the corner of the
stall, her heels kicked off to the side and her head buried in her hands. Clarke
slid down along the wall to sit down beside the door – she didn’t’ care that the
floor was dirty, or that it was cold. She didn’t try to get into the stall, either.
Lexa needed her space, and Clarke was waiting right outside it, ready for when she
was ready to come out.
After some time, Clarke noticed Lexa’s hand reach out for hers, and she reached
over to slip her hand into hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze, and felt the pain in
her heart amplify when she heard yet another whimper escape Lexa’s lips.
“I’m so sorry,” Clarke said quietly, “About the whole thing. It’s too much for
you.”
“But it’s not yours to be apologizing for. You’re not doing anything but making me
feel better,” Lexa mumbled. She sighed and let go of Clarke’s hand to wipe at her
face, and then stood up with shaky legs to open the door. Clarke stood outside,
eyes careful and cautious, but Lexa was in no need to be treated like she was made
of glass - she needed to feel something, desperately so. She threw her arms around
Clarke’s neck and pulled her closer, her face burying into Clarke’s neck as she
clung to her as though she feared she’d disappear the next second. New hot tears
wetted her cheeks and Clarke’s neck, but Lexa didn’t care. Clarke’s hands wrapped
around her and began rubbing her back, a soothing gesture which Lexa absolutely
adored – but in that instant, it did little to elevate her mood.
“I’m sorry,” Lexa muttered after a while. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I understand.”
“No, you don’t. I forgot it even happened, Clarke. If I’d remembered, I would’ve
told you. I trust you enough to have you knowing that, too. I want you to know
that.”
Clarke sighed and pulled Lexa in even closer. “My heart hurts for you, you know? I
hate every single bit of this. I hate seeing you so sad. I hate seeing you so
_broken_ , not when you’re so strong and so beautiful and great and just plain
amazing, and I- I hate it. You don’t deserve this. None of this. You deserve all
the world’s happiness, and yet you’re in the middle of the worst shitstorm of all
time. It's just cruel.”
Lexa’s right hand left Clarke’s neck and came to rest on her chest, atop her heart.
“I don’t like that your heart is hurting.”
“You’re hurting, so I’m hurting. That’s what marriage is about, isn’t it?”
“I wish you didn’t hurt.”
“Lexa, you don’t have to be so generous all the time. This is about you, not about
me. You’re the one who’s really hurting.”
Lexa’s eyes were fixed on her hand, resting on Clarke’s chest. She remained quiet
as she undid a few buttons of Clarke’s shirt and slipped her hand in so that she
could rest her hand on the same spot, only this time there was no fabric in between
their skin – she could feel Clarke’s pulse beneath her palm, strong and steady, and
it was all that she needed to ground herself. Clarke’s breath hitched just slightly
in her throat when Lexa’s fingers touched her skin, and when her palm pressed
against her altogether, she could feel her pulse racing; but she pushed those
thoughts out of her mind. Lexa wasn’t seeking for sex, no – she wanted to feel
Clarke, to know that Clarke was there.
Clarke knew this because Lexa had done it so many times before. Lexa always thought
Clarke didn’t notice how her fingers would usually rest on her pulse point, or how
her hand would usually be placed atop her heart when they were sleeping – nor did
Lexa think that Clarke noticed or realized why her thumb would press against
Clarke’s wrist when they held hands. But Clarke did know, and knew also not to say
anything of it; this was Lexa’s comfort, her way of calming herself, and if feeling
Clarke’s pulse and being reassured that she was indeed alive was what helped Lexa
to feel better, Clarke was more than happy to provide her that comfort.
“I want to forget,” Lexa finally began, “But I also don’t. I’m who I am because of
how I grew up.”
“I wish you’d had a happy childhood.”
“Then I probably never would have gone to Vegas on a whim last February.”
Clarke sighed. “That’s true.”
“Besides, all I want is to not have to relive any of it again.”
“I know this trial is hard. That this lawsuit is a challenge to you.”
Lexa pulled away just slightly and looked Clarke in her eyes. “It’s a challenge to
us. Your heart is hurting, too.”
Clarke brought up Lexa’s face so that she could lean her forehead against hers. A
gentle smile was playing on her lips, and Lexa returned it; for a while, neither of
them spoke, and for that little while, the rest of the world fell away.
“I love you.”
Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat as though she were hearing this for the first
time. It wasn’t – no, it was probably closer to the millionth time she’d heard it –
but still, the novelty was still there, and right now, those three words had been
what she’d been missing and unable to properly place.
“I love you too,” Lexa murmured as she kissed her wife. “And I’m sorry about the…
thing.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “I understand. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t
want to.”
“Anya didn’t have anything to do with it. She didn’t know.”
“I figured.”
“They’re using it against me, they’re using something I did because of _them_ to
get themselves out of trouble.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“But we’ll win, right? We had too much evidence, we have such a strong case, we-“
“Lexa, it’ll be fine. But we need to get going. We’ve got about five minutes till
the court reconvenes.”
> hands up who hates Jason Woods?

> my heart is hurting for Lexa, she deserves happiness but i can't help but throw
in some hurt&comfort because it's precious and Clarke is literally the best wife of
all time
39. Chapter 39
> i didn't update yesterday because i was tired and sleepy(I'm perfectly fine,
thank you to those of you who were absolute sweethearts and sent me messages asking
if i was okay) and i couldn't find any place where i could cut off
> so this chapter is long AF
> the legal shit in this chapter was cumbersome af i'm glad that's over
> but anyway, enjoy ~
Returning to the courtroom was as agonizing as it had been entering it the first
time; Lexa could feel all eyes on her, and hated every second of it. She walked
with shaky legs, and wanted nothing more than to never let go of Clarke’s hand –
but they had seats in different places, and so the moment came that the warmth that
had thus far kept her composure for her slipped away.
Lexa breathed in then, and walked the remaining steps to her seat. The instant she
sat down, Indra turned to face her, and Lexa knew what she was going to say before
she did.
Or she thought, anyway.
“You forgot about it, didn’t you?”

Lexa gaped at her, having expected her to be mad about leaving such an important
point out; she’d expected Indra to demand an answer, to not understand – and so
when she’d said the one thing Lexa had secretly hoped for, she found herself
dumbfounded.
“Uh, yeah. I- I just…I pushed it out of my mind.”
Indra nodded. “Good. We’ll play that to our advantage. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I guess. As much as I can be, right?”
And so the remaining minutes before the judge’s return were spent in Lexa quietly
recounting the night of September 29th, 2005, and Indra scribbling notes, muttering
some words here and there as she outlined the true story of what had happened.
Right before the court reconvened, Indra looked up from her notes and actually
smiled.
“It’s okay. This is good. I’ve got this.”
Lexa trusted her enough to allow the sliver of hope in her heart to grow. Even in
the face of her father rising up from his seat once again, her hope did not quiver;
no, she had faith, she had hope, and she wasn’t about to let that wreck her. Even
if they lost, she’d still have Clarke.
And Clarke was all that she really wanted.
The defense’s array of evidence and witnesses consisted mainly of various

psychologists’ reports on Lexa’s mental status, of medical records proving Lexa’s
apparent drug addiction and overdose(which Indra then shot down, thus severely
shaking her parent's stance), and of a number of people whose statements basically
all read the same: according to them, Lexa was and always had been a troublesome,
rebellious child, and she had always been out to undermine her parents’ and their
career. There were old nannies and chauffeurs, a gardener who Lexa was sure had
probably been well-paid to even appear, given the messy way her parents had fired
him some years earlier. In any other case, this set of evidence would have been
impressive and effective; but Indra’s evidence and witnesses had been better, and
the woman turned out to be incredibly talented at tearing down witnesses and
disproving evidence. One witness, a young maid Lexa recalled had been laid off when
she’d just started middle school, Indra tore down so effectively that she actually
cried before admitting that she hadn’t in reality seen anything other than a few
spouts of angry words exchanged between Lexa and her parents, even adding that most
of the angry words had come from her parents. Judging by the looks of the jury,
Lexa saw that Indra’s tearing down of her parents’ defense was effective; there
were agreeable nods and attentive eyes, and that in turn made Lexa feel good.
In fact, she felt great. Indra was ripping apart the defense so intricately
constructed by her parents – the very same people who had once been dubbed the
‘ever-victorious’ in legal circles, because they never lost - and it was glorious
to watch.
And now it was looking like they would indeed lose, and that was more than enough
to make Lexa feel giddy. A glance behind her revealed to her that Clarke was
feeling the same; although her lips were tightly pursed shut, Lexa saw the same
glimmer in her eyes, and the brief moment of eye contact told her just how much
reassurance Clarke was trying to communicate to her.
“And now, for our last witness, I call to the stand Michelle Storey.”
Clarke saw the blood drain from Lexa’s face in the split second before her head
snapped back around to look at the woman currently making her way to the stand. A
moment of confusion passed over Clarke’s mind – she had no idea who this woman was,
only that Lexa was absolutely terrified of her, and that worried her to no end. She
tore her eyes away from Lexa’s tense shoulders and clenched fist to look at the
woman sitting in the stand. She looked about fifty, with dyed brown hair and a
plastic-looking face; her eyebrows were thin and quite obviously drawn on, and her
eyes were sharp and cruel-looking, scouring the room before fixating on Lexa.
Clarke wanted to slap her the instant she saw Lexa flinch under her gaze. There was
only one other person other than her parents that could have made Lexa flinch like
that, and so Clarke wasn’t surprised when Lexa’s father introduced her as the Head
of Behavioural Treatment at Meadow Ridge Institute – Lexa’s old school – and as her
old tutor.
“Now, Miss Storey – would you like to tell the court what your relationship to miss
Alexandria Woods was?”
At that, Indra darted up from her seat. “Objection, your Honor.”
The judge peered at her for a few moments before nodding at her to continue.
“My client’s name is no longer Alexandria Woods, and would like to be referred to
by her legal name, Lexa Griffin.”
The weight that had descended onto Lexa’s heart when she’d heard her old name
dissipated when the judge nodded again. “Agreed. You may continue.”
Lexa saw that her father’s jaw was clenched, and knew he was furious. The anger
within him crept through in his voice when he cleared his throat and said: “Yes, my
apologies. What was your relationship to Lexa Griffin?”
The satisfaction in Lexa’s mind was overwhelming when she heard him say her name.
But then the woman opened her mouth, and she forgot where she was altogether. It
had been years since she’d heard it last, and yet, she felt herself freeze up and
her mind go blank with fear.
_Push it down. Hide it. Don't let her see that you're afraid._
Lexa tried to shake off the feeling, tried to push herself to stay aware of what
was happening, but the sniveling voice of her tutor – no, her abuser – was like a
repeated series of whiplashes to her back and heart and soul.
“I was her teacher during her time at the Institute, and her personal tutor after
it was discovered that she had some…personal issues.”
“And you can confirm that we – my wife and I – did request for you to conduct these
therapy sessions?”
“Yes, as was clear from the evidence provided earlier.”
“Could you briefly explain for what reasons we requested these meetings?”
“Miss Woo- I mean Miss Griffin had been sent to the Institute because she had been
under some bad influences. After it became clear that she was not adjusting well to
our rather plain environment, we agreed unilaterally that the best course of action
was that I would monitor and help her wherever necessary,” the woman explained, her
voice calm and cool. “She had already exhibited some signs of slipping to her worse
ways, and we were concerned for her health.”
“And do you deny that we requested ‘special treatment’ for our daughter?”
“No, I do not. From what I understood, you were simply concerned parents. I
especially noted the concerns of her mother, who confessed to me that she only
wished the best for her daughter. It is disappointing to find that our attempts to
guide her were in vain.”
“So, according to you, none of the abuse which the plaintiff has claimed to have
occurred took place?”
“No, it did not.”
“Then how do you explain all of the various medical records which the plaintiff has
provided, proving that she did in fact undergo severe physical abuse during the
time which she spent at the school?”
“I will admit that there were some very physical kids at the school. After all, we
were an institute known for taking in troubled kids and helping them get over their
problems. We couldn’t possibly keep an eye on them at all times. It would have
helped if she had spoken up.”
Lexa only barely stifled the whimper that emerged in her throat. She was so furious
and yet so stuck in her own mind, the woman’s voice causing chills and shivers to
run down her spine. Her mouth burned, her eyes stung, and she could feel every
single bruise ever inflicted onto her skin by her hands. Her hand came to rest on
her stomach, where a scar was still prominent where the large opal ring on the
woman’s hand had once struck her so hard it had drawn blood. That same ring was on
her hand now, glinting in the hazy sunlight that crept through the blinds of the
courtroom, and Lexa couldn’t help but flinch in the face of the memories of her
past weakness. She may have been strong now, but that did not change the fact that
she had once not been – the memories of that were swimming in her mind now, and
were all that she could see and feel.
She barely noticed that Indra had left her side and walked up to stare at the woman
sitting in the stand. Her stance was poised, her arms clasped together behind her
back as she studied her for just the slightest moment before voicing her question.
“So, just to clarify, you claim that you never laid a hand on Miss Griffin, in any
way or form?”
“Yes.”
Indra nodded slowly before bringing up a piece of paper. “Then how do you explain
this ER report from the 4th of August, 2008, from a hospital approximately five
hours from the Institute, claiming that a young woman matching my client’s
description, a Jane Doe, was dropped off at the hospital by a woman matching a
description of you?”
“I’m sorry, is this relevant?”
The judge looked at Indra. “Is it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then go on.”
“My client is willing to give a statement that she was indeed taken to various
hospitals around the school’s vicinity for treatment for her various injuries. In
most cases, there was barely any evidence, but on this specific event, there is
video camera footage which I am ready to present to the court, clearly showing Miss
Storey driving up to the hospital and dragging my client out, leaving her in the
parking lot to be found. This is a severe case of negligence, not to mention it
raises a multitude of questions. However, my primary question for Miss Storey then
stands; do you admit to doing this, or do you deny it?”
The woman sitting in the stand had gone pale – paler than she had been, anyway.
“Uh…”
“Answer the question, Miss Storey.”
Miss Storey’s sharp, sneering eyes were now filled with fear and confusion. She
looked to Lexa’s parents, seeking advice, but only received cold stares and shakes
of heads.
“I deny it.”
“So you never took my client to Stockbridge Hospital on August 4th of 2008 for
treatment for severe injuries, ranging from broken ribs and a shattered wrist to
countless bruises and a black eye?”
“No, I did not.”
Lexa felt victorious then; when Indra then pulled up the video footage, which was
surprisingly clear and obviously depicted her tutor driving up to the hospital and
dragging her limp body out of the car and leaving her in the parking lot, she
barely even noticed the pain in her gut. No, what she cared for was the fact that
they’d caught her in a lie.
“Do you still deny that it was you who brought my client to Stockbridge Hospital?”
“No.”
“So, to clarify, you took her to the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“You are aware that you are under oath, and have thus violated the rules of court?”
There was a long pause, which was broken by the judge. “Miss Storey, I am giving
you your first warning. Another slip like this, and I will be forced to hold you
contempt.”
The woman swallowed hard, and nodded. “Understood.”
“Do you still have questions for the witness?”
Indra smiled. “Yes, I do.”
“Proceed.”
What then ensued was a long while of Indra impressively tearing down Miss Storey’s
tale, breaking it down into pieces and disproving each part, effectively
manipulating Miss Storey into almost admitting to the abuse, along with efficiently
implying that the circumstances of this singular event suggested that Miss Storey
had something to hide. 'If it had been a simple case of bullying, you surely
wouldn't have taken her to a hospital six hours away, now would you?'
By the end, Miss Storey had admitted to Lexa’s abuse in all but name; the guilt was
implied, and even that was impressive, given the fact that the woman could have
easily denied everything. But Indra was good at what she did, and so her questions
resulted in a thoroughly embarrassed and flustered Miss Storey, whose statement was
thus rendered completely useless for the defense and became part of their own
claim.
And then it came time for the closing statements. Lexa’s parents went first; their
whole claim was well constructed and persuasive, and painted a picture of two
loving parents struggling to control and maintain their rebellious child. They
basically claimed that every piece of evidence was wrongfully interpreted, but in
the face of all the disproving that Indra had already done, it was in no way
effective. Lexa only half listened to them; she did not want to wound herself any
further by taking their words into heart, by listening to what they believed – she
knew they were aware that they were lying, but even so, she couldn’t help but
remind herself that their own perspective did align with what her father was
saying. They _did_ believe that all that they did had been justified, and that
terrified her most of all.
_They didn’t believe they’d done anything wrong._
Her father finished his statement with the words: “I just hope that you, the
jurors, and the court, will see the truth of this situation; our daughter, so loved
and so cared for, has simply lost all respect for what we stand for, and her
attempts to undermine us run very deep. She has no love to hold for us, and that
wounds her mother very deeply – and so I call you to see our side, to support the
truth – because that is what we stand for.”
It was effective, it was persuasive, and Lexa wanted to throw him out of the window
for each word that left his mouth. Looking around the room, she saw varying levels
of annoyance and hatred burning in the eyes of the jury and the few people seated
in court. Even their own witnesses looked displeased, and so when he sat down, Lexa
was more than happy to discard his existence altogether to pay attention to Indra’s
closing statement.
Most of what she said was just restating what she’d already established over the
course of the trial; Lexa was the victim of years of torment, of intentional
psychological and physical abuse, and this had been proved tenfold by the evidence
presented as well as the failures of the defendant to provide functional evidence
to disprove their accused crime. She reminded the court of the fact that she had
personally torn down the entire school to which Lexa had been sent to, and brought
back to their attentions the various transcripts and records stating that Lexa had
been involved and enrolled in their ‘anti-gay’ conversion therapies and ‘courses’.
She did not need to paint a picture; no, all she stated were the facts, the truth,
in a way which was perceivable and effective; Lexa was the victim of her parents,
of their homophobic views and their near-sadistic need to control her.
“My client has persevered through all their torment, and has remained a strikingly
functional person despite all the attempts of her parents to tear her down. She
only wishes to receive recognition for the pain that she was inflicted, for the
abuse and for the complete and utter deprivation of personal freedom which her
parents forced upon her. She wishes for security, to feel safe in her life, and
this is why we are calling for a restraining order to be put in place against her
parents. She also wishes for her experiences and the crimes against her to be
recognized. What her parents did is a crime which cannot be overlooked, and thus we
call for them to be charged with the full and appropriate extent of their
offenses.”
When Indra finished, the silence that resided over the court was tense and
powerful. Her voice echoed in the room for a short while as she made her way back
to sit down beside Lexa. A moment later, the court went into another recess as the
jury deliberated. Clarke made her way to Lexa as soon as she could, and the first
touch of Clarke’s hand on Lexa’s cheek was so soft and perfect that Lexa only then
realized just how horrible she felt.
“How are you doing?”
Lexa sighed. “Shit.”
“But the case is going well, isn’t it?”
Lexa took Clarke’s hand into hers and sighed again. “Let’s not jinx it.”
Clarke nodded and moved the chair she'd sat in closer to Lexa’s. “It’s almost done.
And then we’ll go home, and I’ll send Raven off to get those ribs you like, and
we’ll have a nice bath and I'll give you a massage, and-“
“Clarke.”
“Hm?”
Lexa said nothing, only snuck in a quick kiss, which surprised Clarke greatly.
“Sorry, I just needed to.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Do you see me complaining?”
Lexa shrugged. “I just…I hate this.”
“I know you do,” Clarke murmured, her hand stroking Lexa’s cheek gently. “But at
least we’re almost done with this.”
Lexa opened her mouth, about to speak, when the jury came back into the courtroom.
It was sooner than she’d expected, and so the anxiety in her gut arose so fast she
barely even noticed Clarke pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before heading back
to her own seat.
The judge received the jury’s decision, and for the longest moment in her life,
Lexa waited. She prayed then, despite never having believed in God – she prayed to
every god in existence, to anything she could think of, because she was just so
tired of all this. She was exhausted.
She just wanted to be at peace.
The judge cleared his throat. “Having reviewed both sides of this case, the court
finds that the evidence provided by the plaintiff is substantial enough to outweigh
the objections of the defense. It is thus the judgement of this court that Mr.
Jason Woods and Mrs. Shawna Woods are guilty of extensive psychological abuse of
their daughter, Lexa Griffin, née Alexandria Woods, and also of physical abuse to
some extent, both spanning the time frame of several years. For these damages, they
are subject to paying financial compensation, which is to be decided at a later
time. It is also the judgement of the court that the restraining order requested by
the plaintiff will be granted. The court is dismissed.”
Lexa was not able to comprehend anything past the words ‘are guilty’, because in
that instant, relief washed over her in such an overwhelming way that she surely
would have fainted and collapsed had she been standing. A smile spread onto her
face, and she leaned her head against her hands, fearing she’d cry or behave
inappropriately. She did not notice the proud smile that had spread onto Indra’s
face, nor did she see the absolute joy that was evident in Clarke’s presence. The
instant the court was dismissed and everyone rose as the judge left the room,
Clarke began making her way over to Lexa, who she engulfed in a hug so tight Lexa
could barely breathe.
“I told you,” Clarke laughed, “It’s fine. You’re fine. We won. You won!”
Lexa wrapped her arms around her wife and buried her face into her neck. “I can’t-
I’m just so…this is incredible.”
She glanced up just slightly to catch sight of the fury that emanated from her
parents; she half wanted to go over and rub their victory in their faces, but the
fact remained that the only thing keeping her from collapsing completely was Clarke
– Clarke’s arms around her, holding her up, her hands pressing onto her back and
keeping her in place, they all kept her composure for Lexa. She had no desire to
ever leave her arms.
When Clarke finally pulled away, Lexa took her hand – she didn’t want her to go,
not when she was feeling so weak and reeling from just about everything that had
happened to her in her life – and Clarke squeezed her hand just slightly as Indra
placed a hand on Lexa’s shoulder.
“As your wife said,” Indra smiled, “I told you.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Thank you. I mean it.”
“Nothing brings me more joy than tearing down people like your parents. So really,
I should be thanking you.”
“I do have a question, though.”
“Yes?”
“Is this case being handled as a ‘sensitive’ case?”
Indra made a face. “Yes. That was only introduced about two days ago, and with
everything else, I figured it wasn’t as important. But technically speaking, you
are not permitted to leak any information regarding this case to the media. So far
as the world is concerned, the Woods’ public figure is still intact.”
“How can they do that?” Clarke demanded. “They-“
“It’s better for you, too. You don’t want to get caught up into the media storm.”
“But they deserve to crash and burn.”
“If I’d complained, the trial would have been transferred to another date. This way
it was better, I think.”
Lexa smiled. “Yes, it was better. I don’t care. I’m done with them.”
“That you are,” Indra smiled. “But now you two should go home and rest. You deserve
it.”
“What time do you want me at work tomorrow?”
Indra laughed then. “Oh, you needn’t come to work all week. You’ve just gone
through an ordeal, and you did so much work last week that it’s more than fine.
Take the time you need to heal.”
Lexa nodded, and Clarke then began leading her out of the courtroom and out of the
courthouse. All the way home, neither of them spoke; they held hands in the back of
the cab and couldn’t stop smiling, and when they reached home, Clarke stopped only
briefly at Raven’s apartment to tell her to get off of Anya and get her ass
downtown to get Lexa’s favorite ribs. After Raven had hugged them both and
exclaimed her happiness for both of them, she scurried off, not even complaining
about her sudden errand or the interruption. She recognized that Clarke and Lexa
needed time together, and was more than happy to help.
Anya, too, got over her annoyance at the interruption very quickly, and after
congratulating the two of them she sent them off to their own apartment with the
words ‘go, celebrate, but don’t hurt yourselves’.
Clarke practically skipped all the way down the hall, and when she entered their
home, she thought the evening would consist of cuddling and comforting Lexa. But
instead Lexa grabbed her and slammed her against the door, her lips claiming
Clarke’s possessively and void of any weakness whatsoever. Clarke took this turn of
events with caution, but as Lexa continued to press against her and pinned her
hands above her head, she was rendered incapable of any other sounds except
whimpers and moans as Lexa grinded her knee against her core and kissed her so
roughly her lips tingled at the contact.
“Lexa,” Clarke breathed as Lexa practically ripped her shirt open and pulled it off
of her, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Lexa hummed and pressed a kiss onto Clarke’s jaw. “I need this, Clarke,” she
murmured, “And you do too, I just need to be close to you, to feel you, to-“
Clarke chuckled and ran her hands through Lexa’s hair as the brunette unzipped her
skirt and let it drop to the ground. “You need to feel in control, don’t you?”
Lexa paused and looked at Clarke, eyes dark with lust and full of a plea Clarke was
already more than willing to satisfy. “If you’ll allow me.”
Clarke threw her arms around Lexa’s neck and jumped into her arms, legs wrapping
around Lexa’s waist as her lips found hers. “Yes, I’ll allow you,” Clarke breathed.
“You did so well today.”
* * *
A while and a few orgasms later, Lexa was laying on her stomach on their bed, her
back bare, with Clarke’s fingers drawing irregular patterns along the smooth skin.
She was asleep, her breaths steady and slow, and Clarke relished seeing her so
peaceful. Lexa had been so desperate, and had fucked her with an incessant need to
be closer to her; she was a little sore, but it was a good sort of sore – above
anything else, Clarke was satisfied, and Lexa was too.
She heard the doorbell ring, and pressed a gentle kiss onto Lexa’s shoulder before
getting up and grabbing a robe and heading downstairs. Opening the door to reveal
Raven holding bags of takeout was no surprise to her at all, and she smiled upon
seeing her.
“How is she?” Raven asked as she handed Clarke the bags. “I see you’ve already
gotten busy, but is she okay?”
Clarke shrugged. “It’ll take time, I think. She’s sleeping right now.”
Raven offered her a gentle, genuine smile. “If you need anything, I’m just down the
hall. Or shoot me a text. I'm open to any request, so long as you - well, Lexa -
get the rest you need.”
“Sure thing. Thanks for the ribs, I’ll pay you back later.”
“No need. I’m happy to help.”
Clarke smiled again as she shut the door, and left the bags into the kitchen as she
headed upstairs to tell Lexa that the food was all set. But when she entered their
bedroom, she did not find her sleeping – no, she found her curled up on the bed,
sobbing, and Clarke’s heart wrenched with such pain that she actually let out a
little cry as she rushed over to the bed.
“Lexa?”
Clarke was afraid to touch Lexa; she didn’t want to impose on her, not when she was
in a state, and so she waited for a little while, sitting nearby, until suddenly
Lexa sat up and threw herself into Clarke’s arms entirely, her sobs never ceasing
but her arms tightening around Clarke’s waist as she pressed her face into Clarke’s
chest. Clarke sighed and pulled her in closer, and held her as she cried, murmuring
quiet words of comfort to Lexa as her hand ran up and down her back in an attempt
to soothe her.
After a long while, Lexa’s sobs ceased, but she didn’t let go of Clarke. Instead,
she sighed, sniffled, and nuzzled herself even closer, feeling Clarke’s warmth
envelop her and comfort her completely.
“How bad is it?” Clarke asked quietly.
“I just had a dream,” Lexa mumbled. “Of…my tutor.”
Clarke inhaled sharply. “It’s okay. She can’t get to you now.”
“I know.”
“I know you know, but I feel like I still need to reassure you. You’re safe, Lexa.
You’re okay. She’ll have to get through me to get to you. Anyone would.”
Lexa let out a half-hearted laugh. “I’d kick her ass if she tried now. It’s just,
the dream…”
Clarke rubbed Lexa’s arm and sighed. “I know.”
“Why’d you go to the door?”
“The ribs are here.”
Lexa was quiet for a while. “Could we eat them in bed?”
“You want to eat ribs in bed?” Clarke exclaimed. “You, who complained that one time
I managed to get _one_ tiny paint stain on your beautiful satin sheets?”
Lexa made a face. “They’re _our_ beautiful satin sheets. And the stain’s still
there.”
“I’m not saying we can’t, I’m asking if you’ll regret it after the first bbq sauce
stain is made.”
Lexa pulled Clarke’s head downwards and captured her lips for a kiss. “I don’t want
to leave bed. Ever.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Fair enough, my queen.”
“Queen?”
“Yes, my queen. My liege. My everything. My Commander. Your wish is my command.”
Lexa swatted Clarke’s shoulder lightly and let go of her altogether. “Go get the
ribs. I’m hungry.”
But instead, Clarke’s hand came up to cup Lexa’s cheek, and Lexa looked into her
eyes to find them filled with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”
Lexa smiled softly, and wiped the few remaining tears from her eye. “Yeah,” she
began, “But I won’t be if I don’t get my ribs soon.”
Clarke got up and walked out of the room to get the food, and while she was at it,
Lexa got herself and Clarke some pajamas. When Clarke returned with the bags of
food and some plates, along with some glasses and a bottle of Sprite, she came in
to find Lexa sitting cross legged on the bed, clad in the hoodie she’d given Lexa
for Christmas and Clarke’s favorite leggings.
“I’m letting this slide this once,” Clarke grumbled as she handed Lexa the bags and
grabbed the clothes which Lexa had picked out for her, “Because I promised I’d do
everything. But you better not get any sauce on those leggings.”
Lexa’s face lit up as she opened the bag and smelled the delicious ribs, and Clarke
couldn’t help but laugh a little. Lexa then shot her a playful glare, but Clarke
only made a face and continued her laughter.
“You look like a kid on Christmas morning,” Clarke told her, “It’s adorable.”
Lexa, who had set up the ribs and divided the more or less evenly onto the two
plates, picked up one and bit into it, never breaking eye contact with Clarke. With
sauce smeared onto her face, she jutted her chin and smiled widely before replying.
“That’s right, it’s Christmas for me. No more of my parents. And I’ve got ribs. And
you.”
“And I was thinking we could have a bath?”
“We’re out of my favorite candles," Lexa pouted. "It won't be the same."
“Nope, we’re not.” Clarke interrupted, pulling out a smaller bag and showcasing the
three candles within it. “I asked Raven to pick some up.”
The smile on Lexa’s face widened even more, and she reached over to kiss Clarke on
the mouth, effectively smearing her face with sauce as well.
“God, Lexa, wipe your face.”
“You could do it for me.” Lexa suggested. Her idea had been that Clarke would take
care of it with her mouth, and Clarke knew this – but instead she threw a handful
of napkins at Lexa’s face, eliciting a wonderfully rippling laughter to escape her
lips.
And so they ate together, and laid on the bed side by side for a long while
afterwards, trying to let the food settle in their stomachs. As always, they’d
eaten a little bit too much, but they didn’t care; they were comfortable, they were
happy, and there was no shadow looming over them.
A innumerable amount of kisses were exchanged that afternoon; Clarke wouldn’t stop
littering kisses along Lexa’s skin, her lips pressing kisses onto her hands and
fingertips and palms and onto her neck and jaw and cheeks and temples and onto her
lips – Lexa loved this, and loved the attention she was the center of, and Clarke
in turn relished the chance she had to devote all her attention to Lexa and see her
grow happier with each kiss that touched her soft skin.
They bathed together, comfortably silent with the fresh scent of sage and citrus
floating all around them from the candles sitting on the counter; the edges of the
tub were lined with tea lights, and no other light was needed in their bathroom.
Soft jazz was playing from the portable speaker, and the bath itself was laced with
oils and soaps which smelled of lemon and lavender, and the bubbles were so high
they touched Lexa’s nose as she laid behind onto Clarke’s chest. Clarke took that
position to slowly begin massaging Lexa, her hands kneading her back and shoulders
in a way which elicited low moans from Lexa’s throat. The hot water, the hazy
light, and the wonderful scent all paired with the amazing feeling of Clarke’s
hands to render Lexa entirely spent and relaxed, and when they finally got out of
the bath, they both crawled over to the bed and fell asleep, entangled in each
other’s arms without a single thread of clothing between them. The steady beat of
Clarke’s heart and the all-encompassing feel of Clarke’s arms around her lulled
Lexa to sleep, and soon after her, Clarke fell asleep as well.
> that was an emotional rollercoaster, wasn't it?

> hurt&comfort is once again prominent, but the fluff is so precious i simply
cannot deal
> also how badass is indra, i love her she's wonderful
> (also Raven is my baby but I think I've already established that)
40. Chapter 40
> this fic feels like a marathon, but a good kind - i do get tired at times but at
this point i'd feel weird not uploading each day(there's a chance I may be
addicted)
> the characters continue to surprise me, especially when fluff turns over to smut
- and yes, i get shocked by my own writing, it's not that weird (right?)
> we'll see where the story takes us now, i do have one more thing up my
sleeve...at least.
Lexa awoke in the morning feeling weightless. She’d slept through the night without
a single nightmare, and was feeling rested and, well, free.
Her parents were done with. They couldn’t get near her, not now – she knew they
were smart enough to obey the restraining order, and it didn’t even matter to Lexa
that they hadn’t received the media shitstorm that should have ensued. She just
didn’t care about them anymore.
What she did care about was right there in her arms. At some point during the
night, their positions had flipped so that Lexa now lay on the bottom, with Clarke
on her, the blonde’s face pressed into her chest and arm slung lazily over Lexa’s
stomach. She was still fast asleep, which in itself was a rare occurrence. Usually
Clarke was the first one awake.
Lexa now looked down at her sleeping face, and saw that she was curled up against
Lexa, as though she were trying to hide from something, protected from the world in
Lexa's arms. Lexa knew Clarke hadn’t passed through the trial without it taking a
toll on her; she knew Clarke was exhausted, and had already made sure to tell her
some words of solace to try and comfort her. Even though the trial had been about
Lexa, and they both knew that, Lexa was also very aware that Clarke had been
affected.
And so she remained still and allowed Clarke to sleep, focusing on the feel of
Clarke’s chest expanding with each deep breath which she inhaled. Her hair had been
in a bun when they’d gone to bed, but it had undone itself during the night, and
golden locks were splayed messily around Clarke’s face, framing it in the most
adorable way Lexa knew. She yearned to reach up and trace the features of Clarke’s
face, to run her fingers up her jaw and along her cheek to tap at her adorable
nose, to run her thumb over her cracked and dry lips which still looked
irresistible to her. But she didn’t; she remained still, knowing how easily Clarke
was woken in the mornings, and simply admired and enjoyed the peace and quiet.
About half an hour later, Clarke stirred in her sleep, and when one eye cracked
open just slightly to peer at Lexa, the brunette was unable to keep the smile from
her lips.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Lexa said softly, her hand running up along Clarke’s arm.
Clarke opened her mouth to reply, but instead she yawned, and hid her face into
Lexa’s chest in such an endearing way that Lexa couldn’t help but laugh.
“How long have you been awake?” Clarke asked. She shuffled a little bit upwards and
laid her head onto the pillow beside Lexa’s, her eyes drowsy and hazed over from
still being extremely sleepy.
“A while.”
“You could have woken me.”
“You looked so pretty.”
Clarke rolled her eyes and kissed her, slowly and deeply, and Lexa sighed into the
kiss; her arm around Clarke’s waist pulled her fully atop her, and for a long,
lingering moment, not a word was spoken.
“How’d you sleep?” Clarke asked. Her hand was tracing the lines of Lexa’s face, and
couldn’t fail to notice the bags under her eyes which had been ever-so prominent
for almost two weeks. She did think they appeared a little lighter, but that might
just have been the sunlight pushing through the curtains of their bedroom.
“Wonderfully. You?”
Clarke smiled, but that smile turned into another yawn, and Lexa laughed again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lexa smiled, “Seeing as you look like you’re ready to go
back to sleep.”
Clarke laid her head down onto the pillow and buried her face into Lexa’s neck, her
lips pressing a few kisses along her skin. “I’m just so comfy.”
Lexa sighed. “I know you are.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”
“But-“ Lexa began, and Clarke groaned. “I need to pee.”
“Screw you.”
But Clarke did roll off of Lexa, and Lexa slipped away with an apologetic smile,
leaving Clarke sprawled out on the bed. When she returned, she found that the
balcony door was open, and stepped outside to find Clarke standing there in nothing
but a t-shirt and underwear, in the chilly winter air, her eyes gazing along the
view.
“You should come inside before you catch a cold.”
“It’s so pretty.”
“I know.”
“And I could swear it’s quieter.”
Lexa peeked back inside to look at the clock on their wall. “It’s just barely six
am. No wonder.”
“New York’s never quiet.”
“Maybe it’s asleep,” Lexa said. “Now come inside, I don’t want you getting sick.”
Clarke grinned and came over, taking Lexa’s hand and leading her back inside and
down the stairs to the kitchen.
“I’ll make you breakfast.”
Lexa made a face. “No, you won’t.”
“Why not?”
“You’re an awful cook.”
“I make great scrambled eggs.”
Lexa just shook her head. “Sit on the counter and look cute, I’ll make us a
smoothie.”
“Can’t we have pancakes?”
“We’re out of eggs.”
“I’ll go see if Raven has some?”
Lexa laughed and nodded. “If you can get some eggs, we can have some pancakes.”
Clarke went over to the door, but paused when she realized she wasn’t wearing any
pants; deciding it was too much of an effort to go upstairs to retrieve any, she
headed into the kitchen, where Lexa was preparing herself a healthy cup of green
tea.
“What? Back already?”

“Take off your shorts.”
“What?”
Clarke stepped in and threw her a look as she hooked her thumbs under the waistband
of Lexa’s sleep shorts. “I need some pants.”
“So you’re taking mine? Which I’m wearing?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not wearing anything underneath.”
Clarke smirked as she knelt down, pulling the shorts down with her. “I’ll make it
up to you,” she murmured, pressing a quick kiss onto Lexa’s pussy before getting
up, putting on the shorts, and hurrying off and out of the door.
She pressed Raven’s doorbell at least five times before the door was finally opened
by an irritated-looking Anya.
“Clarke?”
“Anya? Where’s Raven?” Clarke asked, already half guessing the answer.
“She’s unavailable at the moment.”
“Aha.” Clarke said, pushing past Anya into the apartment. “I just need some eggs,
I’ll be out of your way in no time.”
She noticed how Anya went over to stand in between where Clarke stood and the
bedroom door – Clarke could only imagine what ‘unavailable’ meant, and was sure to
bring that up to Raven later.
Luckily enough, she found some eggs in Raven’s fridge, which was stocked full of
beer and microwaveable meals – evidently, Raven’s cooking skills had not improved.
She grabbed three eggs and hurried out of the apartment, pretending she hadn’t
heard the pained whimper from the bedroom.
When she came back to their home, she found Lexa standing in the foyer, tapping her
foot expectantly.
“My shorts, please.”
Clarke put the eggs down onto a table beside her, and smirked at Lexa. “Don’t you
want me to pay you back for borrowing them?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “What, here?”
Before she knew it, Clarke was already on her knees, her hands pulling Lexa’s hips
closer to her face. “Yes, here. If you want.”
Lexa stared down at Clarke, lips slightly parted, unable to form any coherent words
– she only nodded, and Clarke grinned slightly before spreading Lexa’s legs further
apart and pushing her up against the wall, her mouth finding it’s home in between
her thighs and in the slick wetness that had already gathered there. She paused for
just the slightest moment to smirk up at her wife and say: “You were thinking about
this, weren’t you?”
For that, she received a pointed glare and a hand at the back of her head, pushing
her mouth back to where Lexa most needed it. Clarke indulged fully in the taste and
the sensation, in the feeling of Lexa’s arousal and complete and utter _need_ for
her; before long she had rendered her wife a whimpering mess, leaning back against
the wall with shaky legs which only barely supported her. One leg was slung over
Clarke’s shoulder, and both her hands gripped at her hair as though for dear life –
Clarke’s tongue was coaxing her, pushing her to the edge, and she couldn’t speak,
couldn’t think at all.
An expertly timed curl of fingers and a swirl of her tongue caused Lexa to come
crashing down, a pleased and low moan escaping her lips as she did; Clarke kept
going, allowing Lexa to ride out her orgasm on her tongue, pushing her to the limit
of her pleasure. When Lexa couldn’t take it anymore, she tugged gently at Clarke’s
hair, and Clarke got up then, a satisfied smirk on her face.
“That make up for it?”
Lexa snaked a hand around Clarke’s neck and kissed her, her tongue dipping into
Clarke’s mouth to taste her own arousal on Clarke’s tongue.
“You’re still wearing my shorts.”
Clarke smirked. “You wanna take them off for me?”
* * *
The morning passed by comfortably enough; Clarke retired up to her studio to paint,
and Lexa cracked open a new book – an alternative study on Plato’s theories – and
sat back on the couch, a bowl of cookies within her reach and a jar of iced tea set
and ready. Indulging herself in her favorite literature and favorite cookies was a
pleasure, and the hours went by like no time had passed at all.
Around midday the doorbell rang.
“You wanna get that?” Clarke yelled from her studio. “I’m kind of in the middle of…
everything.”
Lexa laughed and set her book down. “I’ll get it.”
She opened the door to find Anya standing outside.
“Can I come in?”
“Uh, sure.”
Anya walked over to the couch and promptly sat herself down, and Lexa sat down
beside her.
“Who is it?” Clarke asked from the studio.
“It’s Anya,” Lexa called out. “We’ll just talk.”
“Okay.”
Lexa now turned to look at Anya with raised eyebrows. “You look very serious.”
“Are you okay?”
Lexa smiled. “Yes, Anya, I am.”
“After the trial? Because…I’m sure your parents brought up some-“
“Nasty stuff, yeah.”
“But you’re okay? No nightmares?”
“Some nightmares, but it’s okay.”
“Okay? You sure?”
Lexa nodded. “Clarke…she calms me down. It helps. And it helps that it’s not my
reality anymore. They…they’re not a part of my life anymore. They’re in my past,
not in my future, and that really helps.”
Anya reached over then, and enveloped Lexa in a hug. “I’m glad to hear that. But
how are you doing now?”
Lexa pulled away to find that the concern in Anya’s face was yet to recede.
“I’m…well, I was a little upset yesterday, but…I’m happy. Clarke and I, we had a
nice evening, and today’s morning too.”
“I actually came over because Raven suggested we could celebrate your victory with
a movie night. But only if you’re up for it, of course. She just figured it’d be
nice for you two to have some time with other people too, and to just have a nice
evening with takeout and laughter and stuff.”
Lexa smiled. “Raven’s kind, isn’t she? Under all that assholery.”
Anya laughed. “That is true.”
“But yes. I’d love a movie night.”
“Or a tv night? There’s a new episode of Grey’s Anatomy.”
“I haven’t seen the last four or so, I think. Been too busy with, well, life.”
“Really?”
Lexa nodded. “Yes. You can indulge in pointing out all the medical mistakes
tonight, Anya.”
“What time should we come?”
“Hold on, let me ask Clarke if she had any other plans.”
Lexa hurried up the stairs and into the study, only to find Clarke sitting cross-
legged on the floor, painting with her hands and apparently not noticing Lexa.
“Clarke.”
Clarke turned around and grinned, and Lexa snorted when she saw a smear of paint on
Clarke’s cheek.
“You’ve got a little something on your face.”
Clarke shrugged. “Call it war paint. You need something?”
“Raven suggested we have a movie – or, well, TV night.”
“I thought it was Anya who was at the door?”
“Yeah, but it was Raven’s idea.”
“Sure, yeah. Let’s do it. But only if Raven brings plenty of iced tea. I know that
you’ve already probably finished all that’s left.”
Lexa shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Gimme a kiss.”
“You’re covered in paint.”
“So?”
Lexa walked over and gave Clarke a quick peck on the lips. “It’s beautiful, by the
way. What you’re painting.”
“Really? I’m not so sure what it is yet.”
“It’s beautiful nevertheless.”
* * *
“I come bearing gifts!” Raven cried as she stepped through the door around six in
the evening. In her hands were two pizza boxes, atop which there were various boxes
of Chinese takeout. Anya entered after her, a bottle of iced tea in one hand and a
bottle of Coke in another.
“Sorry about the wait, this idiot decided we had to go two _blocks_ down for the
pizza.” Anya smirked.
“It’s the best pizza, and Clarke knows it.” Raven interjected. “It’s a shame they
don’t deliver.”
“It’s probably a good thing they don’t deliver,” Lexa pointed out as she took the
boxes from Raven’s hands and headed into the kitchen. “Otherwise Clarke would never
eat anything else for lunch.”
“What? Gio’s is just heavenly!”
Lexa just laughed and shook her head, starting herself on setting up a mini-buffet
in the lounge whilst Anya busied herself with setting up the TV. This gave Clarke
an opportune moment to pull Raven aside and pointedly jab at whatever it had been
that she’d interrupted in the morning.
“So, Raven…”
“What?” Raven asked, eyebrows raised. She knew from Clarke’s tone of voice that she
knew something, but couldn’t quite place what. She set down the glass of coke she'd
just poured, and watched her expectantly.
“Why couldn’t you come to the door this morning?”
Raven’s face grew red when she remembered Anya leaving her, effectively tied to her
own bed, and disappearing for a whole few minutes and leaving her utterly
frustrated in her wake. She’d thought Anya had done it just to taunt her. Never had
it occurred to her that Clarke could have been there.
“Uh…I was incapacitated, let’s just say that.”
“And by incapacitated you mean…”
“Fucking hell, Clarke.”
“Are you just going to have me making an educated guess based on the innocuous
amounts of concealer on your neck and the funny way you’re walking?”
“What funny way?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You look like a fucking penguin, waddling
like that. Now spill, Raven, you haven’t spared me sexual details before.”
“She sort of…kind of…tied me up,” Raven admitted sheepishly.
Clarke let out a laugh. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this.”
“Shut up.”
“The great Raven Reyes, letting herself be dominated? No, surely not.”
“This is a historical event, Raven. She can shut you up _and_ dominate you in bed?
You’re marrying her for sure.”
“Don’t you go pulling this marriage shit on me.” Raven snapped.
“I’m never ever letting this go.”
“Shut up.”
“You love me.”
“I might, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do this.”
And then the next second Clarke knew, there was an ice cube in her pants – no, in
her underwear – and the icy cold jolt at her most sensitive areas caused her to
yelp.
Lexa looked over at the kitchen to see Clarke hopping around, cursing loudly, with
Raven doubled over, laughing so hard she was crying. She rushed over, utterly
confused, only to see Clarke pull out an ice cube from her pants and throw it into
the sink with a grimace on her face.
“Raven, I hate you.”
“You love me.”

“How did you get the ice into my _underwear?_ It took you less than a split
second!”
Raven placed a hand on Clarke’s cheek and smiled. “I’m just that good.”
“Hey!” Lexa interjected, walking over and pushing Raven’s hand off of Clarke’s
face. “That’s my wife. Only I get to put things in her pants.”
“What she said,” Clarke agreed, grinning at Lexa’s brief spout of jealousy.
“Sure thing, buttercup," Raven smirked.
Anya walked over then, confusion evident in her face. “What’s going on?”
“Raven put ice in my pants.” Clarke answered her. “You should really try and keep
your girlfriend better under control.”
“I try,” Anya said coolly. Raven’s cheeks grew red, and when Anya slipped her arm
around her waist and pulled her closer, she was thoroughly and visibly embarrassed.
Clarke and Lexa headed into the lounge then, but Anya held Raven back for the
briefest moment. She kissed her lightly before leaning in to whisper in her ear in
a way she knew sent shivers running down Raven’s spine.
“Maybe I’ll bring ice into the bedroom next time,” she breathed, “Would you like
that?”
Raven bit her tongue, nodded, and then slipped away from Anya, but her silence was
more than enough confirmation for Anya. Raven may have been a dirty fucker, but she
was adorably embarrassed about the fact that Anya could top her.
And so they went into the lounge, where Clarke and Lexa had already settled onto
the couch, Clarke in Lexa’s lap and a bowl of popcorn in Clarke’s hands.
“Took you guys long enough,” Lexa grumbled.
“We were gone for like twenty seconds.”
Anya settled into the corner of the couch, stretching out her legs towards Clarke
and Lexa, whilst Raven laid onto the divan-part of the couch so that her head
rested on Anya’s stomach. Both Clarke and Lexa eyed them carefully, noting how
grossly domestic they were, but dared not comment on it. For all they knew, one
wrong word could have broken the apparent bubble of relationship cuteness that was
occurring between their two best friends.
And so they spent the evening chattering and watching the show, with Anya stopping
every few times to point out blatant medical inaccuracies (‘ _they would be dead by
now, what are you doing’)_ and Raven finding each occasion absolutely hilarious.
After they’d finished all four episodes, they turned on the TV to see if there was
anything on, and ended up spending most of the night watching and playing Jeopardy
and The Price Is Right. Clarke and Lexa knocked out almost at the same time
somewhere around 2am, and after settling them down more comfortably on the couch,
Anya and Raven slipped out of the apartment and left them to sleep.
“They seem alright, don’t they?” Raven asked Anya as they walked down to her place.
“I mean, given the trial was yesterday…”
“Lexa isn’t exactly an expert at dealing with negative emotions. They come out as
nightmares.”
“Has she been having them?”
“Yes.”
“Does Clarke know?”
“Clarke’s helping with them.”
Raven opened the door to her apartment and held it courteously open for Anya. “Of
course she is.”
“They’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
“I just hope Clarke’s fine, too.”
“Huh?”
“It took a toll on her, the trial. She’s just too focused on Lexa’s healing to
realize that’s he needs it, too. That’s why I suggested this whole TV night, so she
could get some mindless rest, too.”
Anya looked at Raven and shook her head. “Why do you act like such an asshole all
the time?”
“You’re so kind, and yet you act like a dick.”
“I am a dick.”
“No you aren’t.”
“You wanna bet?”
“See, there you go again.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t act like a coldhearted bitch to ward off annoying
people.”
“I do, but somehow my act didn’t manage to ward you off.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m not actually annoying.”
“Oh, no, you definitely are.”
“Oh shut up.”
Anya sighed and shook her head again. “You’re a good friend.”
“To you? Because I thought-“
“No, to Clarke. And to Lexa.”
“I guess.”
“They’re going to be alright.”

“Yeah, they are. We’ll make sure that they’ll be ok.”
> clarke's a horny little cutie (may or may not have been inspired by all the sin
on my dash today)
> Raven is the kindest soul beneath all that assholery and i will fight anyone who
says she isn't
> also the nickname buttercup feels so right for lexa, i don't know why, but it's
definitely going to become a regular thing
> come follow me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear people, i post stellar jokes about my
fics sometimes
41. Chapter 41
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> OK SO THIS CHAPTER IS ALL RANYA IF YOU DON'T RLY LIKE RANYA YOU CAN EASILY SKIP
THIS CHAPTER
> it's what Ranya did during chapter 40, i know it's a little iffy chronologically
BUT ITS HERE
> it's all sin, 4099 words of SIN
> i'm going to hell
> enjoy
Anya awoke in the dark, with Raven pressed up against her, and found that she was
almost fully awake. Thinking it strange that she’d awoken before her ‘almost’
morning-person girlfriend, she turned her head to look at the clock on Raven’s bed
stand, only to find that it was barely five in the morning. But she wasn’t tired,
anything but – she now concentrated on the feel of Raven in her arms, on the fact
that her hand was cupping Raven’s breast, whilst the other lay over her hip, her
fingertips almost brushing the soft skin of Raven’s sex. Raven was fast asleep, her
breaths slow and steady, and Anya found herself confused with mixed feelings of awe
and lust.
They’d had a long night, consisting of beer and a football game(go Longhorns!) and
then Anya remembered Raven dragging her to the bedroom and taking her how she liked
– Anya had let her top that night, and had thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it –
but she had been left with a nagging need to render Raven as breathless and spent
as Raven had done her the night before.
And so she turned Raven to her back, unsurprised to find that the brunette didn’t
even stir at the movement, and for a moment, simply leaned over and thought what
she could do. She was now so fully awake that the ideas simply buzzed in her mind,
and seeing Raven so peaceful, fully naked and so beautiful in her sleep, made her
feel a multitude of things.
She began tracing her fingers over Raven’s skin, lazily and a gently as she could,
marveling at how smooth and soft she was; there was a shamrock tattooed to her hip,
one which Raven called a ‘bad St. Patrick’s day mistake’, and Anya traced the
outlines of the tiny little green shamrock lovingly. She thought it was rather
adorable, and definitely Raven – only Raven would go out drinking on St Paddy’s and
wake up with a shamrock tattooed to her hip.
It had been about ten minutes or so when Anya noticed Raven stirring in her sleep.
But instead of waking, she soon noticed that a strange smile had spread onto
Raven’s lips, and the next thing she knew, a quiet moan had left the lips of the
sleeping brunette. Anya noted the slight bucking of Raven’s hips, and how hard her
nipples had grown, and realized immediately that Raven was having an extremely
_pleasant_ dream. She climbed on top of Raven then, and pinned her limp arms over
her head as she leaned down to kiss her lips, slowly and with demand. At that, the
brunette stirred, but still remained asleep, and so Anya moved her hips against
Raven’s and kissed her again, capturing her lower lip between her teeth and biting
down gently.
“Raven,” she murmured. “Wake up.”
Raven woke up to find herself pinned to the bed by a lustful Anya with a hunger in
her eyes, and smiled when she realized her position.
“Wow, aren’t you-“
But Anya didn’t let Raven speak; she kissed her again, this time rough and hard,
and her hips shifted again. Raven was still half asleep, and was only partially
aware of Anya’s tongue in her mouth or her hands pinning down her own; she was
enjoying herself, enjoying seeing Anya so needy, and was sure it could have easily
still been a dream.
“I want to take you,” Anya whispered into Raven’s ear, “Hard and rough and long,
and there’s a chance toys will be involved. You in?”
Raven practically moaned when she heard that, her arousal hitting her like a
lightning strike – just seconds ago, she had been asleep, but now she was about to
submit herself to Anya’s desires once again.
And she loved every single bit of it.
“Mhm.” She nodded, and Anya smiled – no, grinned – when she saw how eager Raven
was. She got up then, and pulled Raven up with her; if there was one thing Anya
enjoyed, it was taking Raven whilst she was standing. Seeing her legs quiver and
carrying her, supporting her whilst she drove into her all made Anya feel like she
had all the control, and this morning, she was determined to keep the control.
And so Raven found herself pushed up against the wall, Anya’s knee pressed against
her center as her hands were held up over her head by Anya’s hands whilst Anya’s
lips claimed hers, so roughly it would’ve hurt were it not for the fact that Raven
loved it all – she didn’t mind a little pain, not when it was coupled with
pleasure, and Anya – well, Anya was all pleasure.
“How did you sleep?” Anya asked. Her hand was planted on Raven’s hip, her thumb
just inches from her core, but she enjoyed distracting Raven with mundane questions
and seeing her completely flustered as she toyed with her.
“You’re just taunting me,” Raven groaned, pushing her hips forward. “Do something.
You woke me up for this, now deliver.”
Anya’s other hand left her hands and wrapped around her neck, her long slender
fingers pressing gently against her skin as she kissed her. Raven found herself
preoccupied with Anya’s tongue and the slight dig of nails into her neck, and so
when Anya’s knee was replaced by her fingers, driving into her with far too much
ease, she gasped in surprise. Anya paused, two fingers inside Raven all the way to
the knuckle, and looked her girlfriend in the eye.
“You’re wet,” she commented. She pulled her fingers out just slightly, only to
drive them back in again, roughly and pressing at just the right spot to elicit a
moan from Raven’s lips. “Too wet. Did you have a naughty dream?”
Raven shut her eyes as Anya drove into her at an agonizingly slow and yet somehow
rough pace – she was still sore and sensitive from the night before, and the long
while she’d spent riding those very same fingers – and she couldn’t deny that her
dreams _hadn’t_ consisted of her girlfriend, keeping her in compromising positions,
making her want and need for just what she was receiving right in that instant.
Teeth nipped at her earlobe, and Raven shuddered when Anya’s breath tickled her
ear. “Answer me, Raven.”
Raven didn’t do so; instead, she threw her arms around Anya’s neck and wrapped her
legs around her waist, pulling her closer to herself so that Anya was able to push
her up against the wall and support her weight completely. The change in angle
caused a slight cry to escape Raven's lips, but Anya only chuckled. She stopped
fucking Raven altogether, leaving her fingers inside her, and captured her lips
into a passionate kiss before repeating her question.
“Did you have a sex dream?”
“Sounds like you already know the answer,” Raven breathed. For that, Anya quickly
drove her fingers into Raven, and Raven cried out. “Fine, fine, yes, I had a sex
dream.”
Anya grinned and kissed her again as a reward. “Was I in it?”
Raven didn’t answer her for a while, because she’d began fucking her again; this
time she’d added in a third finger, and Raven’s lips parted just slightly as she
felt the heat build up at the pit of her stomach. But then Anya’s lips were on hers
again, and her tongue was in her mouth, and Raven ran her hand through Anya’s hair,
focusing on the kiss despite the intensity of her fingers inside her, pounding at
her in just the way she liked.
“Yes, you were in it,” Raven breathed as she ran a line of kisses along Anya’s jaw,
her hips bucking against Anya’s hand. “You…it was just like this.”
“Surely this is better?” Anya asked tauntingly, twisting her fingers in a different
way and breaking Raven’s concentration. Raven whimpered, and her nails dug into
Anya’s shoulder as she fought to concentrate even in the face of her building
orgasm.
“Anya, shut up.”
Anya hummed and lifted Raven a little bit upwards, her fingers thrusting into her
with such drive that Raven couldn’t help but whimper with each thrust; never before
had she been able to cum from fucking alone, and yet here she was, being rendered
completely thoughtless by Anya’s three fingers, unable to keep her moans and
whimpers at bay. Anya’s lips were on hers, Anya’s tongue was against hers; Anya’s
other hand was on her thigh, holding her up, nails digging into the soft muscle,
not enough to hurt but enough to leave a mark. By now, Raven was thrusting
alongside Anya, a rough, fast rhythm into which they’d both settled; her whimpers
were silenced expertly by Anya’s mouth, and Anya practically drank in everything
that Raven was. She could taste the lust, the passion, practically sense the
pleasure which Raven was experiencing, and it was all enough to drive her insane
with _feelings_ for the brunette in her arms.
She’d never had feelings for someone, not like this – she’d lusted after people,
and she had cared for some, but never had she cared this much. Never in her life
had she found herself content just lounging around with someone else, or cuddling
in bed after sex – her lovers she’d always cast out the instant they’d been done,
and the few girlfriends she’d had hadn’t ever really _cuddled_ her.
Well, really, Anya had never cuddled them. But she didn’t just want to fuck Raven;
she wanted to hold her, cuddle her, trace her fingers along her skin and just sleep
with her – she wanted to hear about her day, know her innermost desires, and even
now, with Raven almost on the brink of orgasm as her fingers drove in and out of
her, she found herself looking at her face, her shut eyes and parted lips, and
thinking how breathtakingly beautiful she was.
She thrust in one last time, and Raven came then – a low groan left her throat, and
her nails dug into Anya’s shoulder as her legs tightened around her waist and her
muscles pulsed around Anya’s fingers. She shifted her hips, bucked, and rode out
her orgasm – and then at the limit, just where it all became too sensitive, she
tried to get away from Anya’s fingers, still fucking her, but Anya wouldn’t let
her, not until she whimpered and begged because she was just _too_ sensitive. She
then leaned against Raven, pushing her even tighter against the wall, and for a
while, they both just stayed there, breathing heavily and trying to regain their
strength.
Raven let out an exasperated laugh, drawing a confused look from Anya. “Well, good
morning indeed,” she smirked, and Anya rolled her eyes.
“Idiot.”
“You wanna let me down now?”
Anya kissed Raven’s mouth once again, her hand taking Raven’s and interlocking
their fingers in an almost caring gesture. “You really think we’re done?”
Raven looked surprised. “You’re going to let me top?”
“As if.”
“Anya-“
“You got your turn last night. Now’s my turn, and I told you – I’m going to fuck
you hard and long till you’re entirely spent.”
Raven shuddered as Anya’s lips left her mouth to trail kisses along her jaw.
“You know what we haven’t done yet,” Anya murmured as she littered kisses down
along Raven’s neck, “What I really want to do?”
“Wh- ah, what?” Raven gasped when Anya’s teeth bit into her neck.
“Let me tie you up,” Anya husked, her lips returning to linger just an inch from
Raven’s. Raven tried to kiss her, but Anya’s other hand on her neck kept her from
doing so; Anya grinned, and Raven didn’t fight her – being taken like this,
controlled and _denied_ , it all turned her on more than she dared to admit. And
now there was a prospect of being tied up – something Raven had wanted but never
trusted anyone enough to actually do – and she was practically dripping at the
thought. She was not tired from the first round, not at all. She was more than
ready.
Anya locked eyes with Raven as she slid her hand down along her toned stomach and
dipped her fingers between her thighs, meeting eager wetness – a sound, practically
a growl, escaped her lips then, and she pushed a finger into Raven again, only to
pull it back out to Raven’s disappointment. Her finger she brought up and without
even having to ask, Raven took it into her mouth, eagerly tasting her own arousal.
She knew how turned on the sight made Anya, and how much it aroused herself – and
Raven was more than willing to give her a little bit of a show.
“There’s a good girl,” Anya whispered, causing another set of shivers to run down
Raven’s spine. “Now, you want me to tie you up?”
She withdrew her finger and let her fingers rest on Raven’s jaw, her eyes catching
every instant of Raven’s realization that she was entirely serious; first there was
hope, then excitement, and then Raven’s entire countenance became that of pure lust
and need.
“Yes, take me,” Raven breathed. “I’m yours,” she added, and the pleased look on
Anya’s face was more than enough to make her happier than she’d been in ages.
“Mine.”
Anya carried Raven over to the bed, her lips back on Raven’s, kissing her with a
hunger which was so contrasting to the gentleness her arms exhibited; she laid her
down gingerly, as though she feared she’d hurt her, but the next second all the
softness was gone. She thanked herself for having looked over the room before, and
reached down to the floor beside the bed to retrieve the belt of Raven’s silk robe.
“Hands above your head,” she ordered, and Raven complied without even thinking
twice. She wasn’t entirely surprised to find how skilled Anya appeared to be at
this; within moments, her hands were effectively bound together over her head and
to the headboard of her bed, the silken fabric fastened tightly but not digging
into her skin. She looked at Anya, eager and ready, and just the slightest bit
anxious – this was new to her, and although she was infinitely aroused by just
about every aspect of what was happening, she couldn’t help but feel a little
anxious about the fact that she had no idea of what was going to happen.
“Don’t look so scared,” Anya purred, climbing over Raven and straddling her hips in
a way which brought her own sex to rest atop Raven’s hip. Raven’s eyes widened when
she felt the wetness of Anya’s arousal touch – no, _drip_ – onto her skin, and
yearned in that instant for nothing more than to touch her and to satisfy her. But
she was restrained, held in place by the belt, and could do nothing except wait
patiently for Anya’s next move.
Anya was more than determined to make Raven wait. Thus far, she’d only succeeded in
denying and teasing the brunette to some extent – with full command of her own
limbs, Raven was more than capable of taking control of a situation and making Anya
give her what she wanted if the teasing went too far. But now she was tied up, her
slender arms clasped together over her head in a way which made her breasts look so
beautiful and prominent, and Anya couldn’t help but admire the view.
“You’re beautiful,” she told her. She ran her fingers up Raven’s ribs and over her
breasts, dragging her nails along Raven's skin so slowly in a way that made Raven
shudder. “I could have you over and over again.”
She leaned over Raven then, and kissed her hungrily, one hand holding her chin so
that she had full command of her mouth. Raven displayed a desperation which Anya
was all too pleased to see, and knew then that her girlfriend was in for a long
wait.
“How about you do something for me?”
Raven sighed with pleasure when she saw Anya settling over her, and was more than
eager to bury her face between her thighs. Anya was _dripping_ , and Raven couldn’t
help but feel pleased that it was technically for her. One hand gripped at Raven’s
hair whilst the other rested atop Raven’s clasped hands as Anya rode her face,
taking full demand of Raven’s mouth and actions, and Raven was more than happy to
please. She may have loved topping Anya, but this was amazing for her as well;
having Anya need her like this, use her and worship her with every action – even
now, with her hips grinding against Raven’s mouth, Raven felt like Anya was doing
her, like she was the one receiving and Anya the one giving – and it was amazing to
say the least.
Anya wasn’t one to make noises during sex, but when she came, a low moan escaped
her lips, and that was the greatest compliment of all to Raven. She didn’t even
have time to recover from what had just happened when Anya had already gotten off
of her and off of the bed, moving over to where Raven kept her toys and emerging
with her strap-on. Raven quivered with excitement, but was disappointed to see Anya
set it beside her on the bed instead of putting it on.
“Don’t worry,” Anya reassured her as she ran a finger along Raven’s leg, “We’ll
have some fun with this.”
She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers along Raven’s legs and thighs,
tracing the faint tan lines and running along the tiny shamrock tattoo once again.
Slowly as one could, she began inching closer to Raven’s dripping center, but even
when she touched it, she was gentle – too gentle, even. Her touch was like a
feather when Raven wanted the hardest she could give, and the agonizingly slow
circles which Anya drew around her swollen clit and folds were more than enough to
drive Raven mad.
“Anya, please-“ Raven whimpered. “Please.”
“Be patient,” Anya told her. “I told you it’d be long.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“And I will. But first I’m going to have you begging for it.”
“I’ll beg now.”
“You’re not quite there yet.”
“Anya-“
Anya pinched Raven’s nipple between her fingers, eliciting a surprised cry of pain
from the brunette. “You’ll get it when I decide you get it.”
Slowly as she could, she slipped one finger into Raven’s wetness, which wasn’t
nearly enough for her to truly feel much other than taunted; she curled that
finger, pressing against Raven’s sensitive muscles, but did not move in a pace
which would have pleasured her. No, she simply grazed that spot before pulling out
her finger and returning to taunting Raven’s sex, Raven’s quiet whimpers and begs
of release growing with each passing minute.
Raven was so far into her arousal that she didn’t hear the doorbell ring. Anya did,
and found this the perfect way to taunt Raven even further. And so she got up, and
grabbed an odd pair of shorts and a shirt, receiving a confused whimper from Raven
and ignoring it altogether as she headed out of the room for what felt to Raven
like an eternity.
She was dripping, she was desperate, and she _needed_ Anya to come back and finish
what she’d started. And so each passing second was to her like torture, and when
Anya finally did come back, she saw that Raven had reached the point where she’d
been taking her.
“Anya, please,” Raven begged, “Please, just let me cum. _Please.”_
Anya hummed and ran a hand along Raven’s side and up to her jaw, her thumb brushing
over her lips gently before her lips claimed them with demand. “That’s what I was
looking for,” she murmured.
In record time, she was wearing the strap, and Raven was so eager for her to just
fuck her that she couldn’t even speak. Anya, on the other hand, still wanted to
take it slow, to push Raven to the limits of her tolerance; and so she climbed over
Raven, and pushed into her so slow as one could, but even that slight movement had
Raven whimpering. Inch by inch, Anya pushed the strap into Raven, until their hips
met and she looked into Raven’s eyes to find them full of lust and sheer content.
She kissed her then, and Raven was so hungry for her, hungry for more, that it was
to Anya as though she were made of pure lust. Never parting their lips, she began
moving her hips, slowly, the toy moving in and out of Raven and eliciting moans and
whimpers from her lips. The friction between Anya’s hips and Raven’s clit was also
an added bonus, but even so, it wasn’t enough to get her over the edge which she’d
been kept on for the good part of the half an hour.
“I need more,” Raven breathed, “Anya, please, don’t do this so slow.”
Anya stopped moving her hips altogether and looked Raven in the eye.
“Tell me how you need it.”
Raven shuddered. “I need it hard, I need it rough, I need you to _fuck_ me, Anya,
not make love to me.”
Anya froze for a second. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I don’t see any other reason why you’d be so slow.”
“You don’t want me to make love to you?”
Raven’s expression softened. “Don’t distract me. I need you to fuck me now. You
teased me, taunted me. Please. Don’t leave me hanging.”
Anya kissed her, but this time it wasn’t rough; it was gentle and soft, and Raven
found herself utterly confused.
“But just so you know, love-making isn’t off the list,” she stammered. “But please,
Anya. I’m…fuck me. Please.”
Anya quirked an eyebrow and sat up. “I thought I was supposed to have the control?”
“Anya, you have all the control. Please.”
She looked down at her girlfriend and smiled. Raven was lying before her, hands
tied and legs spread, the strapon still buried deep within her, a look of utter
desperation and plea within her eyes. It was all just too precious. “Say it.”
Raven bucked her hips slightly. “Fuck me. Take me. I’m yours.”
Anya hummed. “There’s my good girl.”

She fucked Raven hard and rough, and for so long that by the end, Raven was
incapable of any coherent thought whatsoever; Anya had pounded into her
mercilessly, in just the fashion that Raven had asked for, and hadn’t stopped when
Raven had climaxed – no, that had only driven her to change things up, not giving
Raven any breaks in between being fucked with the strapon and having her mouth in
between her legs. Anya’s tongue had coaxed Raven to her third orgasm, and the cry
that had left her lips when she had climaxed had echoed in the apartment. After
that third orgasm, Anya noticed Raven growing tired, and decided she’d had enough.
She had no desire to burn Raven out, not when she’d taunted her for so long –
they’d had a long night before, after all.
She untied Raven’s hands as gently as she could, pressing kisses where she saw the
silk belt had dug into Raven’s skin, and Raven watched her, completely spent and
exhausted from everything. Her head was swimming with the aftermath of all her
pleasure, and the look which she gave Anya made her stomach do an infinite number
of flips. She gathered Raven into her arms and laid down onto the bed, still
pressing kisses along her skin. She felt like she needed to thank Raven, because
the brunette had been so good. She was so beautiful that Anya felt that she had to
apologize for being so rough before, that she had to make up for the cruelty she’d
exhibited earlier with an infinite number of soft kisses and caresses. Raven let
her, and enjoyed every second of it.
“You were amazing,” Anya murmured into Raven’s ear, “So good.”
Raven sighed and settled herself better into Anya’s arms, her head coming to rest
against Anya’s shoulder. “Mhm.”
Anya traced a finger along Raven’s spine and toyed with the stray hairs at the back
of her neck. “My girl,” she whispered. “Mine.” She kissed Raven then, as softly as
one could, and Raven smiled into the kiss.
“Mine,” Raven repeated. “You’re mine.”
Anya chuckled. “Yes, I’m yours.”
“Even though sometimes it feels more like I’m yours and you’re yours.”
The older woman sighed then. “Trust me when I say this, Raven. I’ve never been
anyone’s, but I’m yours.”
Raven was quiet, and Anya knew she was unconvinced.
“I’ve never let anyone top me.”
“What?”
“Never.”
“But you let me.”
“Because I trust you.”
“Because you’re mine.”
“Yes, Raven, because I’m yours.”
> we're all going to hell

> i'm so sorry
> no i'm not, i'm not sorry
> Ranya 5ever
42. Chapter 42
> i don't even know what i'm running on anymore, this fic just keeps giving and
giving (and to you few anons who were asking me about my future plans, i'm not
answering you guys because i'm keeping things under wraps so that you might enjoy
the twists)
“Clarke?”
Clarke turned around on the couch to look at Lexa, who’d just sat down beside her.
“Hm?”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure. You alright?”
Lexa shuffled closer, and Clarke couldn’t help noticing her apparent discomfort.
Immediately when she did, she laid a hand on Lexa’s thigh as a comforting gesture,
and looked into her eyes with concern. “Lexa…what is it?”
“I’m fine, Clarke. I’m worried about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“All you’ve done in the past two days is care about my wellbeing.”
“That’s because of the trial.”
“You were there too, Clarke. Don’t say you weren’t affected, I know you were.”
“So what if I was? I wasn’t in the center of it all. I wasn’t the one who had bad
memories brought up, traumas even.”
“But you did watch me go through that.” Lexa said quietly.
Clarke’s expression softened. “I’m fine, Lexa.”
“You’re tense. And sometimes you fall quiet, and I just _know_ you’re exhausted.
Anyone would be. I don’t want you to burn yourself out for me.”
Clarke sighed and set down her book, spreading her arms and legs to make space for
Lexa. “C’mere.”
Lexa shuffled over and settled herself in Clarke’s lap, facing her, and remained
quiet for a long while, waiting for Clarke to speak.
“You’re right,” Clarke finally said, “I’m exhausted. Or I was exhausted. The trial…
I was terrified, Lexa. I know I didn’t show it, and I largely did because I didn’t
want to add to your worry.”
Lexa sighed. “You shouldn’t have – no, you wouldn’t have needed to do that. You
don’t need to ignore what you’re feeling for my sake.”
“But you were so…worried. Tense. And you were having nightmares, and-“
“Clarke.”
The blonde paused and looked at Lexa, and Lexa now saw that her eyes shone with
tears. She reached up with one hand to cup Clarke’s face, and her entire
countenance softened as much as it possibly could.
“Clarke,” she repeated, her voice quiet and gentle, “You’re tired. You were scared.
And I’m sure a lot of questions arose during the trial…didn’t they?”
Clarke nodded. “But I’m fine not knowing.”
“No, ask me.”
“Lexa…”
“I’m fine, Clarke. I have nightmares, but I’m fine. I’m not broken. You can ask me
hard questions.”
“You sure?”
Clarke’s voice was small, and she was looking at Lexa with an expression of mixed
concern and hope – she really was curious, and truly did want to know the answers
to some questions, but did not want to do so at the cost of Lexa’s mental
stability.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Lexa smiled, leaning her forehead against Clarke’s. “Go ahead and
ask me. You’re my wife. You have every right to know.”
Clarke spent a long while trying to formulate her question, and Lexa waited
patiently, toying with a lone strand of hair, twirling the blonde lock around her
finger on an endless loop.
“Can you tell me about…no, wait. Do you ever think about suicide? Now, I mean?”
Every word of Clarke’s sentence was careful, tentative, as though she were walking
on thin ice – Lexa felt sorry that she was so tense, but understood it’s cause. The
topic was sensitive, and Lexa, too, was a little tense.
“No. Not anymore. Not for years.”
“Really?”
“It was…14, I think. I was young. I...do you want to hear?”
Clarke nodded slightly.
“I was young, I felt trapped, I felt like nothing was right and I had no control –
Costia had just left, I didn’t know what was going on in my life. I was desperate
to feel something, anything really…and so I asked Anya to get her then-boyfriend to
buy me some vodka. She…she wasn’t in a good place either, it’s not easy being in
the circles we grew up in.”
Lexa paused to take a deep breath, and Clarke looked at her in concern.
“You don’t have to keep going, if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want you to understand. I want you to not have to worry, I want you to see
that it was just a one-time thing.”
“I trust your word if you tell me it was that.”
“I don’t want you having to wonder. It’s fine, Clarke.”
Clarke stared at her for a while before nodding and resting her head against
Lexa’s.
“I…I didn’t mean to try, not at first. At first it was just drinking. I hated the
taste, but I loved how free it made me feel. I went to school drunk. I went to my
after-school activities drunk. I…I’m not so sure how my liver survived it all. But
then there was that one night.” Lexa paused for a second to try and recall a name.
“My mother had told me she’d found me a boyfriend, the son of a colleague – Daniel,
I think his name was – and she told me that I’d have a date with him the coming
weekend. She basically told me that I was to do as she told, and at that time, I
just felt like I’d been set up in an arranged marriage. That night, I…I went to her
medicine cabinet and took her sleeping pills and painkillers, and took half the
bottle and topped it all off with vodka. And the next thing I knew, I was vomiting
blood, and there was someone screaming…”
Lexa could feel Clarke flinch, and looked up to see tears in her eyes. “Hey…”
But Clarke shook her head, biting her lip to keep herself from crying. Lexa sighed
and rose a little bit upwards, and cupped her face gently as she pressed a kiss to
Clarke’s lips, gentle as a feather. Clarke let out a shaky breath and wiped at her
eyes, feeling idiotic for reacting so – but hearing Lexa talk about _that_ , and
how small and pained her voice was, it all just made Clarke tear up and want to
hurt anyone who had ever dared to try wound her wife. She wrapped her arms tighter
around Lexa and buried her face in her hair, hiding her tears and hoping she’d be
able to keep them down.
“Clarke…” Lexa murmured.
“I just…I hurt for you,” Clarke whimpered, “I don’t understand how, and you’re
being so…well, you’re not okay with it all, but at least you’re not _crying_ – but
hearing that, it…my heart hurts, Lexa, I just want to hold you and hurt anyone who
ever even tries to come close to you, and I wish you wouldn’t have had such a shit
life. I’d do anything for those bad memories to go away.”
Lexa smiled softly and leaned closer into Clarke, her hand rubbing gently at
Clarke’s back. “Clarke, I’m fine. The past is the past. I had some rough times, and
some rougher times. But I’m fine now. I have some nightmares, and sometimes I’ll
get sad, but so does everyone. It’s just healthy.”
“But I…god, Lexa, I wanted to throw that woman out of a window. I’ve wanted to hurt
your parents for a while, and then I just saw her and instantly wanted her _dead_ –
It’s terrifying, I shouldn’t be wanting people dead. I shouldn’t be wanting people
hurt, and yet, I’d want nothing more than to land a punch into that sniveling face
of your dad…”
“I do too.” Lexa admitted quietly.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Clarke was actually surprised, and even more surprised by the fact that she was
surprised. After all, Lexa had grown up with them, and surely had built up plenty
of anger to do a number of painful things to them.
“But we won’t. They don’t deserve that. They don’t deserve to occupy any part of
our minds.”
Lexa heard Clarke’s words, and took them to heart.
_They don’t deserve to be in my head._ _They don’t deserve any of my time at all._
And so she sighed, and settled against Clarke’s shoulder, and felt a little better.
“Is there anything else on your mind?”
Clarke tensed up, and Lexa knew that was a yes. And so when she said no, Lexa
looked up, and smirked.
“I know you’re lying, Clarke. Go on. Ask.”
“I already nearly cried once.”
“So cry. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Clarke sighed. “I just…I know what your…tutor, what she did to you. But…were you
afraid when you saw her? Are you still afraid? Cause if you are, I’d like to know,
so that I can make sure you never have to see her again.”
“I…I’m not afraid of her. Not _me_ me, but like…young me _._ It’s like a residual
fear, you know? I spent so many years jumping at the sound of her voice that it
just…just seeing her was painful. And most of my nightmares are about her. She’s…I
didn’t expect her to be there, that’s all. It was a shock.”
“I’ll kick her ass.”
Lexa chuckled. “You’re cute.”
“I will, I swear. If she ever so much as comes within a mile of you, I’m kicking
her ass.” Clarke said. “I just want you to be okay.”
“I am okay, Clarke. More than okay. I want to know if _you’re_ okay.”
“I-“ Clarke began, but she sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do. When you’re…
crying, or sad, or whatever. It scares me, and I just feel so useless, and I just…I
hate feeling like that, you know? I hate not knowing what to do to help you.”
“Clarke, listen to me. You don’t need to do _anything_ to help me.” Lexa said
sternly. “Most of this I have to do on my own. It’s my mind, it’s my heart. But you
do help, trust me. The way you wait until I initiate a hug or something, or the way
you hold me tight when I do ask for it; it’s perfect.” She pressed her lips to
Clarke’s, and was glad to find them curl slightly upwards into a smile against her
lips. “You’re perfect,” she added, and Clarke’s hand came up to her neck, pulling
her even closer as Clarke kissed her again, deeper, with love and devotion pouring
into Lexa’s being through that touch.
“So you’re okay?” Lexa asked for the last time. “Just to make sure.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, Lexa, I’m okay.”
* * *
After a brief nap on the couch, they both awoke feeling rested and significantly
lighter at heart; Clarke no longer felt guilty for keeping herself contained, and
despite the pain of knowing about Lexa’s past, she also relished knowing – Lexa
trusted her enough to have her knowing about it, and she felt at peace with what
had happened and what their future was.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Clarke whispered into Lexa’s ear, who was refusing to get up
altogether.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s cold out. I’m warm here.”
“Come on, Lexa. We haven’t left the apartment in days. We gotta go out some time.”
“But it’s cold.”
“I’ll let you wear my hoodie?”
Lexa looked up and tugged at the hoodie which Clarke was currently wearing. “This
one?”
“I’m wearing it.”
“Please? It’s my favorite.”
“Remind me again how many hoodies you own?”
“None of them smell like you.”
“See, now that’s just creepy.”
“Oh shut up.”
After exchanging hoodies and suiting up for the chilly wind outside, they headed
out into the world, where the sun was shining and the streets were full of people
with a heading. They headed into the park, walking aimlessly around, enjoying the
sun and the feel of the day itself; there was a taste of spring in the air, despite
the creeping coldness that still resided over the city. There were a few odd
performers in the park, and Clarke made sure that she’d grabbed enough change for
each of them – anyone who dared(or needed) to sit outside in the cold, playing
music for money, deserved whatever they could give.
“Clarke, look. The vendor’s here.”
Clarke looked over to where Lexa was pointing, and smiled widely when she saw the
familiar short man in his usual place beneath an oak tree.
“It’s January,” she pointed out. “You really want ice cream?”
Lexa tugged at Clarke’s arm. “Come on, we gotta.”

“Fine, fine. But I call dibs on the chocolate.”
“Cla-arke-“
“Do you want the ice cream or not?”
“Don’t you go treating me like some kid,” Lexa grumbled as she pulled Clarke along
to the vendor, “I’m going to have half off your chocolate and you’ll have half off
of my vanilla. Like always.”
“We’ve had ice cream from him like three times. That’s not always.”
“We’ll make it a tradition.”
Clarke couldn’t help but smile at that. “Fine, fine. We can share. What’s mine is
yours, right?”
> kudos to you if you've started noticing me dropping things i've written into the
headcanon asks into the actual fic (and if you haven't seen the HC asks yet, what
are you doing, go check them out on tumblr @clexy-polarbear under 'answered asks'
they're adorable af)
>
43. Chapter 43
> i'm just taking all my headcanons and putting them in and it's lovely
> im loving all the fluff (but i do see all of you begging for sin, y'all will get
some beautiful clexa sin in due time)
> JUST TO CLARIFY THE RANYA SMUT IS IN CHAPTER 41 SO IF U HAVENT READ IT GO BACK
AND READ IT
> idk how this website works i shuffled the chapters around but idk if y'all will
get an email about it so just to be safe, i'm yelling about it here
It was hot. That was what Lexa first became aware of. It was really, really hot,
too hot for her to be able to settle her face back into Clarke’s neck and go back
to sleep. It was an unnatural heat – the air outside the covers was nice and cool,
and Lexa threw the covers off of herself slightly. Leaning over Clarke’s still
sleeping form, she looked at her phone to see the time, finding that it was almost
midday. She then realized that she not only had slept over twelve hours, but that
Clarke had too, and that Clarke was still asleep.
Lexa rose slightly to better look at Clarke. She was fast asleep, a slight pink on
her cheeks, and Lexa couldn’t resist the temptation to lean in to press a kiss into
her forehead. But when she did, she felt heat – unnatural heat – and tasted sweat
on Clarke’s brow, and she pulled back quickly when she realized that the heat that
had woken her was coming from Clarke.
She had a fever.
“Clarke.” Lexa called out. She shook Clarke’s shoulder gently, and kept repeating
her name till she woke up. “Hey, Clarke.”
Clarke frowned and pulled the covers over herself. “Go away, Lexa.”
“Clarke, you have a fever.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
“I’ll get a thermometer and prove it.”
“We don’t have one.”
“I’ll get Anya.”
“Lexa, I’m fine.”
Lexa sighed and sat up. “I’m going to go take a shower. If you’re still feverish
and sweating when I get out, I’m taking you to the doctor.”
Clarke waved a hand and grumbled something inaudible from beneath the covers. Lexa
just shook her head and went off, leaving Clarke to fully wake up and realize that
she did indeed have a fever. Her throat was sore, her nose was runny, and she felt
incredibly uncomfortable with or without the covers – with them, it was too hot;
without, it was too cold. Her head was pounding, and she was thoroughly exhausted.
“Why?” She groaned as she curled up beneath the covers. “Why?”
As if the world hadn’t already caused her enough pain, her phone rang just at that
moment. Clarke groaned and swatted at the offending device, but it wouldn’t budge.
And so she grabbed it and practically punched the answer button without so much a
glance at the caller ID, answering it with an angry bark.
“What?”
“That’s no way to speak your mother.”
Clarke paled slightly when she heard her mother’s voice. “Sorry, Mom, I’m just-“
“Are you okay? You sound weird?”
“I’m fine, I just-“ But Clarke was overcome with a coughing fit, and was only able
to continue after a little while, by which time Abby had already figured out what
was going on.
“Clarke, you’re sick.”
“No I’m not.”
“Don’t lie to me, I’m not only your mother but also a doctor.”
“Ok, fine, so what if I’m a little down?”
“You’re sick. You’re never sick.”
“Was there some reason why you called me?”
“I know you’re grumpy, but surely you can show _some_ love to your mother?”
Clarke sighed. “It’s so nice that you called, Mom, but I am still curious.”
“I’m in town. I was thinking we could do a lunch date, but clearly that’s out of
the question. I’ll be round in about half an hour, ok?”
“What?”
“I’m coming whether you wanted or not. You’re sick, and I know how stubborn you
get. I’m saving Lexa some headaches.”
Another sigh. “Fine, fine. You know our address, right?”
“Yes, Clarke I do. Do you have any tea or honey?”
“I’m sure Lexa’s stocked our cupboards to last a century.”
“Good. See you soon.”
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
Clarke let the phone drop onto the mattress, and crawled back beneath the covers,
still as uncomfortable as ever. She hated being sick, and it annoyed her that she’d
managed to catch the flu when Lexa still had four whole days off from work – she
was sure Lexa would get sick too, if she hadn’t already, and felt a little guilty
about that.
“Damn New York and it’s damn germs,” she grumbled as she buried herself even deeper
into her burrito of heat and sweat and discomfort. She was so thoroughly covered
that she didn’t hear that Lexa had come out of the shower, not until Lexa sat next
to her and placed a hand atop the lump beneath the covers, a smile tugging at her
lips.
“Still adamant that you’re perfectly fine?”
“My mom’s coming.”
“She’s in town?”
“Yes, and she’s apparently psychic, too.”
“You were coughing pretty bad.”
“You heard, too?”
“It sounded like you were dying, Clarke.”
“Don’t exaggerate, it’s just the flu.”
“Fair enough,” Lexa grinned, patting Clarke’s shoulder gently before getting up.
“I’m going to get dressed. When’s she coming?”
“She said half an hour, and if there’s one thing I know about my mother, it’s that
she always exaggerates travel times. She’ll be here any second.”
* * *
Sure enough, not twenty-five minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Lexa opened it
to find Abby standing outside, a smile on her face. She stepped inside and
enveloped Lexa into a brief hug, and Lexa wasn’t so surprised by the fact anymore.
She’d grown used to affection shown by others, and even found herself liking it.
“So, where’s the patient?”
Lexa laughed. “Do you really think I’ve managed to get her out of bed?”
Abby laughed too, and after setting her coat and shoes aside, she followed Lexa up
the stairs and to their bedroom. There, they found an extremely grumpy Clarke,
burrowed beneath every blanket and duvet available, and Abby couldn’t help but
chuckle at the sight.
“Clarke, honey. Would you come out of your nest?”
Clarke grumbled. “I have a headache.”
Lexa went over to the windows and pulled the curtains over them, effectively
darkening the room. Abby then put on one light on the bedside table before sitting
down beside Clarke and pulling the covers off of her.
“Sweetie, you know I’m only here to help. You’re sick.”
Clarke just grumbled.
“At least turn over to your back?”
Clarke did as asked, and Abby propped up some pillows so that she could sit up a
little. She touched her forehead, and made a face, and Clarke knew instantly that
she was in for an age of ‘I told you to wear a scarf’ and ‘Are you _sure_ you
washed your hands’.
“Lexa, would you go downstairs and make some tea? This is going to take a while.”
Lexa did as asked, and when she returned about five minutes later with three cups
of tea, she found Clarke frowning at her mother.
“Mom wants to take a blood sample.”
“Clarke, it’s just a precaution.”
“I know it is, but I don’t like needles.”
Lexa chuckled and set down the tray before going over to sit beside Clarke. “What
if I hold your hand?”
“I hate needles.”
“It’s so quick. Just a little prick, that’s all.”
“Why do you even have a medical kit with you, anyway?”
“I was here for a conference showcasing the new kits we’re sending off with our
doctors. Just so happened to have a sample.”
“But won’t the blood sample be compromised on the way?” Clarke asked.
“It’ll be fine for the twenty minutes it takes me to get to the hospital.”
“Then don’t take it yet. You don’t have to go now, do you?”
Abby chuckled and stroked Clarke’s cheek gently. “No, I don’t.”
“Can you make chicken soup?”
“I brought the ingredients for a reason. I know you always want soup when you're
sick.”
"Can you make it now?"
And so the next hour or so went by with Abby teaching Lexa her infamous chicken
soup recipe, and it ending up so that they made far too much for just the two of
them – Clarke slept, having been fed some medicine and tea by her mother, and this
left Abby with an opportune time to spend some time with Lexa.
“So, what have you been up to?”
Lexa looked up from the carrots she was chopping and shrugged. “Nothing much,
really. There was the trial, but that went over well, and after that we’ve just
been resting.”
“It was a tough thing, wasn’t it?”
Lexa nodded. “For Clarke, too.”
“She’s a tough one, I’ll admit. But you did get her to talk about it, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know?”
Abby smirked. “You seem the type. I can tell when Clarke’s holding something back,
after all, I’m her mother. But I figured you were sort of the same.”
Lexa’s face flushed. “I…I guess.”
“Clarke’s stubborn, but so are you. It’s good that she’s got some challenge.”
Lexa chuckled. "She's stubborn, that's for sure."
"And you've got time off work, now?"
"Yeah."
"Tell me again where you work."
"I work for Porter&Ryder, the firm that represented us during the trial. I'm an
attorney there."
"That's nice. And they just gave you the week off?"
Lexa nodded. "Indra's very supportive."
"It's great that you have that."
Abby moved swiftly past Lexa and put some spices into the brewing soup, allowing
some of the smell to escape the pot and drift about the room.
“It smells delicious,” Lexa commented.

“My secret recipe. I thought I’d teach Clarke to make it, but then I learned of her
complete lack of ability to cook. So I’m glad I have a daughter-in-law with cooking
abilities to pass on my secrets.”
Lexa laughed. “The other day, she tried to make me a smoothie, and somehow managed
to screw it up. It was _awful_.”
“Thank god you have some healthy habits. I do hope they’ll rub off on Clarke.”
They chattered on for about an hour before Abby realized she was due for another
meeting in an hour.
“Let’s go wake the bear,” she joked as she headed back up the stairs. They found
Clarke awake, but only barely so; she was sniffling, her nose was red, and she
looked absolutely miserable.
“Just let me die already,” she grumbled, “There’s no need to stab and poke at me
whilst I lay here in pain.”
“Don’t be so extra.” Lexa chuckled as she sat down beside Clarke. “Just hold my
hand.”
“I don’t want the needle.”
“It’ll be over in a second, and then it’ll be all fine.”
“But I hate it.”
Lexa took Clarke’s hand into hers and squeezed. “Come on, Clarke. You can do this.”
Clarke whimpered and hid her face into Lexa’s neck as she stuck out her other arm
to her mother, who carefully cleansed her skin before taking the sample. The slight
jolt of pain when the needle pushed through skin caused Clarke to whimper just
slightly, and her hand was gripping Lexa’s so tightly she could almost feel pain –
but then it was over, and Abby set the vial of blood into her pack before putting
some new dressings and some tape over the puncture.
“There we go. All done.”
She patted Clarke’s knee and smiled, but Clarke just frowned.
“I have to go now, but I’ll call you in the evening? If anything changes, just
call. Even something as little as a rise in temperature. Nothings insignificant.”
“God, Mom, it’s just the flu.”
“Yes, it’s just the flu, but you _never_ get sick, Clarke. And I know how much you
hate being sick.”
“Does anyone enjoy being sick?”
Abby laughed and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Get some rest. Don’t leave bed.
Let Lexa care for you.”
“What if I need to go to the bathroom?”
“That’s the only exception.”

“What if-“
“No buts, Clarke. Stay in bed. You don’t want to have the flu for weeks, do you?”
Clarke settled back down onto her pillows. “No, I don’t.”
“Okay, good. I love you, but I have to go.”
Lexa smiled. “I’ll take good care of her.”
Abby was already halfway out of the room, but she stopped for a brief moment to
turn around and smile at her.
“I have no doubt that you will.”
> just to clarify ITS JUST THE FLU CLARKE IS FINE JUST GRUMPY AND CUTE SHE AINT GON
DIE
> also isn't abby just the greatest?
> don't forget to leave kudos and comments, they're basically my lifeline during
this wondrous marathon of a fic :)
44. Chapter 44
> ah, sick fluff is just such a favorite of mine

> grumpy clarke is cute, but who's ready for grumpy lexa?
Clarke was definitely not the easiest patient. Lexa found she was unable to be
irritated by her constant whining and groaning, not when her cheeks were pink and
she had the cutest sniffles – no, even when she sneezed, she was still absolutely
adorable, which in turn helped with keeping Clarke more than tolerable for Lexa to
care for.
She’d slept another hour after her mother had left, and Lexa had dragged an
armchair from the corner to her bedside and settled herself in it, far enough to
avoid full exposure but close enough to keep an eye on her. She slept soundly as
one could, but Lexa couldn’t help but notice the fever was making her look sweaty
and clammy; she was tossing and turning every now and then, evidently uncomfortable
in her current state, and when she woke up about an hour later, she was extremely
grumpy.
“My head hurts,” Clarke grumbled.
Lexa set her book aside, took the glass from Clarke’s bedside table, and went over
to the bathroom to fill it up. She then gave Clarke a painkiller and the glass, and
offered her a tentative smile as she did – but Clarke just frowned, and Lexa
couldn’t help but chuckle.
“How are you doing?”
Clarke shot her a glare. “I’m dying.”
“No, you’re not.”
“My back aches. Everything aches,” the blonde whined. “How can something like this
happen overnight?”
“Clearly it’s a strong virus.”
“Clearly.”
“Are you hungry?”
Clarke’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, yes.”
When Lexa returned with a tray with two bowls full of chicken soup, Clarke flashed
her a thankful smile, and she took the bowl into her hands eagerly. But the first
spoonful was too hasty, and she burned her mouth, the frown returning to her face.
“Today is not my day.” She decided.
“Aw,” Lexa smiled. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
“Everything hurts, my brain is dying, my nose is itchy and now my mouth is burned.
Oh, and I got stabbed.”
“It was just a needle.”
“What do you know, you didn’t have it puncturing your skin.”
Lexa leaned in and kissed Clarke lightly on the cheek. “My sick little baby.”
“Don’t come so close or you’ll get sick too.”
“Clarke, I literally slept _on_ you last night. I’ve probably already gotten sick.
It’s just a matter of time.”
“Still. I’m all gross and snotty.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I’m gross.”
Lexa rolled her eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to Clarke’s lips. “You’re beautiful
and not at all gross.”
“What if I sneezed on your face? Would I still be not gross?”
“Please don’t.”
Clarke put another spoonful of soup into her mouth and smirked. “I might.”
As if on cue, Lexa sneezed – it was more like a tiny little cry, adorable and
endearing and so gentle – and Clarke gaped at her, mouth open and eyes wide.
“Holy shit.”
Lexa sniffled. “Shut up.”
“You’re sick.”
“Shut up, Clarke, I’m not sick yet. I just sneezed.”
“That sneeze just made my day infinitely better. It was so cute.”

“Shut up.”
Clarke just chuckled and settled further into her mountain of covers, cradling her
bowl of soup in her hands. “This is so good.”
“But it burned your mouth?”
“I don’t care, it’s heavenly and I love it.”
Lexa sat cross-legged beside Clarke, and only now had her first taste of the soup.
Sure enough, Clarke was more than right about the taste – the fact that the soup
had _both_ potatoes and noodles, as well as vegetables and expertly cooked chicken
and spices combined in the best way possible, it all made it just about the most
delicious thing Lexa had ever eaten in her life.
“It’s good?” Clarke asked, but the question was answered by the pleased hum that
left Lexa’s throat. Clarke smiled then, and for a moment forgot about her aching
body and fever.
When they’d finished eating, Clarke laid back down, this time on her stomach, and
groaned loudly about her aching muscles till Lexa took the hint and offered her a
massage.
“Well, if you insist…” Clarke grinned, settling herself more in the middle of their
bed so that Lexa was able to come sit beside her. Lexa pressed a kiss to her cheek
before helping her shirt over her head (because, really, every massage is meant to
be topless) The chill of the air touching her skin was worth it, because Clarke
loved how Lexa knew just where to knead and press, where to roll her palm over an
especially sore spot in ways which made moans leave her lips. At first, Lexa had
just been kneeling beside her, but had ended up sitting on Clarke’s lower back,
straddling her as she kneaded her muscles and soothed soft, feverish skin.
She heard the door open downstairs, but bothered not to move away from Clarke when
she heard footsteps approaching their room. Clarke was wearing a sports bra, after
all, so there was nothing explicit going on, and Lexa knew it was Anya – Abby had
mentioned that she’d tell Anya to come check on them, and Lexa was more than aware
of how mama bear-y Anya could get over her. Even the slightest hint of illness was
sure to send Anya rushing over, and given the fact that she was now practically
living not twenty steps from their apartment, it was reasonable to believe that
Anya would pop over any moment.
“Hey, I used your spare ke-“ Anya began, but upon seeing Lexa straddling Clarke’s
back, she turned around and faltered with her words. “Sorry, do you want me to come
back later?”
Lexa laughed and climbed off of Clarke, who was very relaxed and almost falling
asleep. She held a finger up to her lips before quickly pulling the covers over her
wife and tucking her in. She kissed her forehead gently and then tiptoed out of the
room, dragging Anya along with her, all the way down to the lounge where she was
sure Clarke wouldn’t be disturbed if they talked.
“You look a bit pale,” Anya commented. “You’re getting sick, too, aren’t you?”
“Jesus, Anya, I’m not dying or anything.” Lexa sighed as she slumped down onto the
couch. “Abby sent you, didn’t she?”
“She said Clarke was sick and that you were looking a bit drowsy too. I figured I’d
come and check.”
“Anya, I’m fine. I sneezed once.”
“Once too many.”
“People sneeze when they’re perfectly healthy.”
Anya sat down beside Lexa and sighed. “Lexa.”
“I hate doctors.”
“You don’t hate me.”
“Don’t you go nitpicking.”
“I’ll just test your temperature and poke around a little. Won’t take long.”
“No.”
“Lexa-“
“Anya.”
“Lexa.”
Lexa sighed. “Fine.”
“Good. Put this under your arm, please.”
Lexa took the thermometer and put it under her arm, and waited quietly as Anya
examined her throat and checked her ears.
“Your throat’s a bit red, and it sounds a bit raw,” Anya commented as she took the
thermometer from Lexa. “And you’ve got a rising temperature, it’s at 100 degrees
now. You should go to bed.”
“Anya, I’m fine.”
“Just because Clarke looks like she’s dying doesn’t mean you’re not sick too.”
“She’s not dying, is she?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “No.”
“You haven’t even seen her.”
“How about you trust her mother’s judgement? Abby’s a far better doctor than I am.”
Lexa paused for a moment. “Fine.”
“Now off to bed.”
“But I need to go get groceries, and I had to go to the post-”
“I’ll take Raven and go run your errands with her. Write us a list.”
After Lexa had supplied Anya with a shopping list and instructions about her other
errands, she headed upstairs and to bed. She did admit that she felt a little
tired, and that her head was aching just the slightest bit – but she wasn’t sick,
she couldn’t be. Even so, the instant she laid her head down onto the pillow, she
fell asleep, her body basically shutting down the instant it was given some proper
rest.
* * *
Anya entered Raven’s apartment to find her girlfriend just leaving the shower, the
towel thrown over her shoulder and covering basically nothing whatsoever. Shaking
her head at Raven’s apparent lack of shyness anywhere, she headed over to the
fridge to check what she had stocked so they could run her errands as well.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked as she emerged into the kitchen a second later,
clad in sweatpants and a shirt, drying her hair with the towel.
“Do you have anything else in your apartment other than leftovers and beer?”
Raven smirked. “I’ve got eggs.”
“Is this what you live on?”
“More or less.”
Anya shut the fridge door and grumbled. “Right. We’re going shopping.”
“Now?”
“Clarke and Lexa are sick. They need groceries and I promised we’d get them.”
“Why’d you drag me into this?”
“Because I need someone to carry the bags, of course.” Anya smirked. “Now go put on
something other than _my_ pajamas.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so bossy.”
“Isn’t that why you like me?”
A towel was thrown at Anya’s face, but she only laughed gently at Raven’s apparent
annoyance. When Raven emerged a little while later clad in jeans, a t-shirt and her
trademark red bomber jacket, Anya groaned at her blatant disregard for the cold
outside.
“Nope, not that.”
“What?”
“Raven, it’s like twenty degrees out. It’s basically freezing.”
“You’re from the South. Of course you’d think it’s freezing,” Raven pointed out,
determined to keep wearing what she’d picked. “Come on, let’s go. I’m actually
kinda hungry.”
“Wait there.”
Raven waited patiently as Anya went into the room which she’d already begun in her
mind calling _their_ bedroom instead of hers. When Anya came out a moment later
with a beanie and scarf in hand, she groaned, backing away with a slight shake of
head.
“Nope. No way.”
Anya backed her up against the door and promptly shoved the beanie onto Raven’s
head, so far down that it covered her eyes. She then wrapped the scarf around
Raven’s neck, all the while Raven sputtered and grumbled against the whole assault.
When Anya was done, she tried to take them off, but Anya’s hand grabbed her wrist
and stopped her.
“Two people are already sick. I won’t have you getting sick, too.”
Raven looked at her and frowned. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
“So adjust it.”
“I would, if you let go of my hand-“
Anya sighed and let Raven do as she pleased, pulling the beanie farther up until it
was set adorably on her head, her brown hair framing her face and resting atop the
woolen scarf.
“There, you happy?”
Anya looked at her girlfriend, whose frown only made her look even more like a
pouty child, and smiled. “Yes, I’m happy. I can handle Lexa being grumpy, and
Clarke as well – but if you get sick, I’m not entirely sure I will be able to
refrain from murdering you.”
Raven faked an ‘aww’ then, and snuck in a quick kiss. “That was the sweetest thing
you’ve ever said to me.”
Now it was Anya’s turn to frown. “No, it definitely wasn’t.”
Raven just laughed and pushed her away from her so that she could open the door and
get out. “Sure, whatever you say.”
* * *
“Anya, I can’t read Lexa’s handwriting. You read it, you’re a doctor.”
“What’s my being a doctor got to do with it?” Anya asked as she snatched the list
from Raven.
“Have you seen doctor’s notes? It’s just scribbles.”
Anya chuckled. “Sure. Grab some bananas, will you?”
Raven pushed the cart forward and grabbed a bunch of bananas from the stand beside
her. “This enough?”
“Sure.”
They went along, picking out every little healthy thing Lexa had listed, and with
Anya pausing every few paces or so to ask Raven if she really didn’t eat _any_
vegetables or fruits.
“I do,” Raven answered, “Like bananas and stuff. And carrots. Cheap things, things
you don’t have to cook.”
Anya just rolled her eyes. “I’m teaching you to cook.”

“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll probably burn it all anyway.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t.”
“But it takes such a long time.”
“Raven, I already said this once, and I’ll say it again. I’d much like for you to
live past thirty, and if you keep blatantly avoiding important nutrients, you won’t
make it.”
Raven groaned. “Fine, fine. But now’s the time for the junk food. What did Lexa
write down?”
“Why do you think she put any junk food on the list?”
“Clarke’s sick. She needs comfort food, and Lexa knows this. Come on, tell me I’m
wrong.”
Anya glanced at the list. “No, you’re not wrong.”
“Rocky road?”
“And cookie dough ice cream.”
“And I’m assuming Oreos, too. Did she put down Capri-Suns?”
“Are you the one married to Clarke, or Lexa?”
Raven rolled her eyes and laughed. “What, you jealous?”
“No.”
“You are. You’re jealous that I know Clarke so well.”
“No I’m not.”
Raven left the cart and stood before Anya, her hand coming to rest on her waist as
she leaned in for a kiss. “Clarke’s my best friend,” she told Anya as she returned
to pushing the cart, “So I know how to tend to her.”
“I know that.”
“But I also know that your comfort food is anything peanut butter – peanut butter
cups, peanut butter ice cream…and that your favorite is peanut butter and pickle
sandwiches, which I will never understand but will gladly make for you if you ever
are in need. But don't expect me to kiss you afterwards, unless you _really_ need
it. Then I'll consider sacrificing my own personal dislike of pickles for the sake
of your comfort.”
Anya stopped in her tracks, and Raven wheeled along for a few feet before realizing
she’d stopped. She turned around to look at her in confusion then, and seeing the
surprise on Anya’s face, smirked.
“What?”
Anya walked over and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“No, what?”
“What did I do?”
Anya glanced around the aisle, and finding it empty, grabbed Raven in for a kiss so
rough a surprised cry left her girlfriend’s lips. Her hands were tight around
Raven’s wrists, holding her close, and Raven felt her stomach doing a thousand
flips at this sudden display of affection. The fact that it was happening in
public, where thus far Anya had retained a strict no-PDA (except light kisses and
hand-holding) rule – well, it just made Raven feel like this was something new,
something special, and she was practically melting into Anya’s touch.
“You were wonderful,” Anya answered her when she let go, “You are wonderful.”
“All I did was tell you what I’ve learned from watching you deal with your period.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “You paid attention and remembered. That’s what makes you
wonderful, you asshole.”
“Yeah, that’s right, I’m an asshole.”
“I’m starting to think you might not be an asshole at all.”
“Hey!” Raven snapped. “Take that back.”
Anya shook her head. “Never.”
* * *
Meanwhile at the apartment, Clarke had awoken to find a very grumpy and sleepy Lexa
had crawled her way into her arms. It was hot, it was sweaty, but she found that it
was still somehow comfortable despite the fact that where their skin touched, it
was clammy and uncomfortably hot. She glanced down and saw that Lexa was lazily
laying atop her, a small trickle of drool running from the corner of her mouth and
just slightly touching her skin – it would’ve been a little gross were it not so
painstakingly adorable, and Clarke ran a hand up Lexa’s arm, as gently as one
could. She hadn’t expected that slight movement to wake her up, but it did, and
Lexa grumbled when she realized the slight headache she’d had when she fell asleep
had grown into a massive one.
“Fucking hell,” she grumbled.
“Sick?” Clarke asked, her voice raw and hoarse from her sore throat.
“Dying.”
“No you’re not, I’m dying.”
“This is your fault.”
“You kissed me. I didn’t ask you to do that.”
Lexa buried her face into Clarke’s chest. “Totally worth it.”
Clarke chuckled. “Idiot.”
“Besides, I probably got it from you yesterday. It’s not like the flu hits you in
two hours.”
“True.”
“I’m hot.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I mean temperature-hot.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t want to move.”
“I know.”
“Can’t we get an ice pack or something?”
“I don’t want to move.”
Lexa groaned. “Where’s your phone?”
“What?”
“I’m calling Raven to bring me ice.”
“Lexa, I’m sure we have some in the freezer.”
“No, we don’t, I used it all up this morning and forgot to put the tray in.”
“Don’t we have frozen peas or anything?”
“No.”
“Ugh.”
“Besides, I’m not moving. Anya banned me from leaving bed.” Lexa quipped as she
reached over and grabbed Clarke’s phone, punching in the passcode and dialing
Raven’s number.
“C-dizzle!”
Lexa groaned. “It’s Lexa, and don’t call Clarke that. She hates it.”
“She called me C-dizzle, didn’t she?” Clarke asked. Lexa nodded.
“Are you two alive?”
“Yes, barely-“ Lexa coughed. “Come here, we need an ice pack or ice and our freezer
doesn’t have any.”
“What makes you think I’d have any?”
“You injure yourself on a daily basis?”
“Good point, Griffin, I’ll give you that.”

“Why do you call both of us Griffin? It’s confusing.”
“It’s your last name, and it’s Clarke’s last name. What’s confusing about it?”
“Nevermind. Did you buy the groceries already?”
“We brought them two hours ago, Lexa. You two were sleeping like babies. I texted
Clarke a picture, actually.”
“Please bring me an ice pack?”
“I’m literally at your door, geez, give a girl a minute, ok?”
Raven entered their bedroom a moment later, only popping in briefly to toss the ice
pack at Lexa before she was out of the door again.
“Sorry, Anya banned me from getting sick!” She quipped as she headed back out
again, and Clarke groaned.
“Thanks anyway!” Lexa called out. The ice pack she wrapped in a t-shirt and placed
onto her lower back, the coolness mixing with the heat pushing from within and
providing even the slightest bit of comfort. But then Clarke grabbed the ice pack
and placed it onto her stomach, and pulled Lexa on top of her so that the pack was
held between them, and Lexa frowned.
“Oh, so now you want to share?”
Clarke grumbled and shut her eyes again. “Shush and let me sleep.”
> they're all so adorable and perfect and i love my babies so much
> don't forget to leave comments you guys, they really do drive me on and it's such
a nice compliment for the hard work that i put into each chapter
> also i'll just advertise here that i started a ranya-centric fic, it's called
Kiss Me Goodnight and it's pretty awesome so you might wanna check that out in my
works :)
45. Chapter 45
> yes i know you guys want drama BUT THERES SO MUCH FLUFF (there'll be drama coming
up though dont worry)
> also you sinners are being very adamant that i throw in some sin so y'all are
getting sin tomorrow
> saturday more like sinday (shit i should do it on sunday, sunday sinday sounds
better)
A day passed by, and Lexa grew much sicker than Clarke was. By the next evening,
her fever was at an all-time high, resulting in extreme discomfort for Lexa. She
was hot and cold at the same time, and she felt grossly sweaty – and it didn’t help
that in her state, she really wanted to be held. Clarke was less sick than she was,
though her headaches made her very grumpy, and she was more than happy to comply
with Lexa’s need for closeness. To ward off the excess heat they were generating,
they’d shed their clothes and reverted to using ice packs wrapped in towels to
provide them at least some coolness even when they were cold. It was a strange
thing; they were cold, but at the same sweaty, and under the covers it was hot and
stuffy. Ice packs balanced everything out nicely.
Despite all her efforts to stay away from Clarke and Lexa, Raven had fallen ill as
well, and so it was left to Anya to take care of all three of the idiots. Raven she
found a surprisingly easy patient; she basically just slept, only waking up
periodically to grumble and demand food, and Anya found it absolutely endearing how
soundly she slept. Clarke and Lexa, on the other hand, were absolute messes; Clarke
had headaches which Anya’s pain killers could only somewhat help, and that made her
very pissy, whilst Lexa just hated the entire premise of the world and everything
in it.
But she soldiered on anyway. That day she’d visited Clarke’s and Lexa’s apartment
four times to make sure they had eaten and were alright. When she’d received news
of Clarke’s lab results, which had been negative for anything that would have given
rise to further worry, she’d gone over to find the two of them sleeping soundly in
each other’s arms. Finding the scene so endearing and serene, she had written
Clarke a quick note and left as quietly as she could, deciding she’d give them the
rest they needed.
She headed out for a little while to pop over to her own apartment to get some
fresh clothes, and when she came back, she entered Raven’s apartment to find Raven
sitting in the kitchen, waiting for her.
“Where’d you go?”
Anya shut the door behind her and shrugged. “Got myself some fresh clothes.”
“You were gone a while.”
Anya studied Raven’s expression, and found it odd; she looked anxious, stressed
even, and Anya had no idea what it was about.
“Why do you look like that?”
“While you were gone, your phone rang.”
A quick pat of her pockets revealed to Anya that her phone wasn’t with her, and she
looked at Raven in confusion. “Did you answer?”
“Yeah.”
Raven was quiet, and Anya felt very unsettled by her silence.
“Raven, you’re kinda scaring me.”
Raven raised a hand to rub at her temple and sighed. “Sorry, I’m a little out of
it.”
“Let’s get you back to bed.” Anya walked over and promptly picked Raven up, and
Raven let her; she slung her arms around Anya’s neck and buried her face in her
shoulder, and when Anya tried to lay her into the bed, she wouldn’t let go –
instead, she yanked at Anya so that she fell beside her onto the bed.
“Raven, I-“
“The call was from Doctors Without Borders,” Raven began, “Some woman named Anna? I
don’t know, but she told me to tell you that there’s some urgent need for a
leadership position to be filled.”
“And?”
“Abroad.”
“What?”
“She told me to tell you what it was, because she wants an answer by tomorrow and
she’s out of the office for the day.”
“Tell me what?”
Raven sighed. “It’s some…project leader position, for like a month I think, in
Chad.”
“And they want me?”
“Mhm.”
Anya sighed and laid onto her back, thinking Raven would want her space - but
instead, she was surprised when Raven climbed onto her, nuzzling her face into her
neck, her arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.
“But what’s wrong?” Anya asked quietly.
Raven sighed, and her breath was hot against Anya’s skin – a little too hot, even.
She still had a little fever, even though the medicine had helped get it down.
“It’s nothing.”
“No, something’s wrong. Tell me.”
“It’s stupid.”
“You’re stupid anyway. Tell me.”
Anya had to wait a long while before the brunette in her arms spoke again.
“I don’t like the thought of you going away for a month.”
Raven sounded so vulnerable, her voice quiet and small, that Anya couldn’t help but
wrap her arms around her even tighter and pull her close. “That’s not stupid at
all.”
“Are you going to go?”
Anya sighed. “If the position is what I think it is, I’d be stupid to decline.”
“Oh.”
Raven trembled just the slightest bit, and Anya looked down at her in surprise.
“Raven, are you crying?”
The brunette wiped at her eyes and hid her face further into Anya’s neck. “No.”
“Raven…”
“I’m sick and tired and emotional, and I just spent the past hour imagining what
it’d be like to be all alone again, and I just-“
Anya sighed and brought her hand up to stroke Raven’s hair gently. “That’s
alright.”
“But you’re going to go.”
“I have a career to think about, Raven.”
“I don’t…no, I’m not going to say I don’t want you to go, because it’s your career.
But I won’t like it.”
“I won’t like it either.”
“But it’s your career.”
“It’s my career,” Anya agreed. “But we’ll worry about that later. For now, you need
to rest.”
“Can you stay here?” Raven asked. "In bed, with me?"
“Even though you might get me sick?”
“Please?”
Anya just smiled. “Well if you insist...”
* * *
Clarke awoke in the dark of night, finding her mouth parched like a desert. There
was no water in her glass, and so with a groan she crawled out of bed and to the
bathroom to get some water to soothe her sore throat and dry, cracked lips. She
wasn’t feeling so bad anymore – the headache was still there, but her fever was
lessening, and she was sure that she’d be just fine in a matter of days.
Lexa, on the other hand, had taken a worse hit, and was most likely going to be ill
for at least a week – as according to Anya, anyway. And so Clarke took care to
refill Lexa’s glass too, and tiptoed back to the bed as quietly as she could,
despite knowing Lexa wouldn’t wake even if the ground was shaking.
She had just settled down on her side of the bed when she felt Lexa stirring, and
turned around to find her staring at her with wide eyes.
“Lexa, you okay?”
Lexa mumbled something incoherent, and reached over to turn on the light on her
nightstand. Clarke blinked at the sudden brightness, and failed at first to notice
the confusion on Lexa’s face.
“What…”
Clarke finally regained her ability to see. “What do you mean what?”
“Are you an angel?”
Clarke almost laughed when she heard that; she could still distinctly recall the
first thing Lexa had ever said to her, and now she’d said it again. But the
confusion on Lexa’s face told her that Lexa wasn’t joking, and she smiled gently.
“No, I’m not an angel.”

Lexa frowned. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now put the light out and go to sleep.”
Lexa stared at her for a while after she’d put out the light; it was only slightly
dark in their room, and Clarke could still very easily see the expressions on her
face.
“Hey…”
“Would it be weird if I kissed you right now?”
Clarke stared at Lexa for a while, surprised as ever, before finally regaining her
senses and answering. “No.”
The brunette shuffled closer, and paused for just a moment, their lips just a
breath away from each other. “Wait. Are you single?”
Clarke smiled. “Nope.”
“What?”
“I’m married to you, you idiot.”
Lexa blinked, her sleepy daze still very much clouding her mind. “Wait…”
Clarke kissed Lexa gently and allowed her the time she apparently needed to process
this huge bit of news.
“I’m married to you?” Lexa asked in awe.
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.”
Clarke couldn’t help but laugh as she laid her head down onto the pillow. Lexa laid
her head down as well, so close to Clarke’s face she could feel her breath tingling
her skin; the brunette was staring at her, eyes wide with awe and admiration, and
Clarke found it infinitely hilarious. She was obviously either sleep-talking or in
any case not fully awake – clearly, Nyquil or whatever Anya had given her to help
her sleep didn’t pair very well with her mind.
“You’re my wife.”
“That I am.”
“If I’m your wife, that would mean that you’re my wife, yes.”
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I hit the jackpot.”
Clarke let out a laugh, and leaned in to kiss Lexa quickly. “That’s adorable. Do
you know what your ring says?”
“...no?”
“Jackpot.”
“Huh?”
“As in you hit the jackpot, you idiot. Now sleep, Lexa.”
Lexa furrowed her brows, but said nothing; she closed her eyes a little while
later, but didn’t fall asleep entirely at first. Only once she’d found Clarke’s
hand and laced their fingers together did she fall asleep, and Clarke watched her
for a little while before she, too, slipped back into sleep.
* * *
When Lexa awoke the next morning, she could not recall a single thing about what
had happened during the night. As Clarke gave her a detailed rundown of her drugged
daze, Lexa’s face grew redder and redder until she hid her face into a pillow and
grumpily told Clarke to never mention it again.
Clarke, feeling significantly better now, climbed over Lexa and leaned in close,
her lips grazing Lexa’s ear as she whispered: “Never.”
“Clarke.”
“It was so adorable!”
“Shut up.”
“You were so confused!”
“Shush.”
“Never.”
Lexa threw a pillow into Clarke’s face. “Please.”
Clarke just laughed, and got up to fix them some breakfast. While she was cooking
her infamous ‘not-so-disgusting’ eggs, Anya entered the apartment.
“Glad to see you’re alive and well,” she commented. “How’s Lexa?”
“Grumpy.”
“Any better?”
“I think her fever’s gone a little down, but she did wake up in a drugged daze last
night. Didn’t remember we were married.”
“That’s probably just the fever dreams. She might’ve actually been sleeping the
whole time.”
“I know.”
Anya remained there in the kitchen, shifting uncomfortably on her feet for almost a
minute till Clarke noticed.
“Is something wrong?”

“I need advice.”
“About what?”
Anya sighed and sat down onto a barstool. Her head she leaned on her hand, and
Clarke now saw that she was truly troubled with something.
“What is it, Anya?”
“I got offered a job.”
“That’s great, isn’t it?” Clarke asked as she divided the eggs into two and laid
them out on two plates.
“No, it’s not.”
“Why not?”
“The job’s in Chad, Clarke.”
“Chad?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “A country in Africa?”
“Yes, I know what it is, I’m just surprised.”
“It’s a month-long gig, they need an answer by today because apparently it’s an
emergency…”
“Does Raven know?”
“She answered my phone when they called. Clarke, she _cried_. I mean she claimed
she wasn’t crying, but still – she’s upset about it, and she doesn’t want me to
go.”
“Do you want to go?”
Anya sighed. “I…no, I don’t want to leave Raven, but…it’s a promising job. This
could fast-forward my career by years.”
“Then go.”
“Really?”
“Raven will understand. She does now, I’m sure. If she cried, it’s because she knew
you’d go, and was probably already imagining you being gone.”
“But I don’t want to hurt her.”
“And yourself, don’t forget. You care about her, right?”
“Of course I do.”
Clarke smiled. “It’s one month. You can handle it, and Raven can handle it. It’ll
be that much better when you get back.”
Anya sighed again. “I just…”
“You’re worried about Raven.”

“My job’s never been a problem, you know? I’ve never had to worry about anyone but
myself, but now…”
“Hey. I’ve lived with my mom going off on various gigs all my life. It’s just what
she likes to do, and it's perfectly fine. Raven will be fine.”
“I’ll miss her.”
“Of course you will.”
“So you’re sure she’ll be alright?”
“So long as you don’t dump her, you’re golden.”
Anya was quiet for a while, and Clarke gasped.
“You're dumping her!?”
“God, no!” Anya said quickly. “I just…ah, nevermind.”
"No, tell me. What?"
"I just...Raven's had bad breakups, hasn't she?"
Clarke furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"
"She's...her heart's been broken before?"
"Yes, sadly," Clarke admitted. "But why do you need to know about that?"
"I don't want to do that."
"Do what?"
"Break up with her."
"Then don't."
"I won't."
"Good, now stop being stupid and worrying about stupid things like breakups when
obviously you two are going to get hitched in a year or two."
Anya laughed. "We'll see whether marriage or murder comes first."
Clarke laughed. “Fair enough. When do you leave for Chad?”
“In three days, if I take it.”
“Then go to Raven, and tell her that you’re going. But don’t forget to reassure her
that you’re coming back, and that your relationship isn’t going on hold or
whatever. Because she will worry about that, and I want you to make sure she
doesn’t go overboard with her stress. Just little things. Phones and Skype exist
for a reason, remind her of that. She's a worrier.”
Anya smiled. “Thank you.”
Clarke took the two plates and headed upstairs, where she found Lexa still buried
beneath the covers. When she sat down beside her, the covers were thrown off,
revealing a grumpy but extremely hungry Lexa. She took the plate that Clarke was
offering, and flashed a grateful smile before delving into it.
“Holy shit, either I’m starving or you can actually cook.”
“Hey!” Clarke interjected. “I can make eggs.”
Lexa smiled. “Fair enough. You can make eggs.”
For a while, they ate in silence.
“Who were you talking to?”
Clarke swallowed her mouthful of eggs before speaking. “Anya.”
“Why was she here?”
“She needed advice about a…thing.”
“What thing?”
“About Raven.”
“They’re okay, are they?”
Clarke pondered for a while whether she should tell Lexa, and ultimately decided
that Lexa was her wife and deserved to know.
“Anya’s going away for a month. To Africa.”
Lexa stared at her for a while. “Oh.”
“And she wanted advice on what she should do.”
“About what?”
“About Raven. Whether she should go.”
“What’d you say?”
“I told her to take the job, it’ll better her career, and honestly, it’ll make
their relationship stronger.”
“Or it’ll break them apart.”
“It won’t. Raven’s patient.”
“Anya is too.”
“And Raven will have us to make sure she’s not entirely alone.”
“So basically we get to babysit her for a month?”
“Hey, she’s not a baby. An idiotic child sometimes, maybe, but she’s wonderful.”
Lexa laughed. “I know, I was just joking. She’s the only person I’ve met who can
remain childish and yet be so grown up sometimes.”
“That’s her best quality, I’d say. Even though she’s still pretty much an asshole.”
“You love her.”
“I do.”
“But not more than you love me.”
“No, don’t worry,” Clarke chuckled. “I love you the most.”
Lexa grinned. “I love you the mostest.”
“God, you’re an idiot.”
“It’s these eggs, I’m pretty sure you spiked them.”
“The secret ingredient is lo-ove,” Clarke teased.
“Well then I’m drunk on your love, Clarke.”
Clarke paused for a second. “That’s actually really cute.”
“I know. I can be cute sometimes.”
“More like always.”
> Oh no Ranya drama!

> I'm having fun with all the character interactions, Clarke&Anya are a friendship
pair I really enjoy
> don't forget to leave kudos and comments
> if you have any questions or prompts or want to demand more sin, hit me up
@clexy-polarbear
46. Chapter 46
> you guys asked (or, well, begged) for sin

> so you get sin
> i PROMISE you the plot's coming back in the next chapter, but i had to give in to
the dozens of asks i've been getting about that damn gift card
> so here, enjoy it, ya nasties (don't worry, being the writer, i'm the nastiest of
you all)
Three days later all three of them were healthy again, thanks to Anya’s vigilant
nursing and mothering; the sheer number of nutrients and food and medicine which
she’d shoved into them, especially Lexa, would’ve surely cured an army, but they
didn’t complain.
And so it came that they all headed out at 3am on a Monday morning to see Anya off
to Africa. Clarke had refused to let Raven go alone, and Lexa had gone because Anya
was her friend too. They’d had a little farewell party the night before, after
which Raven had taken care to indulge in all of Anya, resulting in her being very
sore and very sleep-deprived early that morning.
Anya was practically ready for murder – she hated early morning calls as they were,
and despised flying – when you added to that the fact that she was about to leave
Raven for an entire month, her annoyance was more than understandable. She hated
seeing Raven look so down, practically on the brink of tears, and it made her own
fight with the nagging feeling in her gut that much harder. There was no witty
banter, no snarky comments or jokes that morning; no, Raven just sat with her in
the back of the car whilst Clarke drove, Anya’s hand in hers whilst her thumb drew
endless circles on her skin. Her face was nuzzled in Anya's neck, and she wore
Anya's hoodie. She had insisted she be let keep it, and Anya had been more than
willing to do so, in exchange for a hoodie of Raven's to take with her to Africa.
Raven had given her two, because apparently she'd found out that nights in
Chad could actually get cold.
Anya wasn't so sure if she'd read the right sources.
Clarke, Lexa and Raven came with Anya as far as they could, and for a long while,
Anya and Raven just stood there, hugging one another as though they had no
intentions of letting go. When they did separate, it was only for Anya to say
goodbye to Lexa, after which she enclosed Raven into her arms once again.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Anya said softly. “And I’ll call you the second
I can, ok?”
Raven nodded. “I mean, it’s not like I’ll miss you or anything, right?”
But the joke was half-hearted at best, and Anya smiled gently before cupping
Raven’s face and kissing her, deep and for as long as she possibly could. She was
not one for PDA, but this was an exception. The thought of not being able to do
this, to touch and kiss Raven, to not even see her for an entire month, it bothered
her more than anything.
They’d only known a couple of months, and yet, Anya hated leaving her. She knew
she’d miss her – hell, she missed her now, even though she was still there, her
lips pressed against hers with one hand planted on her waist. She missed her when
she slept at her apartment and Raven at her own - she sometimes even missed her
when Raven went down to get the mail in the morning.
A month would be hell.
“Well, um,” Anya stammered once she’d pulled away. “I gotta go.”
Raven nodded. “Don’t you go catching some stupid tropical disease, okay? Promise?”
Anya laughed. “No, Raven, I won’t.”
And then she went, passed the doors and was gone. Raven stood there, shoulders
hunched and jaw clenched, looking so painfully small that Clarke couldn’t help but
feel pity. She walked over and wrapped an arm around Raven’s shoulders, and Raven
sighed then, a shaky breath leaving her chest.
“This is stupid,” she muttered.
“I agree,” Clarke sighed, “It’s stupid. But she’ll be back in a month.”
“I know.”
“Four weeks.”
“It feels so long.”

“Thirty days. Today’s day one. Twenty-nine to go.”
* * *
The next day, Lexa went back to work, and Clarke stayed home with the intent of
tending to Raven. But the brunette had holed herself up in her bedroom, adamant to
not come out, and Clarke soon found herself utterly and painfully bored.
In her bored state of mind, her thoughts began to wander, and soon they crossed
over to that of a more compromising nature. A smile spread onto her face when she
recalled the quickie they’d had that morning in the shower, and the hickey Lexa had
left just below her jaw.
With a start, she recalled the gift card, which was safely stashed in the drawer of
her nightstand. And then the next thing she knew, she had thoughts of Lexa in her
head, sprawled out before her as she fucked her with a toy. She shuddered at the
thought, and the heat that pooled at the pit of her stomach and in between her
thighs excited her to no end.
It’d been too long since she’d last surprised Lexa.
And so Clarke got up and found herself in a sex shop not an hour later, completely
overwhelmed by just about everything on offer and feeling simultaneously excited
and a little terrified.
The salesperson, thank god, was a kind young guy, and after noticing Clarke’s
apparent lack of experience with most of the merchandise on offer, went over to
help her. With his help, Clarke ended up leaving the store with a brand new strap
on and an overwhelming desire to use it in that instant. But she stifled the desire
to rush over to Lexa’s office and take her there; no, she went home, and indulged
herself in a long, relaxing bath, so that when Lexa finally did come home, her skin
was smooth and soft and smelled of mangoes and citrus.
It was rather late when Lexa did come home, but the instant she entered the
apartment, she knew it wasn’t just going to be any night in. Clarke was seated on a
barstool, clad in nothing but her underwear, a coy look in her eye and her hair put
up in a ponytail which Lexa rarely saw – most times, it was tied up when they were
having sex, and Clarke’s intentions were more than evident to her.
“You’ve had a…fun day,” she commented. Clarke hummed and stood up, walking over and
helping Lexa’s coat off her, her lips pressing soft kisses along her neck as she
did. Lexa sighed and laid her head against Clarke’s shoulder as her arms wrapped
around her waist and began undoing the buttons of her shirt, agonizingly slow in
their movements. Her shirt Clarke dropped to the floor, and next she went for the
zipper of Lexa’s skirt, which was also taken off of her relatively fast.
Once Lexa was only in her underwear, Clarke took her hand and led her upstairs. She
was yet to say a word, but Lexa was in no mood to talk.
She had better uses for Clarke’s mouth.
Clarke led her to the bed and laid her down, climbing atop her with the coy look
all-too visible in her blue eyes. Her lips claimed Lexa’s, and Lexa sighed happily;
she was already aroused from just the sight of Clarke, simultaneously presenting as
overwhelmingly needy and so nonchalant about that fact. Clarke was so…languid with
her kisses, so slow, but the smile never left her lips – she knew something Lexa
didn’t, and with each coy look and sly grin Lexa’s curiosity grew and grew till she
could only just bear it.
“You know,” Clarke murmured amidst kisses, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Lexa sighed and pulled Clarke further up atop her, her hands pressing into her
waist and keeping her close. “What is it?”
“I cashed in the gift card.”
Lexa gaped at Clarke, surprise and excitement mixing within her mind. “R-really?”
“Yeah.”
“What-“
Clarke chuckled and leaned in to nip at Lexa’s earlobe. “I told you ages ago what
I’d get, and I’m going to deliver on that promise.”
Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat, and Clarke grinned at how excited the thought
got her. She pressed a kiss at the soft spot beneath Lexa’s ear before speaking
again, this time with a low and husky voice which she knew sent shivers down Lexa’s
spine.
“You’ve had a long, hard day,” she murmured, “And now I’m going to fuck you the
same way. Long. Hard.”
Lexa’s hips lifted just slightly. “Please.”
But Clarke tutted and gave her neck another kiss, no longer gentle but demanding
and passionate in nature. “Don’t be so hasty.”
Her hand slid down along Lexa’s side, her nails dragging along her skin, till they
came to her hips. From there, she moved her hand to cup Lexa’s sex over her
panties, and was more than happy to see she’d soaked through them.
“This wet? Already?”
Lexa blushed. “I may have had some…distracting thoughts at work.”
“Oh?”
“About you.”
“Do tell.”
“How about you fuck me instead?”
Clarke smirked. “Bossy.”
Lexa moved her hips, slightly grinding against Clarke’s hand. “More like needy.”
At that, she saw the entirety of her wife’s demeanor change – the softness was
gone, replaced by excitement and a hunger Lexa hadn’t ever seen, but was more than
ready to satisfy. Slowly, Clarke began pleasuring her over the thin fabric of her
underwear, all the while kissing Lexa in a manner which made her stomach do flips.
She was wet, she was more than willing, and she wanted Clarke to fuck her with
whatever she’d gotten with the gift card.
She didn’t just want. She needed it. She’d had a long day, and was tired and needed
release more than anything, and if just the _thought_ of Clarke fucking her with a
toy had her dripping and moaning, she couldn’t even bring herself to imagine what
it’d be like for it to actually happen.
“You want it?”
Lexa looked into Clarke’s eyes. “Yes, I do.”
Clarke got up then, and with one lingering kiss to Lexa’s hip went over to the
bathroom. Lexa laid there in anticipation, her entire body burning with excitement
and curiosity. Her sex was throbbing, as was her heart, and the urge to pleasure
herself right then and there was all too high – but she didn’t, no, she just waited
for Clarke, her legs spread out and her body exposed in the most vulnerable of
manners.
She had to admit that the toy looked a little funny, as did the harness, but she
was also incredibly excited when she saw Clarke emerge from the bathroom, wearing
the harness and the toy attached to it.
“Right,” Clarke muttered as she came closer, “I haven’t ever actually used this,
but…can’t be that hard, can it?”
Lexa laughed and shuffled up further on the bed. “How do you want me?”
“Don’t you remember what I said that one time?”
Lexa nodded and stood up before Clarke, her hand snaking up to claim her lips for a
passionate, almost rough kiss. “You wanted to bend me over. So do it. Bend me
over.”
Clarke looked so surprised at her crude words that Lexa couldn’t help but smile.
But then the next second she was turned around and bent over the bed, Clarke’s lips
pressing kisses along her shoulder gently as her other hand angled the toy. The
first touch of it against her sex felt strange, but the anticipation of it all made
it feel like a jolt of electricity. And then, slowly as one could, Clarke began
sliding it in.
This was a new feeling to Lexa, but in no way unwelcome; Clarke was so careful with
her at first, the very first thrust an agonizingly slow feat – but then, when she
heard the pleased moan that left Lexa’s lips, she became more and more confident
with what she was doing. The sight before her was intoxicating; Lexa’s back was one
thing she really enjoyed, as was her ass, and she now had perfect view of them both
as the brunette was bent over before her, the toy buried deep within her wetness
and heat. It was dirty, it was hot, and god, if it didn’t rile Clarke up like
nothing else.
And then she began moving her hips, slowly at first to try and learn some technique
and to give Lexa the time to adjust. But after Lexa had pushed backwards into the
toy and groaned an exasperated ‘more’ into the pillow in her hands, Clarke had
picked up the pace, and was soon fucking her quickly and rough – Lexa was
whimpering, crying out at times, but the sounds that left her lips were not from
pain but from pleasure. Half her pleasure was from the act itself, from the feel of
the toy filling her and fucking her – but the other half came from the mental
aspect of the whole thing. She was bent over, submitted to Clarke, who was pounding
into her from behind with a toy, and it all felt so dirty and sexy that Lexa was
aroused to no end. Clarke’s hands were on her waist, pulling her back with each
thrust, and Lexa could feel her fingers digging into her skin as she continued to
fuck her.
She could easily cum from penetration alone. Lexa knew this, as did Clarke, but
Clarke was determined to _see_ Lexa climax. And so she pulled out of her, flipping
her over and pushing her further up on the bed before climbing over her and
entering her again. The change in angle caused Lexa to gasp when the toy pressed at
her g-spot in a new, infinitely pleasurable way. Clarke was on her, she was _in_
her, and their lips met like a crash; Lexa grasped at Clarke’s shoulders as the
blonde fucked her, her short nails still somehow managing to dig into the soft skin
of her shoulders. Clarke’s mouth silenced the pleased whimpers which were leaving
Lexa’s mouth at a consistent pace, but she was more than aware of the shortening
intervals at which they came – Lexa was close, really close, she could tell so
easily because her eyes were closed and her focus was elsewhere entirely. And so
when her nails dragged – no, scratched at her skin and a moan left her throat,
Clarke knew she’d climaxed, and watched Lexa in awe as she rode out her orgasm, her
hips still moving the toy in her, slowly and tentatively. When Lexa had settled
down, Clarke swiftly undid the harness and slipped it off of herself, discarding it
right before Lexa’s hands grabbed her face and pulled her down for a passionate
kiss. Her wife was entirely spent, a slight sheen of sweat on not only her but also
Clarke’s body. A tired smile was spread onto Lexa’s lips, and she traced Clarke’s
jaw gently.
“Holy fuck.”
Clarke laughed and fell atop Lexa entirely, and Lexa joined her; she threw her arms
around her wife and turned them over so that she was on top, and their lips met
again, but Clarke couldn’t help but notice just how tired Lexa was.
“You’ve had a long day,” she murmured, “You should rest.”
“But I want to fuck you.”
“You can fuck me when you’re not phasing in and out of consciousness.”
Lexa opened her mouth to protest, but found no way she could say that what Clarke
had said wasn’t true. “Shut up.”
Clarke chuckled. “Was it good?”
Lexa hummed and laid her head onto Clarke’s chest. She could’ve sworn she still
felt the aftershocks of her orgasm.
“Amazing.”
“So you’ll be happy to do it again?”
“I’ll never want anything else."
> i don't think this is the sinniest(is that even a word) i can get, but it's
pretty sinful, right?
> if you guys haven't yet checked out my Ranya fic, i updated that today too (it's
called Kiss Me Goodnight and it's pretty great)
> anyway, leave kudos and comments
> oh and commander raccoon is updating tomorrow (i know it's been a long ish wait
but life happened in between, ya kno)
47. Chapter 47
> who asked for drama?

> yeah, i heard you
> there's a storm a'brewin and y'all can blame yourselves for the drama that's
about to ensue (but i promise it'll be p great)
It took Raven two days to get out of bed for more than two minutes. It took her
three to actually leave the apartment and go to work.
Thankfully, Anya had left on a Friday, so she didn't actually miss any work during
those two days of wallowing in self-pity.
She wanted to think that she wasn’t down, but she was. It wasn’t like she and Anya
had been constantly together – sometimes Anya had gone to her apartment and stayed
there for a couple of days, and there’d been that one time she’d gone for some
convention in Chicago and been gone for a little over a week. They’d been fine
then.
But Raven wasn’t fine now. Anya wasn’t just a couple hours away by car; she was on
another continent, only reachable by phone on occasion and rarely by Skype. She’d
called Raven from the airport when they’d landed, because the city had had good
cell service. They’d talked for as long as they could, but then Anya’s ride had
arrived, and she’d had to go. A hasty goodbye was what Raven had been left with,
and she’d sat on her bed for ages just staring at her phone.
The knowledge that she wouldn’t see Anya for another month had settled a weight
upon her heart which bothered her every movement. Even her boss couldn’t avoid
noticing her solemn mood and lack of general snarkiness, and asked her about it
during her break. She’d shrugged it off, and when he’d asked if she was ill, she’d
said no.
She could have said yes and gone home for the day, but she wasn’t sick. She
should’ve been fine, and so she pushed herself to go through the day and live her
life as it had been before Anya had entered it.
The day dragged on slow as ever – without the occasional text from Anya, everything
felt dull and boring. Raven had grown so used to spamming Anya’s phone during her
lunch hour that when it finally was twelve o’clock, she found herself with nothing
to do. So instead she ranted to Clarke about a stupid customer she’d had, and sent
a few stupid pictures of puppies to Octavia – but even so, she couldn’t help but
feel a little empty without a single message from Anya.
She’d already returned back to her place behind the register when her phone buzzed
in her pocket.
_Anya (13:04 p.m)_
_It’s hot and humid and there’s flies everywhere. Hope you had a nice lunch. Never
thought I’d say this but I prefer New York’s cold to this weather. Are you free to
call me?_
Raven smiled so widely at her phone that the woman who’d come up to the register
smiled as well, and waited patiently for her to notice her.
“Uh, sorry,” Raven stammered, pocketing her phone. “How may I help you?”
After the woman’s business was well taken care of, twenty minutes had passed, and
Raven was so jumpy and anxious she was practically on the verge of being sick.
“Hey, Sinc,” she called out to her boss, “I need to go out for a bit. My mom called
and she’s pissed as fuck.”
Her boss nodded understandingly. “That’s fine, it’s not like we’re really busy at
the moment.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
She slipped out into the back and immediately dialed Anya’s number. Each passing
dial tone made her heart stop for the slightest moment. The phone rang for an
unnecessarily long time, and for a while Raven feared she’d missed her chance – but
then the line connected, and she heard Anya’s voice, and an exasperated sigh left
her lips.
“Thought you weren’t going to call at all,” Anya said.
“Sorry, I’m at work.”
"Shouldn't you be working...?"
"I'm on a break."
“That’s good. Lexa said you hadn’t left your bed all weekend. I was afraid you’d
skip work, too.”
“I did consider it.”
“Raven…”
The way Anya said her name sent a shiver running down Raven’s spine. “It’s fine,
Anya. I’m fine.”
“So you don’t miss me?”
Raven forced a laugh. “No, of course not.”
“Wow, you’re so kind to me.”
“Of course I miss you, Anya.” Raven sighed, unable to properly even joke about it.
“I hate this.”
“I hate this too.”
“But it’s your career, so I get it.”
“Only a few weeks. Then I’ll be back.”
Raven sighed again. “How’s Chad?”
“Hot. Humid. Good food, though. Crappy internet.”
“How’s the work?”
“Mostly management. I kinda like bossing people around.”

There was a long moment of silence.
“You still there?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m still here,” Raven stammered.
“I wish you were here.”
“In Chad? No way. You might be from the South and used to that kind of weather, but
I’d die from the heat. And the humidity. And the flies.”
Anya laughed then, and Raven smiled. “You probably would.”
They chatted on for about twenty minutes till Raven finally forced herself to stop
– she was at work, after all, and she didn’t want to push her boss’s patience.
“I gotta go, Anya.”
“Okay.”
“I-“ Raven began, faltering slightly. “I’ll text you later, ok?”
There was a slight pause before Anya spoke. “Okay. Have fun at work. Try not to
kill any idiot customers, okay?”
Raven laughed. “I’ll try. Bye.”
“Bye.”
She hung up the phone and returned to work, now feeling significantly better, and
the remaining half of her work day passed over easily enough. Even so, by the time
she was able to leave and head home, she was absolutely exhausted, and practically
dragged her feet all the way home.
The elevator doors had been just about to close when a hand had come in between
them and stopped them, and in came a thin man with the baldest head Raven had ever
seen in her life. He looked like a mole rat in her opinion, or some kind of
overgrown rodent anyway. She disliked him the moment she saw him, and when he
exited the elevator at the same floor as she did, she liked him even less. She
walked in front of him, and when she saw him headed for the last remaining door at
the end of the hall, she came to decide that she hated him.
The door he was headed for was Lexa’s and Clarke’s, and Raven just _knew_ in her
gut that he was no good news. And so she ignored the burning desire in her gut to
run into her apartment and collapse into bed, and instead rushed over to intercept
his path and stop him before he reached the door.
The man looked taken aback to say the least. “I’m here to see someone?”
“Who, might I ask?”
“That’s not really any of your business-“
“Who?”
“Alexandria Woods.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed when she heard him use Lexa’s old name. No one who they knew
and liked used it; only those affiliated to her parents used it, and it was all too
easy to draw a conclusion.
“That’s the apartment of my two closest friends. They’re not expecting anyone.
They’re not even home.”
Raven thanked herself that she’d listened to what Clarke had said that morning, and
that she’d remembered that they’d gone out for a date.
“Oh, well, then I best be going-“
“I can deliver a message, if you’d like.”
The man hesitated. “I really should go.”
“Her parents sent you, didn’t they?” Raven’s voice just barely skirted the tone of
a snarl, but the man took a step back nevertheless.
“No.”
“Of course you’d say that, it’d be in violation of the restraining order if you
admitted.”
“I should get going.”
“You came here for a reason. I can deliver the message to Lexa.”
The man was no visibly annoyed – he’d been trying to get past Raven for a while
now, but Raven had simply stepped in front of him and he was yet to dare to touch
her. She was pissed now, tired and irritated and simply a ball of anger. It would
have been a foolish move to challenge her, even he could see that.
“They want her to know that they’re not going to just let this drop. She may have
won the lawsuit, but they’re not going to stop until they have their property
back.”
Raven scoffed. “And what property is that? The apartments in her name, or Lexa
herself?”
“They do not want anything affiliated with their name to be affiliated with her and
this…lifestyle.”
“Fuck off,” Raven snapped. “Just fuck off, and don't you dare come near either of
them ever again!”
She stepped aside and the man hurried away, and Raven was more than a little
pleased to see that he was very flustered. When she headed back to her apartment,
she pulled out her phone and dialed Clarke’s number, feeling awful for having to
ruin their date so – but this was information that couldn’t wait, she knew that,
and so she swallowed her guilt and called her friend to inform her that once again,
their lives were possibly going down to hell.
* * *
Clarke and Lexa were walking along a beach on Long Island when her phone rang.
They’d just finished eating dinner at a quaint little restaurant by the sea, and
were now enjoying a quiet walk along the sandy beach, arms hooked and hands tightly
held in pockets to try and keep them warm.
“It’s Raven,” Clarke muttered when she pulled up her phone. “I think I have to
answer.”
Lexa nodded. “Do.”
“Hey!” Clarke said into the phone. “What’s up?”
Lexa leaned her head against Clarke’s shoulder and tried to listen to what was
being said on the other end, but could barely hear a thing. She did feel Clarke
growing tense, and so they stopped walking altogether, allowing Lexa to look at
Clarke’s face and see she was pissed. When Clarke hung up, she looked almost
furious, and Lexa was extremely worried.
“What is it?”
“Your parents,” Clarke seethed, “They’re out to ruin us. Again.”
“What? How- wait, what?”
Clarke gave her a quick rundown of what Raven had told her.
“A bald man?”
“Mhm.”
Lexa groaned. “That was my uncle, Titus.”
“Didn’t know you had an uncle.”
“Have we ever talked about my family?”
“No.”
“That’s why.”
“Am I to assume that they’re all asshats?”
Lexa nodded. “Very much so.”
“How an angel like you could be born from such…assholes, it’ll never cease to amaze
me.” Clarke said quietly. “You sure you’re not adopted?”
“Sadly, yes.”
Clarke sighed and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist, pulling her close so that
she could rest her forehead against Lexa’s. “They’re assholes.”
“They are.”
“But we’ll be fine.”
“Of course we’ll be fine, Clarke. We’ve kicked their asses twice now.”
Clarke laughed and brought a hand up to cup Lexa’s cheek . “That’s true.”
“And besides, property doesn’t matter to me.”
“I know. But I hate having to deal with them again. I hate that _you_ have to deal
with them again.”
“I’m not weak, Clarke. I can handle it.”
“I know.”
“So how about now we enjoy the rest of our date, and worry tomorrow?”
Clarke smiled and kissed her gently. “Sure thing.”
They hooked arms again and began walking down along the white sandy beach. The
waves lapped against the shore, gently and consistently, and the darkness of night
was now surely setting in. The lights along the boardwalk lit up parts of the beach
as well – they could’ve easily walked along the smooth walk rather than the sandy
beach, but Clarke had insisted they do so.
“You know,” Lexa began after a while, “I’ve been thinking...”
“Hm?”
“About your Christmas present.”
“The tattoos?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ve decided?”
“I think so?”
Clarke smiled. “Tell me.”
And Lexa did. They found themselves a nice, quiet little café on the pier, and
settled themselves into the plush seats before a little feast of tiny dessert foods
and two excellent cups of tea. Clarke hadn’t even argued with Lexa when she’d
ordered them; tea was fast growing on her, and the fact that Lexa was pleased
whenever she managed to get Clarke to discard her rapturous love for coffee made it
all worth it.
Not to mention Lexa wasn’t so much a fan of coffee breath.
“So you’re sure?”
Lexa looked up from her cup. “Huh? About what?”
“About the tattoos.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Cause I could paint them on you first. So you could see how they look?”
Lexa smirked. “Is this just some ploy for you to get me naked?”
“Do you really think I need to trick you into taking your clothes off?” Clarke
teased.
Lexa rolled her eyes. “You make me sound like a slut.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m just saying that my presence has a very…
pleasant effect on you and the amount of clothes you wear.”
“I’ve been around you now for what, four hours? And I’m still wearing all my
clothes.”
“Come to the bathroom with me and we’ll see if you still have your clothes in two
minutes.”
> badass pissed off raven verbally kicking uncle titus's ass is my new fave thing
> also y'all been pestering me about the tattoos, yes, they're happening, but lexa
is a very slow person when it comes to decisions (except ofc marrying clarke, that
decision took about 0.2 seconds)
> don't forget to kudos and comment and whatnot, i love you all
48. Chapter 48
> drama is dramatic and it's precious and a little heart-wrenching
Clarke was stressed. That much was evident from just about every fiber of her
being; she was pacing, tense, and very irritable. She’d already snapped at Lexa
thrice just that morning, and Lexa was having a hard time reminding herself that
Clarke’s irritation was not because of her, but because of what they’d read from
the email Indra had sent them early that morning.
Her parents were at it again. Lexa had half known to expect this, so she hadn’t
been surprised when she’d read that they were in the process of undoing the
property transfers they’d done to her name years before. Indra, being their
attorney, had of course sent a complaint of this already, but in all likelihood,
the dispute was going to be long and strenuous.
They were claiming that Lexa had tricked them into transferring their property into
her name – according to what Indra had explained, their story claimed that she had
neglected to inform them of her personal ‘significant’ monetary assets, ones which
she’d earned from her internships and scholarship grants, and thus had led them to
believe that she was in need of monetary assistance. The whole claim was ridiculous
– the ‘significant’ monetary assets were barely enough for anyone to live on, since
most of them consisted of what she’d made during internships. Nevertheless, the
fact that those funds had been left out of the paperwork meant that her parents
could claim fraud, despite the fact that it had been their idea to leave it out.
They hadn’t thought it significant at the time, but Lexa now found herself
wondering if they’d always built in that little back door for themselves to undo
the transfers if need be.
The likelihood of that was high. Her parents may have been assholes, but they were
smart assholes.
Lexa knew they’d be fine. She had a sufficient salary from her job at P&R, one
which could support Clarke and herself if necessary – so what if they had to
downgrade from the beautiful loft complex to a smaller studio apartment somewhere
other than the million-dollar neighborhoods of Manhattan?
She’d endured Clarke’s pacing for half a day, but it was becoming more and more
annoying. She was tired, as was Clarke, and that bode no well for either of them.
“Clarke, could you please stop?” Lexa finally groaned from her seat on the couch.
“Your pacing is giving me a headache.”
Clarke stopped and looked at her with a strange expression on her face. “I’m
worried, Lexa, and I don’t get how you can be so calm.”
“You’re taking this too seriously. It’s just a property claim case.”
“Just? Lexa, we – no, _you_ could lose just about everything! Doesn’t that bother
you?”
“You’re making it a bigger deal than it is. You shouldn’t care so much,” Lexa
grumbled, rubbing at her forehead. She had a headache, and Clarke’s pacing and
nervousness was only making it worse.
“Clearly I do need to care, seeing as you don’t seem to care at all.”
“Lexa, you didn’t even react when you read the email.”
“So?”
“Do you even care?”
“About what? Some material property?”
“Your parents are trying to ruin you again, and you’re just sitting there, calm and
zen like nothing’s wrong!” Clarke snapped.
“I- It doesn’t matter, Clarke, I knew it’d happen.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s any less shitty!”
“It’s not like we could’ve stopped it.”
“I- I don’t get it. I don’t get you.”
“Clarke…”
“No, I want you to listen. Ok?”
Lexa was quiet, and Clarke took a breath before continuing.
“I know you think it’s just material possessions, but it’s more than just that –
your parents are literally trying to ruin you, ruin us, and you’re not doing
anything, you’re just sitting there and waiting patiently without a care in the
world. I don’t understand it, I can’t understand it-“
“I don’t see a point in fighting, ok?” Lexa snapped. “I’m tired of fighting them.
You’re right, I don’t care. They can take all of their stupid properties if they
want, I couldn’t give a damn.”
“Lexa, that’d mean we’d have to move.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“We’ve _just_ settled here!” Clarke interjected.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t settle somewhere else.”
“You can’t just give up!”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t.”
“You can’t make me do this. You can’t tell me to fight them, to go against them in
court-“
“I know I can’t, but I really want you to! You seriously can’t give up!”
“Clarke-“
Clarke was about to say something, but caught herself before she did – she was
angry, almost furious, but she wasn’t about to hurt Lexa because of it. No, she
knew that whatever left her mouth next would be hurtful, and so she turned on her
heel and rushed out of the apartment before she could do any permanent damage. Her
jacket she grabbed before she was gone, and the door she almost slammed behind her.
She didn’t want to think what that did to Lexa – no, Clarke was upset and angry and
stressed and nervous, and she needed to cool off before she could even _consider_
talking to Lexa again.
Raven heard the door slam, and when she heard hurried footsteps rush down the hall,
she grew worried. She popped her head out of the door just in time to catch sight
of Clarke entering the elevator, looking furious as ever, and knew then that all
was not well in paradise.
And certainly, that was true. Back in the apartment, Lexa was seated on the couch,
stunned and in shock, her eyes fixed on the door. The slam of it still echoed in
her mind, as did Clarke’s words, and she then felt like she’d surely cry.
She was tired. Her head throbbed with pain, and there was a wrenching disgust in
her gut – she’d fought with Clarke before, but before it’d been little things like
missing keys or misplaced letters and things like that. But this wasn’t just some
little argument – no, Clarke was rightly upset, but so was Lexa, and what had been
said rang true to her but also wounded her.
This had been their first real fight.
And Clarke had stormed off. She’d left, slammed the door, and Lexa felt more alone
in that instant then than she had ever felt. The fact that she couldn’t grab her
phone and call Anya made it all worse, and she let out a quiet sob, almost
beginning to cry fully. But a knock on the door startled her, and for a second, she
thought it was Clarke.
“Lexa?”
Lexa sighed when she heard Raven’s voice through the door.
“Hey, are you okay?”

Lexa stood up and went over to the door, opening it and returning back to the couch
without a word to Raven. The brunette stood in the doorway, unsure of whether she
was welcome inside, until Lexa gave her a slight nod. She then stepped in, as
careful and mindful of Lexa as she had ever seen her, and shut the door as quietly
as she could.
“You’re not okay.” She observed quietly as she walked over to sit down in an
armchair.
Lexa only nodded, and curled up tighter in the corner of the couch. She had no idea
how or why Raven had gotten the idea to come over just then, but was glad that she
had – just having someone there was helping, and the fact that Raven was being so
mindful and kind, it really made her feel a little better.
Raven sighed when she saw that Lexa needed some space and quiet, and got up,
walking over to the kitchen to putting the kettle on. Lexa sat on the couch, not
moving, but very aware of the unmistakable sounds of cups being set down and tea
being made, and so when Raven came back a while later with two cups of tea, one for
her and one for Lexa, she wasn’t surprised at all. She took the cup and was
surprised that Raven had known to choose her favorite tea – a little more expensive
Sencha, one which she was almost running out of, and one which she always drank
when she needed to relax. It was a little uncanny that Raven had known to choose
that one, but Lexa was too preoccupied by everything else to pay full notice to the
fact.
Raven was quiet, and Lexa was glad that she was. She wasn’t quite ready to talk.
Her thoughts were scattered all over the place, running from repeating Clarke’s
words over and over again to focusing on what she was feeling. She was
uncomfortable, a weight on her chest which she wanted gone, and she was also a
little ashamed that she didn’t feel as strongly about the situation with her
parents as Clarke did.
“She didn’t storm off because she needed to get away from you,” Raven said after a
while, drawing Lexa out of her thoughts. “She probably left because she was afraid
she’d say something stupid if she stayed.”
Lexa gaped at her, confused as to how Raven had known what had worried her the most
of all. Raven just smirked and sipped her tea. “I know Clarke. She’ll spit out some
angry words, snap at you and sometimes blow up – and then she’ll storm off
somewhere to cool off, and come back with calm words to talk it out.”
“We fought.”
Those were the first words Raven had heard Lexa say, and she nodded understandingly
when she heard them. “I’m sorry.”
Lexa hugged her mug closer to her chest and sighed. “I don’t even…god, Raven,
Clarke was so mad.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
Lexa looked at Raven, and saw no jokes or mischievousness in her eyes – no, all she
saw was kindness and warmth and _understanding_ , something which Lexa would’ve
never expected to receive from Clarke’s best friend in that instant.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked quietly. “You’re Clarke’s best friend.
Shouldn’t you take her side?”
Raven shrugged. “I’m not taking either of your sides. I’m here as a helping hand
for both of you. You’re alone, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be. Clarke needs
her time, but I think you’re the exact opposite.”
Lexa nodded slowly, the words forming in her mouth but not quite consolidating into
any coherent sentences.
“So, do you? Want to talk about it, I mean. Cause if you don’t, that’s fine, I can
just sit here, or go-“
“She’s mad at me because I don’t care about the case my parents are building
against me.”
Raven faltered over her words, and scrambled to keep her face neutral as she nodded
quietly.
“Is the case bad?”
Lexa sighed and rested her head against the couch. “Could be.”
“And Clarke’s stressed.”
“Very.”
“And you’re not.”
“I just don’t care anymore,” Lexa muttered. “She said she doesn’t understand that.”
Raven was quiet for a while. “I don’t think she does.”
“You say that like you do.”
“I don’t know…maybe?” Raven said. “I mean…my mom’s not the best. I spent half my
life trying to get away from her, and when it came time that I could’ve gotten back
at her for some of the things she did, I didn’t do it. I just didn’t feel like I
had the energy to. I didn’t want to fight anymore, so I just let it go.”
Lexa stared at Raven for a while, surprised that she understood – but she also felt
pity, because while she knew little of Raven’s situation with her mother, she did
hear much of what she felt repeated in Raven’s words. She hated being in this
situation herself, and knowing that Raven's situation had been even remotely the
same just made her feel sorry for her.
“I…I’m tired of fighting. You get that.” Lexa said quietly.
“I do.”
“Clarke doesn’t.”
“She hasn’t had anyone dragging them down all her life like you and I. She’s got
all the energy in the world.”
“It’s annoying.”
“I know it is.”
“I just really, really don’t want to fight them. I don’t care if we lose the
apartment.”
“But Clarke does? She wants to stand up to them?”

“Yeah.”
“So basically she’s mad at you because you don’t care?”
Lexa nodded.
“And you’re mad at her because she wants to push you to do something you don’t want
to?”
Another nod.
“Right.”
Raven took her dear time sipping her tea, giving Lexa some breathing room while she
tried her best to regain her thoughts.
“So what happens if you just give up?”
“I settle, and they get all their property back.”
“Can you live without the apartments and stuff?”
Lexa shrugged. “Probably.”
“Clarke’s probably worried that you won’t be able to.”
“She knows what I earn.”
“She also knows what kind of a lifestyle you’re accustomed to,” Raven pointed out.
“She might worry that you won’t be happy in a non-wealthy life.”
Lexa sighed. “Why can’t she understand that I don’t care about that?”
“It’s easy to say you don’t care about money when you have a lot of it.”
Lexa nodded slowly, understanding what Raven meant. “I just…” She sighed and leaned
against the arm of the couch again. “I wish she’d understand.”
“She will.”
“How?”
“I’ll go find her. I'll explain it to her.”
“How? She left her phone here.”
Raven smirked and set her mug down on the table. “You forget, I know Clarke. I’ve
also fought with her plenty of times, and she’s not very imaginative when it comes
to hideouts. She’s got three, to be exact.”
Lexa eyed her carefully. “What if she doesn’t want to come back?”
“Then I’ll drag her ass here,” Raven quipped. “But trust me, she will come back
with me. She’s not unreasonable.”
“But what if she’s still mad?”
“There’s nothing you two can’t overcome, I’m pretty sure of that. Now, you okay to
be by yourself for a while?”
Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t fall to the bottom of a wine bottle,” Raven joked. Immediately when the
words left her lips, she got a look of horror on her face, and quickly stammered to
correct herself. “I’m so sorry, Lexa, I didn’t mean to – god, I’m an idiot. I’m so
sorry, my mouth speaks faster than my brain thinks-“
“Raven, it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
Lexa smiled just slightly to reassure her. “Yeah, it’s fine. I'm fine.”
> i haven't had nearly enough lexa-raven interactions in this fic but i'm happy how
this turned out
> trouble in paradise will soon turn into a shitstorm in paradise, just a fair
warning
> (but once again nobody's gonna die, i hate that i have to keep reassuring you
guys about this)
> if any of you want to hit me with TMT asks or just follow my blog and my
occasional stellar jokes, check out my blog @clexy-polarbear
49. Chapter 49
> drama is fun and drama is great

> fluff-fest turned to drama-fest
> enjoy my lovelies
Slamming the door had been a bad idea. Rushing off without her phone had been an
even worse idea.
By some shot of luck, she had some change and her metro card in her pocket, as well
as her keys, and so Clarke set off without a clear destination in her head. She
walked through the park and without even thinking, got on the metro without
checking where it was headed. Even though her conscious mind was pissed and very
much out of sync with the real world, it seemed that her subconscious was very much
paying attention – before long, she found herself at a familiar station, and got
off, appearing above ground just a short walking distance from the Brooklyn Bridge.
She was just walking along, hands fisted in her pockets, without aim. There weren’t
many people around, despite it being a pretty day – a few children were playing at
the playground nearby, and there were a few joggers running along the paths, but
overall, it was lonely and quiet.
Well, as quiet as Brooklyn could get, really.
She wasn’t paying much attention – there were too many thoughts running through her
head, and she really should’ve been sitting down. But that fact became even more
evident when her foot caught on something, and the next second Clarke was falling,
just barely having enough time to yank her hands out of her pockets to shield her
face as she fell to the ground. She hissed in pain when her right hand scraped
along the gravel path, ripping away skin and burning with pain. She got up as quick
as she could, embarrassed as one could be, and dusted herself off, ignoring the
stinging pain on the side of her hand.
She didn’t care much of it, and didn’t even notice that blood seeped through the
scrape – no, what Clarke focused on was the fact that she felt like shit, the fact
that she’d yelled at Lexa gnawing at her insides in the most awful of ways. She
felt guilty and small and alone, and wanted to yell at something or everyone, and
so she found her way to a bench and sat down to calm herself down.
* * *
Raven made a well-educated guess and found Clarke on her first try, seated on a
bench in the Brooklyn Bridge Park, her blue eyes fixed on the water before her and
looking stormy as ever. But it wasn’t anger that was making them so dark and
tumultuous; no, as Raven came nearer, she saw that it was sorrow, exhaustion, and
guilt, all three emotions practically emanating through from Clarke’s being. She
sat down beside her on the bench, and waited for Clarke to come out of her shell.
“Lexa and I fought.”
“I know.”
Clarke sighed. “Is she okay?”
“She wants you to come home.”
“I…I don’t know, Raven.”
“Know what?”
“I don’t know what I’ll say to her.”
“Are you still mad?”
“No.”
“Then it’ll be fine.”
Raven glanced sideways at Clarke and saw something she’d only seen a few
times before – Clarke was fighting back tears, real tears, focusing so hard on
keeping composed that her hands, gripping the edge of her seat, were entirely
white.
“Clarke…”
Clarke shook her head and buried her face in her hands, slowly breaking down right
before Raven’s eyes. Raven sighed and placed a hand on Clarke’s back, trying to
find comforting words to say to her as Clarke fought hard to not cry.
“I’m just so tired of worrying all the time,” Clarke muttered, “I’m exhausted.”
“Lexa is too.”
“But she- she doesn’t even seem to care! And that just worries me more, because it
just feels like she _wants_ them to ruin us- to ruin her, she’s letting it happen
and I just…”
“She doesn’t, trust me.”

“Then why doesn’t she want to finish it? Fight them?”
“She’s tired, Clarke. Even more than you are. She’s exhausted.”
“But she’s so fine about it.”
“She’s lived with it. You haven’t.”
“Are you saying I don’t know how to handle it?”
“Yes.”
But somehow, Clarke couldn’t even get herself to snap at Raven for it, because she
knew Raven was right.
“You need to talk to Lexa,” Raven said quietly. “Tell her that you’re tired and
scared. And don’t fucking hold back the tears, you’ll shatter yourself from the
inside if you do that.”
“But I don’t want to cry.”
“Does anyone ever _want_ to cry?”
“Raven, I really-“
“Clarke, thus far it’s been you comforting Lexa. You have your own problems and
hurts. Isn’t it only fair that you get comforted as well?”
“But I don’t have any right to be hurt.”
“Yes, you do, you idiot.”
“Shut up.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “No, Clarke, I’m actually serious. You can’t just ignore
whatever you’re feeling.”
“But-“
“No, shush. Just pretend for a moment that whatever Lexa’s feeling doesn’t exist.
What do _you_ feel?”
Clarke shot her a glare, but it was half-hearted at best, and did nothing to worry
Raven. And so she sighed, and rested her head against her hand, her fingers
pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to gather her thoughts.
“I feel tired. I want to yell at her parents, kick their asses. I just want them to
disappear once and for all, and if Lexa just _gives_ up, they’ll think it’s okay to
walk all over her again. I’m afraid, Raven, I’m fucking _terrified_ because they’re
powerful people and I don’t understand half of the things that are happening, and
Lexa does try to explain it but…I didn’t go to Harvard. I don’t know how serious
this is, but it sounds bad. Really bad. And…they could ruin everything if they
wanted. She told me about what they did to get rid of negative influences in her
life. Raven, they’ve caused people to go bankrupt and end up homeless. I can’t- I’m
just fucking terrified.”
“Shit, that’s rough.”
For a while, Clarke just stared at the bridge, her hands fiddling with the string
of her hoodie. “I can’t tell Lexa to fight them.”
“No, you really can’t. It's her decision.”
“But I want her to.”
“Tell her why you want her to. Maybe she’ll understand.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Raven, if I talk to her, I’ll fucking break. I don’t- she’s lived with this her
whole life, I’ve dealt with them for only a couple of months and I’m exhausted and
breaking. She’s not broken even though it’s been her whole life – I can’t tell her
that I’m tired, I don’t have any right-“
“Clarke, just because she’s fucking strong and invincible doesn’t mean you’re weak
for feeling things because of her shitty parents.”
“No but…you don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand, Clarke. I hate seeing you like this.”
“I can’t-“
“You can tell me anything, you know that.”
Clarke cringed. “Raven, for a split second, I wished none of this had happened.”
Raven stared at her, and Clarke was so digusted with herself that she was sure
she’d vomit – but then Raven’s arms pulled her in for a tight hug, and Clarke
sighed, feeling comforted and comfortable and that little bit less awful.
“Just a split second, right?” Raven asked quietly when she pulled back.
“It doesn’t matter how quickly the thought went away! I thought it, I wished I’d
never met her or married her for a split second – I mean I didn’t think that
exactly, I just wished I’d never been sucked into this shitstorm with her parents,
but it doesn’t matter because I basically wished I’d never married her and I just
can’t-“
“Clarke.”
Clarke shut up then, and looked at Raven with teary eyes.
“You’re overwhelmed because of her parents. You’re terrified for you and for her.
And whatever you wished for that split second, it doesn’t matter. It passed. You
don’t wish you’d never met her now, do you?”
“God, no. Never.”
“See? It’s all fine.”
“But-“
“No, shush. You’re upset, but you’re calm enough to go talk to Lexa.”
“I-“
Raven stood up then, and grabbed Clarke’s arm. “Please. You know she’s worried
sick.”
“I know she is.”
“Good. Then let’s go.”
* * *
Clarke stood outside the door for what felt like an eternity. Raven had left her
there with a reassuring smile and a quiet ‘it’ll be fine, it’s not like you’ll die’
and then went back to her apartment, leaving Clarke alone and completely terrified.
She’d slammed the door. She didn’t know what to expect. Sure, Raven had told her
that Lexa was fine, but Clarke found she couldn’t quite believe it – she’d
basically told Lexa that she wasn’t doing anything, yelled at her for not caring
about the trial – it would’ve been impossible for Lexa to just brush that off.
She took a deep breath, swallowed her fear and the disgust that was growing in her
gut, and opened the door.
Lexa was still sitting on the couch, chin resting atop her knees, which were held
to her chest – her eyes were watching Clarke, and she was entirely silent, but
Clarke saw no anger in her look. No, all she saw was hurt and confusion, an attempt
to understand despite yet not knowing Clarke’s side.
Her silence both scared and comforted Clarke. At least she wasn’t outright yelling.
But she also found it heavy and impossible to break – she stood there, a few feet
from the couch, fiddling with her hands, unable to speak.
Lexa’s eyes ran over her carefully, and widened in shock when they saw the blood on
Clarke’s hand.
"You’re hurt!”
She rose from the couch and walked over, not even stopping when she took Clarke’s
hand into hers, bringing it closer so she could see. Clarke only now realized how
bloodied her hand was, and hissed in pain when Lexa’s finger ran over the scrape.
“It’s fine.”
“Clarke, what happened?”
Clarke looked away. “I fell.”
“Are you alright?”
“Lexa…”
“Look, Clarke-“ Lexa began, sighing heavily as she tried to find the right words.
“I get it. I get why you’re mad.”
“You do?”
“You don’t want me to give up because you’re afraid it’ll just make them think they
can do it again.”
Clarke stared at Lexa, her hand still held in Lexa’s – she did not know what to
say, her anger dissipated altogether, replaced with a feeling of hopelessness which
she couldn’t fathom. Lexa let go of her hand then, and walked away for the briefest
moment, only to return with the first aid kit they kept in the kitchen. She
gestured at the couch, and Clarke went over to sit down, and allowed Lexa to take
her hand and clean it up.
“I do care,” Lexa said quietly as she cleaned the cut, “Of course I do.”
Clarke bit her tongue as the antiseptic stung at her hand. “Lexa, I- I’m sorry. I’m
sorry I said you don’t care.”
Lexa focused on cleaning the scrape, dabbing at each cut more times than necessary.
There were some pieces of gravel stuck in the cuts, and those she picked out with
tweezers.
“You’re just worried,” she murmured as she searched the bag for some bandages, “You
worry enough for the both of us.”
And then she smiled carefully.
“I want you to understand why I’d want you to fight them. I’m not telling you to, I
just-“ Clarke faltered slightly when Lexa’s eyes raised to meet hers, full of
question and concern. “I’m terrified, Lexa. I don’t know how you can keep so cool,
but I can’t – I’ve been trying, but it’s so hard, and I just-“ She paused, because
tears had brimmed up in her eyes again. Despite all her determination to not break,
she could not keep herself contained – and so a tear slipped down her cheek, and
the pain in Lexa’s eyes when she saw that was so great Clarke could’ve sworn she’d
never seen Lexa hurting more.
“I don’t even understand half of what’s happening, all I know is that they’re
trying to ruin us and that they’ve succeeded at it before with other people, and I
don’t want us ruined – I don’t want to end up on the street, with a ruined
reputation and no chances of ever getting a job, I don’t want to lose this
apartment and have to move – I don’t want any of that, and I’m so scared that it’ll
happen-“
Lexa had thus far been bandaging up her hand, but was now done – the instant she
was, she pulled Clarke into her arms without a word, and Clarke let her; she
climbed into Lexa’s lap, wanting to be close to her, needing some way to hide the
tears which were pushing their way through. Lexa did not say a thing, only wrapped
her arms around Clarke and held her as Clarke let the tears fall and the sobs break
through. The anger between them was gone, and Lexa found she could not be mad at
the woman currently sobbing into her chest. No, all she wanted was to protect
Clarke.
“If it’ll make it any easier, I’ll fight them,” she murmured after some time. “I
don’t want you to be scared.”
Clarke swallowed. “But I am.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“We could lose everything.”
Lexa clenched her jaw and pushed Clarke’s chin upwards so that she could look at
her face. “We won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’ll fight them, and I’ll win.”

There was a confused mixture of emotions in Clarke’s eyes. “Because of me?”
Lexa nodded.
“No, Lexa, I don’t want that – I don’t want to be making you do this.”
“Clarke, you’re hurting. You’re crying, for god’s sakes, and I didn’t even realize
how terrified you were. I don’t want you feeling any of those things, and if
fighting my parents will fix that, then I will fucking fight my parents.”
Clarke laid her head back against Lexa’s chest and let out a shaky breath, another
set of tears wanting to fall. But this time, she did not fight them – no, she let
them come, let them fall, and cried quietly as Lexa held her.
After a while, her sobs ceased, but she made no effort to move away. She was
exhausted, and wasn’t even so sure whether her legs could carry her; Lexa’s arms
around her were tight and reassuring, keeping her in place and feeling whole, and
she never wanted to leave.
“I’m sorry,” Lexa whispered. “I didn’t know how much this affected you.”
Clarke sighed. “I didn’t tell you.”
“I should’ve known anyway.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. You were hurting and I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you.”
“You didn’t trust me.”
Clarke rose up to look at Lexa. “No, Lexa, it wasn’t that. I didn’t tell you
because I- I didn’t want to think about it. I tried to push it all away and out of
my head, pretend like everything was fine – but it wasn’t, it really wasn’t.”
Lexa sighed and rested her forehead against Clarke’s, her hand coming up to cup her
cheek. Her thumb brushed gently along the skin of Clarke’s cheek, and for a while,
she said nothing.
“Promise me you’ll tell me next time. Anything you’re feeling, don’t hide it.
Please.”
Clarke looked down, too overwhelmed to meet Lexa’s eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Please. I don’t want you bottling anything up.”
And then Clarke met Lexa’s eyes, and all she saw was understanding and acceptance.
“I promise.”
> hurt clarke is adorable and caring lexa even more so

> tomorrow will mark not only the 100th day i've had this ao3 account but also the
50th chapter of TMT
> i love it when things align like that
> anyway, don't y'all go thinking the drama's over - i told you it'd be a big
storm, and this isn't even close to what i have in store for you
50. Chapter 50
> chapter 50 holy shit how did i end up here

> i've been writing this for 46 days - 46 days of not just daily updates, but
occasional twice-a-day updates
> y'all best be appreciating the shit out of my efforts
Days passed, and the cut on Clarke’s hand faded away, and with it did fade the
anger they’d felt for one another – though the tension was still there, still
underlying and ready to be confronted once again, they were comfortable again.
Clarke felt safe now that she knew that Lexa understood what she felt, and felt
comfortable allowing herself to be upset over little things like updates about the
case and the occasional moments she got where she panicked about the possible
outcomes.
The case was long and cumbersome, and according to Indra it would be a couple of
months before it would even be processed to the point where they’d have to think
about it again. Of course there were some details which were required, like
financial statements and things like that, but overall the case required little
effort or thought from them.
Lexa returned to work, and Clarke started going around looking for a possible job;
even with the knowledge that Lexa’s salary could support them if necessary, she
found herself wanting to ensure that she’d be contributing as well if it came to
that. She’d been looking for a job for a few months now, but not very actively –
but now she was looking with aim, and was not set back by each rejection she
received.
Their anniversary was fast approaching, and she found herself desperately trying to
think of something to get Lexa – it had to be something meaningful, something
beautiful and thoughtful and perfect for Lexa, but she was yet to figure it out.
Three days before Valentine’s day, she sat Lexa down to talk.
“Okay, so, Valentine’s day is coming.”
Lexa smiled and nodded. “It is.”
“And our anniversary.”
“Yes.”
“And your birthday.”
“Yes.”
“That’s a lot of holidays in the span of a week.”
“I was thinking we could just merge Valentine’s and our anniversary, since I don’t
see any point in going all out on days just five days apart – do you?”
“We could do a Valentine’s breakfast? Indra’s giving us all the morning off.”
“That sounds nice," Clarke agreed. “Just a nice, comfortable morning date on
Valentine’s, and then we go all out on our anniversary. That’s reasonable, right?”
Lexa smirked. “So long as I get to take your clothes off on both days, I’ll be
happy.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “You’re very blunt, aren’t you?”
“Just voicing my expectations,” Lexa murmured as she leaned in for a kiss, “Because
it’d be a shame if we didn’t have sex on our anniversary. That’s basically an
unspoken rule of marriage, right?”
Clarke laughed and kissed her, her hand sliding around Lexa’s neck and bringing her
closer. “Sure, we’ll have sex. All the sex.”
“You make it sound so romantic.”
“I do,” Clarke grinned. But then her smile melted away, and she looked at Lexa with
a worried expression. “Shit. Valentine’s day is coming.”
Lexa was confused. “You just said that.”
“No, I mean – Raven, she’s going to be alone. On Valentine’s day.”
“That’s shit.”
“I know,” Clarke sighed. “Is Anya going to do anything, do you know?”
“Of course not.”
“I don’t know, she could-“
Lexa kissed her again, interrupting her train of thought. “I was just joke. Anya’s
got a plan.”
“She does?”
“I meant to ask you about it, actually.”
“How come?”
“What’s Raven’s favorite brand of beer?”
“Anya’s having you buying Raven beer for Valentine’s day?”
Lexa made a face. “What, is that such a bad idea?”
Clarke laughed. “No, it’s not. It’s sweet. But how does she not know?"
"According to her, Raven drinks 'whatever piss could possibly resemble beer and
appears to love it all equally as much'."
"That's very true. But I think I know a few of her favorites."
Lexa was quiet for awhile.
“You know, it's weird. Anya’s never had anyone on Valentine’s day. She’s not the
type for long-term relationships.”
“Neither is Raven.”
“They’re idiots in love.”
Clarke laughed again. “Yes, they are.”
“You know what we should do, once Anya comes back?”
“Double date?”
“Yes.”
“You do remember we’re supposed to double date with Octavia and Lincoln in two
weeks.”
“Yes, and I'm excited for that, but I want to see Raven and Anya interacting in a
romantic situation.”
“You nosy little shit,” Clarke chuckled.
“What? Anya’s usual relationships have just been about sex, and yet here I am,
being sent off to buy a Valentines day present for her girlfriend because she’s
halfway across the world, pining after her like some lovestruck idiot.”
“You forget that we used to be the lovestruck idiots.” Clarke reminded her. “God,
we must’ve been annoying.”
“We weren’t this infuriatingly oblivious, were we?”
Clarke shrugged. “Probably.”
“You sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
* * *
And so Valentines day rolled around.
Lexa dragged herself out of bed early to make Clarke blueberry pancakes – she crept
out of bed, not wanting to wake Clarke till breakfast was all set and ready, and
slipped downstairs into the kitchen. There, on the kitchen table, she found a
surprise from Clarke – there was a vase with a beautiful, huge bouquet of flowers
set in the middle of the table, and beside it was a heart-shaped box of chocolates
– all around the table there were little Valentines day cards, scattered around in
a seemingly unorganized way. Lexa chuckled when she read what they said – they were
the cheesy kind, the sort she’d seen around on the internet, with lines like ‘are
you a beaver cuz dam’ and ‘I may not go down in history but I’ll go down on you’.
She read them all, and laughed quietly, finding it adorable how Clarke had even
bothered to sign each card individually, not just with her name but with little
things like ‘your loving wife’ and ‘that hot blonde from the bar’ – the second one
was a running gag, invented by Raven and referring to the fact that they’d
literally met at a bar and married each other on the same day.
Clarke was the hot blonde from the bar. Lexa was the mysterious woman in the little
red dress.
Lexa couldn’t stop smiling as she gathered all the cards together and set them atop
the box of chocolates, after which she moved on into the kitchen to get started on
breakfast. She’d heard the shower turn on upstairs, and so was comfortable putting
on some music – soft piano music, mellow and happy, echoed through the apartment as
she made the pancakes and set the table for two, stopping momentarily to
contemplate putting a candle in between the two as a joke – but she’d decided
against it, because it would’ve been weird given the blaring sunlight coming
through just about every window in their apartment.
Clarke came down clad in just shorts and a t-shirt, smelling freshly of her jasmin-
scented soap, and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist whilst Lexa tried to focus
on flipping the pancakes. She kissed Lexa’s cheek, and smiled, and then finally
said: “Happy Valentines day, babe.”
Lexa hummed and leaned her head against Clarke’s as she flipped the pancake. “Happy
Valentines day.”
“Did you like your surprise?”
“Yes, I did. I thought we agreed not to go all out.”
“I didn’t. I just got you flowers and chocolates and printed out some cards.”
“They were funny, by the way.”
“Of course they were. I’ve got an excellent sense of humor.”
"Sure you do."
Clarke hummed and slipped away from Lexa, and went over to stand outside on the
balcony for just a moment – it was a little past eight in the morning, and Lexa
wasn’t due to go to work till twelve. Indra had given the office a half-day,
because she and her wife had a tradition of a long Valentines’ day brunch. In her
own words, ‘there’s nothing so important that it couldn’t be put off a few hours so
that we can all enjoy our loved ones’, and Clarke was so grateful for that. During
the week, Lexa did get very busy – she was usually out of the house by eight, and
rarely returned before five, leaving Clarke with far too much time on her hands.
She was actively trying to find something to occupy herself with, but it wasn’t
that easy.
“Breakfast’s ready!” Lexa called from inside. Clarke smiled to herself and walked
back inside, shutting the balcony door because it was still relatively cold out.
When she went over to sit down across from Lexa, she found that there was a freshly
brewed cup of her favorite coffee set beside her plate, along with a bouquet of
lilies and a little stuffed teddy bear with a heart in it’s little arms,
embroidered with the question ‘be my Valentine?’ She laughed gently when she saw
the bear, and took it into her hand, unable to resist the temptation to try and
mimic it’s adorable little smile. This in turn had Lexa giggling, and for a while,
they didn’t speak at all.
“You’re a romantic dork,” Clarke finally commented. “A teddy bear? Really?”
“What? It's cute.”
Clarke set the bear aside to pile a few pancakes onto her plate. “While that is
indeed very true, it doesn’t lessen the fact that it’s the dorkiest and cheesiest
Valentine’s day gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh? You’ve got some experience with Valentine's day gifts, then?” Lexa teased.
Clarke stuck her tongue out at her. “Don’t you go getting jealous. It’s not like I
married any of them.”
“Very true.”
“And I only got Valentine’s gifts in like, middle school. And high school.”
“Is this you subtly telling me Valentine’s day gifts are childish?”
“You did get me a stuffed bear, so…” Clarke pointed out. Lexa made an exaggerated
noise in offense, and Clarke laughed. “Shut up. I love it. And the flowers, they’re
gorgeous.”
“Not as gorgeous as you.”
“God, that’s cheesier than _any_ of the lines in the cards I gave you.”
“Shut up.”
Clarke leaned halfway across the table and smirked. “Make me.”
* * *
They ate breakfast with no hurry in the world, and it was absolutely delicious –
even so, what came after was infinitely more delicious and pleasant. Clarke led
Lexa back upstairs to their bedroom, and took off her sleep shorts and shirt to
reveal a brand new set of underwear that looked absolutely ravishing and had Lexa
weak in the knees at first sight.
“Fuck, Clarke,” she murmured as she pulled the blonde down onto the bed with her,
“To think I sat across from you for almost an hour and didn’t even know what you
were hiding…”
Clarke smirked and kissed her more deeply, her hand running up along Lexa’s stomach
to cup her breast. “It’s a good surprise, isn’t it?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Clarke hummed and ran a line of kisses down along Lexa’s jaw, and Lexa quivered
beneath her touch – Clarke was determined, confident as ever, her one hand cupping
her breast whilst the other made it’s way down along her stomach towards where Lexa
was burning it to be. But Clarke was in no hurry, not this morning, not at all. She
continued to tease and taunt Lexa with breathy kisses and lingering touches, slight
grazes of fingertips along the wetness pooling between her thighs but nothing more
than feather-like touches. When she had Lexa practically whimpering at even the
slightest touch, she finally indulged, and moved downwards to pull Lexa’s
sweatpants off and to place her mouth along her wife’s dripping sex. Lexa sighed
and leaned her head back, hands slowly curling around the sheets of the bed as
Clarke’s tongue made work of her most sensitive places to send waves of pleasure
running through her veins, coursing through her body and rendering her completely
pleased. She allowed herself to Clarke fully, and amidst her pleasure was
overwhelmed by love for the blonde whose shoulders her legs rested upon.
Her climax came along soft and gentle, and yet it engulfed her entirely – a warmth
enveloped her whole being, and she was so infinitely relaxed and pleasured that she
simply couldn’t comprehend it. But that only lasted a split second, because the
next second Lexa had Clarke in her lap, their lips pressed together as Lexa’s hand
slipped past the smooth silk of Clarke’s new underwear.
“I really like this,” she murmured, “This set. It’s beautiful.”
Clarke smiled, and let out a quiet sigh when Lexa’s two fingers slid into her. “I
bought it with you in mind.”
Lexa’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, her fingers sliding in
and out of Clarke slowly and surely. “If I could, I’d have you wear this every
day.”
Clarke shifted slightly and grinded her hips against Lexa’s fingers, her lips just
slightly parted as Lexa’s fingers curled inside her and grazed the spot which made
the growing warmth and pleasure increase infinitely. Lexa grinned and pressed her
thumb down on Clarke’s clit, surprising her and eliciting a quiet gasp – but soon
enough they’d settled into a rhythm, one in which Clarke rode Lexa’s fingers
slowly, with Lexa following her rhythm and adding to her pleasure with her lips
pressed wherever she could – her jaw, her lips, her neck, her breasts, wherever
there was skin, Lexa was sure to kiss. After a while, Clarke’s occasional whimpers
had grown steady, and Lexa grinned when she felt her growing closer to her climax.
To add to her pleasure, to help her go over the edge, she sucked at Clarke’s pulse
point, her tongue dancing on sensitive skin as not two, but three fingers steadily
fucked her. When she withdrew her lips to claim Clarke’s mouth once again, her eyes
caught sight of an angry red hickey on Clarke’s pale skin, and she was infinitely
proud of herself. She loved leaving marks on Clarke, little notes of her love and
of the fact that Clarke was hers and no one else’s.
She also knew that Clarke loved having said marks on her skin.
Her lips claimed Clarke’s, and her tongue slipped into Clarke’s mouth as Clarke’s
whimpers grew more frantic – and then there was a moan, and Clarke’s grip of Lexa’s
shoulders tightened, and her muscles tightened around Lexa’s fingers in continuous
pulses until they did no more. Clarke was spent, a happy smile plastered onto her
lips, and when Lexa laid her down onto the bed, she lazily wrapped her arms around
Lexa’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss.
“Told you there’d be sex,” she murmured. “All the sex.”
“All the sex?” Lexa asked, intending to tease Clarke just slightly. “That wasn’t so
much…”
Clarke kissed her again before replying. “You think we’re done?”
> they're cheesy dorky romantic idiots and i love them both so much
> it had been far too long since my last clexa smut so im glad i could work that in
> also dont worry, i haven't forgotten about ranya, tomorrow's chapter will be
accompanied with whatever their v-day consisted of (or the day after tomorrow, i've
got a 4hr easter mass tomorrow so i may just die and not update at all so be
prepared for that)
51. Chapter 51
**Summary for the Chapter:**
> this is just a ranya chapter so once again, if you're not a fan of ranya, no need
to read
> there won't be a clexa chapter today because i'll be stuck in church for the rest
of the day BUT tomorrow it'll be their anniversary and im working hard on making it
perfect
> but if you're in desperate need of a clexa fix, i updated the space AU too
> Ranya's valentines day isn't as cutesy, im afraid, but there's a little bit of
fluff and a little bit of sin ;)
Raven was woken around ten to the ring of the doorbell. She groaned, not wanting to
get up, not wanting to remember what day it was, but the doorbell rang a second
time, and she heard Clarke’s voice through the door.
“Get up, you asshole, it’s Valentine’s day and there’s a delivery for you.”
Raven grumbled as she climbed out of bed and padded across her apartment to the
door, yanking it open with an annoyed look on her face. “Don’t remind me what day
it is.”
Clarke offered her an apologetic smile. “Here. From Anya.”
She handed Raven a case of beer and a paper bag, onto which there was a note
written in Anya’s handwriting – **do not open till Valentines day (Raven I mean
it)**
Raven took the bag and looked at Clarke in confusion. “Uh…thanks?”
Clarke reached over and wrapped her arms around Raven for a careful hug. “I know
this sucks for you.”
“It does.”
“But she’ll be back in like two weeks.”
“I know,” Raven sighed. “I’ll be fine.”
“But you miss her.”
“Yeah.”
“Hang in there, okay? And don’t drink all the beers at once.”
Raven smirked. “Fine, Mom, I’ll leave one for tomorrow.”
“Raven-“
“Don’t worry, I have no intentions of drinking my sorrows away. I’ll do what every
other pining woman does and indulge in innocuous amounts of ice cream and
chocolate.”
Clarke laughed. “Fair enough. Lexa’ll be at work from about midday onwards, so if
you feel lonely or anything, feel free to come over. We could watch a movie or
something.”
“Ok. We’ll see, I hope Anya will have time to call.”
“She will, Raven. If she doesn’t call, I’ll go to Chad myself and kick her ass.”
“She’d kick your ass if you tried.”

“Then she better call.”
And with that, Clarke headed back to her apartment, where she was sure Lexa would
be more than ready for round two. Raven hadn’t had to ask about how her Valentines
day had gone – the hickeys on Clarke’s neck and the overall aura of sheer joy had
answered the question before it’d even popped into her mind.
“Damn lovebirds,” Raven grumbled as she headed to the couch. She wasn’t _really_
mad at Clarke, or particularly jealous – if anything, she was glad that Clarke and
Lexa had each other for Valentines day and that they were having a good time, but
the fact remained that Raven wasn’t having a good day.
She hadn’t really been having a good week, or two weeks to be honest. Without Anya
to pester and annoy and kiss, she felt lonely and bored and empty. For the first
time in her life, she hated that her bed was empty in the mornings, she hated that
she didn't have Anya to kiss her goodnight, she hated that she didn't have Anya
there - it just sucked so gloriously that she hated it all.
She was wearing Anya’s shirt, which still smelled faintly of her, comforting and
warm and just faintly sharp – the shirt was a little big for Raven, but that only
made her feel cute. She sat down onto the couch after having set the beers into the
fridge, and looked at the paper bag.
Raven was a little disappointed in herself for not getting Anya anything. But then
again, she hadn’t really thought about Valentines day until after Anya had left,
and by the time she’d remembered, it would’ve been too late to mail anything.
She opened the bag and found a few things inside – a small box of chocolates, a
little bottle of whiskey and a new set of underwear, fiery red with lace and made
of silk. Raven laughed gently when she saw the underwear, and took the pieces into
her hands gently – of course Anya would’ve gotten her something like this, after
continuously complaining about Raven’s tendency to use boxers and sports bras.
Raven did have nicer underwear, but she liked to wear it only on occasions. It was
a tasteful little surprise, after all, but clearly Anya thought she needed to do it
more often.
In all honestly, the fact that the bra fit Raven like a glove and wasn’t
uncomfortable at all was no surprise – Anya had an eye for detail, and Raven
actually found herself thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to wear it more often.
The panties, too, were soft and silky and comfortable, and made her ass look great;
Raven snapped a few pictures and sent them to Anya, though she wasn’t so sure when
she’d receive them given the barely-even-there internet connection of the camp.
She would’ve lounged about in just her underwear, but it was a little cold, and so
she pulled on a hoodie – Anya’s, of course – and some shorts before fixing herself
some breakfast. She poured the whiskey into her morning coffee, deciding she’d
stick to her plan of watching Netflix and eating junk food and getting a little
drunk in celebration of Valentine’s day, as she’d done every year before that.
This time, however, she actually had someone she wanted to spend the day with. And
of course that person couldn’t be there with her, Anya couldn’t be there for Raven
to treat to a date and sex and kisses and cuddles. No, she was alone, but this time
she cared that she was alone, and that hurt most of all.
She wanted Anya to be there with her.
She’d managed to get through three bottles of beer and about half a season of
Criminal Minds when her phone rang. Immediately shutting off the tv, she reached
over and grabbed the phone, knowing who it was before she even answered.
“Hey.”
“Happy Valentines day.”
Raven laughed, happy to hear Anya's voice. “Happy Valentines day.”
“Did you like my present?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, it wouldn’t have made it in time-“
“I got the pictures. I’d say that’s more than enough for a present for me,” Anya
chuckled. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“I look hot, no need to be romantic.”
“Fine, you look fucking hot.”
“There we go,” Raven grinned. “How’s everything there?”
“Hot. Boring. I’ve been vomited on three times today.”
“That’s less than the last time we spoke.”
“True, but it’s not nice.”
“That’s what you get for ditching me on Valentines day. Puke on your shoes.”
“More like puke down my shirt.”
“Oh, ew. No.”
Anya laughed on the other end, and the sound made Raven’s heart leap a little in
her chest. “So, what are your plans for today?”
Raven sighed. “Honestly? Drinking and Netflix.”
“That’s it?”
“What, you expect me to go on a date with someone?”
“No.”
“Because I could, very easily might I add…” Raven teased.
“Don’t you dare.” Anya growled.
“Don’t worry, you own my entire ass, Anya.”
“A great ass.”
“A great ass you could be touching right now if you weren’t on another continent,”
Raven sighed. “Fuck, Anya, it’s been two weeks and I need you.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t done _anything_ for yourself.”
“Of course I have, you idiot. Nothing wrong with a little daily self-love.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“It’s hot.”
“You’re weird.”
“Just think, Raven. Two and a half weeks, and I’ll be there, and then…”
Raven shuddered. “Then I’m going to fucking trap you in this apartment, and we’ll
have ourselves some fun.”
“Sounds like you’re pretty worked up.”
“Yes, I am. I need _you_ to get me off, you’ve fucked me over so well that I can’t
be satisfied just by myself. I’ve tried, and I can get off, but it’s not enough –
you’ve screwed me up.”
There was a moment of silence. “Really, now?”
“Yes, really.”
“You know, I don’t have to touch you to get you off…”
“What?”
“Lay back, Raven.”
The command in Anya’s voice sent a new set of shivers running down Raven’s spine,
and she obliged without a second thought.
“Now spread your legs.”
“Are you-“
“Shh, just do as I say.”
And Raven did.
“Now imagine me there. Close your eyes, and imagine me there, on you, my hands
holding yours down. My lips on yours…my tongue in your mouth.”
“Mmhm.”
“My thigh against you, you grinding just a little…”
Raven sighed.
“Touch yourself, Raven. Imagine it’s me.”
She was wet, thoroughly so, and a quiet moan left Raven’s lips out of sheer
arousal.
“Are you wet, Raven?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Wet for me?”

“Yes, Anya.”
“Let me guide you.”
“Mhm.”
And so Anya talked Raven through it, commanding her every move, her words dictating
what Raven’s hands and fingers did – after a while, Raven put the phone on her
shoulder and leaned back against the couch, one hand cupping her breast whilst the
other continued to fuck herself. Anya wasn’t letting her touch her clit, not yet –
no, all she was allowed to do in that moment was fuck herself, two fingers pumping
in an out as Anya’s voice told her to.
“Are you close?”
“Mhm.”
“Good girl. But not yet.”
Raven whimpered slightly and grinded harder against her own hand, her eyes closed
and Anya’s voice soft in her ear. She was so far in that it was almost as though
Anya were there for real, and when Anya’s voice finally gave her permission to
touch her clit, the orgasm that came after came quick and hard – Raven moaned, and
Anya grinned wildly on the other side, feeling infinitely pleased that she’d
successfully gotten Raven off. It took Raven a while to come to her senses, after
which she finally withdrew her hand and took the phone back up to her ear.
“Fucking hell, Anya.”
“That good?”
“I can’t believe I just did that.”
“What, you’ve never had phone sex before?”
“I’ve had sexy conversations – nothing like this.”
“Well, you were a very good girl about it. You could’ve easily just gotten yourself
off and ignored what I told you.”
“How can you be so sexy without even being here?”
Raven could practically hear the smirk from the other end. “I’m just that good.”
“You are,” Raven shuddered. “Also thanks for the beer, and the whiskey, totally
didn’t drink all of that-“
“That’s just sad.”
“Well I’m sad, you should know that – I’m sitting here, having downed a shot of
whiskey and a bottle of beer and I’ve got chocolate and ice cream and I’m actually
considering watching sappy romance movies because I’m lonely and pining – it’s just
plain sad, that’s what it is.”
Anya was quiet for a while. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”

“I wish you weren’t sad.”
“Well, I am. You’re in Africa and I’m stuck here.”
“I’ll be back soon, though.”
“Two weeks, Anya.”
“Two weeks.”
“You sound sad.”
“I might be.”
“Might?”
“What? What’d I do?”
Anya inhaled sharply. “You’ve worked your way into my life and now I find myself
wanting to cry because I miss you so much, and that’s never happened before and it
annoys me that sometimes I can’t go to sleep at night because you’re not here, and
I just – god, Raven, you’re annoying, but your absence is even more annoying.”
Raven was stunned by Anya’s words, rendered completely wordless, and her silence
actually worried Anya.
“Raven? You ok?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m- yeah.”
“You’re very quiet. I’m sorry I said that much, I just – I’m not dealing well with
this. Long distance fucking sucks.”
“It does. Sucks balls.”
“I wish I could just speed up time so I could just be there with you. I want to
hold you.”
“Hold me? Awfully romantic and sappy of you. I want you to fuck me, now.”
“Didn’t you just-“
“Anya, shut up. I’m about to get my period and I’m horny and you’re not here.”
“Not judging.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Yes, I am. You’re a little thirsty bitch.”
“I’m your little thirsty bitch.”
“That you are.”
They spoke for a good few hours until Anya finally had to go to sleep – by the time
they ended the call, it was almost midnight in Chad, and given her 7am wakeup call,
Anya was forced to at least try and get some sleep. Raven, too, decided to go to
bed – it was only 7pm, but she was tired, and saw no use in dragging the day out
any longer. She collapsed amidst the covers and crawled onto the side that Anya
usually slept on, trying to find some comfort in the knowledge that Anya would be
falling asleep too, in that same instant. She pulled one pillow underneath her head
and settled the other against her chest, and curled up around it, pulling it close
and cuddling it.
_God, I’m a pining mess,_ Raven grumbled to herself. She couldn’t deny that she
wasn’t trying to imagine the pillow as Anya, and failing greatly at it –
nevertheless, she found she couldn’t really sleep without it.
“Two weeks,” Raven muttered as she shut her eyes, “Two weeks, Anya, and then you’re
never going anywhere.”
In that same instant, only moments after Raven had fallen asleep, Anya murmured
those same words into her own pillow on the other side of the world – she was
wearing Raven’s hoodie despite it being reasonably warm in her room, because it
reminded her of Raven and comforted her. She always got a little homesick, but this
gig she felt so homesick that anything that was able to alleviate her discomfort,
she clung to. And Raven’s hoodie, the faint scent of her lingering to the soft
fabric, it made her feel at home, and so she slept in it.
“Two weeks.”
> my first time writing phone sin, not so sure how it turned out but it's there
> also these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, they're suck lovestruck
idiots
> once again, clexa will be back tomorrow for their GLORIOUS anniversary so be
excited for that
52. Chapter 52
> this chapter is more than twice as long as the previous chapters so do enjoy it's
fucking great
Lexa had a long work day the day before their anniversary – she’d left before
Clarke woke up, and had called her around six to tell her that she’d finish up late
and that she shouldn’t expect her for dinner.
“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Lexa had sighed. “I’ll be here really late, if I get all the
stuff finished up today then I can have the day off the day after tomorrow, too.”
Clarke had smiled at that. “I’ll be here when you come, all prepared with tea and
hugs and a back rub. You work too hard sometimes.”
“It’s so that I can sleep in after tomorrow.”
“Oh? You think we’ll have a fun night?”
Lexa laughed. “Oh, please. Don’t even suggest that we won’t.”
“Fine, fine. But you should probably get back to work. I think I’ll order a pizza –
you want me to save you a slice?”
“Yes, please.”
“Alright. See you whenever you come.”
“You’ll probably be asleep.”
“I’ll wait.”
“No, don’t.”
“I will, so shush. Love you.”
“Love you.”
Clarke cleaned up in her studio before changing into some clothes that weren’t
covered in paint, after which she headed downstairs and out of the door to Raven’s
apartment. When Raven opened the door, Clarke barged in without a word.
“We’re ordering pizza and you’re going to stop moping around for a little while,”
Clarke declared as she sat onto the kitchen counter. Raven walked over and Clarke
wasn’t surprised to find that she was a little quieter than usual – it’d been four
days since Anya had called, and Clarke was more than aware of Raven’s pain. “You
ok?”
Raven smiled. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“But not the best.”
“No.”
“Well, we can watch whatever you want, and order whatever you want. Lexa’s going to
be at work really late so I decided I’d come here and cheer you up a little.”
Raven smirked and opened the fridge to pull out two beers. “Just a few drinks for
you, though. You can’t be hungover on your anniversary.”
The pizza came a little bit later, and Clarke wasn’t surprised that Raven had
ordered far too much for just the two of them – nevertheless, they set themselves
up in front of the TV on Raven’s age-old couch, which Clarke found the most
comfortable of couches despite it’s questionable looks. It was green with the
fabric worn soft and pale in places, and there were a few tears which Raven had
stitched up with whatever string she’d found. It was plushy and big and
comfortable, and Clarke wasn’t at all surprised that Raven spent most of her free
time holed up in it’s corner.
“We’re watching Top Gear,” Raven decided, “Since you said we could watch whatever I
wanted.”
Clarke groaned. “Ah, fuck.”
“You did promise.”
“Yes, I did. But it’s boring.”
“So suffer, bitch.”
“Promise you won’t pour water on me if I fall asleep.”
“I won’t.”
It wasn’t water, but beer that Raven poured on Clarke, just a little onto her hand
when she did inevitably fall asleep in the middle of a 10-minute rant about some
specs about a brand new motor. Clarke in turn took revenge by throwing a pillow in
Raven’s face, and Raven laughed – and then she finally agreed to change the show
after the rant was over, and so the rest of the night they spent watching Criminal
Minds.
Around 11 Clarke saw Raven yawn, and decided it was time for her to go.
“Before I go, though,” she began, “Do you want to talk?”
Raven looked at her quizzically. “About what?”
Clarke pondered for a while whether she should ask, but ultimately decided to go
for it. “About you and Anya. How you obviously love her.”
Raven threw a pillow at Clarke. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious.”
“I-“ Raven sighed and laid her head back. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Ok, fine, I do. I love her.”
“And you haven’t told her?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“Whatever same reason you had to keep your feelings from Lexa all those weeks.”
“That was because I thought she didn’t care for me the same way. And I didn’t want
to ruin the friendship. But you’re already dating, and it’s obvious that Anya loves
you, so it's not the same reason.“
“I don’t know that she does.”
“Raven, don’t be stupid. Of course she does.” Clarke faltered a little before
speaking again. “Don’t tell Anya or Lexa that I said this, ok? You’re my best
friend and you deserve to know, but…”
“What, Clarke?” Raven asked, looking a little worried. “Please don’t say 'it's
nothing', you mentioned it and now you have to tell me.”
“Last week when Anya called Lexa, she cried.”
Raven’s eyes widened. “What?”
“She cried because she misses you, Raven. That’s someone who loves you. You can’t
say it isn’t.”
“She cried?”
“I didn’t even think she could, but Lexa said she did and, well…”
Raven buried her face in her hands. “Shit.”
“She loves you.”
“Okay, fine, I do – I fucking love her. It’s insane.”
“So tell her.”
“I can’t…I can’t tell her over the phone. I want to wait till she’s here.”
Clarke nodded. "I get that."
"It's just...god, fucking shit."
“But you’re okay? ‘Cause I know you’ve got that whole thing about love…”
“I’m not scared, if that’s what you mean. The fact that I’m _not_ scared scares
me. I…with Anya, it’s easy, you know?”
Clarke smiled. “I do. It’s the same with Lexa.”
“Before, I always had to try so hard…I don’t even know if what I thought was love
is even right, because shit, Anya’s just…it’s like breathing. It just happens
without me even thinking about it. And I’m not afraid. I trust her, Clarke.”
Clarke smiled. “That’s good. You’ll be fine.”
“She just better get her ass here as quick as she can. Otherwise I might die.”
“Trust me, Raven, she’ll probably run here when she lands.”
“A cab would be faster.”
Clarke laughed. “Well, you should go to bed.”
She’d made it to the door when she heard Raven sigh and say: “Thanks, Clarke. For
tonight.”
“Anytime, Raven.”
* * *
Clarke had only just shut the door behind herself when her phone rang. Thinking it
was Lexa, she smiled and put it up to her ear without checking the screen, and so
when a male voice spoke, she was thoroughly startled.
“Hello? Is this Clarke Griffin?”
“Uh, yes?”
“I’m calling you to talk about Alexandria.”
Clarke just about nearly chucked the phone at the wall. “You’re Titus, aren’t you?”
“That’s Mr. Woods to you.”
“Titus,” Clarke repeated. “And it’s not Alexandria, it’s Lexa.”
“Nevertheless, I wish to speak to you personally.”

“In person? No way.”
“I simply want to bring to light that the case is progressing very well, and that
you will only have yourself to blame when Alexandria does eventually realize her
mistake and comes home to her family.”
“She won’t do that,” Clarke growled.
“She will, once she’s faced with the choice of returning home or homelessness.”
“No, she won’t.”
“Would you want her to live on the streets?”
“We won’t live on the streets, you asshole. I know you rich people don’t quite
understand how jobs work, but most people go to work everyday and make money and
pay rent and live like that. We don’t _need_ the properties to live.”
“Your reputation isn’t too good, though, is it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Only ever worked in diners, minimum wage…I must say, it’s quite disappointing to
see this. I personally would never hire someone with a CV like this.”
“What…you have my CV? What the fuck are you playing at?”
“Simply checking your work history,” the man on the other end said, “Nothing more
than that. Just for future reference.”
Clarke shuddered when she realized what he was implying. “Look, I know about what
her parents do to people. That’s fucking illegal.”
“I never said anything.”
“You’re implying that they’ll ruin my reputation for life.”
“Perhaps.”
And then the line went dead. Clarke cried out in frustration and tossed her phone
aside onto the couch, anger and frustration and fear brewing up within her. She was
so angry at he man who’d called her, Lexa’s uncle – she was even more furious at
Lexa’s parents for making him do this, for them pestering her just hours before the
clock would strike midnight and it’d be their anniversary. They for sure knew the
date and the time, and that fact infuriated Clarke even more.
But above all else, she was now worried out of her mind. He’d said that the case
was progressing well, and she now feared for her own reputation – she didn’t want
to end up on the street, nobody did, nor did she want to lose their home and their
life – no, she didn’t want any of that, and so when Lexa came home not half an hour
later, she entered to find Clarke crying quietly on the couch. The instant she saw
her, she dropped everything else and rushed over.
“Clarke?”
Clarke moved a little to the side and Lexa sat beside her, and without another
word, wrapped an arm around the blonde, pulling her closer. “What happened?”
“Your uncle called,” Clarke muttered.
Lexa tensed up. “He what!?”
“He called me, and said…” Clarke sighed. “He said that the case is going well. And
then sort of threatened me with losing my reputation and everything. And he said…he
said that you’d realize your mistake and go back to your family, and I know it’s
not true and that you’d never do it but still, I just…I’m worried again, Lexa, I’m
so sorry but I don’t know what’s happening and it’s so much and I just…”
Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back and sighed heavily. “There hasn’t been any progress with
the case. He lied. And they can’t ruin your reputation – I won’t let them. And even
if they do, we’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, Clarke.” She took a deep breath and
brought Clarke’s face up to her own. “And I wouldn’t ever leave you. Not for them,
not for anything. You have to know that.”
“I do know that.” Clarke muttered, and Lexa kissed her forehead gently.
“I’m going to kill him,” Lexa grumbled then, “I’m going to kill all of them.
Attacking me is one thing, but you? No, that’s too far.”
“But you can’t do anything.”
“I know. Doesn’t mean I’m not imagining their untimely and painful deaths in my
head.”
Clarke let out a half-hearted laugh. “That’s only fair.”
“Are you okay?”
“Honestly?” Clarke sighed. “No. I’m worried again.” Another kiss was pressed to
Clarke’s forehead, and she sighed once again. “And I’m sorry.”
Lexa looked at Clarke in confusion. “Sorry?”
“I’m not in a very good mood for our anniversary.”
Lexa kissed Clarke then, and when she opened her eyes, she glanced at the clock on
the wall and smiled. “It’s our anniversary now, Clarke.”
“It is?”
“It’s a minute past midnight.”
Clarke kissed Lexa again. “I’m sorry that I’m not in a celebrating mood.”
“It’s alright, Clarke. There’s no 'right' mood for today. And it’ll be fine, I’m
sure that once we get out of here for a while, you’ll forget. Or at least stop
worrying as much.”
Clarke smiled then. “I will.”
“But now we need to get to bed.”
“I know.”
“How tired are you?”
“Very?”
“You want a piggyback ride?”
Clarke laughed. “Yes, please.”
And so they stumbled their way upstairs and basically fell into bed, and Lexa was
too lazy to find pajamas for herself so she just took off her work clothes and
slept in her underwear. Not that Clarke complained, of course. Despite the nagging
feeling at the back of her mind, she as able to settle comfortably enough and fall
asleep rather quickly.
Lexa, on the other hand, stayed awake for a while longer, watching Clarke’s chest
rise and fall as she slept. Though she hadn’t shown it, she was furious out of her
mind – had her parents been there in that instant, she wouldn’t have hesitated to
hit them, to hurt them for attacking Clarke. Even in her sleep, looking peaceful as
one could be, Lexa could see a slight hint of worry in Clarke’s face, and felt
sorry for her. Clarke didn’t deserve any of this – neither of them did, nobody did
really, but Clarke most of all.
Before she finally fell asleep, Lexa made herself a silent promise to make their
anniversary the best it could possibly be, to treat Clarke and to make her forget
about the call and the case. She’d make Clarke happy, as happy as one could be,
because if Clarke wasn’t happy, Lexa was sure she couldn’t be happy either.
* * *
The next morning they slept in till around ten, which was when Lexa’s alarm went
off. Clarke was the first to wake – of course – and she reached over Lexa’s still
sleeping form to shut the annoying noise off. She didn’t move away from Lexa,
instead moving up closer till she could meet Lexa’s lips with her own. It was a
gentle touch, just barely there, but Lexa woke up to it nevertheless, and slid an
arm up to the back of Clarke’s neck to bring her closer.
“Morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick with drowsiness. “Happy
anniversary.”
Clarke smiled. “Happy anniversary.”
“One year.”
“Mhm.”
“But not quite one year.”
Another kiss was pressed to Lexa’s lips before Clarke spoke again. “Let’s just say
it’s one year. It’ll get confusing if we try and fit two anniversaries instead of
one.”
“True.”
“Besides, this one fits very well. Valentines day and your birthday, and today –
February’s a very eventful month.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You wanna get up?”

Lexa smirked, and slid a hand down along Clarke’s stomach. “Do you?”
* * *
After a good hour of kisses and moans and whimpers and sickly sweet lovemaking, the
two of them finally got out of bed and got dressed. For breakfast, they had what
remained of Clarke’s pizza – Clarke didn’t forget to remind Lexa of the first time
she’d introduced her to the glory of cold pizza for breakfast, and Lexa of course
laughed.
They’d booked themselves a room at a b&b upstate, and so after they’d eaten
breakfast, they grabbed their bags and headed downstairs. Raven had generously
given them their car on loan for the two days they’d be gone, and so they set off
onto the road with excitement in their hearts.
“You know, this is the first real road trip we’ve gone on since Christmas, I
think.” Clarke said. She was driving with Lexa sitting shotgun, a fresh cup of
coffee within her hand’s reach.
“Does Christmas count, though?” Lexa asked. “Since it wasn’t really a road trip.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Road trips are kind of a thing with us, aren’t they?”
Clarke laughed. “Oh, yes. Definitely.”
“I’ve been thinking about getting a car.”
“You mentioned that.”
Lexa shuffled a little in her seat and raised her feet onto the dashboard. “I’m not
blocking anything, am I?”
“But yeah, about the car…”
“You want one.”
“But it’s not smart in New York. Public transportation's just fine.”
“Yeah, a car's not very useful here.”
“But…”
“But?”
“The San Francisco thing.”
Clarke glanced at Lexa in surprise. “It’s a thing now?”
“Yeah, Indra told me last night. The job's mine if I want it.”
Clarke turned her eyes back to the road and let out a breath. “Wow…”
“What do you think?” Lexa asked carefully, thinking Clarke’s silence to mean she
wasn’t too hyped about the prospect. Her worries, however, dissipated the instant
Clarke smiled and said:
“About moving to San Francisco? Hell yeah!”
And so the next two hours of their drive was spent thinking and talking about the
move. Clarke had always wanted to live in California for a while, and had loved San
Francisco when they’d stopped by briefly during their road trip. She’d liked the
fog and the general atmosphere, and the winding hills and the bridge and just about
everything – it was very different from New York, but that did not bother her. Now,
thinking she could live there with Lexa, she found herself excited, even though the
move would mean being across the country from not only her friends but her mother.
Lexa had no roots in New York other than perhaps Anya, but Anya spent half the time
out of the country and so Lexa didn’t really have anything tying her to New York
other than Clarke. She showed Clarke some pictures of houses she’d looked at
already in her free time, and told her about the job she’d have. They decided there
and then that they’d get a dog when they moved, and so along while was spent
thinking over what breed they’d get.
When they arrived at the b&b, it was a little late for lunch, but they’d eaten
takeout halfway through the drive so they decided they’d stick it out till
dinnertime. Their room was absolutely beautiful, large with a big bed in the
middle, the sheets of soft satin and the mattress just about the softest thing
either of them had seen in their lives. The instant they got to the room, Clarke
rushed over and jumped onto it, leaving Lexa standing in the doorway looking and
laughing at her idiotically adorable wife.
“You’re a child,” she chuckled as she set her bag down into a chair. “But I love
you anyway.”
She walked over and promptly climbed on top of Clarke, and Clarke laughed as she
leaned in for a kiss, but Lexa kissed her anyway.
“This is nice, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Nice and quiet.”
Clarke’s hands tugged at the hem of Lexa’s shirt, and Lexa looked at her curiously.
Clarke made a face then, and pulled the shirt off of her without question. “What?
I’m just recreating whatever we did during our wedding day.”
“So today’s just going to be sex?” Lexa asked as Clarke’s lips found their way to
her neck.
“What, like that’s a bad thing?”
Lexa chuckled and pushed Clarke back down onto the bed. “No, it definitely is not.”
* * *
Getting ready for dinner took a long while. Lexa did both her and Clarke’s hair,
curling her own whilst styling Clarke’s hair into a bun at the nape of her neck
with some free curls framing her face. Clarke then returned the favor by doing
Lexa’s eyeliner with her perfectly steady hand, after which they both got into
dresses which the other had picked – Clarke had, of course, chosen the red dress,
whilst Lexa had chosen the dark blue strapless dress. It was elegant and pretty and
showed off Clarke’s back and shoulders in an enticing and beautiful manner.
“You look beautiful,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist
and pulled her in for a kiss. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
“You do too.”
“But…” Lexa began, and Clarke looked at her in confusion. “Your neck’s awfully
bare.”
“Is that a problem?”
Lexa dipped her head down and pressed a kiss onto Clarke’s neck, making sure not to
touch where Clarke had expertly hidden a hickey beneath a layer of her best
concealer. “No, it’s not. But I do have a present for you.”
She reached behind Clarke and pulled out a long, slender box from her bag. “Happy
anniversary.”
Clarke knew it was jewelry the instant she saw it, but was still surprised when she
saw the beautifully crafted silver necklace – the pendant itself wrapped loosely
around a sapphire, in a very elegant and minimalistic fashion. There was a pair of
earrings, too, and Clarke thought they were absolutely beautiful.
“Holy shit, Lexa, you must’ve spent a fortune.”
Lexa took the necklace from the box and put it around Clarke’s neck, finding the
color complemented Clarke’s eyes perfectly. “Perhaps.”
“I mean it’s beautiful, gorgeous – but wow.”
Lexa kissed Clarke again. “Anything for you.”
“You do realize I’m now going to be forever paranoid about losing it, right?”
“I do. I wish you didn’t, but you worry. It’s cute.”
Clarke put the earrings on, and wasn’t even surprised that they matched the dress
she was wearing almost perfectly. Even the fact that she had her hair up fit – the
hanging earrings were shown off perfectly when there wasn’t any hair in the way.
“You planned my outfit based on your present, didn’t you?”
Lexa smirked. “Maybe.”
“Do you want your gift now?”
“Sure.”
Clarke went over to her bag and retrieved a small box, and walked back to Lexa with
it held behind her back. “Ok. Close your eyes.”
Lexa did, and heard some shuffling till she heard Clarke ask her to open her eyes
again. When she did, she found Clarke kneeling before her, awkwardly so because the
dress didn’t quite allow her to kneel fully – but that fact was lost on Lexa,
because in her hands she held a ring box, in which there was a golden engagement
ring.
“I know we’re already married,” Clarke explained, “But you never got a proper
proposal. So here goes…”
There was a slight pause, after which Clarke cleared her throat and smiled.
“I know we’ve only technically known each other a little under five months, but
they’ve been the best and most eventful five months of my life. And I just love you
so much it’s fucking ridiculous, you’re so beautiful inside and out and we just fit
in a way that I can’t quite figure out. I didn’t think I’d ever marry anyone, or
share my life like I do with you, Lexa, but marrying you was the best drunken
mistake I’ve ever done in my life. I want you to stay in my life forever, and I
know we’re already married, but I felt like you deserved a romantic and cheesy
proposal, and I’m rambling now so- will you share your life with me, Lexa? Till the
eventual end of our days?“
Lexa laughed and pulled Clarke up, instantly engulfing her lips with her own as she
threw her hands around her neck. “Yes, Clarke,” she whispered amidst kisses, “Of
course I will.”
Clarke chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say ‘I do’.”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “I do.”
“Gimme your hand.”
Lexa did, and Clarke paused slightly as she was putting the ring onto her finger.
“Do you want it on this finger, or-“
“Of course I want it on this finger. That’s where an engagement ring goes, right?”
“I don’t know, some people wear it on their right hand-“
“Just put the damn ring on, Clarke.”
Clarke did, and Lexa raised her hand to look at the ring properly. It was golden
and sleek, with a single pearl in the middle amidst the pale gold. Though it was
simple, it was obvious that it hadn't been cheap - the gold itself was the finest
kind, and Lexa was sure Clarke had indulged a significant amount of money into
buying the ring.
“I picked the pearl one cause it was cute,” Clarke explained. “Everyone’s got a
diamond ring. I wanted something special for you.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“So you like it?”
Lexa laughed. “Of course I do.”
“Good, ‘cause otherwise these earrings might’ve gone to waste.” Clarke smirked as
she pulled out a pair of pearl earrings. Lexa smiled and took them, and switched
the earrings she’d already put on for the pearl ones.
“And now, wife-“ Clarke began, holding out her hand. “You want to go to dinner with
me?”
Lexa took her hand, and together they went downstairs to the restaurant. Their
table was by the window, overlooking the lake which shone in the garden lights in a
magical way. There were lanterns hung in the gardens, and after dinner they went
there for a brief walk, arms hooked and hands stuffed into pockets as they wandered
along the lake’s shore.
“Isn’t it funny how we almost got each other the exact same present?” Clarke asked.
“It is,” Lexa agreed, “But then again, what else do you get for an anniversary?”
“True.”
Lexa hummed and let out a breath, which billowed upwards in the cold night air. She
was just slightly tipsy from the wine and dessert wine she’d had, and everything
was warm and fuzzy and comfortable. She was happy.
“Today was nice, wasn’t it?”
Clarke smiled and rested her head on Lexa’s shoulder. “Today was perfect. I’ve
never had an anniversary in a relationship before, let alone in marriage.”
Lexa nodded. “Neither have I.”
“You know Raven used to call me a romantic disaster?”
“I didn’t, but I can imagine why.”
“Now she just calls me a disastrous romantic.”
Lexa laughed. “You are a disastrous romantic.”
“You’re definitely more that than I am.”
“Remind me again who proposed to who?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
“I like that you’re romantic,” Lexa said quietly. “It’s adorable. And I know you
think it’s all cheesy, and I do too, but I really do like stuff like that.”
“I know. That’s why I like doing romantic stuff, because you absolutely love it.”
“You’re kind of an idiot, you know that?”
“What’d I do now?”
“You’re trying to act all cool like you don’t love romantic things. I know you,
Clarke. You love it when I buy you flowers and treat you to pretty things and twirl
you around, and all that other ‘romantic’ stuff.”
Clarke stopped them and wrapped an arm around Lexa’s waist, drawing her closer to
her as she grinned and said: “Your romanticism is contagious.” And then she kissed
Lexa for a long while, and when she drew away, she noticed two elderly men looking
at them with a curious expression of them. They stood a few feet away from them,
and were clearly on a walk as well – Clarke thought at first that they disapproved
of what they were doing, but soon saw the gentle smiles on their faces, and then
noticed that they were holding hands as well.
“Um, excuse me,” one of the men said carefully.
“Yes?” Clarke asked. Lexa turned to face them too, and for a moment feared they’d
receive some rude comment.
“I don’t mean to intrude, but you two look so adorable, and we were wondering…this
must be some special day to you, yes?”
Clarke smiled and nodded. “It’s our anniversary.”
“Oh, that’s so cute, Earl, isn’t it?” The other man exclaimed to who Clarke assumed
was his husband.
“Anyway, we were wondering if you wanted us to take a picture for you…if you’d want
of course. You just seem like you’d want to remember this moment.”
Lexa couldn’t help but be touched by this elderly gay couple before her, and the
fact that they were being so kind to them. “That is so sweet of you.”
Clarke had already pulled out her phone, and spent a while explaining to Earl how
to use the camera before she walked over to Lexa. She slid an arm around Lexa’s
waist and turned to face the camera, and the first picture was just of the two of
them smiling. But then, for the second picture, Lexa slid a hand around Clarke’s
neck and drew her in for a chaste kiss, and that was the picture which they
eventually printed out and hung up in their apartment. A picture of them, standing
in a garden full of lanterns, kissing like it was their very first time, looking
beautiful and happy and like no one else mattered in the world.
They thanked Earl and his husband, Matthew, and headed off again, this time back
towards their room.
“That was so sweet,” Clarke commented. “So nice of them.”
Lexa nodded. “I like the picture, too. It’s beautiful.”
They came to the door of their room, and Clarke opened the door for Lexa, who
entered to find a path of rose petals scattered from the door to the bed, which was
covered with them. Candles were the only light in the room – led lights, really,
since the maid who Clarke had arranged to set the room up while they were at dinner
had left ages ago and leaving fires burning unattended was of course a bad idea.
But nevertheless, there were countless of lights scattered about the room, and Lexa
then turned to look at Clarke with the most surprised and overjoyed look on her
face.
“This is amazing,” Lexa whispered. Clarke grinned and leaned in for a kiss, but was
surprised when she felt a hot tear run down along Lexa’s cheek.
“What-“
Lexa shook her head and smiled. “I’m just happy, that’s all. And touched.”
“See? You’re definitely the more romantic out of us two.”
Lexa kissed her again, this time with more demand. “You’re the one who set this
up.”
Clarke went to argue, but found she had no use for words – she kicked the door shut
behind her, and before long she’d led Lexa to the bed and laid her down onto it,
her red dress matching perfectly with the red petals upon which she lay.
“Hold on,” she said quickly, “Let me take a picture. You look so beautiful.”
And after that picture, she and Lexa spent the night indulging in one another,
recreating their wedding day in the most romantic way possible – whereas the day
that had taken place a year ago had been filled with fucking, this night was not
for that – no, they made love, sweet and slow and beautiful, because they were in
no rush. They had nowhere to be except each other’s arms, and that was where they
awoke the next morning, feeling more in love with each other than ever before.
> THEY'RE JUST SO CUTE AND FLUFFY AND ROMANTIC IDIOTS I LOVE THEM I MIGHT'VE CRIED
A LITTLE
> wasn't this just the sweetest anniversary, though
> im celebrating the zimbio win because in all honesty this fandom is glorious and
you all deserve a high five and a cookie for being part of this glory
53. Chapter 53
> woop woop their anniversary happened but now get ready for LEXAS BDAY YEAH
The next morning was slow and relaxed as ever. Lexa had taken the liberty to order
breakfast to their room at eleven, but they were still awake when there was a knock
on the door. Nevertheless, Clarke crawled out of bed, wrapping a robe around
herself before answering. When she turned around, she couldn’t help but smile at
the sight before her – Lexa was still fast asleep, laying in bed with the sheets
barely covering her ass, her entire back bare and beautiful and enticing as ever.
Clarke wasn’t surprised that she was so spent, given the duration that their fun
had lasted the night before. And so she carefully climbed back into bed with Lexa,
on top of her, and slowly started to massage her, her hands kneading muscles Clarke
simply knew would be sore. Slowly as ever, Lexa was drawn into awareness, and
Clarke knew this because of the little moans of appreciation that began leaving
Lexa’s lips at steady intervals. Not stopping with her hands, Clarke leaned in and
pressed a kiss onto Lexa’s cheek, drawing a happy smile onto Lexa’s lips.
“Good morning.”
Lexa hummed and moved slightly, reaching her hands forwards to stretch. Clarke
always thought she looked a little like a cat when she did her morning stretches,
and the little groans that left her lips were always as precious.
“Morning,” Lexa sighed. “Did the food come already?”
“Yeah.”
“We should get up, then.”
Clarke kneaded her palms right beneath Lexa’s shoulder blades, and for a moment,
Lexa was rendered incapable of coherent thought.
“Maybe,” Clarke mused, “But you don’t seem ready to get up.”
“Hard to get up with you sitting on my back.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
“How about we have sex as an appetizer?”
“God, yes.”
Clarke smiled and rose up slightly to allow Lexa to flip over to her back, and
settled down to straddle her hips. She shed the robe off of herself, and the quiet
appreciative sigh that left Lexa’s lips was more than precious. She was so cute,
still drowsy and sleepy, her hair all messed up, her lips slightly parted as she
looked up at her. When Clarke leaned down for a kiss, it was interrupted by a wide
yawn on Lexa’s part – Clarke couldn’t help but smile, and Lexa was a little annoyed
by the apparent slyness in her expression. But that sly smile was easily wiped away
when Lexa kissed her, her hand moving up from where it’d rested on Clarke’s knee to
touch her sex, finding it already wet and more than ready.
“Oh.”
Clarke sighed and bucked her hips slightly. “Don’t act like you’re surprised.”
“I’m not. I’m pleased.” Lexa murmured as she slid two fingers into Clarke. “Very
pleased.”
Lexa enjoyed having Clarke like this, on top of her, practically riding her fingers
– she enjoyed seeing Clarke fully, being able to watch her face and enjoy the view
of her naked body, and the fact that Clarke had the control was also enticing for
Lexa. Clarke grinded and rolled her hips, taking in Lexa’s fingers and letting out
quiet whimpers whilst Lexa’s other hand began to toy with her clit. She leaned her
hands on Lexa’s chest, and as she neared her climax her lips parted slightly to
voice quiet whimpers and moans. It was still early, and she was still a little
sleepy, but still Lexa was more than determined to please her wife in the best way
possible.
“Ah, fuck, Lexa-“
That was Lexa’s cue to keep doing whatever she was doing – she did nothing but keep
her pace, and so a moment later Clarke came crashing down, practically collapsing
atop Lexa as the orgasm washed over her. Lexa grinned and laid her onto her back,
and began littering soft kisses all along Clarke’s skin whilst her wife lay there,
entirely spent and breathing heavily in the aftermath of her climax. There were
still a few odd rose petals in their bed, and one was stuck right above Clarke’s
hip bone. Lexa picked it up and pressed a kiss where it’d been just a moment ago,
and Clarke smiled despite phasing between being awake and asleep. She ran her hand
through Lexa’s hair and sat up, and Lexa did too, and yet another kiss was shared
between them.
“We should eat,” Clarke said. “Breakfast will get cold.”
Lexa got up and went over to retrieve some clothes from her bag. She didn’t bother
with pants, only pulling on some underwear and a shirt before sitting down in front
of the little table set up beside the window. The breakfast she’d ordered had a
little bit of everything – there was yogurt and granola and fresh fruits, and some
pastries as well as two waffles, one for each. There was a fresh pot of coffee for
Clarke and a cup of tea for herself, and Lexa couldn’t help but smile when she saw
Clarke sigh happily at the sight.
They ate and talked and had some fun, and by the time it came for them to leave,
they were thoroughly happy. Clarke had put the necklace back into it’s box along
with the earrings, but Lexa had kept her ring on – she had no intentions of ever
taking it off, really. She hadn’t noticed it the night before, but the engagement
ring also had an inscription, which read:
_I’m not leaving._
It was sweet and cute and the fact that it was the most memorable thing Clarke had
said after hearing about her parents just made it even more important to Lexa.
The drive back home was smooth and comfortable, and Clarke only then thought to
turn her phone back on. The instant she did, she received a text from Raven, and
had Lexa read it to her.
“Raven says there’s a surprise for us at our apartment.”
Clarke groaned. “Oh, god. Ask her if it’s lethal.”
Lexa did as asked, and a moment later received a response.
“No, she says we’ll die but in a good way. Now I’m worried.”
“If she’s organized a surprise party, I swear to god-“
“I don’t think so. She added that ‘it’s beautiful and genius and you’ll love me
forever for it’.”
“Ok now we have to get home as soon as possible.”
When they did, it took them a while to find Raven’s surprise. Clarke had expected
Raven to have stocked their bedroom full of toys and other dirty things, and so
they rushed up there – but there was nothing there, nor was there anything in
Clarke’s studio.
It was Lexa who went back downstairs first and found the surprise. She froze in
place and let out a surprised cry, and Clarke hurried back down, and when she saw
what Lexa was looking out, let out a gasp.
There, above their dinner table on the wall, was a collage of pictures, taken by
Raven, of the two of them. They were arranged in a circle of sorts, with a copy of
their marriage certificate framed in the center. As they went closer, they saw
pictures they didn’t even recall being taken. There was the photo of the first
night they’d slept together in the same bed, from that time Raven had locked Clarke
in Lexa’s room. Many prints of Clarke's sketches of Lexa were scattered around the
circle, and Clarke found herself wondering how many of those pictures Raven had
kept. There were many photos from the road trip as well. One was of Clarke and Lexa
laughing happily right after Clarke had smeared some ice cream onto Lexa’s nose
somewhere in Oregon, judging by the pine trees behind them. Another was a picture
of them walking together towards a beach, and there were many of just the two of
them sitting together on benches, obviously taken without them noticing. There were
pictures of them sleeping together in the back seat, some of which featured Raven’s
face in the corner. Some were closeups of just their intertwined hands, or of
either one of them - the picture Clarke had taken of Lexa standing next to the
giant redwood was there, as was a picture of Clarke doing a handstand on Venice
Beach, both photos set beside one another and still somehow matching.
The picture that Raven had taken of them in front of the Christmas tree, of Clarke
dipping Lexa downwards for a romantic, sappy kiss, was set in a place of honor.
There were more, too, that Clarke and Lexa kissing, like the picture from Carson
City of them kissing on the steps of the courthouse.
“It’s beautiful,” Clarke sighed. “Raven outdid herself.”

“When did she even take these all?”
“I don’t know, but they’re great.”
“There’s one where we’re naked, look.”
Clarke laughed. There was indeed one picture of the two of them spooning in their
bed, naked because they’d been sick and sweaty and uncomfortable – but you could
barely see any skin, because there were covers over them, and so it wasn’t so
weird. A lot of the pictures featured captions, too, things like ‘that time these
two were lovesick idiots’ or ‘here you go making us all look bad’ or ‘you married
dumbasses are too cute’. They were sweet, and Clarke even noticed that Raven had
written down dates onto the pictures.
“This must’ve taken her ages.” Lexa pointed out. “And it’s not even customary to
give anniversary presents.”
“Raven would do something like this. And I think she’s had a little more time on
her hands than usual.”
“Some of these are signed with Anya’s handwriting, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“They must’ve teamed up.”
“They’re great.”
“I really like the collage. Although I think we need to start adding to it.”
“You’re thinking the picture from last night?”
Clarke nodded. “That one should go right in the middle. Beneath that certificate.”
“How’d she even get it?”
“She probably asked Indra.”
“You're probably right.”
It was then that they noticed the little note on the table. Clarke picked it up and
began reading it aloud.
“To my bestest friend and my best-friend-in law,
I hope you like this. I tried really hard, so appreciate it. Sorry for being so
stalker-y, I’ll try to stop but you two are just too cute. I know it’s a little
weird for me to be giving you something on your anniversary but I had so much
material and Anya thought it was a good idea so I did it.
There’s also some champagne and leftover Chinese in the fridge. Figured you guys
might be hungry. If not, feel free to bring me the food.
Enjoy yourselves, I’ll be by tomorrow for Lexa’s birthday party.
Kisses,
The Reyes Wonder”
“Oh my god.” Clarke said after she’d read the note. “She’s turned into a sappy
mess.”
Lexa laughed. “That’s true.”
“Anya’s wrecked her completely.”
“Or maybe she’s just being very nice.”
“This is so sweet though,” Clarke exclaimed as she pulled out her phone. “I’m going
to text her.”
**Clarke (17:01)**
Holy fucking shit, Reyes, you overdid yourself.
**Raven (17:02)**
I know. I’m p great, aren’t i?
**Clarke (17:04)**
Your gift’s almost better than mine was, so screw you.
**Raven (17:05)**
Love you too. How’s the food?
**Clarke (17:05)**
Orgasmic. Sorry but there won’t be any left for you.
**Raven (17:06)**
Figured as much. Have fun, see you tomorrow. What time should I come?
**Clarke (17:07)**
Anytime you want.
**Raven (17:07)**
Clarke I’m not about to barge in on your raucous birthday sex. What time is it safe
to come to make sure I don’t see you come?
**Clarke (17:07)**
One. See you then.
* * *
The next morning it was Lexa’s birthday. It was a beautifully sunny Saturday
morning, and Clarke let Lexa sleep in as long as she could, and woke her up with
kisses for a fresh cup of tea and a pile of presents. She even sang to her, even
though her voice didn’t quite carry and it was crappy at best – but even so, Lexa
claimed it was the best she’d ever heard, and they laughed.
Clarke had gotten Lexa a variety of little presents. There were some luxury
candles, a new book, a bouquet of flowers and a necklace to match the ring and
earrings she’d given her for her birthday. The necklace featured a few strings of
pearls hanging from the middle, where a small circular pendant was expertly crafted
around the beginnings of the few chains that held the pearls. It was delicate and
detailed, and Lexa thought it was absolutely beautiful.
“Oh, and let’s not forget this.”
Clarke pulled out a birthday hat and put it onto Lexa’s head, and Lexa almost took
it off – but Clarke wouldn’t let her, not until she’d taken a picture.
“For the collage,” she said.
“No way, that’s not going on our wall.”
“Yes it is.”
“It’s embarrassing!”
“When my birthday comes, we’ll take a picture like this of me and then we’ll both
be equally as embarrassed.”
Lexa set aside the tray of breakfast foods, which consisted of everything that one
didn’t have to cook – fruits, yogurt and granola, and bagels and tea – and pulled
Clarke closer. “How about you give me my real present?”
“Let me move the tray so we don’t spill it, ok?”
* * *
Raven showed up a little bit past one with a present and a case of beer. She
insisted on giving Lexa two hugs, one from her and one from Anya, and then gave
Clarke a hug for good measure – she was in an excellent mood because Anya had
called that morning, and was on top of the world.
“Open your present,” she insisted. “I worked really hard on it.”
It was a set of two shirts, one for Clarke with a text on the back reading ‘if
lost, return to Lexa’ and another for Lexa reading ‘I’m Lexa’. There was also a set
of candles, because by this point just about everyone in their circle of friends
knew about Lexa’s mild obsession with candles. Raven had also gotten Lexa a small
book titled ‘sex tips for lesbians’ which Lexa quickly hid away, intending to maybe
look into it without Clarke knowing.
After all, you’re never too old to learn something new.
“You guys should put the shirts on, I know this is your birthday but I went into a
shop and they had a deal on shirts like this so I just _had_ to.”
“Of course you did.”
“And Anya says she’ll give you your present when she gets back, apparently she
needs to buy some part to it but she’ll call you in a bit.”
“Okay.”
A while later came Lincoln and Octavia, bearing gifts and innocuous amounts of
takeout – no one had really been in the mood to cook, but when Murphy and Bellamy
came along, they came fully equipped with an insane amount of food. Being a chef,
Murphy had of course made a few dishes ‘just from scratch’, which were naturally
delicious as ever. Bellamy, on the other hand, had spent a great deal of time in
his bakery working on the masterpiece that was Lexa’s cake – it had three tiers,
all different flavors, the bottom being dark chocolate with white chocolate
filling, the middle being simply French vanilla whilst the top layer was lemon cake
with merengue filling. It was beautifully crafted and the fact that they’d somehow
managed to maneuver it halfway across the city to the apartment was practically a
miracle on itself.
They all had a fun afternoon filled with card games and moderate amounts of alcohol
and a great deal of moaning about the delicious food. There may have been instances
where the rest of the group let Lexa win because she was absolutely awful at poker,
but Lexa didn’t notice – she was just having fun, as were they all, and it was a
comfortable day altogether. When evening rolled around and their guests had left,
Clarke took the time to treat Lexa in all ways possible, from a gloriously executed
strip tease to a good few hours of sex – today was all about Lexa, and though
Clarke couldn’t make her cum as many times as she had years, she did strive for a
great number.
It ended up being five times that Lexa came that night, and by the end she was just
barely awake, smiling happily at Clarke who was resting her head on her stomach.
Clarke could feel Lexa quivering every now and then beneath her, the aftershocks of
her pleasure still coursing through her veins, and was infinitely proud of herself
for managing to please her so.
“You know,” she murmured. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
Clarke hummed. “I’m glad.”
“I’ve never really celebrated my birthdays before.”
“Well you better get used to it. Mom’s bringing you a gift, by the way, the next
time she can get off of work for more than twelve hours at a time. She refused to
tell me what it was.”
“We’ll see.”
“It’s probably a book.”
“She’s got good taste in books.”
“She’s got a boring taste.”
“You say my taste is boring, too.”
“It is. That’s why you and mom seem to get along so well, I think.”
“Or maybe it’s just because I’m perfect.”
Clarke laughed, her breath tickling the bare skin of Lexa’s stomach. “That’s true.”
“Are you going to sleep down there?”
Clarke rested her head more comfortably against her stomach and wrapped an arm
around Lexa’s thigh. “Yes. It’s comfortable.”
“You’re literally sleeping in between my legs.”

“Yes I am. Your tummy’s soft.”
Lexa laughed gently and moved just slightly to pull a pillow beneath her head.
“Fine. But I think I’m going to sleep now.”
“Happy birthday, Lexa.”
Lexa smiled, but said nothing.
_Happy indeed._
> can i just say that Raven is the absolute greatest? like honestly
> also 'for the collage' is totally going to become Clexa's own little 'do it for
the vine' phrase
> i can just see them saying it to their kids: 'mom i dont want to wear this hat'
'no Aden do it for the collage'
54. Chapter 54
> things take a turn just a fair warning
“So what you’re telling me is that Raven’s in a committed, loving relationship?”
Clarke laughed and nodded. “Committed, yes. They haven’t quite gotten to the ‘I
love you’ confessions. Yet.”
Octavia shook her head and took a sip from her glass. “I still can’t believe it.
Can’t believe you, either.”
“What?”
“You’re married, Clarke. A year ago you were swearing you’d never marry anyone, and
yet…”
“Don’t forget, she was already married a year ago,” Lincoln pointed out. “More
wine, anyone?”
Lexa shook her head. “We still need to survive our way home.”
“You could just call a cab.”
“I kinda want to walk.” Lexa suggested. Clarke, however, turned to look at her and
shook her head.
“Lexa, we’re not walking at this time of night. No way.”
“Fine.”
“So wait- when’s Anya coming back? We have to do a double date with them, don’t we
Linc?”
Lincoln made a face at Octavia calling him Linc, but shrugged. “Sure, why not.
Raven’s fun.”
“And Anya-?”
“I’ve only met her briefly. Can’t say either or, really.”
“Fair enough.”
“We’ve called dibs, though.” Clarke said. “Lexa wants to see Anya and Raven
interacting in a ‘romantic situation’, isn’t that what you called it?”
Lexa nodded. “Yeah. I just have to see it with my own eyes, you know?”
“They’re ridiculous.” Octavia chuckled. “Raven’s an idiot. But Anya seems more than
capable of keeping her in line.”
“I think it’s the other way around, actually,” Lexa said. “It seems that Raven’s
managed to get on top of Anya in more ways than one.”
“Oh Jesus.”
Lexa just smirked, and Clarke elbowed her gently. “Let’s not talk too much about
Raven. She’d murder us if she knew we were talking about her.”
“But she’s in _love_ , Clarke! With a real living person!” Octavia exclaimed. “I
can’t believe it. I’ve been so busy so we haven’t been able to really hang out, but
from the few things she’s said about her, it’s obvious that she’s smitten. And now
that she’s not here, it’s like she’s missing a part of herself. Which, by the way –
when’s Anya coming back? You still haven’t answered my question.”
“In a week.”
“So not so long for Raven, then.”
“Yeah, no, she’s been jumping around happily about the fact that she’s going to
have sex in exactly seven days and two hours, or something. She’s very happy about
it.”
Lincoln laughed. “Of course she is.”
“Oh wait, you guys’s anniversary is coming up in like a few weeks, isn’t it?”
Octavia nodded. “Yep.”
“Are you guys doing anything special?”
“We’re going to London for a little trip,” Octavia smiled.
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some meetings with a few breweries that I want to order stuff from,
but otherwise it’ll be a complete getaway.” Lincoln grinned. “By the way, I still
find it strange that you two got married before we did.”
“It is strange.”
“If you think about it, my bachelorette party was also your bachelorette party,”
Octavia pointed out. “Only you got married during said party, but still...”
Lexa laughed. “Sorry I crashed your party, then.”

“More like Clarke ran away from the party. Eloped, actually.”
“Why you gotta say that like it’s a bad thing?”
After a while, Lexa and Clarke said their goodbyes, and got into the cab that took
them home. They’d had a nice long dinner date with Octavia and Lincoln, and the
food had been amazing. The company had been great too, and Clarke was glad to have
been able to spend time with Octavia. She’d been very busy in the past months after
getting a promotion, but was now settling down a little more and would have more
time for friends and family.
It was very late when they got home – way past midnight, and so they crawled into
bed as soon as they could. Lexa knocked out the instant her head hit the pillow,
and Clarke went the same way soon after.
* * *
Meanwhile in the apartment next door, Raven had just woken to her alarm. Anya had
promised to call her once she woke in the morning, and now, at 2am in New York, it
was 7am in Chad. She crawled over to the edge of her bed to pull up her laptop and
turned it on, and spent a few minutes flipping mindlessly through some random pages
until her Skype pinged up. A smile spread to her lips as she answered the call and
Anya’s face showed up on the screen, pixelated and a little slow but still there.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Anya yawned. “Good morning.”
“It’s 2am here.”
“Technically morning.”
“Right.”
“How was your day?”
“Tiring. Sinclair had me stay overtime because Atom’s AWOL – he did show up though,
four hours late. Something about getting stuck on Long Island with his grandma.”
“You poor thing. Did you hear back from the job that you applied to?”
“Anya, it’s been three days. So no, I haven’t.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. They’d be idiots to not take a genius like you.”
“A genius idiot.”
“That may be true, but you’re still a genius.”
They chatted on for a while, during which Anya got ready for her day – Raven sighed
quietly when she saw Anya take off her shirt, and Anya smirked at the camera.
“Enjoying the show?”

Anya came back to the computer and sat back in front of it, wearing nothing
whatsoever. “How about now?”
“Anya, I’m contemplating buying a plane ticket and hauling my ass over there.
Stop.”
“What? They’re just boobs.”
“Boobs that I’d gladly bury my face in. And your neck – god, Anya, cover up before
I die.”
Anya laughed, but got into her sports bra and scrubs nevertheless. As she proceeded
to tie her hair up and pin the few stray hairs away from her face, she explained to
Raven about the twins she’d delivered the day before.
“...and then one of the babies was screaming and the other one wasn’t even
breathing, and I was the only one there, with two kids in my hands – I just shoved
one into the mother’s arms and focused with the littler one, and thank god he did
start breathing after a while. Poor thing had some mucus stuck in his throat but I
managed to get that out easily enough.”
“So basically you saved a life.”
“I save lives everyday, Raven.”
“You’re a superhero.”
“I-“
But then Anya was interrupted by a loud sound, which rattled the entire ground and
caused the camera to shift. Raven could’ve sworn it was an explosion, and when the
sound repeated again, she knew it was – she’d had her fair share of explosives
studies, and would've known the sound of a pipe bomb almost anywhere. And then the
next thing she knew there was the distinct sound of gunshots, and shouting, and she
saw that Anya had gone deadly pale.
There was some shouting again, this time closer, and a gun shot, and Anya darted to
her feet.
“Raven, I gotta go, I-“
The screen went blank before Anya got to finish her sentence. Raven was left there,
gaping at the blank screen. She didn’t even know what had happened, not for a very
long while – but then, out of nowhere, it hit her. There’d been explosions. And
gunshots. And shouting.
And now Anya was gone.
"Fuck fuck fuck, no, fuck-"
She slammed the call button again, but there was no connection. She tried calling
Anya’s phone, but there was only a ‘this number is no longer in service’ message to
answer her.
She called again. No answer.
She tried calling on Skype again. No answer.
She waited ten minutes, just pacing around the room, and called again with her
phone. No answer.
She waited half an hour, still pacing but now also feeling like she’d faint but
unable to stop, and then called.
No answer.
Panic rose up in her throat like bile, and for a moment Raven thought she couldn’t
even breathe – she felt like someone had reached into her chest and clenched their
fist around her heart, not pulling it out, just leaving it there, constricting her
every breath and pulse and feeling as heavy as though the world were set upon her
heart. The room spun, and she had to sit herself down, feeling like every single
drop of energy had drained out of her body all at once. Even sitting down, the room
still spun, and she shut her eyes furiously in an attempt to steady herself.
Her eyes stung.
Before she even knew it, tears had welled up in her eyes, and she darted up from
the bed to pace around, trying to calm herself. But the images that rose up into
her mind only made matters worse.
Anya, lying on the floor, bleeding. Anya, a gun held to her head, begging for
faceless assailants to spare her life. Anya, shot, blood oozing from the wound as
she collapses to the ground.
Anya, dead.
And then a sob shattered it’s way through her chest, and she crumpled against the
wall, unable to even think – no, all she saw was the terrified look in Anya’s eye,
all she heard were gunshots and explosions and Anya’s words – _I gotta go, Raven._
Anya was in trouble, possibly hurt, and Raven couldn’t even see her. Couldn’t even
call her. She didn’t even know what was happening. She didn’t even know if she was
alive.
By some miracle, she managed to stumble to her feet, and although tears clouded her
vision, managed to walk out of her room, out of the apartment, and to Clarke’s
door. She felt crushed, and needed someone, anyone, to tell her it wasn’t true. She
needed Clarke to tell her that she’d just had a bad dream – she needed Clarke to
reassure her, to tell her that she was wrong, to say that Anya wasn’t _dead_.
She needed the nagging thoughts in her head to be just that. Thoughts. The images
in her head had to be just images, and not reality - no, if they were reality,
Raven wouldn't have known what to do. She didn't want to think about them, but they
were all she could see wherever she looked. She couldn't get away from the fear in
her heart and in her mind.
She rang the doorbell once, and waited. And then she rang again, and waited.
Clarke awoke to the third ring. She groaned in her sleep, thinking it was her
phone, but when the doorbell rang again, she realized it wasn’t.
“I’ll get it,” she mumbled as she shoved Lexa off of her chest and climbed out of
bed. Lexa grumbled something in response and pulled the covers over her head, and
Clarke would’ve gladly ignored the door were it not for the fact that she knew it
could only be one person.
And she couldn’t ever ignore Raven.

She went down and opened the door, and the instant she saw Raven her heart broke.
Raven was leaning on the door frame, tears streaking her cheeks, and she looked so
broken and tiny that Clarke didn’t even know what to say.
“Raven, what-“
But the next thing Clarke knew, Raven had burst into tears and crumpled down, and
Clarke just barely caught her as she fell to her knees. Clarke wrapped an arm
around Raven’s waist and pulled her back up, and somehow managed to drag her
inside, each sob from Raven's lips hurting her more than she ever knew it could.
Raven was weak and small, shattered to pieces, and Clarke had no idea what could’ve
happened to make her like this.
She'd never seen Raven this broken in her life, and it terrified her to the very
core of her being.
She sat Raven down onto the couch, and without a word, pulled her in for a tight
hug. Raven rested her head on Clarke’s shoulder and cried, her attempts at stifling
the sobs neither fruitful nor very strong.
“Raven, what’s wrong?” Clarke kept repeating, but each time that Raven tried to
give her an answer, she choked and cried again. She couldn’t look at Clarke, no –
all she could bear to do was rest her head on her shoulder and sob.
Finally, after a long while of waiting, Clarke was surprised by a few moments of
silence, followed by a whisper.
“Anya…she- god, Clarke, I was on Skype with her and there were gunshots and
explosions and it went blank now I can’t reach her and I think she might be hurt
or…or…”
Clarke froze. “What?”
But Raven wasn’t able to speak any further. She choked on her words and trembled,
and Clarke sighed and rested back, allowed Raven her time, but with her other hand
she reached for her phone. Carefully so as to not alarm Raven, she opened the News
app and scrolled through the most recent news. The first headline she read made her
blood turn to ice in her veins.
**“ _ISIS attacks Doctors Without Borders-camp in Chad – 1 dead, 4 injured”_**
Clarke didn’t notice that Raven was looking at her phone. No, that fact only became
evident after Raven had tensed up so much that Clarke noticed, and when she looked
at Raven’s face, all she saw was pure horror.
“She’s…she can’t be?” Raven whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes again. “She
can’t be…”
Clarke pushed Raven’s head against her shoulder and shushed her. “No, she’s fine.
She’s gotta be fine.”
Raven clung to her shirt, unable to even think properly. “But it said there was one
dead-”
Her words were followed by a whimper, and she began crying again. Clarke pulled her
even closer, her heart aching and hurting for her friend, but also now pained with
worry – she liked Anya, and found herself now worried for her safety. She worried
for Anya not only because she was nice, but because she meant so much to not one
but two important people in her life. She was Raven’s girlfriend and Lexa’s best
friend.
_Lexa._
Clarke didn’t even realize that she’d forgotten about Lexa until she thought of
her, and tensed up at the thought of Lexa finding out. She didn’t even want to
think about having to tell her. Lexa had suffered enough, and the thought of Anya
being just hurt or even gone - no, neither Raven or Lexa could handle it, Clarke
knew that much, and the fear in her heart grew tenfold when she realized just how
serious the situation was.
She prayed Lexa wouldn’t wake up, but of course, Lexa was soon roused by the fact
that Clarke was still gone and it was cold. And then she heard sobs downstairs, and
thought it was Clarke, and ran to the living room as fast as she could, only to
find Clarke holding Raven, who was an absolute sobbing mess.
“What happened?” Lexa asked. “Is-“
Clarke looked at Lexa. “Sit down.”
“What?”
“Lexa, come here. Sit down.”
Lexa came over slowly, and sat down beside Clarke, who wrapped her free arm around
Lexa’s waist and pulled her close. She then leaned in and quietly told her what
Raven had told her and what she knew – that there’d been an attack on the camp and
that for the time being, all they knew that one had died and four were injured, and
that there’d been no word from Anya. Lexa had let out a cry after the first few
words, and by the end Clarke had two sobbing messes leaning on either shoulder.
Lexa was more in shock, staring at the carpet with her head resting on Clarke’s
shoulder, unable to even comprehend what was happening. Raven, on the other hand,
was still crying quietly, the tears falling amidst mutters of ‘it can’t be real’
and ‘she has to be fine’. Clarke tried her best to reassure her, to tell her that
Anya was fine, but it felt like she was lying – she didn’t know if Anya was fine.
None of them did. For all they knew, Anya could have very well been dead in that
instant. And when that sunk in to Lexa’s mind, she curled up against Clarke and let
out a shaky breath, and a moment later there were tears.
It was dark in the apartment, and Clarke had no idea how much time had passed until
she saw the outside world grow lighter. Raven had shown up around two, and it was
now almost five in the morning. Clarke had dozed off at random times, and Lexa had
fallen asleep about an hour before.
Raven, too, was asleep, but she’d only just knocked out – even after the tears had
dried up, she’d been miserable and quiet, unable to let go of Clarke’s arm, not
wanting to lose that contact that made her feel that much less alone. She’d cried
till she literally could no more, but that had done nothing to alleviate the aching
in her heart – she felt like she couldn’t breathe, not until she knew what had
happened to Anya. Whether for better or worse, she wanted to know.
She had to
know.
55. Chapter 55
> holy shit you guys really reacted to the last chapter
> here you go, two hours early but i can't keep you waiting too long
Once Clarke was certain that Raven was fast asleep, she wriggled herself away from
the two sleeping brunettes – she laid Lexa down on one side, and Raven to another,
and then rushed off with the phone. She was surprised at how composed she was –
obviously she wasn’t as attached to Anya as Lexa or Raven, but she had grown to
care for her, and did feel the constant nagging of nerves and disgust in her gut
that told her that she was afraid. She, too, hadn't been able to keep the tears at
bay, not when two of the most important people in her life were both sobbing in her
arms. Nevertheless, she forced herself to function enough to slip into the hallway
and pull up her mom’s number, despite it being so early.
Miraculously enough, her mother answered not seconds later, and Clarke let out a
sigh of relief.
“Oh thank god,” she said quickly. “Mom, I need your help.”
“What is it Clarke? You sound awful. What’s wrong?”
Clarke gave her mother a quick rundown of what had happened, after which Abby let
out a long sigh during which Clarke knew she was rubbing her temples. She always
did that when she was stressed.
“I don’t know what to say, Clarke. Is…is Raven ok? And Lexa?”
“No, they’re not. Raven, she’s….I’ve never seen her like this, it's horrible.”
“What do you need?”
“I need to get in touch with anyone from the camp. We just have to know _something_
, anything. Can you arrange that?”
“I can try.”
“And hurry, please. Raven’s asleep now, but I know she’ll wake up soon and if she
starts crying again, I’m probably going to cry too – she’s so broken, Mom, I don’t
know what to do. I don’t even know what to say, I can’t tell her Anya’s fine
because what if she’s not- she's afraid Anya's dead, because she saw a news article
and apparently there's one dead and Raven won't stop thinking about it, and I
understand why she can't stop but she's literally tearing herself to pieces over
it-“
“Thus far, we don’t know anything. So just let her sleep as long as possible, and
I’ll try my hardest to get in touch with someone. I'll forward them directly to
your number, ok?”
Clarke slid down along the wall until she sat on the floor, and set her phone atop
her knee before resting her head back against the wall and shutting her eyes. She
had a headache, she was tired, but that didn’t matter. No, nothing else mattered
now than the phone on her knee and the call she was expecting. She could bear to go
back inside – she didn’t want to see Raven and Lexa, not now, because even in their
sleep Clarke could see their tear-stricken faces and
She didn’t know how long she waited. It was probably hours, judging by how sunny
it’d gotten outside by the time the phone did actually ring. Clarke had dozed off,
head resting against the wall as she slept, and so when the phone rang, she darted
awake, casting the phone to the ground. It took her a few seconds to regain
herself, after which she grabbed the phone as quick as she could.
“Hello?”
Clarke gasped when she heard Anya’s voice. “Anya!?”
“Clarke?”
“Holy shit, Anya- oh my god, are you okay!? What- no, nevermind, first tell me
you’re alive and fine and not dying.”
“I’m all of…that. I’m fine.”
Anya sounded like she’d gone to hell and back. Her voice was raspy and quiet, weak
even, and Clarke groaned as she got up to her feet. “Wait a second, I’m giving the
phone to Raven.”
She hurried to the door and practically ran inside, and didn’t even stop before she
was at the couch and shaking Raven awake. The brunette whimpered and tried to push
Clarke away, but Clarke nudged her again.
“Raven, it’s Anya. Wake up.”
Upon hearing Anya’s name, Raven’s eyes shot open, and the next second she’d grabbed
the phone from Clarke’s hand and raised it to her ear.
“Raven?”
Raven heard Anya’s voice and that was all it took for her to break down again. She
turned to her side to hide her face from Clarke, and bit her lip as tears pushed
their way through, determined not to cry again. Clarke moved over to nudge Lexa
awake, and quietly pulled her away and upstairs, where she gave her the good news.
Lexa cried out happily and broke down in relief as well, and understood entirely
why Clarke had moved her away from the couch. Raven needed some privacy.
Anya waited a while before speaking again. “Raven, talk to me.”
Raven took a deep breath and tried to regain herself, but she was practically
shaking with sheer relief from just hearing Anya’s voice. “I-are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Raven.”
“You’re not hurt?”
There was a slight pause. “No, I’m not.”
“You paused.” Raven said quietly. “You’re hurt. Don't lie.”
“A little scrape, that’s all. I’m not dying.”
And then, suddenly, Raven withdrew a sharp breath. “I thought you were fucking
dead, Anya! I- I thought you were hurt or dead or something, and it’s been hours-
what the fuck happened!?”
Her voice shook as she said the words, but she was now both pissed and relieved and
still reeling from the fear and hurt she’d felt for all those hours – no, she was a
complete mess, and Anya understood entirely. She could practically hear the tears
that Raven was probably wiping away, and didn’t need to try very hard to be able to
imagine how she looked in that instant.
Anya was trembling, too. There had been hours where all she had been able to think
about was the fact that Raven was worried – she’d known that Raven was crying, had
just _known_ it in her gut, and the fact that none of the phones had worked had
left her unable to reach Raven for far too long, that fact had made her so furious
she’d cried just from anger.
“The…I don’t know really who it was, the press is saying it was ISIS but here
they’re saying they were just rebels…anyway, they attacked the camp. They didn’t
get far, though – one guard died and some people outside were wounded, but they did
manage to blow up our communications tower pretty well. I’ve been trying to find a
way to reach you for hours.”
Raven let out a shaky breath – she was clinging to Anya’s voice, on each word and
syllable that it carried, because it was proof that Anya was fine, that Anya was
alive, and that she wasn’t dying or dead. The phone she held in her hand as though
she feared someone would try and take it from her, and she was trembling just
slightly. She felt nauseous and faint and like the room was spinning, and yet she
remained there, curled up on Clarke’s couch, just listening to Anya’s voice and
trying her hardest not to cry.
“Raven, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry it took this long – they evacuated us from the
camp immediately and I didn’t have time to grab my phone or anything, and now we’re
in N’Djamena and they finally gave us some access to phones. You should’ve seen it,
I practically punched a guy to get here first, but I’m so sorry…I don’t even know
what it’s been like for you. I’m just…god, Raven, I’m so sorry.”
Raven swallowed hard before speaking. “I thought you were dead.”
Her voice was small and weak, more a whimper than words, and carried all of the
sorrow and hurt and worry she’d felt in the past hours. She would’ve cried, but she
had cried so much she no longer could – tears were no longer abundant in her eyes,
and her body felt like one more sob would break it all.
“I’m sorry-”
“I couldn’t stop thinking, Anya – no, I couldn’t stop imagining you hurt, you
bleeding, you dying…Anya, I swear to god, if you stay there a second longer, I’m
going to come there myself, kick your ass, and then drag your-“
“I’m boarding a plane in less than an hour. They’re evacuating some of the staff,
myself included.”
Raven stumbled over the whole rant she’d been preparing to give and was shocked
into silence. “Wait, what?”
Anya smiled on the other end. “I’m coming home, Raven.”
Of all the things Raven had expected to hear, those three words were not among
them. No, not at all.
“You’re…what?”
“I’m coming home.”
“Oh..oh my god.”
There was a long while of silence as Raven fought to remain even somewhat sane
amidst the mess of emotions in her head. “You’re coming home?”
Despite all her efforts, her voice broke when she said that - a new set of tears
welled up in her eyes, and she cursed herself for not even being able to speak
normally in that moment.
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Raven inhaled sharply and shook her head to clear her mind. “Oh my god, Anya, I
swear to god I’m going to kill you.”
“Why?”
“You fucking scared the shit out of me! And now you tell me you’re coming home a
week early! Do you _want_ me to have a heart attack!?”
“Please don’t have a heart attack," Anya said quietly. Raven winced slightly and
lowered her voice again before speaking - she wanted to yell at Anya, but also
didn't, not when she could practically feel the hurt from just the tone of her
voice.
“Anya…” Raven mumbled. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Go to sleep. You sound tired.”
“That might be because I’ve been crying all night,”
The wince that Raven heard right afterwards made her heart break. “I…I’m so sorry,
Raven,” Anya said quietly. "I'm so sorry."
Raven shook her head, sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Just get your stupid ass
here, okay?”
“I will.”
“And don’t you dare die on the way.”
“I won’t. I’ll try and call you from Paris, we’ve got a four-hour layover before
the flight to New York.”
There was a slight pause. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”
“You should.”
“I don’t want to hang up.”
“Raven, I promise you, I’m fine.”
“You sound like you’ve been crying.”
“That’s because I have.”
Raven didn’t even bother to comment on the fact that Anya had so readily admitted
to crying. “Then you’re not fine.”
“I’ll be fine when I’m there with you. But I have to get on a plane first.”
“Don’t go.”
Anya sighed. “Raven…”
“Just…can you just talk? Till if fall asleep?”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Tell me about some surgery, anything. I don’t care. Just talk.”
Anya sighed, and Raven could’ve sworn she heard the smile tugging at her lips.
“Alright.”
She talked about some ten-hour open-heart surgery that she’d assisted two days
before, and Raven didn’t pay much attention to the words – no, she just listened to
Anya’s voice, and let it lull her into a state of calm and serenity until she was
comfortably asleep. Anya listened carefully to her steady breathing for a minute or
so before quietly hanging up, and then grabbed her bag and rushed off towards the
gate.
* * *
Clarke had sat upstairs with Lexa for what had felt like ages, whilst Lexa had
tried to process everything that had happened – all her fear about Anya being hurt
or gone had dissipated in one instant, and the residual effects of that took a long
while to fade away. She’d cried, she’d laughed, and then cried again, and Clarke
had cried a little bit too, mostly from happiness because Anya was fine and that
way, she knew that both Lexa and Raven would be fine as well.
After a while, Lexa had fallen asleep again. Clarke watched over her for a while,
her hand gently stroking her hair, before she left Lexa in the bed and crept
downstairs to go check on Raven. She’d heard some happy cries, and then some sobs,
but it had been quiet for a long while. She wasn’t surprised to find Raven curled
up on the couch, the phone held to her ear, fast asleep with a slight smile on her
face. Clarke smiled too, and gently took the phone from Raven’s hand before lifting
her head up to slip a pillow beneath it. She fetched a blanket and draped it over
Raven, and her hand lingered on her cheek for the slightest of moments before she
got up to head back upstairs.
She was at the foot of the stairs when she heard Raven shift, and then heard a
quiet mumble.
“Thanks, Clarke.”
Clarke smiled again. “Just sleep. You’ve had a rough day.”
Raven hummed, half asleep, and pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Anya’s
comin’…" she mumbled, "...tomorrow. She’s coming home…”
A warmth spread through Clarke’s chest when she heard that. “That’s amazing, Raven.
But sleep now.”
“Mhm…”
Clarke went back upstairs and climbed into bed with Lexa. She woke her with a kiss
to her cheek and a slight nudge, and in the darkness she saw the confusion was
ever-present in her wife’s eyes.
“What?” Lexa mumbled. “Is something wrong-“
“No, everything’s fine. Anya’s coming back tomorrow.”
“She is?”
“Yeah. She is.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I know.”
“Does Raven know?”
“She told me.”
“Ah.”
“You should sleep.”
“You woke me up.”
Clarke chuckled and nuzzled her face in Lexa’s neck. “Sleep. Everything’s fine.
Anya’s fine, and Raven’s asleep, and she smiled. All’s well.”
Lexa sighed and threw an arm around Clarke’s waist. “It’s been an eventful few
days.”
“Yes, it has.”
“It’s been an eventful few months, really.”
“Yes, it has.”
“Are our lives always going to be this messy?”
“God, I hope not,” Clarke groaned. “You know, Mom’s always got this saying – life
may be messy, but wait till you get kids. Then it will literally and figuratively
be messy.”
“That’s a weird saying.”
“Yeah.”
“But kids?”
“Huh?”
“You’d want kids?”
“I dunno. I guess? Not yet, though.”
“Yeah. Not yet.”

“Would you?”
“What?”
“Want kids?”
“I would. But not yet, and definitely not until our lives aren’t as…messy.”
“Things will settle,” Clarke decided. “Look at how today went. All it took was that
one phone call and everything’s right again.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve found your faith again.”
“I never lost it, it just got mixed up with all the messiness our lives are at the
moment.”
Lexa laughed, her breath warm against Clarke’s shoulder. “Now shut up, I want to
sleep.”
“Fine, fine. Good night.”
“Good night.”
* * *
The instant Anya got on the plane, she slumped down into her seat, her exhaustion
finally catching up with her. Only half the seats were occupied, and so once they’d
taken off, she moved over to a row that was entirely empty and sat in the far
corner. She rested her head against the little table and let out a long,
exasperated sigh. She was exhausted and had the worst headache of her life, and her
eyes were raw and dry from all the tears she’d shed – she’d cried in frustration
more than once, and had been feeling nauseous and nervous and scared all day. The
bandage on her arm reminded her of just how bad things could’ve been – she’d been
lucky to just have a bullet graze her arm, and that it had been so shallow. The
rest of her team was fine, too, aside from that one guard who’d died – Anya
couldn’t remember his name, only that he’d had blonde hair and blue eyes like
Clarke had. He’d died a quick death, that much she’d heard, and she was glad for
it. A long, painful death was something no one deserved.
It hadn’t really hit her, the realization, not until she’d heard Raven’s voice. The
utter desperation, the _pain_ that had been so evident in her tone, it’d suddenly
made Anya realize that she really could have died. She could have been seriously
hurt, or dead, and Raven – Raven would’ve been left alone, and her last words to
her would’ve been ‘I gotta go’.
She could’ve died. She’d always known the risks, but it was one thing knowing and
another being actually at risk. And now, she didn’t even know how she’d made it
through the day without breaking down, because in that instant, she felt so weak
and small that she couldn’t help the quiet tears that slipped down her cheeks.
Anya moved her head slightly, and winced when she laid pressure atop the wound on
her arm. It wasn’t such a bad cut; a bullet had barely grazed her arm, tearing a
long cut on it’s side, but it was neither deep nor serious. A thorough cleansing, a
few stitches and a properly placed bandage had been all that it needed, and Anya
had been more than capable of dealing with it herself. But she now realized that
Raven would see it, and that Raven would be worried – she wanted nothing more than
to pretend none of this had ever happened, to just come home and be with Raven and
not have her hurting – but she knew that the instant Raven laid eyes on the
bandage, she’d be reminded of it all, and she’d surely be hurt again. And so Anya
tugged the sleeve of her hoodie – no, Raven’s hoodie – down to cover her arm
entirely.
She was wearing Raven’s hoodie. She’d been wearing it when the explosions had
happened, having intended to wear it till she got to the tent hospital in the field
because it’d been a chillier morning than usual – but of course that had never
happened, and instead she’d had the thick hoodie with her all day despite the fact
that the heat had grown to incredible heights and it had almost been
unbearable. She'd refused to leave it behind, because it was Raven's and reminded
her of Raven. She'd taken it off only when she was dealing with patients, not
wanting it to get messed up, but had never left it behind.
Anya now looked down at the hoodie and realized that it was torn on the side where
it’d caught on the fence as they’d scrambled out of the camp. She cursed under her
breath, and suddenly found her vision clouded by tears – she didn’t even know why,
but the sight of the hoodie torn made her heart ache, and all of a sudden she was
crying, sobbing quietly into her arm, trying her best to keep silent. She hated
that she was crying in public, and that she was crying altogether – but she also
couldn’t help it, not when relief and residual fear washed over her in alternating
waves. The thought of being dead and Raven being devastated over her loss struck
Anya like a stab to the chest, and the way she imagined it was more painful than
anything – Raven, crying and sobbing, left alone and broken so thoroughly that her
cheery self was gone altogether. Raven, hurting after her being gone.
Just the thought of never seeing Raven again made Anya feel like she couldn’t
breathe – she was terrified, despite there being no cause for it anymore, and
buried her face even deeper in her arms. The soft fabric reminded her of all the
times she’d laid her head on Raven whilst she was wearing it, of all the times
she’d had her face nuzzled in Raven’s shoulder as her fingers ran mindless patterns
along her back. She wanted nothing more than for Raven to be there now, and was
comforted by the knowledge that she’d get to see her in less than a day.
The flight was one organized specifically for the evacuation of any non-emergent
military and DWB staff, and so Anya had been able to bring her medical kit aboard.
She might’ve left all her things at camp, but her medical kit she’d grabbed on her
way out, and it’d been put to good use. Now she pulled out a needle and some
thread, and although it was made for medical use and not for actual sewing, she
pulled the hoodie over her head and set to work to stitch the fabric back together.
She kept undoing the stitches she’d done, not pleased with how challenging sewing
fabric was as opposed to skin – it didn’t do what she wanted in the ways she
wanted, and she couldn’t get the stitches even, and so it took her almost half the
flight to Paris to just stitch up the small tear on the hoodie. Once she was done,
she put the shirt back on, and pulled the hood over her head before resting her
head down and attempting to get some sleep.
Upon arrival in Paris, Anya and the ten other doctors she’d been traveling with
were immediately escorted to another gate, and before she even really knew what was
happening, she was seated on another plane, about to take off. There hadn’t been
any time to call – she’d shot Raven a text from a colleague’s phone the instant
they’d landed, but in that text she’d told Raven that they’d be landing almost five
hours later than what they actually were landing at given this new time. She’d
heard that they had an earlier departure only after she’d texted Raven, and there
hadn’t been any time to send off another text before they’d set off – the plane was
already behind schedule, and because it was technically a military plane, they
stuck to their schedule almost precisely.
And so she forced herself to sleep again, curled up in her seat, and the remaining
seven hours to New York passed by as the longest seven hours of her life. It was
dry and cold in the plane, and the food wasn’t very satisfactory – the nausea that
had been gnawing at her gut for the entire day only got worse after she’d eaten the
chicken pasta and the roll that had come with it, but she managed to keep it down
nevertheless. She’d cried again a little, unable to really control or comprehend
why she did – she was a mess and felt like it, and looked like it too. Her hair was
still in a pony tail, most likely messed up with blood and vomit from the patients
she’d tended to earlier - after all, she was a doctor and there'd been wounded
people. Her clothes were dirty too, from riding in the back of the jeep and from
various bodily fluids, and she hadn’t bothered to really dust them off or change.
She didn't have a change of clothes, and she didn’t really care.
The whole time that she was awake in between moments of being asleep, all she could
think of was what would happen when she did get home. She’d come to consider
Raven’s place her home, not her apartment – she only realized that now, when she
was thinking of Raven and feeling like she missed not only her but her space. Their
space, really. Their home.
Raven had referred to her bedroom as ‘our bedroom’ once, and Anya still remembered
it. More specifically, she remembered the way hearing it had made her feel weak and
absolutely overjoyed. She liked the thought of them being a 'we', and of sharing
things and places and calling them 'ours' instead of 'yours and 'mine'.
She thought of Lexa, too. Raven hadn’t been the only one she’d been worried about –
she was more than aware that Lexa was surely worried as well, and the fact that
Clarke had answered the phone had confirmed what she’d feared. If Clarke knew that
Raven was upset, it was more than evident that Lexa knew too, and Anya had no
troubles believing that Lexa would be equally as devastated over the possibility of
her loss as Raven was.
She was going to sit Lexa down and talk with her, and comfort her too. But her main
priority for the moment was Raven, because it was Raven who’d seen her disappear –
it was Raven who’d gone from happily laughing about her being a superhero to a
blank screen, to absolute confusion and lack of knowledge and fear. It was Raven
whose heart had been crushed when the communications tower had fallen and the
connection had been lost.
And it was Raven to whom Anya hurried to the instant the plane did land, a little
past four in the morning. There were some people from DWB to receive them, and
after providing her with some money for a cab and telling her they wanted her to
come in for some reports and such as soon as possible, Anya ran off. It was cold in
New York, and she didn’t have a jacket, but she didn’t really care.
Coming to the apartment building made Anya’s stomach twist in knots. She’d
considered calling Raven from the airport, but had decided against it. She'd
figured she might as well surprise her, let her sleep a little while longer before
she showed up at her door.
The way up in the elevator was the most agonizing minute of Anya’s life, and each
step that brought her closer to Raven’s door made her heart leap - whether it was
with nerves or excitement, she wasn't so sure. She was already overwhelmed, her
hand clutching the strap of her bag as tight as it could, her heart racing in her
chest. She was scared of what she’d find, of how Raven would react, and she was so
nervous and jittery that she felt sick again.
She came to Raven’s door, and took a deep breath to steady herself.
And then she rang the doorbell.
> OF COURSE ANYA ISN'T DEAD I'D NEVER DO THAT i'm glad to find that most of you had
faith in me to not kill her
> kudos to the few of you who remembered me mentioning that 'nobody's going to die'
way earlier
> drama-o-rama shit happened, and Clarke is the absolute best
> next chapter's gonna be 99% Ranya just a fyi, after all, it's their reunion
56. Chapter 56
> ok so this chapter is sinful and long and 100% Ranya

> its beautiful
> enjoy
Raven hadn’t been sleeping. No, how could she, when Anya was supposed to land in
mere hours – there was no way the nerves and excitement and residual worry would’ve
let her shut her eyes, not until Anya was there and she was sure she was safe and
fine and definitely not dead. And so when the doorbell rang at almost five in the
morning, she was confused about who it could be. She got up, and didn’t bother to
put on any pants as she walked over to the door clad in nothing but Anya’s t-shirt
and underwear. Whoever it was this early most likely didn’t expect to find her
fully dressed anyway.
Raven opened the door, expecting to find either Clarke or Lexa standing on it’s
other side. But instead, her eyes fell on the one person she hadn’t known to
expect, and her eyes widened when she realized that Anya was standing before her.
Anya smiled shyly, but made no move to come forward. “Hey.”
She wanted to wait to see what Raven did.
“Holy shit.”
That was all Raven managed to stammer, and for a long while, she just stared at
Anya, half not believing that she was there – but then the realization hit her, and
she threw herself into Anya’s arms, a cry leaving her lips as Anya’s arms caught
her and wrapped around her waist. She nuzzled her face in Anya’s neck, and laughed
– and then she cried a little, a few tears escaping her eyes, and all the while
Anya was there, holding her, her hand stroking her hair and her arms so tight
around her that it was almost uncomfortable. But it wasn’t, because she was being
held by Anya, who most certainly was alive and fine and breathing, and Raven could
feel her pulse beneath her fingertips and it was just all too much for her to
handle. Anya’s heart was racing, and Raven was certain hers was too – for a moment,
she just stood there, arms wrapped around Anya as tightly as she could, her face
buried in her neck, and felt whole again.
She withdrew eventually, just slightly, and their eyes met for just the briefest of
moments before Raven tightened her arms around Anya’s neck and kissed her. Anya
moved her hands down to Raven’s thighs and picked her up with all the ease in the
world, and Raven wrapped her legs even tighter around Anya’s waist as she deepened
the kiss, ignoring the fact that they were standing in the hallway and in anyone’s
view. Nothing else mattered to her except the fact that Anya was there.
Somehow, Anya managed to maneuver herself into the apartment whilst still holding
and kissing Raven, and after she’d kicked the door shut behind her, she pinned
Raven against it, giving her hands freedom to run up along Raven’s sides to cup her
face. There was a desperation in both of them that couldn’t be stifled, though
neither of them really made any attempt to do so – it had been far too long, and
now they both found themselves wanting, yearning for more, wanting it all in that
one instant, and unable to fully comprehend the fact that the other was really
_there_.
“I’m here,” Anya murmured amidst kisses, “I’m here.”
Raven sighed and pulled her closer, her hands running through Anya’s hair and just
keeping her there. She was so overwhelmed by the fact that she was there – she
hadn’t expected her this soon, and yet there she was, holding her and kissing her
and _there_ with her.
“I need you closer,” she whispered against Anya’s lips. “Please.”
Anya hummed when she felt Raven’s hips grind against her just slightly. “Right now,
princess?”
Raven didn’t even bother to complain about the nickname. “Now.”
Their lips met, and Anya’s tongue slipped past Raven’s lips without protest; she
pushed Raven even tighter against the door, and the whimper that left Raven’s
throat when her waist pressed into her core was more than precious. Anya almost
shuddered with just everything that she felt – Raven was there, she was there, she
had her and held her and she was _there_ , she wasn’t alone anymore. They were
together now, and Anya had no intentions of ever leaving.
She let Raven down and without even stopping for another kiss or a word, she knelt
before her and slid her underwear off, finding that she was already wet.
“You’ve been thinking about me?”
Raven just groaned and raised her hips towards Anya. “Please.”
Anya hummed and lifted one of Raven’s legs over her shoulder as she ran her tongue
along Raven’s sex, the dripping wetness covering her tongue and tasting like
heaven; she buried her face between her girlfriend’s legs, and Raven’s whimpers
soon grew to moans as Anya’s tongue coaxed her through to the very brink of an
orgasm. She’d missed this taste, this feeling of complete devotion to the woman
before her; she cared for nothing except Raven’s pleasure, and each whimper and
moan that left her lips was more precious to Anya than any material good ever could
be.
Raven was at her prettiest when she came. Anya simply couldn’t keep her eyes off of
her girlfriend when she threw her head back and groaned, her hips bucking beneath
Anya’s skillful tongue as pleasure coursed through her veins when she climaxed.
Anya knew that Raven grew very weak right after an orgasm, and so got up as fast as
she could the instant Raven wavered, wrapping her arms around Raven’s thighs and
picking her up again before her legs gave way. She then carried Raven over to the
kitchen counter which was just a few paces away and laid her down almost in the
exact same spot where she’d found Raven on New Year’s day. She leaned over her,
capturing Raven’s lips, and the feeling of her beneath her was more than worth the
months’ wait. All the fear of the day before was just gone, melted away by the feel
of Raven’s legs around her waist and hands running down her sides, and her lips –
god, she’d missed Raven’s lips, she’d missed kissing her so much that it was like
she was getting drunk on kisses alone.
Raven’s hands tugged at the hem of her shirt, and the next second she was sitting
up and Anya’s shirt was gone; there was a hunger in her eyes now, one which Anya
recognized all too well. For a moment, Raven faltered upon seeing the bandage on
Anya's arm - but Anya distracted her by pulling her in for a kiss.
"It's just a scrape," Anya muttered, "Nothing to worry about. Doesn't even hurt."
Raven was hesitant for the slightest moment. "You sure?"
"Yes, Raven, I'm sure."
And then Raven kissed her with hunger and demand, and Anya gave into that hunger
willingly, allowing Raven to take her as she pleased.
It wasn’t long before she was laying on Raven’s bed, hands fisted in Raven’s hair
as Raven’s tongue flicked over her clit and her fingers pumped in and out of her in
a continuous motion. Raven had the control now, and Anya was more than willing to
give it – no matter how much she may have loved topping and fucking Raven, the
brunette was more than capable of rendering her speechless with her mouth and
fingers. Her hands were tight in Raven’s hair, grasping at the brown locks as
though she feared she’d slip away otherwise; Raven only enjoyed that touch, that
roughness that Anya exhibited, and the knowledge that she was about to come. She
loved fucking Anya, even more so when she had her completely surrendered to her.
Taking her sweet time was something Raven was rarely good at, but in this instant,
she was – she’d been at it for a long while, keeping Anya at the very brink but not
letting her fall over the edge, wanting to savor this moment and each gasp and
whimper as much as she could.
“Raven, please-“
Raven grinned and increased her pace just slightly, her fingers curling inside Anya
and pressing at her g-spot just when her tongue pressed against her clit – and then
Anya was pulsing around her fingers, her hands gripping at her hair tightly as the
orgasm washed over her. She was so beautiful, just slightly squirming beneath
Raven’s tongue, and when she finally settled down, Raven felt like she never wanted
to leave. She rested her chin on Anya’s stomach and smiled, her fingers running
along Anya’s skin in irregular patterns as the woman beneath her quivered in the
aftershocks of her orgasm.
“Come back up here,” Anya sighed, “I need you on me.”
Raven crawled up into Anya’s arms, thinking she’d want to cuddle, but instead found
herself pinned down on her back with Anya’s lips back on hers, a knee pressed to
her crotch and a tongue in her mouth. She was effectively silenced by Anya’s tongue
as Anya’s thigh grinded down against her, eliciting whimpers and moans as pleasure
ran through her veins from where she was already overly sensitive. Anya moved her
hands away from Raven's wrists, only to lace her fingers with Raven's, and she then
moved to lay so close on top of her it was simply amazing; Raven was being taken
again by Anya, and she had nothing to say against it.
She wanted to give herself to Anya. She was Anya’s, and Anya was hers, and she’d
missed her so sorely that she just needed Anya closer, for her to be near her like
this – she couldn’t get enough of her, no matter what she tried, there was no point
where she didn’t want to be closer. Even now, with skin on skin and lips on lips,
she wanted to be closer, even though that was impossible.
“You want me to fuck you good and proper?” Anya husked into Raven’s ear, her thigh
still slowly grinding against her.
Anya hummed and nipped at Raven’s earlobe. “How do you want it?”
And so, not five minutes later, Raven found herself lowering herself onto a strap-
on whilst straddling Anya’s hips, with Anya on her back on the bed. She went down
slow, trying to adjust and not go all at once, and Anya watched her in awe as the
toy slid into her in all of it’s entirety. And then Raven’s hips met Anya’s, and
she let out a tiny whimper when Anya lifted her hips even more, and she looked at
Anya to find her looking at her with the most pleased and awestruck look on her
face.
“You’re beautiful.”
Raven smirked and rolled her hips, and a quiet moan left her lips – Anya planted
her hands on Raven’s waist and began slowly guiding her through the motions as she
continued to ride the toy on her. Raven’s hands were on Anya’s stomach, pressing
just slightly as she rolled her hips over and over again, tiny whimpers leaving her
lips whenever Anya lifted her hips just slightly to push the toy even deeper into
her at just the right moment.
“Fuck, Raven,” Anya murmured. “I’ve never seen you look this beautiful.”
She bucked her hips, and Raven whimpered once again; the heat was building up
within her, the tension and the motions getting her to the brink slowly but surely.
Anya watched her, watched her beautiful girlfriend fuck herself to the brink,
knowing there was nothing else she’d rather see – Raven was there, hers, on her and
at her prettiest, her hair framing her face in a brown mess of slightly tangled
hair, her eyes dark and hazed over with sheer pleasure; her breaths were hitched
and irregular, and her movements were growing less and less controlled as she
neared her climax. To keep her pace, Anya helped her with the hands she had on
Raven’s hips and with slight movements of her own hips, her gaze never leaving
Raven’s face as she did.
When Raven leaned downwards to kiss Anya once again, the angle of the toy changed
so that she was now practically gasping for air, but Anya claimed her mouth and
lips, a hand planted at the back of Raven’s neck to keep her where she was. In one
smooth motion, she’d changed their position so that Raven was now underneath her,
her forearms resting on both sides of Raven’s head and supporting her weight as her
hips moved the toy back and forth inside the brunette. Raven’s legs wrapped around
Anya’s waist, giving her the perfect angle to reach as deep as she could go, and
Raven was practically seeing stars. The added friction between Anya’s crotch and
Raven’s clit sent new shivers of pleasure running through Raven’s body, and she
would’ve whimpered were it not for Anya’s tongue in her mouth effectively muffling
any noises she might’ve left. As she began picking up her pace, Anya pulled away
from Raven’s lips to watch her - her eyes were shut, lips parted just slightly as
raspy breaths and quiet whimpers left her lips with each rougher thrust. Before
long, Anya’s pace was quick and rough, and the whimpers had grown to occasional
cries, and when Raven finally came, her nails ran down Anya’s back so hard that
they surely left marks. Anya slowed down then, not pulling away quite yet, and
leaned in to catch one last whimper from Raven’s lips with her own; she kissed her
gently, gingerly even, and leaned her forehead against Raven’s, waiting patiently
as she regained her senses. She jumped slightly when she felt Raven’s hand brush
along her thigh, but wasn’t surprised when she felt the harness of the strap being
undone. She pulled the toy out of Raven then, and Raven tossed it aside, humming
slightly as she touched her lips to Anya’s.
“Welcome home,” she murmured.

Anya smiled and kissed her again. She was laying atop Raven, both of them spent and
breathing heavily and entirely enthralled with one another. Now was the time; now
was the moment that she’d do it, say the words she’d been wanting to say for days.
For weeks, even.
“I love you.”
The words left her lips as easy as a breath, and Anya found herself wondering how
she could have ever been afraid to say them.
_I love you._
She’d realized it the instant the sliding doors of the airport lounge had shut
behind her and Raven had disappeared from view.
She’d thought about going back and telling Raven right that instant, but decided
against it. She’d thought about calling her from the plane, before it left, and
telling her. But she hadn’t.
She’d almost said it when she’d called her after she’d landed in N’Djamena, but
she’d stumbled over the words and hadn’t.
Each call that she’d made to Raven, she’d wanted to end it with a simple ‘I love
you’. But it hadn’t felt right – she’d wanted to see Raven’s face when she said it,
wanted to be there in that instant.
And then all hell had broken loose, and all she’d been able to think was that she
hadn’t told Raven that she loved her. She had refused to accept that she’d die
before telling her, and she’d almost been furious when she’d gotten hurt – there
was no way she was going to go, not yet, because she had something important to
say.
And now she was there, watching Raven’s eyes widen with surprise and joy when she
realized what Anya had said, and the wait had surely been worth being able to see
it all. Neither of them said a word, no – Raven’s lips found hers, hungry and
demanding and teeming with happiness, and Anya actually laughed into the kiss;
Raven was happy, she was happy, and everything was perfect.
“Shit, I thought you’d never say it,” Raven finally stammered.
“I’m waiting...?”
“Oh, what? You want me to say it too?”
“Yes.”
Raven rolled her eyes and kissed her again. “I love you too, you idiot.”
“You’re the idiot.”
Raven pushed at Anya’s shoulders just slightly, but Anya knew exactly what she was
asking for; she rolled over onto her back, and allowed Raven to crawl on top of
her, the brunette’s face settling into the crook of her neck and her hand coming up
to toy with one of her breasts, lazy and slow because she was just entirely spent
and god, so happy. Her fingers drew languid circles along soft skin, and for a
while, neither of them spoke.
Minutes passed, and they just laid there, comfortably silent. But then Anya felt
Raven tremble just slightly, and thought she was cold, and so she pulled the covers
over the two of them. But it wasn’t the cold that had Raven trembling – no, that
became evident from the first quiet whimper and the hot tear that fell onto Anya’s
skin.
“Raven,” Anya murmured as she wrapped her arms tighter around the girl to hold her
even closer, “Why are you crying?”
“It’s stupid.”
Anya sighed. “We’ve gone over this before. It’s not stupid, I’m sure.”
Raven was quiet for a long while. “I thought you were dead, Anya,” she mumbled. “I
thought you’d died, and I was so scared, and…I just…you’re here now.”
“I’m here.”
“And you’re not dead.”
“I’m very much alive.”
Raven sniffled and buried her face deeper into Anya’s neck. “It’s stupid, I know,
but I just…”
“It’s not stupid.”
“I don’t want you to go. Ever again.”
“I can’t promise that I won’t.”
“Promise me at least that you’ll never go to a place where there’s bombs and guns
and shit that could kill you.“
Anya sighed and nuzzled her cheek against Raven’s head. “I’m here now. I’m not
going anywhere.”
“I know.”
“And besides. I’m fine.”
“Are we not going to talk about that bandage on your arm?”
Anya groaned. “I’m fine.”
“Anya, you’ve bled.”
“It’s just a scrape.”
“And what about the bruises on your stomach?”
“They’re just bruises.”
Raven shuffled downwards to press a kiss atop Anya’s hip, around which the skin was
just slightly bruised and dark. “Still.”
Anya chuckled slightly and ran her hand through Raven’s hair as Raven continued to
litter soft kisses along her stomach, being especially gentle with the bruises.
“C’mere. I want to kiss you again.”
“No, I’m comfortable here.”
Anya sighed and said nothing.
“How’d you get the bruise?”
Another sigh. “I was fleeing the camp and I tripped and fell.”
“Clumsy.”
“Shut up.”
Raven reached over and grabbed Anya’s left arm, bringing it over so that she could
look at the bandage. “And this?”
“It’s just a cut.”
“How’d you get that?”
Anya was quiet for a while. “A bullet grazed my arm. It’s not deep.”
Raven swallowed hard. “You got…shot?”
“I didn’t get shot.”
“A bullet hit you.”
“It didn’t go _in_ me.”
“Anya, you got hit by a bullet!” Raven cried. “I can’t-how can you be so cool about
this?”
“Because I’m a doctor,” Anya said softly. “And I know I’m fine. And I don’t want to
think about the cut or the bruises, because I’m okay. I won’t spontaneously die –
the cut’s cleaned up and stitched, and the bruises aren’t a sign of internal
bleeding. I’m okay.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Raven muttered. Her finger was drawing circles around
Anya’s belly button, the skin beneath her fingertips warm and soft and smooth as
ever. “But if you get yourself hurt again, I’m going to kill you.”
Anya chuckled. “Of course you will.”
“I’m serious. I'll fucking kill you if you ever get yourself in danger again.”
“Of course you are.”
Raven turned to look up at her. “You’re not very good at convincing me that you
won't be in danger again.”
“I can’t promise you that I won’t go somewhere where there are risks.”
“Then I’ll just have to come along.”
Anya let out a laugh. “You wouldn’t last a day.”
“What? You think I wouldn’t survive?”

“It’s hot. And humid, most places where I go. And there’s no internet. What would
you do?”
“Uh, build stuff?”
“How about we don’t think about hypothetical things and just focus on the now?”
Raven smiled and pressed a kiss onto Anya’s stomach. “Your belly’s making noises,
by the way. You hungry?”
“Maybe?”
Raven put an ear to Anya’s stomach. “It sounds like an angry bear.”
“What do you want to eat? Pizza?”
“You.”
“Anya…”
“I’m serious. I don’t care about food.”
“I do. Food is important.”
Anya tapped Raven’s head lightly. “Come up here.”
“No, you’ll distract me. We’re getting food.” Raven stated seriously, reaching over
to grab her phone.
“How about you make the call…” Anya murmured as she sat up, her hand bringing
Raven’s chin upwards so that she could kiss her. She maneuvered them so that Raven
found herself on her back, Anya near her hips, and so when Anya grinned and looked
into her eyes, Raven knew her intentions.
“…and I’ll get started on you.”
* * *
It wasn’t until much later that it really hit Anya that she was home. Not just that
she was back home in the States – no, this was different. She hadn’t even been to
her own apartment, and realized then that she really didn’t care for it. This was
her home, here with Raven.
Raven was asleep. She lay on her side in front of Anya, with Anya’s arm resting
over her waist and the other lazily toying with a strand of her hair. Her butt was
pressed up against Anya’s hips, and their legs were tangled beneath the sheets –
beneath her hand, Anya could practically feel Raven’s heartbeat, steady and slow as
she slept soundly.
And then, the next second Anya knew, hot tears had welled up in her eyes. She
didn’t fully know why - she was just suddenly overwhelmed with a realization that
hit her like a truck.
_I could’ve died and left Raven all alone._
She pulled Raven closer, as close as she could, and buried her face into Raven’s
neck, inhaling her scent and just being surrounded by her entire presence. She
tried to fight the tears, but couldn’t – no, all she could was stifle the sobs, but
even then she was trembling under the sheer force of her breakdown. It had been too
long since she'd had a breath, and she’d been walking around in a haze, but now all
was clear and she realized just how things could have been. Sure, she’d cried out
of sheer frustration when she hadn’t been able to reach Raven, but it hadn’t been
like this. No, now Anya’s heart was shattering at just the thought of her being
dead and Raven being left behind, being left alone – she hated, loathed the
thought, and pulled Raven even closer as tears kept falling from her eyes.
Raven had woken to the first sob, and lay there in Anya’s arms, unsure of what to
do. But after a few minutes had passed, she decided it was useless to pretend she
was asleep, and so she turned around to face Anya.
“Hey,” she said quietly. “Anya. Hey.”
Anya sniffled and hid her face in Raven’s neck. “Shut up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Shut up.”
“Anya…”
Anya bit her lip to stifle a sob. “I just…god, Raven, I’m so sorry.”
“Anya, what?”
“I’m so sorry that I- that I took that risk. I fucked up, I could’ve _died_ and
left you alone and I just- I’m so sorry.”
Raven sighed and rested her hand atop Anya’s head, her fingers lacing through her
hair carefully. “It’s fine.”
“Raven, you thought I’d been hurt or died and I couldn’t get any message to tell
you I was fine. What if- what if I’d actually died?”
Raven shuddered, and in response, Anya’s arms tightened around her. “But you didn’t
die.”
“I could’ve.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I am.”
“Then stop.”
“I can’t.”
“You do realize you don’t have to go back to a place like that, right? Not unless
you choose to? You don't have to worry so much.”
Anya nodded. “It’s not that. It’s…Raven, I can’t stop thinking about how you…you
thought I was hurt or dead for hours. And Lexa, too. I’m just so sorry.”
“You’re here now. It doesn’t matter.”
“Raven, you cried. It matters.”
Raven grumbled but said nothing.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. But you don’t need to be.”
Anya sighed. “But I am.”
“I know.”
“I do love you, you know that right?”
Raven let out a laugh. “Yes, Anya, you’ve made it _pretty_ clear.”
“I don’t really…I don’t know how it works. It feels weird to say it.”
“I know.”
“But I feel it. Fucking shit, Raven, I feel it. You’ve fucked me over so badly I’m
a pining fucking mess,” Anya grumbled. “But I…I love you anyway.”
The fact that there was a falter in her voice made Raven’s heart feel like it was
about to explode. “You do realize you don’t have to say it all the time, right? I
love you, but I’ll be damned if we end up being like our idiot next door neighbors
who can’t seem to go two minutes without declaring their undying love for one
another.”
Raven had intended it as a joke, and expected Anya to laugh – but instead she saw
Anya’s eyes widen, and scrambled over what she’d said to figure out what could’ve
surprised her so.
_Our next door neighbors._
It was the second time Raven had slipped like that – the first time Anya had looked
about the same, but she’d hidden her reaction that time. But now Anya was looking
at her, lips parted slightly as she tried to think of something to say, and Raven
felt nerves churn in her stomach despite not having expected to be reacting at all.
“…our neighbors?” Anya finally asked, quiet as ever. “So what, you’ve just decided
I live here now?”
Raven panicked just slightly. “I- no, well, you’re welcome to…if you want?”
And then Anya laughed, and kissed her lightly before saying: “We’ll see. Let’s not
rush into anything.” Raven made a face, and Anya chuckled again. “I’d gladly live
with you, but I think I’d like to keep my apartment for now. In case you infuriate
me so much that I need space. There’s not much space here.”
“This is the biggest apartment I’ve ever lived in.”
“It’s big for one person. Not so big for two.”
“So you’re not saying no….you’re saying not yet?”
Anya nodded. “Not yet. When we're more stable, and been together longer. I’d hate
to fuck this up by rushing into something.”
Raven laughed. “Oh, trust me, if one of us is fucking this up, it’s me.”
Raven shrugged, suddenly shy. “I…I usually mess up in some way. I don’t know.”
“How do you usually mess up?”
There was a long moment of silence before Raven answered. “By not being enough.”
A sudden rush of emotions ran through Anya, and she climbed atop Raven, her lips
engulfing Raven’s so quickly that Raven let out a surprised squeal. But Anya was
gentle, so careful with her, and Raven could just feel Anya trying to erase the
heavy feeling that had settled upon her heart.
In all honesty, it worked pretty well, and so when Anya pulled away, Raven’s solemn
mood had passed as quick as it had come.
“You’re more than enough. You’re almost too much,” Anya said quietly. “Way too
perfect for anyone to deal with.”
She kissed Raven again, and Raven smiled. “You think?”
“Oh, I know you are. You may be an asshole and an idiot and annoying as hell at
times, but you’re more than enough. Anyone who’s ever dared to say or imply
otherwise can expect to have my fist coming into close contact with their face.”
Raven laughed. “There’s plenty of people for you to punch, then.”
“Then it looks like I’ll have bruised knuckles by tomorrow.”
But Raven’s arms wrapped tightly around Anya’s waist, and she buried her face into
her neck before muttering: “There’s no way you’re going anywhere. I don’t care
about who came before. They’re all assholes and dicks and I don’t care. You’re not
going around punching people.”
“Looks like I won’t have to worry about you running off to an ex.” Anya smiled.
“God, no. If I ever try, just assume I’ve lost my mind. Ask Clarke, she can confirm
that I’ve had an _awful_ track record with picking the worst people to date.”
“How do you know that I’m not bad, too?” Anya asked. “Since you claim to have this
awful track record?”
"I just know."
"How?"
Raven pulled her face away from Anya’s neck to look into her eyes. “Because you’re
still here.”
“What?”
“This is the longest relationship that I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“Shit, you really _have_ had a bad track record with relationships.”
“Told you.”
Anya was quiet for a while. “If it helps, I haven’t really done relationships.
Ever. So congrats to you for domesticating me.”
“I’m just that great. I tamed the beast.”
As if on cue, Anya yawned, and hid her face in Raven’s neck. “You’re dreaming,
Reyes. I can’t be tamed.”
Raven hummed and ran her fingers up Anya’s spine, and pushed her hair out of the
way to be able to gently stroke her upper back and the back of her neck. Anya
sighed contently and relaxed the instant she did that, and her exhaustion that had
thus far been creeping up on her hit her like a wall.
“Can’t be tamed, huh?” Raven asked softly.
“Shush.”
A few minutes later, Anya was asleep, and Raven smiled to herself as she felt her
girlfriend’s breath tickling her neck.
"Totally tamed the beast," she murmured to herself. "But you tamed me too."
She rested her cheek against Anya's head and shut her eyes, and allowed the steady
breaths against her skin lull her to a sweet, blissful sleep.
> AREN'T THESE SAPPY MESSES JUST THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEST
> I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
> ALSO NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO HAVE CLEXA I PROMISE BUT THIS HAS BEEN AN INTERLUDE
OF RANYA LOVE BECAUSE WE ALL NEED MORE RANYA IN OUR LIVES
57. Chapter 57
“Hey, don’t move.”
“It tickles.”
Clarke sighed and pushed Lexa's shoulder down. “I know it does. But don’t move or
you’ll mess it up.”
Lexa grinned and turned her head back to look at the book spread out before her.
She could feel the brush moving along her back, the paint cool and wet and tickling
her, but kept as still as she could. Clarke was straddling her lower back, and the
fact that she had neglected to wear anything other than underwear was giving Lexa
very alternative ideas to how their positions could go. But Clarke was painting on
her back, her brushstrokes slow and steady, and Lexa had promised not to move.
Clarke liked painting on Lexa’s back. Not only did she really enjoy the way her
back looked as it was, she really liked the intimacy of the whole setup – she was
sitting atop Lexa’s back, with Lexa on her stomach on the bed, a book set before
her and her hair tied up in a bun, a few stray hairs falling out and tickling her
neck. She reached over and caught a dollop of white paint on the tip of her brush,
and used that to make little dots along the wave she’d been painting, which she
then blended with another brush – there were two in her mouth, one in her right
hand, and one in her left. The image she’d been painting on Lexa’s back had
originally been just a beach, but it had evolved into an image of the ocean at
night with the night sky stretching overhead, stars and planets and galaxies strewn
across the blended background of dark blues and violets. The image itself ran all
along Lexa’s back and shoulders, and at each shoulder it fettered away into little
clouds that started off looking like pieces of the night sky, but which then became
lighter and lighter as she’d painted along Lexa’s arm, all the way to her hand. It
looked like the galaxies themselves had broken into little pieces and fallen along
her arms, and Clarke was very pleased with how it’d turned out. She was now working
on the ocean itself whilst she waited for the background of the night sky to dry,
and was fixated on the little details, like the froth on the backs of the waves and
the little reflections of the stars and the moon, which she’d painted on the corner
of Lexa’s right shoulder blade.
“Do you think Anya’s back by now?” Lexa asked. “She said her plane would land at
about eight in the morning. It’s nine now.”
Clarke hummed. “If she is, you won’t see her for a while. I think Raven needs some
time with her, don’t you?”
Lexa laughed gently. “Yes, she does. And I get it.”
“But you miss her.”
“Yeah.”
“She’ll come by once she manages to wriggle herself out of Raven’s grasp, which, by
the way, is almost an impossible feat. She may be small, but Raven’s strong.”
“Don’t I know it,” Lexa chuckled. “Do you even remember that night she challenged
us all to an arm wrestling match?”
“Do I? The back of your hand was bruised for days, Lexa. I told you not to do it.”
“She looked small.”
Clarke laughed again. “Hey, do you want me to paint the tattoos on you next? I’m
almost done with this.”
“Shouldn’t you let it dry first?”
“Yes, but I can go and revisit whatever drafts I made and plan them out a little
before I paint them.”
Lexa smiled. “Then yeah, sure. Show me how badass I could look.”
A while later, Lexa stood before a mirror, looking at the tattoos that Clarke had
painted on her skin. There was one running up from her ankle, a delicate pattern of
vines and flowers running up along the back and side of her calf to her knee;
another tattoo was on her right bicep, a tribal-sort tattoo that wrapped around her
arm in a pattern of three decorative rings of sorts. Clarke also had plans for
Lexa’s back, one of which Lexa had basically decided to get already – it was a
circle, supposed to be in between her shoulder blades, with intricate abstract
patterns meeting and crossing over within it’s perimeter, but because of the
painting currently on her back, she hadn’t been able to paint that one.
“So, what do you think?”
Lexa couldn’t tear her eyes off of her own reflection in the mirror, and Clarke
grinned at the awe in her eyes.
“They’re amazing. I want them now.”
Clarke laughed. “You will, soon. We’ll go to my tattoo artist. He’s good and nice
and always has M&M’s for you to eat. I need to get mine touched up anyway.”
Lexa smiled. “I love your tattoo.”
“You’ve said that about two thousand times.”
“But I do,” Lexa said as she turned around so that she could wrap her arms around
Clarke’s waist and pull her closer, “It’s so…you.”
Clarke had a tattoo on her left shoulder blade, a rendition of Da Vinci’s flying
machine’s wing, running from the middle of her spine towards her shoulder. Lexa
hadn’t pegged Clarke for the tattoo type, not until she’d taken her shirt of and
she’d seen the tattoo – it suited Clarke perfectly, and she struggled now to even
imagine her without it.
“I guess. It’s faded, though.”
“Then get it retouched while I get mine.”
“Not at the same time, though. I need to be there holding your hand, remember?”
Lexa grinned. “Yes, yes, I do remember you claiming I’ll cry. I won’t cry.”
“It’s not a walk in the park, Lexa.”
“It’s not like I’ll die.”
“True,” Clarke laughed. “Now, do you want to keep the paint on for the rest of the
day, or would you rather I snap a few pictures and then we take a shower?”
“We? You’re not dirty.”
“Oh, I can be dirty.” Clarke smirked. “C’mon. Let me document this glory.”
“Are you referring to the art or me?” Lexa asked, and Clarke rolled her eyes.
“The art, of course.”
Lexa pouted, and Clarke couldn’t even bear to keep her sarcastic comment.
“I’m just kidding, please don’t do the puppy dog eyes- you’re glorious, Lexa, you
know you are.”
And then Lexa smiled. “Come on, hurry up with the damn pictures. I want to take a
shower, and the paint’s flaking onto the floor.”
* * *
Anya woke from her long nap slowly, and finding Raven still in her arms, the first
thing she did was smile. She was home, she was comfortable, and she felt rested
despite having only slept a few hours. She would’ve been more than happy to shut
her eyes again and go to sleep, to just stay there with Raven in her arms, but she
knew very well that Lexa was waiting for her. She wanted to see Lexa, of course she
did – she’d missed her almost as much as she’d missed Raven, and she knew that Lexa
needed to see her well and alive just as much as Raven did.
Carefully as one could, Anya moved Raven off of herself, rolling her over to her
back to allow herself to slip away. Raven woke up just slightly, and whimpered when
she felt Anya leave the bed, and Anya couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll take a shower and go see Lexa,” she said quietly. “You sleep.”
“Come back.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
Raven grumbled something and reached over to grab Anya’s pillow, bringing it to her
chest and cuddling it. “Fine. But if you die, I’ll murder you…”
She was asleep again when Anya returned from her brief shower, and after briefly
drying her hair off with a towel she went over to Raven’s closet to find herself
something to wear. Her only clothes were scrubs, dusty and bloody and a little torn
and very smelly, and she had no desire to wear them. She wasn't surprised that a
great number of the clothes in Raven's closet were actually hers, and so it was no
problem at all for her to find something to wear.
She pulled on the first things she could find and then hurried off to see Lexa,
knowing it had been far too long.
The instant their door was opened, Lexa engulfed her in a tight hug, her arms
wrapping tightly around Anya’s neck as she pulled her in.
“Thank god you’re back,” Lexa muttered. “I missed you.”
Anya smiled and stepped inside, her arms wrapped around Lexa’s waist as she sighed.
“Missed you too, dummy.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Isn’t that what I always say when I come back?”
“Yes, and it’s always equally as annoying.”
Anya laughed. “Are you going to let go?”
In response, Lexa’s arms tightened around Anya’s neck. “No. You’re an idiot for
going to a conflict area.”
Anya sighed. “I’m sorry, Lexa.”
Lexa just muttered something into Anya’s shoulder.
“I didn’t hear that.”
“I said you’re an idiot.”

“I think we’ve already established that.”
Anya could feel Lexa trembling just slightly. “Hey. Are you crying?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, god, Lexa – I’m sorry. But I’m fine now. I’m okay.”
Lexa sniffled and wiped away a tear. “I thought you died. We all did. Well, Clarke
probably didn’t – she kept trying to get us to calm down, but we couldn’t because
we didn’t know _anything_. I…I don’t want to lose you, okay? You’re my only
friend.”
Anya rubbed Lexa’s back gently. “I’m not your only friend, you idiot. You’ve got
Raven, and Octavia, and Lincoln and all of Clarke’ friends.”
“But you’re the only friend who I knew before Clarke.”
“That’s true.”
“So I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
“I won’t.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t think either you or Raven will ever let me go anywhere dangerous ever
again. It took me five minutes just to get out of Raven’s grasp to get here, and
now I’ve got you latched on me,” Anya chuckled. “So I think I’m just stuck here for
all of eternity.”
“Good. Here you can’t die or get hurt.”
Anya chuckled. “You’re a bit of an idiot.”
“You can’t say I didn’t worry for nothing, though.” Lexa grumbled. “I mean,
explosions? Gunfire? Fucking terrorists? Fuck, Anya, even if you hadn’t died, they
could’ve sold you or god knows what-“
“It didn’t happen, Lex. I’m fine.”
“But it could’ve.”
“The important thing is that I’m here now. I’m okay.”
Lexa was quiet for a while. “Were you hurt?”
For a brief second, Anya contemplated lying. But it wouldn’t have been of any use,
and so she just sighed and nodded. “Yes.”
Lexa grumbled, still refusing to let go. “You’re an idiot. No, wait. You’re the
dummy for doing stuff like that. You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Doesn’t mean you couldn’t have.”
“Lexa, I could die under a bus here in New York. Or in a mugging. Just because I
could die doesn’t mean I will.”
“But still.”
Lexa finally pulled away, and moved over to the kitchen to make them some tea. Anya
followed her, and looked around for a bit before asking:
“Where’s Clarke?”
“She’s at the store. We’re out of milk.”
“Ah.”
Lexa stood on her toes to reach up in the cupboard to retrieve two mugs. “Where did
you hurt yourself?”
The question was almost nonchalant in tone, like it was an everyday conversation -
Anya was glad to see that Lexa was coping so well, that she wasn't quite as much a
mess as Raven had been. Lexa's strength and resilience, it seemed, had no end.
Anya pulled the sleeve of her hoodie up just slightly to show her the bandage.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Lexa commented as she turned the kettle on. “What tea
do you want?”
“Whatever you have.”
Lexa shot her an unamused look. “You _know_ I have about a thousand different
sorts. Pick one.”
Anya shrugged. “I don’t know, oolong?”
Lexa nodded and set the tea aside for a while as they waited for the water to boil.
“How’d you hurt it? Your arm, I mean?”
Anya sighed. “Don’t freak out.”
“What?”
“Promise.”
Lexa nodded. “I promise.”
“I kinda got shot at.”
“What!?”
“You promised not to freak out.”
“You got shot?”
“Not really shot,” Anya interjected, “It grazed my arm. The bullet, I mean. It just
gave me a cut.”
“Anya, you got shot.”
“Raven said the same thing. I didn’t get shot.”
“A bullet touched your skin and cut you, so you got shot.” Lexa decided. She handed
Anya her mug and gestured at the couch. “Now sit down, I want to talk to you. Tell
me everything about everything.”
And Anya did. She and Lexa sat on the couch, sipping their tea, and Anya told Lexa
everything about her month in Chad – well, three weeks really, but nevertheless,
she told Lexa everything. Even though she’d called Lexa whenever she could, she
still had a lot of things to tell, but she refused to give Lexa any details of what
had happened in the days leading up to her coming home. Lexa didn’t need to worry
about that. She didn’t need to know about the guard Anya had watched die, or about
the fear and the gunfire and the chaos – no, Anya told her about how she’d helped
people, how crap the internet had been, how the culture had been so different and
refreshing. And in turn, Lexa told her about what had happened in her life during
the past month, despite Anya knowing most of the details. But they spent ages
talking about Lexa’s upcoming move to San Francisco, and the puppy they practically
already owned, and about everything.
When Clarke came home about an hour later, she entered to find Lexa and Anya
talking excitedly about going on another road trip, and smiled gently as she went
over to the kitchen to put the groceries away. After doing that, she gave Anya a
quick hug and a ‘welcome home’ before heading up to her studio. She didn’t want to
intrude on Lexa’s Anya-time, and was more than happy to retreat into her art for
the afternoon to allow Lexa the time she needed to be with Anya and forget about
the tears and crying and fear that had occurred too much in the past days.
> clexa continues to awe me with their cuteness (also the number of people who have
requested me to write Clarke painting on Lexa is astounding, hope y'all liked it)
> Lexa&Anya's friendship hasn't gotten nearly as much attention as it should, but I
think that'll become more prominent in future chapters :)
58. Chapter 58
> yes i didn't update yesterday, but i had to get all ready for my LAST EVER DAY AS
AN ENROLLED STUDENT IN HIGH SCHOOL (like i still have final exams in a month BUT IM
FREEish)
> that said, with final exams due and study leave starting, i'm not so sure how
often i'll be updating this - thus far i think i'll stick to the daily updates, but
we'll see how it goes
The day after the next was Sunday. Clarke and Lexa had intended on sleeping in, as
one does on a Sunday, but were woken around six in the morning to rain hammering
into their window . Even Lexa was woken up by the sound of the wind and rain
rattling the entire building, and they both sat up to find New York enshrouded in a
wall of grey. The rain fell from the skies so heavily that they couldn’t even see
across Central Park, and the temperature in their apartment was way lower than what
it should’ve been.
“It’s so pretty,” Clarke murmured as Lexa settled back down next to her, “And so
quiet.”
“Mhm.”
“Have you ever gone for a walk in Central Park when it’s raining?”
“No.”
“We should.”
“Clarke, we could get mugged.”
“I’m pretty sure no one is out in rain like this.”
“We’ll go when it stops.”
Clarke laughed. “Clearly you’ve never seen rain like this. It won’t stop for days.”
Lexa grumbled and nuzzled her face in Clarke’s neck. “Then we won’t leave bed for
days.”
But Clarke just laughed again as she slipped out of Lexa’s arms and out of bed.
Lexa frowned, but said nothing until she saw Clarke reaching for the balcony door.
“You’re not going outside, are you?”
Clarke glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Come on. It’s fun.”
“Clarke, it’s freezing.”
“Come on,” Clarke coaxed. “Live a little.”
Lexa groaned. “But it’s co-old. And I’m so warm here.”
“Ok, say we take a bath afterwards? Will you come then?”
Lexa pretended to consider it despite having already made her decision. “Fine. But
can I get a massage?”
“It’s cute that you still think you have to ask.”
And so Lexa got up and walked over to the door, and together they stepped out into
the brisk March morning rain. It was cold and drenched them within seconds, and
Lexa gasped at the sheer freezing sensation that ran through her body. Clarke was
grinning widely, enjoying the feel of the water on her, and Lexa couldn’t help but
be in awe of her – even now, with no makeup and messy wet hair and drenched
clothes, she was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and she then found
herself agreeing with Clarke.
_Live a little._
She _did_ feel more alive in that moment, standing in the pouring rain on that
chilly March morning. The water hammered the earth and the city before them, ran
down the sides of buildings and along her skin and stuck her hair to her face, and
made shivers run through her body but she didn't care - no, it felt so pure, so
raw, standing there at the mercy of the earth, and Lexa understood entirely what
Clarke had meant.
And then Clarke grabbed her waist and her lips found Lexa’s, so warm as opposed to
the freezing water running down their skin, and Lexa smiled widely before spinning
her a little, her bare feet slipping on the deck of their balcony.
“This is pretty romantic, isn’t it?” Clarke asked, her lips grazing Lexa’s as she
spoke. “A kiss in the rain?”
Lexa sought out her lips and kissed her gently before replying. “I’ve never been
kissed in the rain before.”
“Neither have I.”
“It is very romantic.”
“It is.”
“But I’m getting cold.”
Clarke laughed and withdrew from her, her hand slipping into Lexa’s and dragging
her back inside and to the bathroom, where she set the bath to run. As they waited
for the water to rise, she turned to face Lexa with a coy smile on her face.
“You do know your shirt is entirely see-through at this point, right?” She asked
Lexa. Lexa looked down, but was not in any way surprised to find that the white t-
shirt she’d worn was drenched and stuck to her body. She was also not surprised to
find Clarke looking at her with a look of unashamed appreciation, and smirked
slightly.
“Like what you see?”
Clarke hummed. “You’d definitely win any wet t-shirt contest. Anyday.”
Lexa eyed Clarke’s own wet torso and the t-shirt that clung to her form in the
exact same way. “You sure about that?”
“What?”
“I think you’d give me a run for my money.”
Clarke laughed and backed Lexa up into the counter, her hands placed on either side
of Lexa as she leaned in for a kiss. “Or we could settle with a tie.”
“A tie?”
Clarke pulled – well, more like peeled – the shirt off of Lexa, and began littering
warm kisses all along her cold skin. “Do you think we have time before the bath’s
run?”
Lexa glanced over at the tub. “Nope. It’s almost flooding.”
“Fuck.”
* * *
After a good long bath, they crawled downstairs for an easy breakfast of whatever
was in the fridge – Clarke ate pizza, as one does when you’re too lazy to actually
cook anything, whilst Lexa focused on fruits and such. Although half of the
assortment she’d set up on her plate was stolen by Clarke, Lexa was still satisfied
with the little that she ate – she wasn’t so big on eating a lot in the mornings,
and especially not that day. She didn’t have anywhere to be.
“You know,” Lexa began, “I think we should just put all the lights out.”
Clarke looked at her with an incredulous expression. “And why would we do that?”
Lexa shrugged. “I don’t know, to pretend like it’s a blackout? We could put out
candles…”
“You and your candles,” Clarke laughed, “You’re an idiot.”
“Rude.”
“I do like blackouts, though.”
“My point exactly.”
A slight smug smirk forced it’s way onto Lexa’s lips, and Clarke laughed again as
she leaned in to wipe the smirk away.
“So what you’re saying is that you want to play make-believe that there’s a
blackout?”
“What? It’s romantic.”
“Possibly.”
“Trust me, Clarke. It’ll be romantic.”
Clarke smiled and hopped onto the counter. “Alright. Wow me.”
“You expect me to do all the work?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been gone all week, Lexa. And you bailed on our dinner date on Tuesday. You
gotta make up for it somehow.”
Lexa raised an eyebrow. “So all of that in the bath didn’t make up for it?”
"Not quite."
"Two orgasms, Clarke."
Clarke grinned. “Nope. I’ll make snacks and cocoa. You set up your romantic scene.”
Lexa went off, and Clarke did as she’d promised; she tried her best to not look at
what Lexa was doing in the living room, which was very hard considering their
apartment consisted of an open floor plan and she could essentially see into the
living room from everywhere in the kitchen. Nevertheless, she focused on arranging
fruits and pretzels and whatever other edible things they had in their cupboards
onto a nice little tray until Lexa put the lights out and came over.
Because the sky was overcast, it was dark in their apartment despite it being
daytime. Lexa had lit all the candles before turning the lights off, and the whole
living room was now lit in their dim, wavering light. A gentle scent of lemon and
sage floated about in the air, and as she made her way over to Clarke, she couldn’t
help but feel infinitely relaxed. She really needed this, a day to just be quiet
and enjoy the rain and the peace.
She’d had a long week as it was, and after that there’d been the whole mess with
Anya – no, Lexa was thoroughly exhausted, and it was true that she hadn’t had much
time for Clarke. Clarke, too, had had her own busy schedule, and there’d been days
where they’d only been together at night; Clarke would still be asleep when Lexa
left for work, and she’d be out running errands when Lexa returned. One night she’d
gone to a movie with Octavia and hadn’t returned until midnight to find Lexa fast
asleep. They’d had a brief conversation before Lexa had yawned and practically
fallen asleep atop her not seconds later.
There was a bigger case that she was heavily involved in, not as the specific
attorney but more as Indra’s help – after all, Indra was running the whole office,
and so most of the paperwork was left to Lexa. She didn’t mind it, not really; the
case would be over the next week, and then she’d have more time.
But she knew Clarke was bored. She did pick up some shifts at a café nearby, but
that was only part-time and she wished she could spend some more time with her. And
so she relished having this day, this Sunday to just focus on Clarke and themselves
and the rain hammering the world outside.
“Come on,” she murmured in Clarke’s ear as she slid her arms around her waist from
behind, “Let’s go lie down.”
“We just got out of bed.”
Lexa hummed and laid her chin on Clarke’s shoulder. “Not in bed. I built us a
fort.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“Don’t tell me you put candles inside the fort.”
“Not real ones.”
Clarke smiled and reached over for two mugs of hot cocoa, topped with whipped cream
and chocolate sauce and little tiny marshmallows, and handed them to Lexa. “You
take these, and I’ll bring the tray.”
“These look like diabetes.”
“Have a cheat day, Lexa. We both deserve to have one. I’ve been living on your
vegan snacks all week.”
“That’s just a good thing,” Lexa commented as she made her way to the living room.
“Healthier.”
“If I eat one more cashew nut, I’m sure I’ll die.”
“You won’t. You’ll live longer.”
“Unhealthy things are good.”
“Sure,” Lexa admitted. “But only in moderation.”
“Fine, fine.”
“So do you want to stand here and talk all day, or would you rather get in the
fort?”
Clarke only then realized that they were standing in front of an expertly assembled
pillow fort. Lexa had set a broom in between two couches so that it held up the
blanket canopy high enough for them to be able to crouch and walk in without much
difficulty. Inside the fort, there was just about every pillow they owned, along
with blankets and their duvets from upstairs, as well as little led tea lights
strewn here and there to provide the dim light. One end of the fort was open, and
they could easily see the window and the rainy New York skyline beyond – it was an
odd sight, seeing the city shrouded within cascading water and clouds. The tops of
the highest buildings were hidden in clouds, and the sky was as grey as ever. But
in their little cosy nest, everything was warm and comfortable and well-lit.
It was nice.
Lexa settled against the couch and set the steaming mugs of cocoa aside, allowing
Clarke to sit in front of her in between her legs. She then pulled Clarke close, as
close as she could, and rested her head on Clarke’s shoulder, her arms wrapping
tightly around Clarke's waist and hugging her.
“This is nice, isn’t it?”
Clarke hummed and lifted a hand up to stroke Lexa’s cheek gently. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”
“I get it.”
“But you don’t like it.”
“It’s not like I haven’t been busy. We’ve just been missing each other with the
timing, that’s all.”
“I’ve been working most days, though.”
“That you have,” Clarke sighed. “But I get it. First big case – you want to show
Indra how good you are. I get it.”
“But I do think you should sleep more.”
“I would’ve on Thursday, but then the whole Anya thing…”
“Yeah. That was shit.”
Lexa turned her head slightly and pulled Clarke even closer. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
“I am too.”
“Raven sure seems happy.”
Clarke laughed. “Oh, god, you should’ve been here yesterday – I don’t even know
_how,_ our walls are thick and everything, but I swear to god I could hear them. I
was going to tell you about it last night but you just came home and collapsed into
bed, so I figured I’d wait-“
“Hear them? As in-“
“Yup.”
“How loud do they even have to be for that to happen?”
“Pretty loud. Or then they were doing it _right_ next to our kitchen wall.”
“Probably right up against it, if I know Anya-“
“Lexa! I do not need to hear details about Raven and-“ Clarke shuddered. “She’s my
best friend, but I’d rather not imagine her in that light. Nope, no. Gross.”
Lexa chuckled. “I forget sometimes that you’re such a visual thinker.”
Clarke reached over for a grape, and offered one to Lexa, who took it gladl. “You
know…I’ve been thinking, about San Francisco…”
“Hm?”
“Are we getting a dog?”
Lexa looked at her, surprised. “Isn’t that what we’ve been planning?”
“Well, yeah…but here’s the thing, okay? So Lincoln’s got this friend, I think her
name’s Monroe or something…anyway, she got this puppy like two weeks ago, but turns
out she’s allergic, and he now needs a home.”
“And you’re asking if we should take him?”
“Maybe?”
“Do you have a picture?”
“On my phone, yeah, but it’s upstairs-“
“No, I got it right here.” Lexa said, reaching behind her to retrieve Clarke’s
phone. “I brought stuff because I figured we’d just spend the day here. I’ve got
your sketchbook and Sophie’s World – you still haven’t finished it.”
Clarke frowned at her as she took her phone and began looking for the picture she'd
gotten. “It’s a heavy text, okay?”
“It really isn’t.”
“Okay, maybe it isn’t, but all the teaching segments in between…make me feel like
I’m in school again.”
“You do realize you don’t _have_ to read it?”
“It’s your favorite book. And it’s good, if you don’t count the parts that I don’t
understand.”
“I can explain them to you.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Clarke said as she turned in Lexa’s lap and showed her
the picture on her phone. “Look at that cute face. We have to take him.”
What Lexa saw in the picture wasn’t a cute face – no, all she saw was a pale yellow
blur of fur and what might’ve been a face, but it was hard to tell because the
puppy was on the move.
“Does he have a name?”
“No, not yet. Well, she did intend on calling him Rocky, but he’s too little to
have learned it yet.”
“Where does she live?”
“In Queens. Lincoln said that she’ll be more than happy to give him to us for half
the price she paid for him-“
“We’ll pay full. She shouldn’t have to be losing money _and_ a puppy.”
Clarke smiled. “You and your kind heart. Alright, so we’ll pay full? That means
we’re getting him?”
Lexa leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss that conveyed both excitement and
love – when she withdrew, she was smiling like a little child, and Clarke couldn’t
help but grin.
“Yes, we’re getting him. I love him already.”
“What do you think we should name him?”
Lexa shrugged as she laid back and pulled Clarke back onto her. “I don’t know.
Something ridiculous.”
“Banana?”
“We can’t name a dog Banana, Clarke.”
“Kitty?”
“That’s a little weird,” Lexa mused. “How about Fish?”
“Fish?”
“Yeah, Fish.”
“In what world is Banana not an acceptable name for a dog, but Fish is?”
“What’s wrong with Fish?”
“It’s…weird.”
“And that’s a problem?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “No, it isn’t. If you want to name our dog Fish, then fine.
But you’re picking up it’s poop.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Oh, and there’s _no_ way I’ll be taking him out on his morning walks alone. You’ll
have to learn to be a morning person.”
“Fine, fine. We’ll see.”
“No, promise. Right now. At least three mornings a week, you walk him.”
Lexa sighed. “Fine. I’ll walk him three mornings a week.”
“And I’ll walk him three mornings, and the fourth extra day we go together.”
“So we can’t walk him together on any other days?” Lexa pouted jokingly, and Clarke
let out a laugh before kissing her stupid cute face.
“I was just joking.”
“I know.”
“So we’re getting the puppy?”
“We’re getting the puppy.”
> one of you sent me a prompt asking for a rainy day in NYC - i originally intended
on just making it a oneshot and i still may, but it did inspire me with this so
here u go
> lexa&candles is the only otp that matters tbh
> also, FISH? yeah puppies are my weakness there will be a puppy and it will be
adorable
59. Chapter 59
> i promise there'll be plot and drama (and angst) coming soon, but Fish the puppy
deserved his own chapter
> so here you go, puppydog fluff
And so two days later the two of them found themselves standing in front of a door,
nervous and excited and not quite sure what to expect.
“You sure we can do this?” Clarke asked quickly. “A puppy?”
“Yes, we can, Clarke. And if he’s as cute as you say he is-“
“He’s a puppy, Lexa. Of course he’s cute.”
Lexa laughed. “True. Should I ring the doorbell now?”
“Wait. Let me breathe.”
After Clarke had sufficiently calmed herself down, Lexa reached over and pressed
the little button beside the door. Immediately in response to the ring, they heard
a little muffled bark, and Lexa knew then that she was done for. A moment later the
door opened, revealing Lincoln’s friend, a quirky looking woman with a faux Mohawk,
blue on one side and pink on the other, and the reddest nose anyone could ever see.
“Clarke and Lexa?” She asked. "Lincoln's friends?"
Clarke could see a little puppy trying to force his way through Monroe’s legs, and
smiled before offering her hand.
“Uh, yeah. I’m Clarke. This is my wife Lexa.”
“Wife? Nice. I’m yet to even find a girlfriend,” Monroe smiled as she shook both
Clarke’s and Lexa’s hands. “Come on in, but I warn you – he’s adorable and a ball
of fun, but he’s got razor sharp teeth.”
They stepped in, and saw the puppy, and instantly fell in love. He was a golden
retriever, just barely ten weeks old, tiny and fluffy and so excited to see them
both that it was just overwhelming. Lexa crouched down and the puppy instantly ran
to her, whining excitedly as he tried to simultaneously lick and bite her fingers.
She was laughing, the feeling was so new to her – all the dogs she’d ever met in
her life had been expertly trained dogs, meant to be accessories, not pets. The
puppy before her was so energetic and pure and _so cute_ that she simply didn’t
know what to do.
Monroe smiled. “You know, you can pick him up, if you like. He loves to be held.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
Lexa looked at the puppy, perplexed. “How-“
Clarke crouched beside her and promptly picked the puppy up. “Hold out your arms.”
Lexa did as told, and a moment later there was a ball of fur in her hands and a
pink tongue trying to get at her face. She yelped, but didn’t drop the dog, only
tried to get away from his consistent licking and failing miserably. Clarke
couldn’t help but laugh, and Monroe did too – Lexa, on the other hand, kept her
mouth shut as the puppy kept licking her face, and did not know what to do.
“He’s a little energetic,” Monroe explained. “But he’s kind.”
“He’s adorable.”
“So you’ll take him?”
Clarke looked at her incredulously. “Of course we’ll take him. Unless you’re having
second thoughts-?”
In response, Monroe sneezed. “No, please. I love him, but he makes my nose run like
a tap. I can’t keep him.”
“You hear that, Fish?” Lexa cooed at the puppy, who’d settled on gnawing the string
of her hoodie. “You’re ours.”
“You want us to transfer the money to you now, or-“
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
Lexa stayed on the floor with the dog while Clarke went a little ways off to settle
the paperwork. The puppy was so small, so fuzzy and soft and warm and adorable, and
she just could not comprehend any of it. His little nose was so tiny, his tongue so
pink, and even his slobbering puppy kisses didn’t bother her. She’d wanted a puppy
since forever, but her parents hadn’t allowed it, and then it’d just been
inconvenient.
But now she was holding a puppy, _her_ puppy, and it was overwhelmingly adorable.
She loved him so much already, she didn’t even understand it but she did, and the
giggles that left her lips were in no way under her control.
“You wanna let me cuddle the puppy too, or-“
Lexa glanced up at Clarke and smiled. “Maybe.”

Clarke returned her smile and pulled out the collar they’d gotten him. It was light
blue, with ‘Fish’ written in golden block letters atop the leather.
“Hold still, Fish,” Clarke laughed. “Jesus, this dog is about as clingy as you
are.”
“Hey!”
“Am I wrong?”
“I don’t kiss that sloppily.”
“Maybe.” Clarke smirked as she took the dog from Lexa’s hands and snuggled him.
“Alrighty, Fish. You’re coming home with us.”
Lexa put the leash onto him, and he of course tried to bite her hand, and then the
leash – he wasn’t yet used to the collar, or to the leash, and so taking him home
was a challenge on it’s own. In the subway, Lexa held him, but on the streets they
did let him walk. But that of course made their journey last way longer, because
Fish did not yet know how to walk in a leash – he first dragged behind, then
started pulling forward, all the while attempting to tackle every single person on
the streets of New York that he could find.
Clarke was having a field day, watching Lexa try and manage with this little ball
of fur, and laughed heartily at each little face that Lexa made at their dog. But
the roles were switched when Lexa handed her the leash, and she was the one trying
her best to not tackle anyone with the leash as Fish apparently tried his best to
choke himself on the leash.
“Geez,” Clarke sighed when they finally reached their apartment, “He’s a little
monster.”
“We’ll train him.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t think I’m capable of saying no to that adorable face, though.”
Lexa laughed. “Neither am I. We’ll just get Anya to do it. Surely she can keep her
cool.”
But as it turned out, Anya most certainly could not keep her cool around Fish.
In fact, Anya was completely taken by the little dog, and she even cooed at him a
little, surprising not only Clarke and Lexa but also Raven. They had of course
barged into the apartment moments after hearing the puppy had arrived, bearing
gifts as one does – they’d gotten him a little cute bandana, one meant to be worn
around his neck, because, as Raven said, ‘he may look cute but he’s gotta be at
least a lil badass’.
Raven was all cool with Fish. She’d grown up with dogs and was so relaxed with him,
and did not even flinch when his needle-like teeth sank into her hand over and over
again. No, she just grinned and raised his face to hers, and quietly asked him to
let go – miraculously enough, he did, and even looked sorry.
“How can you be so…how can you ignore that squishy face?” Clarke stammered. “I mean
look at him, you almost made him cry!”
“No I didn’t,” Raven laughed. “You gotta learn how to ignore the cute. You can’t
let him run your life.”
“But he’s so cute.”
“I know he is. He’s absolutely adorable.”
“Then how?”
“Easy. Wait till he shits on your favorite carpet. Or even better, wait till you
step into his shit at 2 in the morning.”
“Oh, ew, gross.” Lexa complained. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s gonna happen, trust me.”
“He’s a well-behaved puppy, isn’t he?” Lexa cooed. “Yes, yes you are.”
And then Raven let out a laugh, drawing all the attention to her. “I’m sorry, I
just – god, what are you two going to be like as parents? Lexa’s already head over
heels for this little ball of fur and shit, and Clarke, you’re fawning over the
both of them. It’s adorable, but so sickly sweet I’m going to get cavities.”
“We’ll be great parents,” Lexa declared as she stood up with Fish in her arms,
“We’ll be wonderful.”
Clarke made a face. “I’ll probably fuck up.”
“Clarke, you won’t fuck up.”
“I could-“
“But you won’t.”
“Can we stop talking about our hypothetical babies?” Clarke asked. “I’m 24. It’s
way too early for a baby. I haven’t even got a job…”
“You’ll get a job soon enough.” Lexa reassured her. “And don’t worry. We’re
definitely not having babies anytime soon.”
“Remember, I called dibs on your first born.” Raven reminded them.
“What does that even mean? Are you going to barge into the delivery room and take
our child, or-“
“No, it means that I’m going to be your first born child’s godmother and I’ll be
the coolest godmother in the world.”
“What if we don’t give birth? What if we adopt?”
“Then that child will still be your first. Still applies.”
Anya, who had thus far been petting Fish, spoke up then. “Actually, I called dibs
way before you.”
Raven whirled around and looked at her with a daring twinkle in her eye. “Um, no,
you definitely didn’t.”
“Lexa?” Anya asked. “How about you tell us which one of us is right?”
Lexa made a face. “Sorry, Raven- Anya did call dibs years ago.”
Anya grinned victoriously and tapped Raven’s nose. “That’s right. Seventh grade,
wasn’t it?”
“I was in fifth grade, but yeah.”
“Right.”
“Can’t we co-godparent?” Raven asked. “I’ve already planned out the whole thing –
we’ll get matching leather jackets and I’ll take the kid to Disneyland and I’ll be
all cool and-“
Anya silenced her with a quick kiss. “You’re an idiot.”
“Shut up.”
“You guys are adorable,” Clarke interjected. “Speaking of which – how’s that double
date that we had planned? It’s been ages…”
“Clarke, I’ve been back for less than a week.” Anya pointed out. “But yes, I’d love
to go on a double date. Raven?”
Raven nodded. “Yeah, sure. But you better not take pictures all night or someone’s
going to die.”
“Fine, fine,” Lexa laughed. “So double date it is?”
“Yeah. But maybe in a little while. I’ve got some work things.” Anya sighed. “A lot
of work things, actually. Next week? Friday, maybe?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, I think we’ll take our leave now,” Raven said, tugging at Anya’s hand. “The
little monster looks like he’s about to shit.”
“What?” Lexa asked, turning around to look at Fish, who currently stood in the
middle of the kitchen, walking in circles. “Oh, no-“
Anya and Raven disappeared in the brief mess that ensued afterwards; Fish did
indeed poop on the kitchen floor, and Clarke made faces at the smell.
“Lexa, clean it up.”
“Why me?”
“You’re closer to the paper.”
“That’s literally the worst excuse.”
“Please? It stinks.”
“Clarke, we’ll be picking up his poop all the time.”
“I know, but you gotta start somewhere, right? So go. Do the honors.”
Lexa rolled her eyes and cleaned up the poop, and made a show of chasing Clarke
around for a little while with her ‘stinky’ hands – of course, they didn’t really
smell, but Clarke refused to let her touch her anyway, but Lexa did finally manage
to capture her in a hug and tackle her onto the couch.
“Get off of me, you stinky asshole!” Clarke laughed. “God, you’re just so-“
Lexa captured her lips and cut off whatever she was saying. “Shut up.”
“No.”
Lexa kissed her again. “Shush.”
“Nope.”
The third kiss was interrupted by Fish yapping at them and trying to climb onto the
couch , his tiny little paws clawing at the edge of the couch and failing to bring
him upwards. Lexa sat up to straddle Clarke’s hips as she picked the puppy into her
arms and snuggled him close, a wide smile on her face as she did.
“You know,” Clarke said as she watched Lexa almost completely ignore her in favour
of Fish, “I think we do have a baby right now. Look at him, all cradled in your
arms.”
“Oh shut up.”
“I’m serious. Look at him. We’re cleaning up his shit, feeding him, taking him on
walks and we’re never alone-“
“Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, of course not. He’s fucking adorable.”
“I love him already.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, don’t say you don’t fall easily, because you do.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good.”
“After all, you did fall for me after like four hours of talking…”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did!”
“I swear I did not.”
“ _I think I’ve already fallen_ ,” Clarke quoted, “That’s what you said.”
“But you said that you were like 90% sure you were falling-“
“Still. You’d fallen.”
“Why are you making this a competition?”
“I’m not,” Clarke hummed as she sat up and wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist,
“I’m just saying you’re a romantic sap with a heart bigger than the world.”
“Perhaps.”
“It’s adorable.”
“Shut up.”
Lexa was blushing, and Clarke couldn’t resist leaning in over Fish’s head to kiss
her. Of course, Fish felt like he had to participate, and so he began licking
Clarke’s chin, causing giggles to escape her lips.
“Fish, I love you, but there’s no way you’re getting in on any threesome action.”
Lexa snorted. “God, no. That’s just wrong.”
“You think we should take him for a walk?”
“Won’t he get tired? We just walked a lot.”
“Do you see this puppy? I don’t think he’ll ever run out of energy. Ever.”
Lexa laughed when Fish almost did a full somersault running out of her arms and
onto the floor to chase his own tail, as though he’d heard Clarke’s comment and
felt the need to prove it.
“We’ve gotten ourselves a nightmare.”
“An adorable nightmare,” Clarke reminded her. “That we both love.”
“Yes, yes. But this time, you’re picking up the poop.”
> lexa&puppies is the best combination ever (might even beat lexa&candles)
60. Chapter 60
> k so i said there'd be angst

> but you get sin instead
> its not like any of you will riot or anything, right?
Two weeks passed, and they settled into a comfortable routine with the newest
addition to their family. Fish had his own little bed downstairs near the door, and
it was usually Clarke who walked him in the mornings – while Lexa did make an
effort, Clarke did soon realize that Lexa had a lot more to do in the mornings
before work, whereas she was still unemployed and had all the time in the world.
And so it was usually that when Clarke returned from walking Fish, Lexa was either
almost leaving or already gone. If she was still there, Clarke gave her a goodbye
kiss. If she’d already left, she’d usually left Clarke a cute little note on the
kitchen counter.
That morning, it’d been the latter. Clarke came back and after putting her coat
away, walked into the kitchen to find a note on the table, which read:
_So sorry I had to run. Maybe you could come by for lunch?_
Clarke grinned widely and set the note down, an idea already brewing in her
head. And so at midday she entered the P&R offices with a bag of takeout in her
hand, clad in neat clothes and the one skirt she _knew_ drove Lexa wild, her face
all done nicely and looking her absolute best. She nodded at the receptionist, who
smiled and told her Lexa was in her office, and then went her way.
When she stepped into Lexa’s office, she wasn’t surprised at all to find her buried
in a mountain of paperwork. She had her reading glasses on, resting near the tip of
her nose in the manner that she did when she was really trying to focus, and she
was chewing her lip in concentration, looking as adorable as ever. She didn’t even
notice Clarke had come in, or that she'd locked the door, not until Clarke took a
few more steps towards her and cleared her throat.
“Lexa?”
Lexa looked up, and upon seeing Clarke, smiled. “Hey. Is it lunchtime already?”
“Why else would I be here?” Clarke asked her. “Put your work away, let’s eat.”
Lexa put her glasses away and put the piles of paper on the side of her desk while
Clarke dragged the chair from one side of the desk to face her. “I got you a
salad,” she said as she handed Lexa the bag, “And myself a sub. But if you want the
sandwich, feel free-“
“I could eat both, to be honest.” Lexa sighed. “I didn’t have time for a proper
breakfast this morning.”
“Then eat both.”
“Won’t you get hungry?”
“Ok, I’ll eat half of my sub and you can have the rest. How about that?”
“But-“
“Lexa, I can go home and eat more. You’re stuck here, so dig in.”
It didn’t take Lexa long to scarf down her lunch, leaving Clarke with plenty of
time to do what she’d actually come there for. She stood up without a word, her
hands going to her front to slowly start unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing. She
made eye contact with Lexa, who was staring at her hands – or, well, she was
staring more at the cleavage that each undone button was revealing, and Clarke
could tell that she was growing aroused.
“Clarke, what-“
“We’ve got forty-five minutes,” Clarke purred as she undid the last button and
shrugged her shirt off, “And you’ve been so busy. I miss you.”
Lexa swallowed hard as Clarke pulled her chair closer and climbed into her lap,
straddling her hips as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s neck and leaned in for a
kiss.
“But here-?”
Clarke hummed and hissed her roughly, and Lexa almost gave in completely. “Why not
here?” Clarke asked, but did not wait for Lexa’s answer before her lips returned to
hers again. “Give me a good reason why not.”
Lexa stammered to find a reply. “Uh…”
“Don’t you want me?”
“Of course I do, but someone could hear-“
Clarke smirked. “I can try to be quiet. Can you?”
That was a challenge Lexa couldn’t resist. No, she stood up abruptly, carrying
Clarke with ease as her lips claimed Clarke’s with a renewed hunger almost equal to
Clarke’s. “Of course I can,” she murmured against her lips, “I’m not so sure you
can.”
She sat Clarke onto her desk, and pulled away from her lips to find Clarke looking
at her daringly.
“So gag me, then.”
Lexa’s jaw actually dropped when she heard that, and Clarke chuckled lightly before
kissing her yet again.
“Are you serious?”
In answer to Lexa’s question, Clarke undid her tie and put it in her hands. “Try
me.”
Lexa pulled Clarke even closer to her, her hands pulling her hips against hers, one
hand running up her thigh and under her skirt. Clarke was wearing a loose skirt,
giving Lexa almost full access, and she grinned when she felt Clarke had worn her
favorite underwear.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” She hummed, her hand rubbing at Clarke’s wet heat
over the panties. “The skirt, the underwear…”
“Yes, I did,” Clarke sighed, moving her hips against Lexa’s hand. “Now get to the
point and either fuck me or let me fuck you, we’re on the clock.”
“Wasn’t I supposed to gag you?” Lexa asked almost innocently. “You’d think that
gave me the control…”
Clarke groaned. “Lexa-“
“Open your mouth.”
Clarke did, and Lexa put the tie in her mouth, tying it behind her head gently as
she began littering kisses down along Clarke’s jaw. “Now shush,”she murmured as she
pushed Clarke onto her back on her desk, “Let me fuck you.”
The visual of the tie in Clarke’s mouth was more than enough to make Lexa feel like
she’d lose her mind, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand; she had
Clarke, sprawled out on her desk, her skirt raised up over her hips and a gag in
her mouth, breathing heavily and just _watching_ her, waiting for Lexa to do as she
pleased.
She leaned over Clarke and slowly lowered herself down to enclose her lips around a
nipple as she ran her hand up Clarke’s thigh, her fingers running gently along her
skin until they reached her sex, meeting dripping wetness that had soaked the
fabric of Clarke’s underwear entirely. In an instant, Lexa had pulled the panties
off, and spread Clarke’s legs a little wider as her tongue danced along sensitive
skin whilst her lips sucked, drawing little sighs from Clarke’s lips.
Two fingers entered Clarke almost tentatively, but even that slight action made
Clarke moan – Lexa almost felt guilty for not paying as much attention to her in
the past days as she clearly should’ve, seeing her so in need and wanting just for
the slightest of touches. It was true that she’d been busy, and too stressed to
care for intimacy – the one time that week that they’d tried, she’d just not been
in the mood. Clarke had understood.
But now she had Clarke there, and she’d never been more aroused as she was now; she
wanted this, wanted her, and most of all, she wanted to satisfy her wife.
And so she began fucking her with her fingers pumping in and out of her, all the
while her lips and teeth ran along Clarke’s skin, leaving visible marks. She’d seen
Clarke had brought a scarf, and couldn't help but marvel at her preparedness.
Obviously she’d known to expect Lexa to leave marks.
The tie in Clarke’s mouth effectively stifled most of her moans and whimpers,
leaving only the slightest of sounds to escape – Lexa knew her office was
relatively sound proof, and was more glad than ever that the door was locked. She
didn’t have to worry about someone barging in, and so was able to focus on Clarke
and Clarke's pleasure.
Clarke’s wetness covered not only her fingers but her hand, too. Clarke’s whimpers
were all that Lexa really heard. Clarke’s skin was all her lips felt, and the
quiver of her breath beneath her as she neared her climax was all that mattered to
Lexa.
Clarke moaned Lexa’s name into the gag when she came, her muscles tightening around
Lexa’s fingers and her hands gripping the edge of the desk tightly so to keep her
from completely losing her grip. Lexa watched her, her fingers slowly helping
Clarke ride out her orgasm, and was in complete awe of just how spent and fucked
she’d managed to make Clarke in only the span of twenty minutes. The loose bun her
hair had been in had fallen out, leaving her hair sprawled out around her in a
mess, and her lips were pink and swollen around the gag.
When Clarke had lied on the table for a good while, just breathing heavily, Lexa
leaned over her and undid the gag. Her tie was effectively wet with Clarke’s saliva
where it’d been in her mouth, and was certainly not fit for use any longer. But her
concern for her ruined tie was discarded when Clarke sat up, wrapping her legs
around her waist and pulling her in for a kiss so rough her lips tingled at the
force.
“That was hot,” Clarke murmured, “So hot.”
Lexa hummed. “You’re beautiful.”
“You sap.” Clarke chuckled. “Now sit down and let me take care of you.”
Clarke had the control.
Most times, Clarke had the control. Lexa loved it that way, and Clarke did too.
She wasn’t even sure at what point she’d lost her shirt, only that she sat down
clad only in a bra and a skirt, and the skirt was soon hiked up to her waist, her
underwear gone in an instant; she raised her legs over Clarke’s shoulders as Clarke
buried her face between her thighs and ran her tongue along her wetness, a stifled
gasp leaving Lexa’s lips when she did. Upon hearing the gasp, Clarke stopped
immediately and looked at her with a smirk on her lips, and Lexa bit back a
whimper, wanting her to just keep going.
“Didn’t we agree we’d be quiet?”
Lexa rolled her eyes. “Shut up and don’t stop.”
She bit down on her tongue as Clarke returned her lips to her sex, her tongue
dancing skilfully in just the ways that made her want to moan and whimper. But Lexa
didn’t whimper or moan, no – she bit on her tongue, and then later her hand, to
keep silent as she was worked up to an orgasm, pleasure washing over her in waves.
But as she neared her climax, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Instead, she
brought one hand down to grab at Clarke’s hair, keeping her there and keeping her
feeling like she maybe wouldn’t slip away entirely when she did finally reach her
climax. But Clarke didn’t let her go so easily – no, just as Lexa neared her
finish, she changed what she was doing, effectively ruining Lexa's concentration
and drawing a disappointed whimper from Lexa's lips.
“Fuck, Clarke,” Lexa whispered, “Fucking-”
Clarke didn’t stop, only added in her fingers, and Lexa’s hand in her hair curled
even tighter as her mouth opened as though for a moan; but she managed to keep
silent, all the way through the buildup of heat and pleasure until her back arched
and she bit down on her lip to silence the moan. She came quickly, and it was so
good - too good, even, it was almost impossible for her to be quiet, not when
Clarke was making her feel like this. Her climax ran through her veins and drew her
into a state of pure ecstasy, one in which nothing else mattered but Clarke –
Clarke, who was still in between her thighs, still licking, still sucking, still
fucking her, still pleasuring her even through her climax.
It was all good and pleasurable, but then Lexa’s climax came back down and it all
became far too intense. She pulled Clarke back up then, and Clarke leaned in close
to kiss her, a smug grin plastered on her face.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” She asked as she pulled her shirt back on and began
buttoning it up. “An efficient lunch, wouldn’t you say?”
Lexa was still laying in her chair, basically naked and completely spent, just
watching sadly as more and more of Clarke’s skin was covered by clothes. “Amazing.
You’re amazing.”
Clarke grinned. “Of course I am. Now get dressed, your lunch hour ends in like a
minute.”
That got Lexa moving. She stood up and pulled her skirt back down, and then dressed
herself again, allowing Clarke to tie her hair up in a bun at the nape of her neck
to make it look like she hadn’t just gotten thoroughly fucked.
“You need perfume?” Clarke asked.
“You came prepared.”
Clarke grinned as she wrapped the scarf around her neck to conceal the hickey’s
Lexa had left on her skin. “Yes, I did. But just so you know, you smell entirely
like-“
“Fine, fine, yes, I want perfume.”
Once Lexa was all dolled up and looking not-fucked once again, Clarke gave her one
last chaste kiss before practically skipping away, feeling more proud of herself
than ever. On her way home, there was a strut in her step, and when she closed the
door and was welcomed by Fish, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled
it out, pushing Fish out of her face long enough to see it was a text from Lexa,
and smiled before she even knew what it read.
**Lexa (13:37)**
_Expect me to continue where we left off when I get home._
> i promised office sin like a month ago and it's FINALLY HERE
> y'all are wel(cum) lmao im hilarious
> but the angst and drama is coming so prep your hearts for that my lovelies
61. Chapter 61
> TW: there's mentions of suicide
Lexa hurried her way through her remaining work for the day, and finished at just
five p.m. Indra was very pleased with her work, and clapped her on the back before
reminding her that they should discuss the move to San Francisco more after the
weekend. Lexa smiled, and nodded, and then hurried into the elevator, itching to
get home to Clarke.
She’d made it about ten steps from the door when she was stopped by a hand grabbing
her arm. She whirled around to find herself face to face with the one person she
really did not want to see, and froze immediately.
“Get off of me,” she hissed, shaking the hand off of her. “Leave me be.”
Her uncle did no such thing, but he did let go of her hand. People passed them on
both sides, and Lexa realized quickly that he’d planned this – he had probably been
waiting for her, preying on her like she was something to pounce on, and the fact
that he’d had the nerve to _touch_ her angered her most of all.
“I won’t bother you for long, Alexandria,” Titus said calmly. “I enjoy this as much
as you do.”
“Really? I’d think you loved being your brother’s messenger.”
“Had you not made it so that they had no legal right to have any contact with you,
I would not be here.”
Lexa glared at him. “Do they not understand that I _do not want_ any contact with
them?”
Titus did not appear phased at the angry tone of Lexa’s voice. Of course he wasn’t
– he was the most stoic of them all, apparently impervious to any emotions
whatsoever. It was no surprise that he had never married, or sustained any friendly
relationships with anyone. Even his relationship to his brother and his family was
strictly business, and in his work as a priest he was strict and never faltered. He
never made mistakes. He never wasted words. What he said he believed was not only
true but law – he believed he knew what God wanted, he lived as though he were the
reincarnation of His word, and never wasted an opportunity to remind a sinner of
their sinful ways.
“They are your family, Alexandria. Your folly has lasted long enough.”
“My life is not a folly.”
“That may be what you see now, but I’m here to remind you of what your life will
eventually lead to.”
“What, you’re going to take me on a day trip to Hell?”
“No. Take this.”
He offered Lexa a piece of paper, but Lexa made no move to take it.
“What is it?” She asked.
“Take it.”
“Not until you tell me what it is.”
“It is an address.”
“Of what?”
“Of your past…love.”
Lexa froze. “What?”
“Costia, that was her name, right?”
Lexa snatched the paper from him and glared. “You have no right to speak her name.”
“You might want to visit.”
“And why would I want that?”
“It’s a long-term care facility,” Titus said, almost aloof in his tone. “She is not
well.”
“Why would my parents care about her?”
“Go and visit her. She misses you, I’m sure.”
Lexa clenched her jaw and glared daggers at her uncle. “Leave me alone.”
She was surprised that he turned on his heel and left, just like that, leaving her
standing amidst a mass of people returning home with a paper in her hand.
She glanced at the paper and saw the facility was not far off.
She wondered how quickly she could visit. No matter how long it had been, she
couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in her heart upon imagining Costia in any
way hurt. She no longer loved her, no, that had long since passed – but Costia had
been important to her. She'd been her life at some point, and now, thinking Costia
might be hurt, Lexa couldn't help but feel like she _had_ to go. She hadn't seen
Costia in years.
She shot Clarke a text before she stepped inside the doors of the facility.
**Lexa (17:57)**
_Work ran long again. Will be late. Love you._
She walked in and politely asked the receptionist after Costia, and after a little
while she was directed to the third floor.
She stepped into the elevator and saw the labels on each floor, and her stomach
dropped when she read what the third floor was designated for.
_3 rd floor – coma ward_
Her heart quivered when she saw those words, and her hand actually shook when she
pressed the button to go up. From the mirror she saw her face had gone ghastly
pale, and when the doors opened, she barely managed her way to the room she’d been
directed to.
She stepped in, and her heart stopped for the briefest of moments.
There, on the bed, lay a woman who she easily recognized as Costia. Although she
was significantly older, all grown up now, she still had the same black frizzy hair
and high brow, the same chocolatey skin and plump lips – no, there was no doubt in
Lexa’s mind that this was Costia.
This was the girl she'd fallen for, all grown up, but still looking the same in
some form - Lexa could see the Costia she remembered in the features of this woman,
in the curves of her lips and the angles of her face, in the slender arms and the
soft skin. This was the girl who'd changed her life. This was the girl who she'd
fallen for, whose heart she'd had for that brief moment, the girl who'd first shown
her happiness.
This was the girl who'd first shown her what true pain was. This was the girl, no,
this was the woman whose absence had introduced Lexa to the world of heartache and
sorrow, of endless tears and dull, throbbing pain that never truly ceased.
Costia had been so much to her, and now here she was, watching her lie in a
hospital bed, looking broken and tiny and barely even alive. She reminded Lexa of a
statue, of a life-size statue of a sleeping Costia, one which she dared not
disturb.
She stood there, near the door, unsure of what to do or say for a very long while.
But then she saw movement from the corner of her eye and looked to the side to find
Titus standing here. Anger boiled up within her again, mixing with the sorrow and
shock that had entered her heart upon seeing Costia, and she mustered up all her
fury to stand behind her words.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Titus shrugged off her anger and walked a few steps towards her, looking smug as
ever. “Do you want to know what happened?”
His eyes were fixed on Costia’s sleeping form, and Lexa returned her gaze there too
– she couldn’t help but feel pain when she noticed the breathing tube going into
her mouth, or the various tubes and wires that were attached to her. She looked
frail, barely alive at all, and she wanted nothing more than to know.
But she didn’t want to admit that to her uncle.
“After her family was driven away because of you, her father lost his mind.
Committed suicide not a year later. Shot himself right in the head.”
Lexa stared at Titus and half wanted to wrangle him there and then. But she’d
noticed the security camera when she’d walked in, and knew it was not wise to do so
when there was a chance she was being recorded.
“She found him, I believe. Of course, none of her family could ever support
themselves after the scandal, and after a few years of trying to make it, she tried
to commit suicide too. She failed, leaving her like this. Your parents were
generous enough to provide the payment for her treatment, though there obviously is
no chance of any recovery. She is, in essence, brain dead.”
Lexa bit her lip to not cry – the guilt rose within her as though from nowhere, and
for a moment she couldn’t even breathe.
“This is your fault, Alexandria. You know this.”
Lexa would’ve snapped at him were she not focused on keeping her composure.
“You destroyed her life. Do not make the same mistake with Clarke.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lexa finally managed. “Why?”
“This is not a lifestyle that you want to choose, Alexandria,” Titus said lowly.
“There is still time to make amends. Your parents are willing-“
“Willing!?” Lexa snapped. “Willing? No, they’re not willing to do anything. They
think they can just- no, no way. I’m not even going to listen to you-“
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, and did not even bother to wait
for the elevator – no, she rushed down the stairs and out of the building, thinking
fresh air could calm her rushing heart. But it didn’t, no, nothing could ease the
panic and disgust and guilt that she felt in that moment, and she was only half in
her senses when she climbed into yet another cab and muttered an address that was
not her home.
* * *
Clarke waited for Lexa until way past midnight, and intended to stay up later. But
her exhaustion got the best of her, and she knocked out on the couch, only to wake
four hours later to blaring sunlight and an empty apartment. There was no sign of
Lexa anywhere, nor were there any texts or calls. She tried calling Lexa, but the
number was disconnected. She tried texting her, thinking she was maybe pulling an
allnighter, but received no answer.
“Where the hell are you, Lexa?” She practically yelled into the phone, but it was
of no use. She called the office, but when she heard the receptionist tell her that
Lexa had left at five the day before, she practically broke down right there and
then. But she didn’t, no – she kept trying, kept calling and sending texts and
calling the office again to ask if she’d maybe come back, but after half an hour
there was yet to be any word from or of Lexa.
Clarke was pacing now, worry and anger mixing in her mind, and after a while
decided it was no use to just stand around doing nothing. She stormed out of the
apartment and rang Raven’s doorbell, and promptly barged in the instant the door
was opened.
“Clarke, what-“
“Where’s Anya?”
Raven stared at Clarke for awhile, still trying to wake up, and gestured vaguely
towards the bedroom. “Let me wake her up, she’ll murder you if you try.”
“Hurry the fuck up, Raven-“
Raven nodded and hurried back into the bedroom, and after a little while Anya
emerged. Clarke didn’t even care that she was only clad in a robe, or that she
looked particularly murderous that morning – no, she started rambling, the words
just spilling out of her, so fast that Anya had to shush her twice before she could
bring herself to stop.
“Lexa’s missing?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“She sent me a text before six last night. Anya, god, what if she’s-“
“She’s fine.” Anya said sternly. “She’s fine.”
“She’s not answering _any_ of my texts or calls!” Clarke snapped. “I can’t help but
be worried-“
“She’s not stupid. Go home, go to sleep. You look like hell.”
Clarke glared at her. “No way I’m doing any of that."
Anya’s expression softened, but she did not waver with her demands. “Go rest. I’m
going to find Lexa.”
“I’m coming with.”
Anya made a face. “You need to stay here, in case she comes back.”
“But why- what’s happened? Did I do something?”
Anya sighed. “No, Clarke, I’m sure you didn’t. Did you fight?”
“No-?”
“Then you didn’t do anything. Go home, make yourself a cup of tea, and try to rest.
Paint or something. I’ll bring Lexa back in one piece, I promise.”
Clarke trembled slightly, and Anya took her hand into hers and actually smiled.
“Clarke. She’s fine. There’s only so many places she could go. I’ll find her.”
“But what if she got mugged, or-“
“There’s no point in speculating. She might’ve just needed a breather. Maybe she
got overwhelmed. It happens sometimes.”
“She’s never talked about that.”

Anya wished Clarke wasn’t so good at paying attention, because her lies were not
great as they were. “She probably thought it wouldn’t happen with you.”
It was a lie that Lexa needed breathers. Lexa had never disappeared like this, not
in the manner Anya was leading Clarke to believe. There was only one way Lexa
disappeared, and Anya prayed sorely that she was right.
She also prayed that she wasn't right. She didn't want to think that Lexa had gone
down that road again.
She managed to talk Clarke down and get her to go back home, and the instant
the door closed, she stormed into the bedroom to find Raven trying to go back to
sleep.
“Get up.”
Raven groaned. “No.”
“Raven, Lexa’s missing, Clarke’s this close to breaking completely, and we need to
go get Lexa before she does something stupid. Get up.”
Raven shot up then. “What?”
“Lexa’s missing.”
“I got that part. But Clarke-?”
“You talked to her. Didn’t you notice?”
“I was asleep!”
“Raven, she nearly _cried!_ ”
Raven was up now, pulling on clothes and rushing about to try and find a hairtie.
“Fuck, fuck. Shit. This isn’t good, is it?”
Anya sighed. “No, it isn’t. We need your car, and I need you to drive.”
“My car? Where-“
“There’s only one place that I can think of where Lexa would go.”
“But _why_ is she missing?”
Anya sighed again and rubbed at her temples. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, it
can’t be good.”
“But you know where to find her?”
“Maybe?”
“Okay, slow down. You’re not telling me everything.”
“I think something happened and Lexa’s trying to escape.”
“Escape-?”
“Escape.”
“That doesn’t sound- wait, hold on. Is this like that night when she crashed the
car?”
Anya nodded, and Raven cursed.
“Shit. But what could’ve happened? Clarke didn’t do anything, did she?”
“No, she didn’t. Now come on. We need to get Lexa before Clarke worries herself to
death.”
> oops another cliffhanger

> told ya there'd be drama
62. Chapter 62
> once again, TW: suicide
“Anya, seriously, you’re not telling me everything.”
Anya glanced at Raven briefly before pointing at a sign. “Follow that.”
“Where are we even going?”
“Long Island.”
“I can tell that much, but where there-?”
“A motel.”
“A motel?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s where Lexa is?”
Anya sighed. “She’s either there, or she’s dead.”
“Ok, that’s way too morbid. She’s not dead.”
“No, she’s not. I’m sure of it.”
“But what could’ve happened? Clarke told me she and Lexa had a wonderful lunch, and
by the looks of the hickeys on her heck, that sure was true…” Raven began. “I don’t
get it.”
“I don’t either. But something happened, and we need to find her.”
“I’m driving as fast as I can, Anya. Can you try calling her again?”
“If she’s not answering Clarke, I highly doubt she’ll answer me.”
Raven turned a corner and Anya sighed again. “It’s the third road on the left, turn
there.”
They drove through an apparently abandoned neighbourhood, situated right next to
the highway on one side and the sea stretched out on another. It was shabby and
colorless, and there was absolutely no one in sight. Raven was surprised to find
them suddenly before a motel, colorless as any other building around it, a hideous
neon sign standing in the middle of the yard which read “The North Star Inn – rooms
for rent”
“This is the place?” Raven asked incredulously. “Why-?”
“It’s where she comes when she needs space.” Anya said quietly. “Park here.”
“But why here?”
“Do you see anyone around?” Anya asked. When Raven shook her head, she smirked and
continued: “That’s why. This is so far from everywhere, she can just come here and
not worry about running into anyone.”
“Then how do you know about it?”
“I might’ve brought her here the first time.”
Raven looked at her in confusion. “Wait, what?”
“I found this place first. It was quiet and away from everything, and cheap, and
the liquor store around the corner never carded me, so…whenever Lexa was around and
needed a breather, she’d go around and get all messed up. So one time I brought her
here and she liked it more. There’s no one here to recognize her and tattle to her
parents.”
“So…”
“She might be drunk, Raven. I want you to know that.”
“Okay.”
“She’s…she’s been okay. She never really made it into a habit, thank god, but some
instances…”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But let’s go.”
They got out of the car and Anya stormed off to the reception, and emerged not a
moment later with a room key and a relieved look on her face.
“She’s here, thank god,” she sighed to Raven who was leaning against her car. “She
came here around eight last night. The receptionist didn’t know anything else. I
covered her bill, but- we need to go. Or I need to go. Can you wait here?”
Raven nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need.”
Anya sighed, and took a few breaths before turning on her heel and hurrying off
towards the stairs that led to the second floor of the rooms. The room she found
with ease, and took a moment to just take a breath and prepare herself before she
slid the key into the lock and opened the door.
She’d expected to find a drunken Lexa, a messy, stumbling chaos of tears and
slurred curses, of stumbled steps and hazy eyes - and so she was stunned into
silence when she encountered the exact opposite of that. There, on the floor, sat
Lexa – her back was against the bed, knees brought up to her chest, her eyes fixed
on a bottle of vodka, yet unopened, sitting on the floor before her. She did not
move when Anya came in, and were it not for the little twitch in her shoulders when
Anya closed the door, she could’ve sworn Lexa didn’t even know she was there.
It was so quiet it was almost scary.
There were tears on her cheeks, silent, pained tears, and her mascara was smeared
around eyes that were red and raw from all the tears she’d evidently shed. Her grip
of her arm was so tight, nails digging into skin so hard Anya knew there’d be
marks, but she did not make a sound. She looked both broken and whole, like an
explosion waiting to happen, and Anya walked over as carefully as she could. Though
the bottle in front of her looked untouched, she couldn’t be so sure that there
hadn’t been other ones.
A drunken Lexa, one in emotional distress as Lexa obviously was in that instant,
was volatile to say the least. Lexa was never physical, never dared to even lay a
hand on her, but she did become even more unstable with each drink that she downed.
It was so different from the drunkenness she got when she was happy and with
friends – this was not for leisure or for fun. This was to forget, to make the pain
go away, and Anya prayed to every god she knew that Lexa hadn’t gone down that
road.
Her voice was quiet and careful when she spoke.
“Lexa?”
Lexa did not acknowledge her, did not even move her eyes to look at her. Anya
carefully picked up the bottle and took it to the bathroom and she began pouring it
away, looking at it in disgust but more than glad to find that the bottle had been
unopened. There were no other bottles so far as she could see, nor had there been
any in the room, and she began to believe that perhaps Lexa hadn’t drank a drop
after all.
A quiet whimper was all that it took for her to leave the bottle on the counter and
hurry back into the room to find Lexa crying, still as quiet as one could be, but
now her face was buried in her hands, her entire body trembling with the sobs that
wrecked their way through. Anya sat down beside her, and carefully wrapped an arm
around her shoulders, allowing Lexa to lean against her, and she cradled her head
against her shoulder as gently as she could. She’d never seen Lexa this small, this
devastated, and felt both furious and pained to see her like so – she wanted to
find out what had happened and make it right, wanted to end Lexa’s tears and just
have her smiling and happy again.
She knew it was of no use to ask questions now. This wasn’t the first time she’d
seen Lexa like this, and certainly not the first time she’d come to this motel to
retrieve her; no, Anya was accustomed to this, and so she knew that what Lexa
needed now was silence and to be held.
She’d speak when she was ready.
It took a while for Lexa to stop trembling, and even longer for her to stop crying.
But she was still in pain, and her grip of her arm hadn’t eased at all – Anya then
placed a hand atop hers, and gently wrapped it with her own, drawing it away from
her arm. She flinched slightly upon seeing that Lexa’s short nails had managed to
pierce skin, and that tiny beads of blood pushed through when they were drawn away.
She then pulled the sleeve of Lexa’s shirt down and took extra care to button the
cuff, and all the while Lexa just watched her, silently, as Anya took care of her.
Anya always took care of her. They took care of each other, they always did, and
Lexa almost teared up at how caring and gentle Anya was being with her in that
moment. Anya held her hand, her slender fingers gently tracing her skin, and she
just waited, her eyes watching her with nothing but patience and understanding.
There was no judgement, only concern- Anya cared not for what Lexa had done, only
that she could get better again.
“Lexa…” she began quietly, not sure what she’d say but knowing she had to say
something. “Lexa, please. Talk to me.”
Lexa shook her head, instead fixing her gaze on a spot on the carpet a few feet
from them and pursing her lips tightly.
“At least say something.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
A whimper left Lexa’s lips, and Anya felt her heart shrivel up in pain. She turned
her eyes away from Lexa and rested her head against the bed, her hand stroking
Lexa’s arm gently as she waited. “Lexa, please…tell me what happened.”
She heard a sharp breath being withdrawn, and looked to her side to find Lexa still
staring at the carpet, eyes now full of tears that were just waiting to fall.
“Costia, she…"
"Costia?"
"She's in a coma, Anya."
Anya furrowed her brows. “Where’d-how did you even-“
"She tried to kill herself.”
"What? Lexa, where- who told you this?"
“Titus showed up, and told me where she was – Anya, I didn’t even think, he told me
she was in a long-term care facility and I just- god, I didn’t even _think_ , I
just had to go, I thought about waiting till tomorrow but I couldn’t, I couldn’t…I
had to know. I had to see—“
“See what? Lexa, what happened to Costia?”
Lexa let out a shaky breath and wiped away tears. “She attempted suicide six years
ago.”
Her words were only barely more than a whimper, but Anya understood them
nevertheless.
“Six years?”
“Her father committed suicide first, and I don’t even know about her mom- but she…
Costia, she…tried to kill herself, and failed, and now she’s in a coma and my
parents are paying for her treatment and I just- god, Anya, I can’t stop thinking
about…”
Anya sighed. She knew what Lexa was thinking about.

“It’s not going to happen to Clarke, you know that.”
“But what if it does!?” Lexa cried. “What if I’ve ruined her life, what if- what if
we do lose all our properties, because you know they won’t stop there – they’ll sue
us for more, they’ll strip us of our last penny and leave us bare and homeless, and
I can’t- no, I won’t let that happen to Clarke, I can’t-“
“Lexa, stop. Just stop.”
Anya’s tone of voice was stern, and Lexa faltered into silence.
“Clarke’s not going to try and commit suicide and end up in a coma.”
“But-“
“No buts, just listen. You’re right about one thing. You didn’t think. This is
exactly what your parents wanted to happen – you, wrecking yourself over guilt that
isn’t even yours, you did _nothing_ wrong – all you ever did was love Costia, all
the bad things that happened to her after are your parents fault, and theirs alone.
You didn’t think this through, and it was stupid, you went there even though you
knew that’s exactly what they wanted of you. They wanted to break you, to hurt you,
and clearly they succeeded and I swear to God I'll kill them for it. And Clarke’s
not going to go out and try and kill herself and end up in a coma because your
parents may or may not ruin your lives. You have to know that.”
“But, Anya- just let me talk, okay?” Lexa said quietly. “Please.”
Anya sighed and rested her head against Lexa’s. “Fine.”
“I- I told Clarke we’d be fine. I told her there wasn’t anything to worry about,
but I lied, and now- I lied to her, Anya, I’m so worried sometimes I can’t even
breathe, and all the extra work I’ve been doing is a lie, too- I’ve been trying to
find any loopholes in their case, any way that they wouldn’t win, but…”
Anya groaned. “Oh, Christ, Lexa.”
“Anya, I’m scared.”
Anya searched for the words to say for a long while. “You have every right to be.
But you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not scared for me. I’m scared for Clarke. I don’t- I don’t want to lose her,
but I don’t want to ruin her life, too-“
“Lexa. You’re not ruining her life. If your parents strip you of your home and your
money, it’s not your fault. You’re not doing _anything_ to Clarke but being
perfect, except right now that you’re probably giving her endless worries because
you haven’t responded to any of her calls or texts-“
“My phone died.”
“And that’s not a lie?”
Lexa nodded. “I swear. I- it’s dead. Is she okay? Is she- god, Anya, I’ve fucked
up, please tell me Clarke's okay.”
“Yes, you have. But it’s okay. Clarke's worried, but once we get you home, she'll
be fine.”
“I’m so worried.”
“Of course you are. But you’ll be fine, I promise. Even if you lose your properties
and money, you can come live with me. I make enough, and I have savings.”
“We couldn’t possibly- no, Anya, I can’t put Clarke through this.“
“No, you just shut up for a second,” Anya said. “You’ve spent all night in your
head and I’m drawing you out, because what you think is wrong. You think your love
is toxic. I know you do, you’ve thought that ever since Costia and even with Clarke
I know you still worry about it. And I understand that. But Lexa, please, for the
love of God, don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about leaving Clarke to save
her from having her life ruined.”
Lexa let out a sigh. “No, that’s not an option- I wish it was, but she- she loves
me. And I love her. And I- if she didn’t care for me like she does, I’d gladly
leave and let her live a happy life, but…I can’t, Anya. I can’t think of a single
way where I could spare her from my parents and not break her heart.”
“Then don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t you go breaking her heart, Lexa, because if you do, you’ll surely shatter
your own. You'll absolutely break yourself if you even try.” Anya said sternly.
“Don’t you even think about it. You’re being an idiot right now, and I am so happy
you didn’t drink – or did you?”
Lexa shook her head. “I was going to, but then I thought of Clarke, and I just
couldn’t-”
“Good. That’s good. And also- how can you even _think_ that Clarke could live a
happy life without you? Do you even- no, nevermind. I _know_ you know that’s not
true.”
Lexa didn’t say anything.
“Now you’re going to come with me and come home to Clarke, and you’re going to be
honest with her about everything – I don’t care if she cries, or if she’s hurt, but
you can’t keep things like that from her. Tell her what you’re afraid of.” Anya
told Lexa. “I love you, but you’re being an idiot, and I get that- I get why you’re
thinking what you are, but you need to understand that your mind is clouded by hurt
and pain and probably anger, too, and you need to go home to Clarke and explain it
all to her.”
“I didn’t go home because I needed to clear my head, but it’s even messier than
before- I can’t go back, not until I know what to say.”
“You’ll know what to say.”
“I lied to her, Anya. I kept something from her when I promised I wouldn’t, I-“
“You made a mistake. Possibly a big one, but trust me, Clarke will be fine. She
wants you to come home. You haven’t answered a single call, a single text – she’s
worried sick. She’s been calling Raven non-stop ever since we left, so-”
Panic entered Lexa’s eyes then, and she darted to her feet so quick the whole room
spun. Her legs were numb from having been in the same position all night, and she
would’ve fallen over were it not for Anya catching her.
“Not that fast, I promised her I’d bring you back in one piece,” Anya muttered.
“Now come on. Let’s go home.”
Lexa nodded. "Yes. Please."
* * *
When Raven saw the two of them walk out of the room, she let out a sigh of relief
and felt almost faint at the stress just leaving her body. She whipped out her
phone and quickly shot off a text to Clarke, a short one that read:
_Lexa’s fine. We’re coming home._
She pocketed her phone and went over to the two women making their way to the car,
and together with Anya they got Lexa into the back seat. Anya sat in the back with
Lexa, and Raven started the car the instant the doors were shut, hurrying their way
home to Clarke.
She got a very brief summary of what had happened, but already that summary had her
fuming. Had Anya not been so preoccupied by Lexa sobbing into her shoulder, she
would’ve noticed that Raven was practically trembling at the sheer force of her
anger, that her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly it surely
should've broken off from the effort.
Raven was furious. She’d tolerated Lexa’s parents as they were, knowing there was
little she could do, but just the thought of that snivelling bald man going
anywhere near Lexa made her feel nauseous – she cursed herself for not punching him
out when she’d had the chance, and wanted nothing more but to get in a good few
strikes at his face. But she knew she couldn’t do that – she knew Clarke
was equally as angry, if not even more, and knew Anya was too, and realized then
that this wasn’t going to stop.
Lexa’s parents wouldn’t stop. They’d always find ways to come at Clarke and Lexa,
and though Raven was not directly affected by them, she suffered at their hands
too. She suffered because she hated seeing Clarke so worried, loathed seeing Lexa
so broken – she felt pain each time she noticed Clarke looking away, concern back
in her posture, knowing Clarke was trying to conceal the fact that she was worried.
The shadow of Lexa’s parents was too prominent.
Raven knew and accepted then that it wouldn't recede on it's own.
An idea that had thus far only been an idea in Raven’s head became a fully
consolidated plan during that drive from the motel back home. She did not speak up
about it, no – this was her own doing, something she’d do alone, something she’d do
for both Clarke’s and Lexa’s sakes – and, by extension, for Anya’s sake too.
She’d bring them down. Clarke and Lexa may have had their hands legally tied, but
Raven certainly didn’t.
No, she had an idea.
More than just an idea.
She had a plan.
* * *
It had been four hours since Anya had left. Four hours Clarke had sat at home, eyes
fixed on the door, unable to move away. She’d cried, she’d been angry, but all
through those four hours the worry hadn’t truly ended until she’d received that one
text from Raven.
_Lexa’s fine. We’re coming home._
Fish had been unsure of how to handle a crying and worried Clarke. He had felt the
tension in the air, and the second time Clarke had cried he’d yapped until she’d
picked him up into her lap, where he’d proceeded to try and lick away her tears.
She’d laughed through her tears, trying to push the little puppy away from her
face, and for that brief moment, she’d been able to breathe. But then the worry had
set in again, and she’d held Fish close and cried again.
Lexa couldn’t just disappear like that. Clarke was angry at her for just
disappearing without another word, wanted to yell at her for leaving her to worry –
but most of all, she just wanted her home. She didn’t even care why she’d
disappeared.
She just wanted Lexa to come home.
And so when she heard the elevator ding in the hallway, she went to the door, and
the instant the door was opened to reveal Lexa, she ran into her. She wrapped her
arms around Lexa’s neck and just pulled her close, held her so tightly Lexa
couldn’t even breathe – but she allowed that, relished that even, and shed a few
more tears into Clarke’s hair as she slid her arms around her waist and pulled her
closer.
Clarke glanced at Anya over Lexa’s shoulder and smiled. “Thank you.”
Anya nodded and smiled as well. “Any time.”
And then Lexa was pushing against Clarke, and they stumbled the few steps into
their apartment so that Anya could close the door behind them. Clarke held Lexa so
tight she could barely breathe, but Lexa didn’t mind; she understood, she needed
this, and she never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been gone for that
long.”
Clarke whimpered and tightened her arms, her legs giving a little way as her
exhaustion finally hit her. She’d been so worried she hadn’t even eaten, hadn’t
slept more than those few hours, and just the stress had drained every last bit of
energy from her body. In response, Lexa's arms held her even tighter, holding her
up and supporting her - as they always did.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” Clarke whimpered, “Ever. Promise.”
“I promise.”
Lexa managed to maneuver them over to the couch, where she sat down to allow Clarke
to climb into her lap, arms still around her neck and face buried in her shoulder.
Clarke was trembling slightly, as was Lexa, and upon hearing the first sob, Lexa
broke down too – she’d held her tears for longer than she thought she could, but
feeling and hearing Clarke cry, she began crying too.
A mass of apologies left her lips amidst sobs and whimpers, spoken into Clarke’s
hair and mixing with the whimpers and sobs of Clarke – they were both messes,
clinging to one another like they feared the other would disappear lest they let
go, and all the while they cried.
Fish sat at their feet and watched them. He did not understand why they were so
upset, when just the week before he’d seen them laughing in the exact same
position. He'd seen Clarke climb into Lexa's lap, a smile on her lips, but now that
same position beheld within it a suggestion of absolute devastation - they were
whimpering and sobbing and making noises that Fish certainly disliked, but he did
not know what to do, and so he sat next to Lexa's foot and just watched them,
occasionally letting out a quiet little whimper.
He did not understand, and frankly, neither did Clarke or Lexa. Lexa wanted to stop
crying so she could apologize to Clarke, so that she could tell her why she’d left
and explain what had happened and why she was hurt, but she couldn’t – she didn’t
understand quite why, but hearing Clarke cry, feeling the sobs and trembles of her
body, it shattered her more than anything, and she could not keep the tears at bay.
Clarke was simply overwhelmed. Lexa was home. Lexa was fine. Lexa was okay, she was
okay, albeit she was currently crying and holding her so tight Clarke barely could
breathe, but she was okay. She hadn’t been mugged, she hadn’t left her, she hadn’t
run away – for a brief moment, Clarke had believed she’d done wrong and Lexa had
decided to leave, despite knowing it was a ridiculous thought. But she hadn’t been
able to shake that thought, not until she had seen Lexa – no, she hadn’t truly been
able to stop thinking about that until she’d felt Lexa’s arms around her and her
breath against her neck, the apologies spilling from her lips so quickly Clarke
could barely catch them.
They didn’t matter. Her being there was a comfort enough.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Clarke finally managed to whisper, “God, I’m so glad you’re
here.”
Lexa sighed and rested her forehead against Clarke’s, and brought her hands up to
cup her face gently as though she feared Clarke would break otherwise.
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“But what happened?”
Lexa sighed. "God, it's a long story."
"Tell me. Please."
> well that was a long one

> who wants to know what Raven's plan is? I certainly do(jokes i totally already
know you guys are gonna love it)
> hurt&comfort is both painful and beautiful and i hate to love it
63. Chapter 63
> TW: mentions of suicide
_“Tell me. Please.”_
And Lexa did.

“I was going to come home,” Lexa said quietly, “I was on my way. But Titus, he- he
was waiting for me outside the offices, and he told me about Costia –
"Costia?"
"She-she's in a long term care facility."
"What?"
"Clarke, I’m so sorry that I lied, I lied when I said I had a lot of work, Titus
said that Costia was in a long-term care facility and I just had to know- I had to
go, and I’m so sorry-“
Clarke nodded. “I get it. I wish you hadn’t lied, but…I get it. It’s okay. Just
tell me what happened.”
Lexa drew in a shaky breath and shut her eyes. “She- I told you what my parents
did, and how I never heard from her after…I didn’t even know what happened, not
until…Clarke, she’s in a coma. She- her dad committed suicide because of what
happened, shot himself in the head and she found him, and then she tried to kill
herself too a few years ago but didn’t succeed, and now she’s just in a coma and my
parents are paying for her treatment because- I don’t even know why, but it can’t
be out of the good of their hearts, they haven’t got any good in their hearts, but-
god, Clarke, she tried to _kill_ herself because of me-“
“No, not you. Lexa, you’re not-“ Clarke’s voice broke and she brought up a hand to
cup Lexa’s cheek, and swallowed hard before speaking again. “Lexa, you didn’t do
anything to her.”
“It’s because of _me_ that my parents-“
“Your parents did what they did because they’re the worst scum of the earth. You
didn’t have any part in it, other than being another victim.”
Lexa blinked back tears and sighed heavily. “She looked so fragile, and small – I
recognized her, even though it’s been years, and she just…god, Clarke, it hurt.”
“Of course it did. You…you-“
“Loved her.” Lexa finished for her. “Loved. Not love. I used to, but not anymore. I
need you to know that.”
“I do.”
“And then…I saw her, and I just- the next thing I thought of was you in that same
position, you hurt, you trying to-“
“I’d never do that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Look at me, Lexa.” Clarke asked. “Please.”
Lexa opened her eyes slowly, and Clarke offered her a gentle smile before speaking.
“I’ll say this once, and I want you to believe me, okay?”
Lexa nodded.
“I’m _not_ going to break at the hands of your parents. I won’t go out and try to
kill myself. I won’t end up in a coma.”
“But-“
Clarke shook her head. “No buts. You’re imagining things. What happened with Costia
won’t repeat. And your parents, they’re not going to-“
“They might.”
“What?”
“I lied, Clarke. About not being worried, about the case- I’m so worried, it seems
even worse than I let on, in all likelihood they will succeed at taking it all back
and they won’t stop there, they’ll take all of what we have and even more, and I
just- I’m so sorry-“
The last words were merely a whimper, and Clarke pulled Lexa close, allowing her to
bury her face into her neck and sob quietly.
“It’ll be fine,” Clarke mumbled. “We’ll be fine.”
She wiped away a tear, and murmured quiet words into Lexa’s hair as she waited for
her to calm down.
The silence laid over them for a long while before she dared to speak.
“Where were you all night?”
Lexa was quiet.
“Lexa…”
“I just couldn’t come home right away, Clarke. I’m sorry.”
“Where were you?”
A sigh tickled the skin of Clarke’s neck and made her shudder.
“I went to this motel. I – god, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad, but I bought
liquor…”
“What!?”
“I didn’t drink it, though. I didn’t- I meant to, I bought it thinking I would, but
then I remembered the last time I did something like that and…”
Clarke eyed her carefully. “The last time was the night of that crash, wasn’t it?”
Lexa nodded. “I just couldn’t do that to you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Clarke sighed. “God, I’m so glad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“But what-what did you do all night, then?”
“You don’t know?”

“I…I tried to clear my head, Clarke. I couldn’t, but I tried, I just sat there
staring at the bottle and I couldn’t stop crying and I couldn’t move away, and my
phone died and I’m so sorry that I didn’t call, I just- god, my mind, it was such a
mess, it still is, I just can’t stop thinking about what we’ll do when my parents…”
“Oh, Lexa…” Clarke sighed. “You could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to- no, I couldn’t, not until I knew what I was thinking. Clarke, if
I’d come home then, I would’ve just cried, and I didn’t want to scare you…” Lexa
stumbled over her words and realized what she was saying was not making any sense.
“I know you were scared anyway, and I’m so sorry, but I- I didn’t think, Clarke.
I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Clarke muttered. “It’s okay.”
“You’re crying.”
“That’s because I’m upset.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Lexa blinked back tears and buried her face in Clarke’s neck again. “I’m so so
sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
Clarke sighed. “Lexa, seriously. It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home.”
* * *
The instant they’d gotten Clarke home, Anya had stormed off to Raven’s apartment,
and promptly collapsed into her bed without another word. Raven had taken her time
to make Anya a cup of chai before entering the bedroom to find Anya laying on her
back, looking tired as ever.
“Today was rough, wasn’t it?” she asked as she sat down beside her and offered her
the cup.
“God. I just hope we could ship her parents to the fucking Sun,” Anya grumbled. “I
literally want to kill them.”
Raven chuckled, but said nothing. “You okay?”
“I guess.”
“It’ll be alright. They’ll be okay.”
“But her parents, they- they’re fucking insane. They’re not going to stop.”
“We’ll just have to see.”

“Raven, what’s up with you? You’re being very cryptic.”
Raven shrugged. “I guess I just don’t want to jinx anything.”
“You and your jinxes,” Anya smiled. “You do know there’s no such thing, right?”
“Don’t you dare say it.”
“Jinxes don-“
Raven clamped a hand over Anya’s mouth and took the cup from her hands, setting it
on the night stand whilst she pushed Anya down onto the bed with a smirk on her
face. “Nope. You’re not saying it.”
Anya just rolled her eyes and pushed her hand away. “Fine. I won’t.”
“Good.”
“But superstition is just irrational.”
“You’re irrational.”
“That’s a childish comeback.”
Raven smirked. “ _You’re_ a childish comeback.”
Anya just groaned, and for a while, they just laid there in comfortable silence.
But then, realising the time, Raven got up a little too fast, drawing Anya’s
attention.
“Where are you going?”
“I just need to make a phone call.”
“To who?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “To my mom, of course.”
To that, Anya just sighed. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
“If you must know, I’m calling Sinclair and asking if I can switch shifts with
Atom.”
“Why won’t you just call Atom?”
Raven cursed herself for stumbling on a lie. “Yeah, right. Like he’d ever answer
me.”
“He’s not that much of an asshole, I’m sure.”
“I may or may not have successfully annoyed him out of his mind.”
“Fair enough. Go. But don’t you dare go disappearing, too. I am not in the mood for
hunting you down.”
Raven laughed. “If you ever find yourself needing to hunt me down, I’ll be at the
Ark. Just so you know.”
“The Ark…?”
“Lincoln’s bar. Cheap whiskey and comfy seats. And he almost always lets me win in
pool.”
“That’s nice of him.”
Raven slipped away then, not just out of the room but out of the apartment – she
didn’t want Anya overhearing. For a moment she contemplated moving out of the hall
and downstairs to the lobby, fearing Lexa and Clarke might overhear, but settled on
standing right near the elevator. She then pulled up a number and waited a long
while for an answer.
She returned about twenty minutes later and said little to Anya, and thankfully
Anya was too tired to notice how jittery she seemed – the coy twinkle in her eye,
almost completely concealed but just not quite, should’ve told her that Raven was
up to something, but this one time she missed it.
Raven was glad. She didn’t want Anya to ask her what was up, because she wasn’t so
sure she’d be able to lie to her. She most certainly couldn’t tell her the truth –
no, that was out of the question, mostly because there was no way Anya would’ve
ever let her do what she planned.
Anya would’ve certainly yelled at her and told her it was an idiotic idea
altogether. Raven knew this. She also knew that if Clarke or Lexa ever found out,
they’d surely be angry as well.
_This is for their own good,_ Raven kept reassuring herself, _They’ll understand._
But the concern did not recede entirely, and so, when three days later she took her
car and set off for the day for a ‘training event’ in Westchester, she felt nerves
bundle up in her stomach.
The drive wasn’t so long. Raven already knew the way – this wasn’t the first time
she’d visited Sing Sing, after all. She knew the procedure, and it passed by
relatively quick – after passing through the metal detector and having been patted
down, and after all of her things had been searched twice, she’d been led into a
room and sat before a table. A little while later, a guard emerged, a lanky young
man walking beside him, a stubbly beard adorning his usually clean shaved face. His
hair was cut short, too, and Raven couldn’t help but snicker at how funny he
looked.
He was sat down, and his cuffs were attached to the table, and then the guard went
his way and left her alone with him. Raven was still laughing, and after a while
the man huffed and said: “Shut up, Raven, I know it looks bad.”
“What the hell did you do to your hair, Jasper?” Raven laughed. “It’s so short!”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “There was an outbreak of lice. It was easier this way.”
“You look like a fucking rodent!”
“Shut up.”
Raven shook her head. “You know I’ll never.”
“So this is why you came to visit? To laugh at my hair?”
“No, I came here to ask you if anyone’s made you their bitch yet.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “You know that I’m more likely to have a bitch.”
“Sure.”
“And it’s not like that.”
“Su-ure,” Raven grinned. “I was just joking.”
“Bad joke.”
“You’ve put on some muscle since I last saw you.”
“Yeah, well, with nothing else to do-“ Jasper shrugged. “How’s life on the
outside?”
“Same old, same old. Sinclair misses you.”
“He still wants me back?”
“Oh, no, I think you’ll have to gravel to get your job back.”
“Shit.”
“Hey, you did plant a bomb at a major corporation’s office. Just saying.”
"It was a harmless stink bomb! I mean yeah, it looked like a pipe bomb, but you
know I'd never-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
“It wasn’t even _that_ illegal. I’ll be out in like two months.”
Raven chuckled. “I know, but add to that your affiliations…”
“My affiliations are with badassery and Mr. Cool,” Jasper said. “But I get what you
mean.”
“Good.”
“D’ya have change for the vending machines? I’m really craving a Kit Kat.”
Raven laughed but went over to fetch one, and came back as quick as she could –
some of the inmates in the room, having their own visitations of course, were
eyeing her in a manner she didn’t quite like.
“Why don’t you visit me more often?” Jasper asked as he unwrapped the candy. “I’m
bored. It's been like a month since you last visited.”
“I’ve been a bit busy.”
“Too busy to visit a friend?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, harsh.”
“Shut up.”
“This is my only real chance at outside world interaction,” Jasper reminded her.
“Let me relish it.”
“Jasper, I know your mom visits you every week.”
“So?”
“I’m not your only real chance at outside world interaction.”
“Way to be nit-picky.”
“Listen, I did have something I wanted to discuss…”
Jasper smiled. “There we go. I knew there was something you needed. What is it?
Drugs? Cause I’m kinda stuck here at the moment, but-“
“No, not that. Shush. Keep your voice quiet or I’ll punch you.”
“Punch me and your visit’s over.”
“Shush,” Raven hissed. “You owe me one.”
“Okay, fine. What do you need?”
Raven glanced around and saw that the only camera in the room was pointed so that
her face couldn’t be seen, and thanked the heavens for it. Though she was sure she
was being paranoid, she wanted as little of her words to be recorded as possible.
“I need someone exposed.”
“Exposed?”
“You know. Laid out. Spill the beans.”
“Aha. Who?”
Raven lowered her voice. “Jason and Shawna Woods. Woods Legal Services.”
“Yeah, I know them. Or of them.” Jasper nodded. “What do you want spilled?”
“I don’t know. Everything. Burn them down, their reputations. I want them to
permanently lose face.”
“You know I can’t do anything from here, right?”
“I do. But you have your ways to get the word out to your more…computer-versed
friends. Am I wrong?”
“Good. So you’ll do it?”
“Sure. Why not destroy some rich jackasses?”
“Great. Perfect. But- can you try and keep their daughter out of it? Alexandria?
She’s sort of…married to Clarke.”
“Clarke’s married!?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck?”
“It’s weird.”
"When?"
"It's been a while."
"How come I'm only hearing this now?"
"I would've told you last time I visited but you only wanted to hear about the
latest NASA updates, so-"
“But how?”
“It’s a long story.”
Jasper glanced at the clock. “We’ve still got half an hour. Please tell me, I’m so
bored.”
“You promise Lexa won’t be as drawn into this?”
“I’ll try. But if she’s their daughter, she’ll still be sucked into the media
storm-“
“I know, I know. I’m taking that risk.”
“Why?”
“They’re hurting her. And Clarke. And Anya.”
“Who’s Anya?”
“My girlfriend.”
“You’re in a relationship?” Jasper exclaimed. “Jeez, I’m missing so much. Now tell
me everything. I’ve been watching reruns of _The Days of Our Lives_ for the past
four months and I’m about to die. I need new material to think about, anything.
Please.”
“Fine, fine.”
She left about an hour later, and went home as though nothing had happened. It was
out of her hands now – all she could do now was lay low and hope that something
happened, that Jasper pulled through, and that in all of that, she wouldn’t be
exposed.
Really, all she’d done was give him a name. She hadn’t paid him, or any such
nonsense.
_I’m fine,_ Raven thought to herself when she settled into bed that night, _I
didn’t do anything illegal. I think. I’ll be fine._
Anya was already falling asleep, her arms tightly wound around Raven’s waist, her
face resting against Raven’s shoulder. She’d only come home a few minutes earlier,
and had climbed into bed immediately, drawing Raven out of her worries.
“How was your day?” Anya mumbled into Raven’s shoulder. “How was the training
thing?”
“Huh?”
“The training…day. In Westchester?”
“Ah, right. It was boring. Grueling.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
"How about your day?"
"I had to pronounce four. There was a car accident. One survivor, four dead. A
pretty crappy day."
"That sucks."
"Thank god I get to sleep in tomorrow," Anya yawned. "I feel like I've run four
marathons."
“Go to sleep.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Anya muttered. After a while, her breaths evened out,
and Raven found herself lying in her arms, wide awake, worry once again present in
her heart.
_I’m fine,_ Raven told herself. _I did what I had to do. They’ll be brought down,
and I won’t be dragged down in it. It’s not like I can go to prison for just
mentioning a few names in conversation, right?_
> Raven is the hero this is true and she is a genius

> also can i just say, Clarke is the perfect wife? like i want to marry her
> tbh i wanna marry all of them
64. Chapter 64
> just a little side note: today marks 2 months of TMT - time flies, doesn't it?
The next week went by in very different ways for the four of them. For Clarke and
Lexa, the week was about healing – Lexa gave Clarke her space, which she took
gladly; after all, Lexa had lied to her, and although she had forgiven her for it
she was still hurting. It didn’t help that there was a preliminary hearing set for
the next week regarding the case with Lexa’s parents, meaning Lexa was stressed
about that – more than once did they get on each others nerves due to the stress
and anxiety that resided in the apartment, but thankfully there was enough room
there for the two of them to have their own space and cool off before making up
with whispered apologies and kisses. Even amidst arguments, they were both more
than aware of the fact that they weren’t _truly_ angry at each other; no, they were
angry at just about everything else, Lexa’s parents most of all, and that anger was
only increased by the anxiety and stress and fear that resided within their hearts.
Raven was anxious and stressed as well, but for a whole other reason. It had been
six days since her visit to Sing Sing – for six days, she’d bitten her tongue and
managed to keep her secret, though not as successfully as she’d hoped. Anya had
noticed her jittery movements and the tension in every action and word she spoke,
but was yet to narrow down on the exact cause of her stress. She’d assumed it was
because Raven had sent out a job application that she really wanted to get, and had
been so kind to her by bringing her pizza and beer and surprising her with kisses
and hugs, far often than normally.
Raven wished she could tell Anya what she’d done. She wanted Anya to tell her she’d
be okay, that she wouldn’t be arrested and sent to prison for essentially putting
out a hit on Lexa’s parents – well, not a hit, they weren’t going to die, but she
had essentially brought about their eventual downfall.
That is, if it succeeded. That was also another source of her anxiety – she’d hoped
it’d be fast, that by the next day they’d be wrecked, but there was nothing.
By the seventh day she’d grown accustomed to that constant state of slight
distress, so much so that she went to sleep almost entirely calm. Anya was staying
over again – well, nowadays she was almost always there, and Raven thought it
absolutely ridiculous that she still insisted on keeping her apartment, but she let
her do what she liked. So long as she got to curl up in her arms at night, Raven
didn’t bother herself with where Anya’s mail was delivered.
She fell asleep, calm and relaxed, yet unaware of the hell that was about to break
loose in a matter of hours.
* * *
Clarke and Lexa were woken at about five in the morning to the shrill ring of
Clarke’s phone. Lexa groaned and gave Clarke a shove, and Clarke reached over to
grab the phone and answered it in an annoyed tone.
“What?”
“Good morning to you too,” Abby replied in a sarcastic tone.
“Oh, morning, Mom,” Clarke yawned. “I thought this was Raven.”
“Well, it’s me. Have you seen the news today?”
“Mom, it’s five in the morning. So no.”
“Something’s happened. You might want to check.”
“What’s happened?”
“You know that social justice group, those hackers – the Mission, that’s what I
think they call themselves?”
“Get to the point, Mom-”
“They’ve exposed the Woods, Clarke. The whole thing. It’s all over the internet,
your in-laws…it’s pretty massive.”
Clarke paled. “Wait, what?”
“I’ll call you later, you need to see it for yourself.”
Abby hung up the next second, and Clarke immediately pulled up the news on her
phone. Lexa was half asleep, yet unaware of what was going on, and as Clarke
scrolled through the articles, she began hearing quiet curses spilling from her
lips.
“What is it, Clarke?” Lexa mumbled.
“Read this.”
A phone was shoved into her face, and Lexa had to reach over for her reading
glasses to be able to see.
_“The Woods EXPOSED –the downfall of the Woods Legal Services empire”_
“What?” Lexa gasped, grabbing the phone from Clarke’s hand. “What!?”
She read on, and as she did, her face grew paler and paler.
“They…what?”
She was in shock. There, before her very own eyes, was something she’d dreamt of
for years – all her parents secrets, busted out in the open – the tax fraud, the
blackmail, all their dirty business was exposed, known, and already she saw that
there were going to be severe legal ramifications.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Clarke asked tentatively. “This is a good thing?”
Lexa looked up at her, mouth open, and had to blink for a few seconds before even
being able to form a coherent answer.
“Clarke, this is- shit, this is…I don’t even know what to say-”
She returned her eyes to the article, and Clarke waited for a while for her to skim
through. She herself had only read the first paragraph before realizing Lexa had to
see it, and now waited anxiously for her to finish to hear what had happened.
But then she saw the astonishment on Lexa’s face be replaced by shock and then
fear, and grew worried.
“What?”
“They…I’m mentioned in this article.”
“What!?”
Lexa read through and then set the phone down, her hands now shaking just slightly.
“I- I’m in some of the documents.”
“You?”
“I’m their daughter, of course I’d be, but shit- oh my god, what if we get sucked
into this? I mean me, what if I-“
“Lexa, calm down. Call Indra, ask her to look into this.”
Lexa reached over to grab her phone, but when she did, the phone began ringing with
an unknown number.
“Do I answer?” Lexa asked, looking a little afraid. “I-“
Lexa answered, but hung up not a moment later.
“It’s a reporter,” she spat, “Of course it is.”
She hadn’t even gotten to her phone book when her phone rang again, and this time
she didn’t even bother to answer before hanging up. When she did, another call came
through, and after hanging up on probably ten consecutive calls, she gave up on
trying.
“Christ,” Lexa sighed, “Can I just use your phone?”
She turned off her own phone and tossed it aside, annoyance evident in her
expression already – Clarke felt sorry, and most of all confused, and handed her
the phone before getting up to get dressed. There was no use trying to sleep
anymore – no, she knew already then that the day was going to be long and gruelling
and most likely exhausting.
When she came back from the bathroom not a minute later, she found Lexa sitting up
on the bed, talking on the phone, looking worried and annoyed and fiddling with a
lock of hair in the manner that she did when she was thinking and stressed.
“Mhm,” she said into the phone, “So the documents were released at midnight?”
Clarke sat down next to Lexa, who put the phone on speaker so she could hear too.
“I put you on speaker, Indra,” Lexa said, “Clarke’s here. I figured she should know
too.”
“Good morning, Clarke,” Indra replied. “You’re lucky that I was at the office, by
the way – thank having a phone conference overseas scheduled before dawn for that,
otherwise Clarke’s number would’ve been accessed too – I’ve arranged for new phone
numbers for you, and your contact information will be kept secret. Clarke's number
I managed to conceal before the press caught true wind of the situation, so I think
it should be alright. It’s just for today that you might get phone calls from
reporters and such – I couldn’t avoid that, your name was readily listed in the
documents and nowadays everything is available on the internet…”
“It’s alright.”
“I suggest you stay home, too. I’m sure there’ll be reporters waiting outside your
door. This is looking to be the scandal of the year, by the looks of it – your
parents’ company is associated with so many other large companies, and the media is
just tearing it all down. There's a whole network of fraud and blackmail and just
overall dirty business, and the media is having an absolute field day with it.
You’re lucky you changed your name – it is not so fortunate right now to have the
last name Woods, that’s for sure.”
Lexa actually chuckled at that. “But how did this happen?”
“The documents were leaked by that social justice hacker group, the Mission – they
made a whole video about it, actually, I will email it to you. In essence, they
state that the misdemeanours and crimes of your parents came to their attention and
it called for justice to be served.”
“They’re not wrong, though,” Clarke pointed out. “This is a good thing, right?”
Indra sighed on the other end, and Clarke realized things weren’t as simple as
she’d taken them to be.
“You two didn’t say anything about the case, did you? Or about them?”
“No,” Lexa said, glancing at Clarke. “Right?”
Clarke shook her head. “Yeah, no. Not a word.”
“Not to anyone?”
“Well, to Anya and Raven – two friends – and my mom, but I _know_ they didn’t say
anything…” Clarke began. Lexa caught her realization the same instant it hit
Clarke, and Clarke stumbled to add: “I’m not too sure. Shit. I need to go talk to
Raven.”
“Now?”
“It’s a bad thing if we’re in any way linked to the leak, right?” Clarke asked.
“Yes, it most certainly is.” Indra confirmed. “I would like to know, no matter what
it actually is.”
“I’ll go now. You talk with her, figure out what the hell’s going on,” Clarke told
Lexa. “I’m so sorry our day was ruined like this.”
“It’s not like you planned or had anything to do with it,” Lexa smiled. “But go
now.”
Clarke hurried off, and grabbed the spare key to Raven’s apartment before storming
out and into her apartment. She didn't bother to knock on the door before walking
into Raven’s bedroom, finding Raven and Anya sleeping in bed together with little
to no clothes on. That didn't phase her - no, she had to know, had to hear Raven
tell her that she _hadn't_ had anything to do with the leak.
“Raven, wake up,” Clarke grumbled, shoving Raven’s shoulder, “Come on, wake up.”
Raven groaned and tried to push her away. “Let me sleep.”
“Raven, did you tell anyone about the case?”
Raven turned to look at her, and did her best to fake a perplexed look. “…no?”
“You sure? ‘Cause if you're lying, I’m going to kill you.”
“I didn’t tell anyone about the case, Clarke,” Raven yawned. “What’s going on? It’s
like five in the morning.”
“Well somebody has exposed just about every dirty little secret that Lexa’s parents
had, and the media’s going crazy. Like, batshit crazy. Lexa’s phone’s blowing up,
and-“
“Fuck, what?” Raven exclaimed. “What?”

Anya stirred in her sleep and turned to her other side to find Clarke glaring at
Raven, and was infinitely confused.
Clarke ignored her question, instead focusing on Raven. “Raven, did you or did you
not have anything to do with what’s going on?”
“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Raven snapped.
“You’re lying!”
“I’m not!”
Clarke smacked Raven’s arm lightly and glared. “You are. Please, Rae, just be
honest.”
“Okay, fine, so what if I maybe gave their names to someone?”
“To who!?”
“You don’t need to know. I’m not telling you anything,” Raven grumbled as she sat
up. “It’s better you don’t know.”
“Why?”
“If you had nothing to do with it, you won’t get charged if it comes to that.”
“Raven!”
“I didn’t say anything about the case. It’s fine.”
“No it isn’t!” Clarke snapped. “You- oh my god, Raven, did you even think-?”
“Yes, Clarke, I did.”
“How could you have thought this was a smart thing to do!?”
Anya had thus far been watching the discourse in confusion, entirely lost with the
whole thing. She was still half asleep, and so most of the words flew right over
her head, but what she did catch was the angry tone in Clarke’s voice and the
slight trembles of Raven’s body – Raven was worried, too worried for it to be
normal, and Anya grew worried then too.
“Okay, hold on,” she began, sitting up beside Raven. “What did Raven do?”
Clarke crossed her arms across her chest. “You tell her.”
“Clarke, I’m sorry, but I had to do it.”
“Had to? You just _had_ to go and risk getting sent to prison?”
“You were hurting!” Raven snapped. “You were hurting, Lexa was hurting, hell, even
Anya- I did what I had to do!”
“So you told someone about them?”
“All I did was suggest,” Raven told her. “Please, Clarke, don’t be mad at me for
trying to fix your problems.”
“Fix? How-“
“They wouldn’t have ever stopped. You know that.”
“There would’ve been other ways-“
“Fight fire with fire, right?” Raven sighed. “Clarke, your ways weren’t working.
They're cunning, they're smart, and you can’t fight that and get rid of them the
way you were trying.”
“But-“
“I took the risk for you, Clarke. You deserve to be happy, Lexa does too, and I
wasn’t just going to stand by and watch you get wrecked time after time as they
threw new bullshit at you.”
Clarke stared at Raven for awhile, and saw no jokes, no humor in her eyes – she was
dead serious, more tense than Clarke had ever seen her, her fists gripping at the
covers so tight her knuckles were entirely white. Had there been more light in the
room, she might’ve caught the hint of tears in her eyes, or the slight quiver of
her lip – but she didn’t, although she did catch the tension and hurt in Raven’s
voice, and knew then that there was no way she could be mad at her.
“Raven, you…you didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.”
"You're my best friend. So yes, I did."
"Raven-"
“Clarke, go back to Lexa and stay away from this. You had nothing to do with it.
The less you know about what I did, the better. You can’t be charged for something
you had nothing to do with.”
“You’re making it sound like you murdered them.”
“I didn’t, but I know I can get sued or charged for this. So Clarke, _please_ , for
the love of God, go back home and give me a minute. I need time alone.”
Clarke eyed her carefully for a long while before finally moving to the door. She
paused on her way out, and turned to give her a tentative smile.
“Thank you. I think.”
Raven sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re an idiot,” Clarke smiled. She now noticed that Anya had pulled up her
phone, and the tension in her shoulders was more than evident of Anya’s growing
anger. “You might get murdered, though.”
Raven furrowed her brows, and then remembered Anya, and as Clarke made her way out
of the apartment, Raven became more and more aware of the fact that Anya was
absolutely furious. The woman beside her finished reading an article, and tossed
her phone aside as she let out a long and exasperated groan.
"Raven, you-"
Anya darted up from the bed and began pacing back and forth, fuming with annoyance
and anger and _fear_ for what Raven had done – she took a long while to just
breathe to be able to speak calmly enough, and Raven waited all that time
patiently.
“What did you do, Raven?” Anya asked.
Her voice shook just slightly despite her attempts for it not to.
“I-“ Raven sighed. “I went to a friend who has connections to this underground
hacker group and told him to get them to expose Lexa’s parents.”
“And who’s this friend?”
“Jasper.”
“The one who’s in Sing Sing?”
“Yes.”
Anya sighed. “So that training day…?”
“Never happened. I went to visit Jasper.”
“Christ, Raven- do you even _realize_ how stupid that was?”
Raven said nothing, and in her anger Anya failed to notice how fragile she looked
in that moment.
“I mean, you essentially signed yourself up for prison with that – there’s records,
guest logs and video tapes of you visiting him, and if they can link him to the
leak, they’ll link you, and then they’ll link Clarke and Lexa-“
“They can’t link him to the leak.”
“Are you sure of that?” Anya demanded. “Are you?”
Raven fumbled with her hands and looked away. “No.”
“I can’t believe you could’ve done that, I mean – did you even _think_ at all what
could happen!? Of all the things, you didn't even think you just- God, Raven,
you've done a lot of idiotic things but this!?”
Anya had expected Raven to snap back at her, to snark and defend her decisions –
but instead she saw Raven tremble, and then caught sight of a tear falling down
along her cheek, and her anger melted away quicker than she could’ve ever believed.
"Shit, Raven, I-"
Raven let out a whimper and buried her face in her hands as tears began to
fall. Anya rushed over to the bed and without a word climbed over to sit beside
Raven, carefully pulling her into her lap as she cried. “Shit, Raven- I’m sorry, I
didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry, please don’t cry…” Anya mumbled, the guilt weighing
upon her chest so heavily she couldn’t breathe. “I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m
sorry, I just- Christ, Raven, I don’t want you to go to prison. And I wish you
would’ve told me-”
Raven sniffled and wiped away a few tears. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d
be mad at me.”
Anya let out a sigh and tightened her arms around Raven, drawing her even closer so
that Raven's head rested against her chest.
“I’m not mad at you,” Anya sighed, “I’m not…I’m not mad. I’m just scared, Raven. I
don’t want you to end up in prison, or get sued for this…”
“I’ve been so scared all week,” Raven muttered. “I did it because I knew it was
right, that it’d work- but I’m still afraid. Like, what if they _do_ link it back
to Jasper, and find out it was me? I don’t have any money for a good attorney,
and-“
“Lexa will represent you. She’s good. Great.” Anya said quickly. "She'll do it."
“But what if _they_ get sued for it?” Raven asked then. “I knew it was a
possibility, but I weighed it against the odds and decided it was worth the risk,
but now I’m not so sure-“
“Raven…” Anya groaned. “God, you’re an idiot.”
Raven wiped away another tear. “I know.”
“You’re not supposed to agree with me.”
“But I am an idiot,” Raven mumbled. “I did a stupid thing, and now I’m just scared
that it’ll blow up in my face – actually, no, I’m more scared it’ll hurt Clarke and
Lexa. I didn’t even _realize_ they could be getting phone calls, and probably
harassed too – god, I fucked up so bad-“
“Raven. You didn’t fuck up that bad.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Have you seen the articles?” Anya asked.
“No? I just woke up?”
“There’s no way they’ll bounce back from this,” Anya murmured, her fingers tracing
Raven’s jaw gently. “You’ve effectively destroyed them.”
“But I didn’t really do anything.”
“Raven, it’s only been a few hours and the media is already exploding. Just you
wait, tomorrow there’ll be lawsuits against them, and criminal charges – I mean,
not only are they proven to be guilty of tax fraud, but money laundering and
blackmail? And god knows what else, I didn’t have time to read it all-“
“So I did a good thing?” Raven asked quietly, her tone of voice tentative and
careful as though she didn't quite believe what she was hearing.
Anya smiled. “You did an idiotic and stupid thing, that’s what you did. But it was
probably the smartest thing anyone could’ve thought of, and I hate you for it, but
I’m pretty sure it’s working.”
Raven shifted slightly in Anya’s lap. “I can’t go to prison.”

“You won’t go to prison.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“If it looks that you’ll be charged, we’ll take your car and drive off to Mexico.”
“Mexico? Not Canada?”
Anya shook her head and chuckled. “Too cold. And you speak Spanish, so-“
“Fair enough. So we’ll be outlaws?”
“If it comes to it.”
“Okay.”
“Good.”
“I won’t go to prison.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Do you think Lexa’s mad at me?”
“Probably,” Anya shrugged. “But she’ll get over it.”
"Clarke's mad," Raven muttered. "She thinks it was stupid."
"Of course she does. You could be hurt because of what you did."
"But she- they - were hurting. I did what I-"
"-had to do, I know."
“You sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m a little mad.”
“But not very?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You did what you had to do.”
Raven sighed and settled her head against Anya’s shoulder, her anxiety and fear
almost dissipated entirely. “Yeah. What I had to do.”
> shit's going down and it's wonderful, tune in tomorrow to find out just how bad
the Woods have got it
> also, i cannot say this enough, but i really really really love Raven more than
anything, she is just too good for this world and deserves all the happiness
65. Chapter 65
Clarke had come home to find Lexa scrolling through articles upon articles, all of
which told the same story. She’d known that Lexa’s parents had been involved in
illegal things, but the extent of it was far more than she could’ve ever imagined –
not only had they effectively evaded almost all taxes for decades, the companies
that they owned had violated various guidelines, restrictions and downright laws;
one power plant under their name had almost completely disregarded the
environmental legislations and the restrictions on certain emissions, whilst
another had effectively had it’s various HR violations hidden away and swept under
the rug by Woods Legal Services’ efficient lawyers. But now that all was out in the
open – every little thing, every receipt for coffee and every document with their
name on it was out on the internet for everyone to see, and there was no way they
could’ve ever undone any of the damage.
“Did you watch the video?” Clarke asked as she climbed into bed.
“No, I was waiting for you. Did Raven say anything?”
Clarke groaned, and Lexa looked up from the phone to find her answer clearly
expressed on Clarke’s face. She moved back to lean against the headboard and
gestured for Clarke to come closer, and so Clarke clambered over to settle in
Lexa’s lap, resting her head back against Lexa’s shoulder.
“She didn’t _really_ say anything about the case,” Clarke began. “But she did- god,
I can’t even believe she did it-“
“What did she do?”
“She didn’t tell me exactly. Something about ‘the less you know the better off
you’ll be’, but from what I gather, she told someone to leak everything about your
parents.”
“What!?”
“I know.”
“That’s insane.”
“I know.”
“She could get arrested!”
“I know.”
“Why’d she do it?”
“She did it for me, Lexa. And for you.”
Lexa sighed. “It was a risky move.”
“But it worked, didn’t it?”
“Depends on what she was trying to achieve.”
“Well, if all goes well, your parents will probably lose face completely and- well,
I don’t know, really. Can we watch the video?”
Lexa nodded and pulled up the video on Clarke’s phone. In it was a figure, not
clearly female or male, seated facing away from the camera, the hood of their shirt
pulled up so that you couldn’t see a thing about them. When they spoke, the voice
was broken and diverted like those of machines – Clarke thought it reminded her of
Darth Vader, but refrained from commenting and instead focused on what was being
said.
“It is an established fact that the rich minority of this country are reaping
benefits off the backs of the poorer majority. This is a warning to you all. The
Woods Legal Services may be one of the first, but it certainly will not be the
last.
It was brought to our attention that Jason and Shawna Woods, the founders of the
Woods Legal Services and the owners of Woods Inc., were practicing illegal business
and abusing their power to gain money, reverence, and even more power. It is our
intention to expose them. They are liars. Blackmailers. Good-for-nothings, whose
entire empire is based off of lies and deceit, built using the money gained from
protecting wealthy land-owners and industrialists. While they may have been
ruthless lawyers, it seems that not even the best of lawyers can be infallible –
from what we have seen, and what we publish, it is clear that their actions cannot
be dismissed. They have broken the law. They have gotten away with breaking the law
because they have money, power, and influence.
But they will no longer.
This is our message.
We will bring you down.
This is our mission.”
The video cut out then, and left both of them speechless for a little while.
“That was…” Clarke began, but she didn’t quite have the words. “Dramatic.”
“Yes, it was. Very dramatic.”
Clarke leaned her head against Lexa’s and sighed. “Have you looked at the
documents?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“No, but what I read gave me a good general idea.”
“How about the ones you’re in?”
“Indra found them. There’s mostly just mentions of me and the school I was sent to,
some correspondence with therapists and such…it looks like even uncle Titus is
getting dragged into this mess, apparently they uncovered a whole file full of…
well, let’s just say it’s compromising and definitely illegal disgusting porn, and
I want to wring his neck. Or shove a knife into his chest.”
Clarke was surprised at the anger in Lexa’s voice. “You okay?”
“I knew what they were doing, but…not this big. I mean, it’s good, but just…I
didn’t know all of it. And Titus, I’m just…”
“In shock?”
Lexa sighed. “Yeah.”

“But they’re exposed now. Everyone will know how shitty they are.”
“Yeah.”
“And then, maybe, we’ll get some peace and quiet.”
“Clarke, I opened my phone for two seconds and I have two hundred missed calls. I
don’t even want to know what my email looks like. Definitely nowhere near peace and
quiet, that's for sure.”
“It sucks.”
“I wish we could just go off somewhere quiet,” Lexa muttered. “Like the lodge.”
“You miss it, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“Don’t worry,” Clarke said quietly, “We’ll rent a cabin somewhere. Take a weekend
off.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Don’t sound so sad. It’s supposed to be a fun thing.”
“I’m just so overwhelmed.”
“I get that, but think about it – they could get arrested, Lexa. They could be
charged with god knows what, they could go to prison-“
“They’ll bail themselves out,” Lexa muttered. “And most likely they’ll decide I had
something to do with this and go on a witch hunt to find even the slightest
evidence to prove that I did indeed cause this whole shitstorm.”
“But you didn’t. You really, honestly, didn’t.”
“But Raven’s our neighbour, our friend, who is closely affiliated with us on an
almost daily basis. If they can link it to her…”
“They won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Raven may have taken a risk, but she’s not stupid. She’s the smartest person I
know.”
Lexa pulled Clarke closer to her and let out a breath. “I suppose.”
“Alright, I think we need to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?”
“Yeah, you know, this whole ‘your parents are being destroyed’ thing.”
“But celebrate?”
“Yes,” Clarke decided, climbing out of Lexa’s lap and off the bed. “You sit there.
I’ll go set up.”
“Set up what?”
“We’re going to watch whatever you want, eat whatever you want, and I’ll give you a
nice massage and wear that underwear set you like so we can have fun later.”
“The blue one?” Lexa asked, her eyes lighting up.
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Is there any other favorite?”
“Can I have your hoodie?”
“It’s so sweet that you ask, hoodie-stealer. I’m going to go walk Fish real quick,
you put on some clothes and get comfortable.”
Clarke skipped away and downstairs, and Lexa finally got out of bed. She came down
a while later wearing leggings and Clarke’s hoodie, her hair up in a messy bun and
her reading glasses on – there was a book in her hand, and she sat onto the kitchen
counter while Clarke set up a tray of snacks and food and drinks and dragged a pile
of blankets and pillows to the living room couch.
“You gonna nerd out there all day, or are you going to come here for your massage?”
Clarke asked.
Lexa held up her hand. “Let me finish the chapter.”
“Lexaa-“
“Shush.”
It took her a minute or so to read the remaining page, and she put the book down
along with her glasses before heading over to the couch and promptly seating
herself in Clarke’s lap.
“Okay, babe, what are we watching?”
Lexa took the remote from Clarke’s hand and heard the little groan from Clarke’s
lips when she flitted through Netflix’s documentaries page before settling on one
about the ocean.
“Oceans? Again?”
“What? This one’s new. I haven't seen it.”
“It’s got squids, hasn’t it?”
Lexa turned around and gave Clarke a smile. “What do you think?”
Clarke rolled her eyes and gave Lexa a little shove. “You and your damn squids.”
“What’s wrong with squids?”
“They’re a weird thing to be obsessed with, Lexa.”
“They’re cute. And magnificent.”
“I’m sure. They taste good.”
“Oh, you’re disgusting.”

Lexa settled a little bit forward when the documentary started, and grabbed a fresh
cup of tea from the tray as Clarke’s hands began kneading the sore muscles of her
back. She’d gone to the gym with Lincoln the day before, and he’d pushed her to the
limit. She regretted it now.
“You worked out too hard yesterday, didn’t you?” Clarke asked after the third
throaty moan left Lexa’s lips. “Regretting it?”
Lexa shook her head. “It feels good.”
“You were whining in your sleep.”
“Maybe it was a bad dream.”
“No, you were in pain.”
“Lincoln’s a fit guy. I wanted to keep up.”
Clarke hummed and dug her palms into Lexa’s shoulders, drawing another quiet moan
from Lexa’s lips. “I do like you all muscly, but I hate to see you in pain.”
“It’s good pain,” Lexa said. “And besides – I like challenging myself.”
“You should-“
“Nope, no. Not coming to the gym with you. I have my own workout routine that’s lax
and chill enough for me. I don’t need your high energy training.”
Lexa let out a laugh and laid her hand on Clarke’s thigh. “What do you even do,
aside from swim every weekend?”
“I do yoga. And sometimes I run.”
“When?”
“When you’re at work.”
"Are you _that_ bored?"
Clarke shrugged. "Maybe."
Lexa was quiet for a while. “Have you applied for more jobs?”
“No. And I'm quitting the cafe, too. Not yet, but soon.”
“Why?”
“We’re moving, remember?”
“Oh right.”
Lexa had almost forgotten about the move, what with her parents breathing down her
neck and the stress of it all just engulfing her being. But now, through some
miracle, she found that she was no longer stressed – her parents didn’t have that
standing anymore, didn’t have that power to influence any judge to be in their
favour – no, they were nothing now, and she was no longer afraid.
“Lexa?”
“Huh?”
“You’re really quiet. You okay?”
Lexa turned her head slightly and nodded. “Yeah. I just- I just realized I’m not
afraid anymore.”
“Of what?”
“My parents. I’m not stressed about them ruining us anymore.”
Clarke stopped massaging her back and Lexa turned around in her lap to face her,
seeing the astonishment on her face. “Really?”
Lexa shrugged. “I mean, maybe it’s just a fleeting moment, but…I don’t think they
can really ruin us any more. Even if they try to sue us, we didn’t really do
anything, and they don’t have that power anymore…They don’t have any concrete
proof, not even to sue Raven – if all she did was say some names in a conversation,
then there’s essentially no basis for any arrest or lawsuit.”
Clarke nodded. “So what you’re saying is that Raven saved our asses?”
Lexa laughed. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”
“We should get her something to thank her.”
“A bottle of champagne?”
“More like a case of champagne,” Clarke laughed. “No, I was thinking more like a
night out at the Ark. We haven’t done that in ages.”
“I’ve never been to this Ark. I’d love to go.”
“Oh, it’s an experience. Did you know that’s where I-“
“-got the phone call about me? Yeah, you’ve only told me what, a hundred times?”
“Maybe twice.”
Lexa grinned and suddenly kissed Clarke, full on the lips, sufficiently rendering
Clarke speechless. The documentary was still playing in the background, Fish was
sleeping on the couch beside them, and she’d thought they’d just cuddle and have a
nice time – but Lexa moved then to straddle her hips, her lips still on Clarke’s,
kissing her with demand and passion, and Clarke found she really enjoyed this turn
of events.
“What happened to watching the doc?” Clarke asked in between kisses. Lexa's
hoodie had found it's way to the floor, and Clarke's hands were skirting along
smooth skin as Lexa slowly grinded against her.
“Shut up," Lexa muttered, silencing her with a kiss.
“Not that I’m complaining, but we might want to move away from Fish-“
Another kiss cut off Clarke's words. “Shush.”

“Are you okay?”
“I’m celebrating,” Lexa murmured against Clarke’s lips. “We’re celebrating.

Whatever happens after today, we’ve got the upper hand.”
Clarke smiled and kissed Lexa, her tongue slipping into her mouth and drawing the
slightest whimper from her wife’s lips.
“Looks like the fun starts now.”
> im stretching out this drama all i can because i just like to see Lexa's parents
suffer (also Clexa fluff interlude isn't really anything any of you will complain
about, right)
66. Chapter 66
> honestly im just taking out my frustrations on Jason and Shawna Woods and i
guarantee you, they will suffer plenty in the coming chapters (and titus. i've got
a plan for tutu-man's demise)
It was an understatement that the situation exploded out of hand. By the evening
news, just about everyone had heard of the uncovered truth, and Clarke and Lexa
settled back to the couch to watch and hear what was going on. Lexa had spent the
past hour on the phone with Indra, and Clarke was just about dying to know what
she’d talked about – but for that moment, she held back her questions and they
focused on the TV.
Clarke watched Lexa carefully as video footage of her parents being arrested and
taken into police cars was shown on the screen – Lexa made no attempt to conceal
her joy, the sheer happiness in her face so apparent that Clarke couldn’t resist
the temptation to give her cheek a kiss.
“They’ve been charged,” Lexa said in astonishment while the reporter went on to
describe what they already knew, “They’ve been arrested. There’s…Clarke, they’re
going to prison for this.”
“That’s good, right?”
Lexa turned her eyes away from the screen and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, it
is.”
“You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
“No, I won’t.”
“And your uncle…” Clarke shuddered at just the thought. “Thank god he’ll be out of
the way. And you know what happens to pedophiles in prison…”
Lexa let out a laugh. “Got what he deserved.”
When Clarke didn’t join her, or even smile, Lexa grew a little worried. “What is
it?”
“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Lexa shook her head and answered her quickly. “No. Never.”
“Good, ‘cause I was a little worried…”
“No, he never- don’t worry.”
“Hard not to, given your family consists of _assholes_ …”
“Assholes on the highway to prison-” Lexa reminded her.
“True.”
“You’re still worried.”
Clarke nodded, and Lexa wrapped an arm around her waist before drawing her hand
into hers and allowing Clarke to rest her head on her shoulder.
“Are you _sure_ none of the papers have your name?”
“One of them does, according to Indra – they put up a shell corporation in my name,
but it was started when I was only 2, so Indra’s already in the process of getting
me erased from the documents. I don’t even know how they managed, it shouldn’t be
legal- but anyway. There’s no way anyone’s going to believe a 2 year old consented
to embezzlement – legally speaking, I can’t be held responsible for any of those
crimes because they all took place before I was 7. So that should be fine.”
Clarke sighed and rested her head back against Lexa’s shoulder. “Thank god.”
“We’re okay.”
It was a statement of a fact, but Lexa sounded so astonished that Clarke couldn’t
help but take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe not quite yet. I’m
pretty sure there’ll be an investigation, and you’ll be dragged into it at least to
give statements, and then the media-“
“But we’re not…they can’t get at us.”
“There’s still the lawsuit-?”
“From what I understood from Indra, they’ve withdrawn. I suppose attacking your own
daughter for money would only add to the bad press they’re getting right now.”
Clarke smiled and turned her head to press a gentle kiss to Lexa’s cheek. “See?
Told ya it’d be fine.”
“But-“
“Oh, no, Lexa, no buts, I’m done with there always being a but-“
Lexa nudged Clarke and laughed. “ _But_ I still think this isn’t it.”
“Of course not. Your parents were arrested. Hell, they’re in the middle of just
about the biggest scandal of the year, and you’re stuck in it too. I wouldn’t be
surprised if you wouldn’t be able to walk down the street for days without being
tackled by reporters. Weeks, even.”
“Why do you sound so happy?”

Clarke turned Lexa’s head so that she could kiss her full on the lips. “That means
you’re stuck here, at home, with me. All day. And you don’t have that lawsuit to
worry about anymore, so…”
Lexa grinned and kissed her again. “That is true. Indra told me I should take at
least a week off – having me connected to any cases right now isn’t such a good
idea, even though my name is changed. They’re linked to so much corruption with
judges all over the state and the country that it’s just smart to at least wait for
the uproar to die down a little bit. Not to mention what you said about not being
able to walk down the street without being stopped is most likely true.”
“I’m going to send Raven flowers. And beer. And everything else I can think of,”
Clarke murmured against her lips. “That idiot genius fixed everything and made it
all better.”
Lexa hummed. “I have some pictures of Anya from when we were younger. Pictures Anya
would never _, ever_ , want anyone to see.”
Clarke withdrew and looked at her with her eyebrows raised. “Oh?”
“Lets just say that parties with rich kids can get very…wild.” Lexa smirked. “Even
Anya could get crazy in college, believe it or not.”
“Oh my god I have to see these pictures.”
Lexa laughed. “If Anya ever finds out, she’ll kill you.”
“She’ll kill Raven if you give her the pictures.”
“She wouldn’t do that. And Raven would most definitely appreciate them.”
“How come?”
“Anya may or may not be very underdressed in most of the pictures.”
“Lexa!”
“What? They’re from spring break, the ones where she’s not wearing much-“
“You made it sound like you have nudes of Anya or something.”
“God, no. I just have pictures of her being cute and a drunk mess and I know she
doesn’t show that side often, even to Raven, so I figure why not give photo
evidence. And I’m sure she’ll appreciate the fact that Anya’s mostly wearing a
bikini in all the photos.”
“Anya’s going to murder you.”
Lexa chuckled. “Most likely.”
“But Raven will love you forever.”
“That’s the plan.”
“So that’s what we’re doing? Giving Raven pictures of Anya as a thank you?”
Lexa nodded in a very exaggerated way, in response to which Clarke rolled her eyes.
“Then it’s settled. I’m going to betray Anya for the sake of thanking Raven for
saving our asses.”
“You sounded like an idiot just then.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“You know, I think I should call Mom. Let her know we’re okay.”
Lexa nodded and reached over for the phone, and expected Clarke to move away – but
Clarke just dialled the number and put the phone on speaker, and gave Lexa a shy
grin before Abby answered.
“Hey, Clarke.”
“Hey, Mom. You’re on speaker, Lexa’s here.”
“Hi Abby.” Lexa said.
“Hi Lexa, Clarke.” Abby sighed. “So how are you? With the whole…scandal thing?”
“We’re fine, Mom. It’s a huge mess, but we’re not affected – well, not that we now
of, anyway.”
“How’s the lawsuit?”
“Withdrawn.”
“And Lexa? How are you?”
Lexa was surprised to be included in the conversation, and stammered to find a

response. She’d come closer to Abby in the few months, but there was still a
novelty to the relationship between them that she was yet to fully grow accustomed
to.
“I’m okay, I guess. Happy that they got exposed.”
“You knew, didn’t you?”
Lexa sighed. “Yes, I did. Not the whole extent, but enough to know what they were
doing was illegal on multiple counts.”
“It’s fucking disgusting, pardon my language, but it is.”
“You’re right, it is.”
“But you’re not involved? Your name wasn’t involved in any crimes, or-?”
“No, thank god.”
Clarke smiled and added: “They’ve dug their own grave and Raven just gave them the
push they needed.”
“Raven-?” Abby asked, astonished. Then, only a split second later, she continued in
a more serious tone: “What did Raven do _this time_?”
Clarke laughed at her mother's tone – of course, this wasn’t the first time Raven
had done something stupid, but it was certainly the first time that Clarke was
overbearingly proud that she’d gone ahead and done the stupid thing despite knowing
it was stupid.
“Raven didn’t tell me much, but what I understood was that she went ahead and,
well, told someone to expose the Woods. Or told someone to tell someone else to do
it. I’m not entirely sure, but bottom line is that without Raven, none of this…the
leak, everything, it wouldn’t have happened.”
Abby was quiet for a while. “Can she get in trouble for that?”
Clarke looked at Lexa. “I don’t know. Lexa?”
“Depends on what she said, how she worded it, and whether or not it can be proven
that she did anything.”
“How likely is it that she gets in trouble?”
“Very unlikely. Considering someone’s already readily claimed responsibility for

the leak, it’s unlikely that anyone will investigate into anything past the leakers
themselves.”
“The Mission, you mean.”
“Yeah.”
“A lame name, but at least they’re doing the right thing.”
“Although it is illegal.”
“May be, but you two sound much happier already. And I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Clarke said. “And I’m sure Raven will be fine, too. She’s a little
stressed right now, but I’m sure once I drag Lexa down there to reassure her,
she’ll be fine.”
“Why’d she do it?”
Clarke sighed. “For me. Us. She- I talked to you about this, how stressed I was?”
“Yes, you did.”
“She saw it too and decided to put an end to it.”
They could practically hear the smile on Abby’s lips. “She’s a smart girl.
Headstrong and a little too fond of risks, maybe, but smart.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll send her cookies.”
“White chocolate-“
“And macadamia, yes, Clarke, I know what Raven likes best. It’s impossible to not
notice the speed at which my cookie tin empties out whenever she visits.”
Clarke laughed. “Alright, well, I think we gotta go.”
“Alright. Good night. Love you.”
“Love you too.”

* * *
Meanwhile in the apartment next door, Raven was laying on the bed incapable of much
thought. She’d had a couple of beers to celebrate and to calm her nerves, and a few
more drinks later in the evening. Anya had left in the morning for her shift – it
was nearing ten now, and thankfully Anya only had half a day’s work that day; Raven
wasn’t so sure she would’ve readily been able to sleep through the night without
Anya there. She was due home any second.
There was a knock on the door, and Raven stood up for the first time in a few
hours, the alcohol rushing down to her limbs and making her realize that she was
drunker than she’d planned for. She stumbled her way to the door and yanked it
open, and before she fully registered who was there, she spoke.
“Anya, did you lose your key?”
“Uh, Raven-“
But it wasn’t Anya – it was Lexa and Clarke, and on both their faces was a look of
surprise. Raven then realized she was wearing no bra and only her boxers, and let
out a huff before grabbing a hoodie from the hooks behind the door and pulling it
on.
“I’m decent now. What’s up?”
Clarke let out a chuckle when she heard the slight slur in Raven’s voice. “Are you
drunk?”
“No.”
“You’re tipsy at least.”
“Maybe.”
“Raven-“
“I know it’s sad to be drinking alone, judge me if you like, but I’ve been so
nervous I couldn’t relax.”
“That’s why we’re here. Can we come in?”
Raven stepped aside. “Sure thing.”
Clarke and Lexa sat down on the bar stools and Raven leaned on the counter, a
little heavier than usual because in that moment her limbs felt like very heavy
spaghetti. Lexa wasn’t sure where to start, and neither was Clarke, but thankfully,
Raven had a skill for managing awkward silences.
“So, what’d you need to talk to me about?”
Clarke nudged Lexa, who jumped a little before speaking. “Uh, we just- well, we
want to thank you, for all that you did, and I know you’re worried but trust me –
you’re not getting in trouble for this.”
“You don’t know that.”

“Even if you did say some names in a conversation, it’s a very flimsy case for
anyone to try and prosecute.”
“You sure?”
Lexa smiled. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll represent you, or I’ll get Indra to do it-“
“No, you. You’re great. I want you.” Raven decided. “If I go to court, I want you
to rep me. And if I go to prison, you better get me into a nice one.”
Clarke laughed. “You’re not going to prison, Raven.”
“I might.”
“Trust me, you’re not. Don’t worry.”
“Aren’t you guys mad at me?”
The slur in Raven’s voice only added to the apparent worry that was present in her
tone – Clarke let out a sigh and reached over to grab her hand and gave it a little
squeeze.
“No, Raven, we’re not mad at you.”
“Even though I went behind your backs and caused a shitstorm?”
“Raven, what you did- genius. Idiotic, the dumbest thing you’ve done, but genius.
If I weren’t married to Lexa, I’d kiss you right now-“
“Ew, no.”
“Hey!” Lexa interjected. “She’s not gross.”
“To me she is,” Raven said. “I’ve kissed her once and it tasted awful.”
“Raven!”
“What?”
“Okay, firstly, I had just puked so of course it was awful, and secondly, didn’t we
agree to _never_ speak of that again?”
Raven shrugged. “Oops.”
“You idiot.”
“You love me.”
“Of course I do. Speaking of which-“ Clarke reached into her pocket and retrieved
an envelope. “Here. A little gift from us to you, as a thank you.”
“Is it money?” Raven asked as she took the envelope into her hands.
“No, it’s something better. And we’re buying you beer and taking you out to
celebrate this properly later, once Lexa’s less likely to get harassed on the
street.”
“That’s awesome,” Raven muttered as she pulled out the photos in the envelope. Upon
seeing them, her eyes widened, and a moment later her entire face was radiating
pure joy. “Oh my god. These are…amazing. When were these taken?”
“Spring break. A few years apart, some of them. Figured you’d appreciate them more
than I do.”
Raven wasn’t paying much attention – no, she was very taken by the pictures, and
Clarke and Lexa took that as their cue to leave. Clarke gave Raven one last hug
before they left, and Raven was left alone in the apartment to flit through photos
of a younger and drunker Anya, laughing and wearing little to nothing.
She didn’t even notice Anya coming home, not until there was a hand on her back and
a chin on her shoulder, and she had no time at all to hide the pictures before Anya
had seen them and yanked them from her hands.
“Where did you get these!?” Anya demanded.
Raven tried to grab the pictures, but Anya hopped a few feet from her and gave her
a glare. “Raven-“
“Lexa gave them to me,” Raven grunted as she tried to get the pictures, “As a thank
you for what I did.”
“These? What- I’m going to kill her, oh my god-“
“Anya, give them back.”
Anya was backed up against the couch, and with one quick push she’d fallen onto it,
and Raven climbed onto her before she could react. Even when drunk, Raven was still
quick and managed to startle Anya enough to give her a few seconds of a daze during
which she managed to snatch the pictures back into her hands. She couldn’t get up,
though, because Anya’s arms wrapped around her waist and kept her in place.
“Raven, give them here.”
“No.”
“Raven, they’re awful. I have to burn them.”
“No way!” Raven said quickly. “Anya, they’re so cute. You’re so cute in them, and
so pretty…no, there’s no way I’m letting you burn them.”
“Raven, they’re so embarrassing. I was so drunk-“
“Exactly why they’re so cute. And that bikini…” Raven smirked. “It’s gorgeous. The
less you wear, the more I like you.”
“So you only like me for my body?”
Raven shrugged and let her lips graze against Anya’s lips as she spoke. “It’s one
aspect of you that I really, really like.”
“Raven, your breath stinks of beer and whiskey.”
Raven kissed her anyway, and Anya made no attempt to push her away. “It’s a
delicious taste and you know it.”
“No, it tastes like a frat house in your mouth,” Anya grumbled. But she kissed her
again nevertheless.
“You wanna-“ Raven asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
“Raven, you’re drunk.”
“Not very drunk,” Raven muttered. “I wanna fuck you. Please.”
“What’s with you?”
“What?”
“You’ve got a weird look in your eye.”
“Maybe it’s just this one picture…” Raven murmured, leaning in for another kiss.
“Of you. And another girl.”
“Wait, what?”
Raven kissed her again, this time with more demand, but Anya pushed her away.
“Raven, what picture?”
“Promise not to take them away if I show you?”
“Promise.”
“Cross your heart?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Cross my heart.”
Raven flitted through the pictures to the one she’d been looking at right before
Anya walked in – it was Anya, sitting on the beach with a girl in her lap, not an
inch between them, Anya’s hands on the girl’s ass and the girl’s hands in Anya’s
hair, her head covering Anya’s but it was obvious they were kissing.
Anya saw the picture and actually blushed.
“Who’s she?” Raven asked, trying to sound cool and collected. But she wasn’t, not
really – she hated that picture, seeing Anya with someone else, despite knowing
that this had taken place years before. It still stung.
Anya shrugged. “I- I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
“Maybe?”
“Tell me.”
“Is it important?”
“I’m curious.”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Her name’s Miranda. She was in my anatomy class.”
“Was she hot?”
Anya sighed and sought out Raven’s lips, but Raven pulled back.
“Anya, was she?”

“Are you just fucking with me right now?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Raven, you’re jealous.”
“No I’m not.”
“You’re jealous of a girl I fucked one time during spring break and then
consequently forgot about until now.”
“Clarke forgot about Lexa and now look where they are.”
Anya grabbed Raven’s face and kissed her roughly before speaking again. “Raven,
you’re an idiot.”
“Am not.”
“A drunk idiot with a mouth that tastes like cheap beer and jealousy.”
“You don’t know what jealousy tastes like.”
“I didn’t mean it literally.”
Raven grumbled but gave Anya’s lips another kiss. “Was she hotter than me?”
“Of course not.”
“Good.”
“You want me to say she was hideous and the worst decision of my life, don’t you?”
Raven shrugged, and Anya let out a laugh as she stood up with Raven in her arms,
the pictures falling out of Raven’s hands and onto the floor. “You’re an idiot,
Raven,” she muttered as she carried Raven towards the bedroom, “An absolute moron.”
“You’re so kind to me.”
Anya laid Raven down and climbed atop her, capturing her lips for another kiss
before pulling away to flash her a smile. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And,” Anya began as she dipped her head down to kiss Raven’s neck, “I’ve never
loved anyone before you. So there’s no one you have to be jealous of. If anything,
they should all be jealous of you.”
"I can't help it," Raven muttered.
"Can't you?"
“I just don’t like the thought of you with other people.”
“Do you think about that a lot?”
Raven sighed, and Anya stopped what she was doing to look into her eyes and found a
twinge of insecurity, poorly concealed.
“Raven?”
“Maybe?”
“Why?”
“You said it yourself. I’m an annoying idiot and a moron and I smell bad and-“
“Oh, god,” Anya grumbled, realizing Raven had hit the sad and mopey stage of her
drunkenness. “Raven, you’re drunk-“ she cut herself off before she called Raven an
idiot again – while it was fine at all other times, right now Raven definitely
would not take her playfully calling her an idiot the right way.
“And you don’t really smell that bad. I probably smell worse, considering the
amounts of bodily fluids spilled on me today. Not even the two showers I took can
fully flush that away.”
“But you’re so perfect and I’m a mess.”
Anya sighed. “Raven, that’s not true.”
“Name one thing you’re bad at.”
“Talking? Making friends? Being smooth, like you? Being funny?”
“But like, you’re so smart and-“
“Raven, you’re infinitely smarter than me.”
“And you’re so pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. And then there’s me-“
“Who’s all those things and more,” Anya cut in. “Raven, shut up. You don’t know
what you’re saying right now.”
“But why would you bother with me?”
Anya grinned and kissed her softly and for a long time. “Because you’re the
smartest, cutest, sexiest and funniest idiot I’ve ever met in my life.”
Raven didn’t say anything, and so Anya kissed her again before adding: “Now, how
about I show you just how much I love you?”
“How exactly?”
“Whatever you want, you get.”
“I wanna top you.”
“Raven, you’re slurring. I don’t think you're capable en-“
Raven pushed Anya over so that she was on top – for being so small, she was
freakishly strong, and Anya was always surprised by her strength. “Yes, I can,”
Raven murmured as she bent down to kiss Anya, “I may be drunk but I will top you
hard. I want to.”
“Then do.”
“Did Miranda ever top you hard?”
Anya made a face. “Who?”

It was a lie, but it was exactly what Raven needed to hear, and the grin that
stretched onto her lips was more than worth a little lie. It was no surprise that
she’d be a little insecure, given everything that was going on – Anya hadn’t even
been surprised to find her drunk, knowing Raven was likely to be a nervous wreck,
and was only glad that she could ease her nerves in any way possible.
Not to mention getting topped by a hungry, slightly drunk and slightly jealous
Raven was something Anya really couldn’t ever say no to.
> ah i missed Ranya <3

> and i know some of you wanted Abby so i threw some Abby in, she'll be back soon-
ish for a little more cutesy mom and daughter and daughter-in-law bonding
67. Chapter 67
> there was supposed to be Woods suffering and asskicking(not literal asskicking
but y'all know what i mean) but then fluff appeared and i just went with it
The next morning Lexa was woken at 8 am sharp by a phone call from Indra. Clarke
grumbled and pulled the covers over her head, and Lexa muttered a few curses before
grabbing the phone and getting out to let Clarke have her peace.
“Morning, Indra.”
“Good morning,” Indra said. “You’re needed for some questions at the station
tomorrow.”
“That’s all fine, right?” Lexa asked. “I’m not being charged-“
“No, you’re not. They want to ask you questions about your parents.”
“That should be fine. Tomorrow?”
“Yes, at 1. I’ll arrange for a car to get you.”
“That’d be great, yeah. Anything new come up?”
“Well, there’s evidence that your parents used their money to…well, in essence, the
extent of their manipulation of your life has come to light. In all fairness, you
could file another suit to-“
“I won’t do that,” Lexa cut off. “I don’t need any more of their money, especially
if it’s dirty.”
“Fair enough.”
“But are they in custody now?”
“Yes, and I believe they will be transported to Sing Sing later this week.”
“How about my uncle?”
“He will be sent to a federal prison, given his crime spanned not only multiple
states but countries.”
“Good.”
“How about you? Your phone should be alright to use now, and I hope you haven’t had
anyone knocking on your door.”
“No, we haven’t. Thus far all’s good.”
“That’s great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Should I do some work from home?”
“If you like, but I’m not requiring you to. Take a break.”
Lexa smiled. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When Lexa walked back into the bedroom, she found Clarke had fallen back asleep –
she’d stretched out in the middle of the bed, the sheets only covering her lower
body and leaving her entire back bare and for Lexa to admire. Her tattoo was
illuminated in the soft morning light, the wing running over her shoulder blade to
her arm looking darker and somehow more prominent than usual. Lexa stood in the
doorway for a moment, not daring to disturb the sight before her; Clarke’s face was
turned to the side, her mouth was a little open, and Lexa could’ve sworn she saw a
little dribble of drool at the corner of her mouth. She laughed softly and shook
her head as she went over to the bed and promptly climbed over and on top of
Clarke, eliciting an annoyed groan from the blonde under her.
“Get off me,” Clarke grumbled. “You’re too hot.”
“Damn right I am,” Lexa murmured as she settled fully on top of Clarke and ran a
hand along her arm. “And no, I’m not getting off.”
“It’s too hot.”
“If I open the balcony door, can I stay here then?”
“What, on top of me? Like some weird sandwich?”
“I wanna cuddle.”
“We literally cuddled all night.”
“Yes, but I want more. I haven’t seen you nearly enough.”
“That is true,” Clarke yawned. “Why is it so hot in here?”
“Might be because you’re wearing sweatpants,” Lexa suggested as she made her way
back to Clarke from the balcony door.
Clarke went to take the sweatpants off, but froze mid-way. Lexa saw the look of
pure horror in Clarke’s eyes, and almost knew what it was before Clarke even said a
thing.
“Oh my god, I’ve ruined the sheets.”
Clarke threw the sheets away from her, revealing a bloody mess spread all over the
bed and her sweatpants and just about everywhere imaginable.
“Oh my god,” Lexa repeated. “That’s…a mess.”
“Fucking shit.”
Clarke darted up from bed and hurried off to the bathroom, and Lexa let out a
gentle laugh as she gathered the sheets and went downstairs to their newly
renovated laundry room to put them in the wash. She came back a while later with
salt and some club soda, and started on washing the stain out of the mattress
itself. By the time she was more or less done, Clarke had come out of the shower,
and was standing nearby looking thoroughly embarrassed.
“Don’t look so ashamed,” Lexa laughed, “It happens to us all.”
“I bled everywhere, Lexa. You didn’t even _see_ how bad it was in my pants.”
Lexa made a little ‘aww’ noise and wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist. “I’m
sorry you’re on your period.”
“I hate this.”
“I wanted to spend the week having sex and wearing little to no clothing, and now
this has just…ruined it.”
“It doesn’t have to ruin it,” Lexa murmured into her ear, “Just means we gotta be
more careful of messes.”
Clarke let out a laugh. “I feel hideous and bloated and all I want is some ice
cream and to watch Cake Boss.”
“Then we’ll do that,” Lexa nodded. “But you’re not hideous or bloated. Just your
perfect self, as always.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am not.”
Clarke sighed and gave Lexa a quick kiss before walking past her to the closet.
“I’m taking your hoodie and leggings, by the way,” she called from inside, “It’s
the least you can do.”
“What? It’s not like I made your period come a week early!”
“Please?”
“Of course you can take them,” Lexa laughed, “But don’t blame me for you having an
irregular uterus.”
A shirt was chucked into her face, and Lexa laughed again. Clarke, however, shot
her a glare. “Shut up.”
“You’re adorable.”
“I’m hideous. Just wait, tomorrow my face will be all blotchy and there’ll be
pimples and it’ll be gross 15-year-old puberty Clarke all over again.”
“I’ve seen pictures, you weren’t _that_ gross. 15-year-old teen me would’ve totally
liked you.”
“Oh really? You wouldn’t have even noticed me,” Clarke said, “I was the loser who
always sat alone on the bleachers with her sketchbook.”
“You did have friends-“
“Not good ones.”
“Aw, you poor baby,” Lexa smiled, wrapping an arm around Clarke’s waist and drawing
her close. “I would’ve been your friend in middle school.”
“High school, Lexa. Freshman year.”
“Really? God, I’m old.”
Clarke laughed and rested her head against Lexa’s shoulder. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m only like a year older than you, though.”
“Doesn’t matter, granny.”
“I find it disturbing that you call me that.”
“Old lady.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Lexa went in for a kiss, but Clarke withdrew with a sly smirk on her face. “Nope.”
“What?”
“I almost burped in your face,” Clarke snickered, “Let’s just not. That would just
be embarrassing.”
“You’re a mess.”
“I’m your mess.”
“And I’ll manage your messiness,” Lexa declared as she promptly picked Clarke up
with a squeal spilling from Clarke’s lips, “By taking your majesty downstairs for
some blueberry pancakes and a generous serving of whipped cream.”
“Don’t you dare drop me.”
Lexa laughed. “As if I’d ever drop you.”
She maneuvered the two of them down the stairs skilfully enough, and set Clarke
down on the counter to wait while she whipped up the pancakes.
“You know we’re grossly cheesy, don’t you?” Clarke asked. “Raven’s jokes are more
than right when it comes to us.”
Lexa cracked an egg and flashed Clarke a smile before returning to whisking the
batter. “Yes, I do. It’s gross.”
“But I kinda love it.”

“We’re grossly cute, but I don’t think we really try to be so – it just happens,
right?”
“Our kids are going to _hate_ us.”
Lexa let out a laugh. “They’ll be groaning whenever we so much as hold hands.”
“Don’t all kids do that?”
Lexa shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure my parents only ever kissed once a
year, on their anniversary. Probably written into their marital contract.”
Clarke laughed. “Well, from what I’ve seen of Mom with her boyfriends, and what I
remember of Dad, it’s gross.”
“But they’ll love it, I’m sure.”
“Oh they better, or they’re getting disowned.”
* * *
Anya woke up around midday to find Raven had somehow shuffled downwards during the
night, so that she now lay in between her legs with her head on Anya’s stomach, one
arm draped over Anya’s thigh, her hand resting right below her right hip bone. It
was a strange position, but Raven looked comfortable, and so Anya rested back and
considered going back to sleep. But this was her one day off before a 48 hour
shift, and she wanted to spend it with Raven.
More specifically, she had news she wanted to share with Raven.
And so she gently nudged Raven awake, smiling warmly upon seeing Raven wipe away
the crust from her eyes and yawn before sitting up. Her hair was an absolute mess,
and she looked like one too, and yet, she was breath-taking with the morning sun
blaring at her and illuminating her face.
“The sun burns,” Raven muttered. “Can you turn it off?”
Anya reached over to the side to draw the blinds, and Raven sighed contently when
the slight headache eased upon the hazy darkness.
“Hungover?” Anya asked gently as she sat up.
Raven nodded slightly. “Just a little.”
“A headache?”
“Yep.”
“Should’ve drank that water,” Anya smirked.
“I’ll just go drink it now.”
Anya stayed in bed and waited for Raven to come back, thinking over how she could
word what she had to say. She was almost sure Raven was going to be excited, but
wasn’t so confident on how well she could deliver the news.
“Aren’t you getting breakfast?” Raven asked. “I for one am starving.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” Anya told her. “Just waited for you to get out of the
bathroom.”
Raven grabbed a shirt – Anya’s, of course, almost all the clothes she wore nowadays
were Anya’s, given the fact that she herself owned maybe four shirts in total as
opposed to Anya’s extensive collection of shirts and blouses.
She was halfway through making herself some eggs when Anya walked into the kitchen.
A gentle hand on her hip and a soft kiss on her cheek was more than enough to ease
her hangover even the slightest bit, and Anya then busied herself with making
coffee and herself some oatmeal.
“Oatmeal is gross,” Raven pointed out as they sat at the isle and ate. “It looks
like blandness.”
“It’s healthy.”
“It looks disgusting.”
“You ate oatmeal once. I saw you.”
“That’s because there wasn’t anything else. And it tasted like soggy cardboard.”
Anya took up a scoop and raised the spoon at her. “Have some and tell me this isn’t
good.”
Raven pursed her lips. “No way.”
“Come on, one bite.”
“It’s gross.”
“I’ll give you a massage if you do it?”
“Okay, fine.”
Raven took the bite and Anya watched as Raven tried to find anything she disliked
about it. But she knew Raven wouldn’t – she’d made her oatmeal with apple bits and
apple sauce and cinnamon, and knew very well that it essentially tasted like apple
pie. There was no way she could hate it.
“Well?”
Raven shot her a glare and returned to scarfing down her toast with eggs. “Shut
up.”
“Admit it, it was good.”
“Fine, it tasted like apple pie. Shut up.”
“Told you.”
“I’m still sticking to my eggs.”
“Sure you will.”
They ate in silence or a moment, but Raven soon grew very aware of the fact that
Anya was tense – she could see Anya had something to say, and so she set aside her
food and looked at her in concern.
“What is it?”
Anya shrugged. “Oh, nothing. I just have some news for you, that’s all. But it can
wait.”
“No, tell me.”
“I got offered another job,” Anya shrugged.
Raven froze. “Did you take it?”
“I’m considering it.”
“Where?”
“Papua New Guinea.”
“When?” Raven asked. “How- how long?”
“Twelve months, starting in July.”
“July? It’s March now!”
Anya nodded. “I know.”
“No, you- is it dangerous?”
“No, it’s not an area of armed conflict. It’s safer than the other alternatives.”
Raven let out a breath. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, Raven, I’m sure.”
“So you want to go?”
Anya shrugged. “I’ve never been to Papua New Guinea.”
“So that’s a yes,” Raven sighed, setting down her fork and getting up. She felt
like she needed to move to keep her head clear. She felt a little nauseous at the
thought of Anya leaving again, and for twelve months – no, Raven didn’t want that.
She hated the whole idea.
Anya sighed and took Raven’s hand into hers, pulling her closer till she stood
close enough that she could wrap her arms around her waist and pull her into her
lap. “Raven, there’s more.”
“More? What more could there possibly be?” Raven questioned. “You’re leaving again,
and for a year-"
“You could come with me.”
Raven’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
“They don’t only need doctors,” Anya explained. “They need what’s called technical
logisticians, and it’s basically engineering and actual hands-on mechanics work and
vehicle management and maintenance and upkeep of the medical facilities, and that
stuff…”
“But…a job? For twelve months?”
“I talked to some people, and they said they’d be willing to give you a shot.”
“They haven’t even met me.”
“They trust me.”
“You don’t even know my credentials, or if I’m capable-“
“Raven, I saw you fix your car in less than five minutes from what I would’ve
deemed a doomed case. And you’re basically a genius. I know you can do this.”
“Maybe.”
“So would you?”
Raven chewed her lip and thought it over once. And then for a second time. And then
a third.
“Raven?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been quiet for a minute or two. You alright?”
“Uh, yeah – wait, hold on. You’re asking me to come overseas with you for a year?
To Papua New Guinea?”
Anya nodded, but said nothing, and Raven realized then that Anya was insecure about
the whole thing.
“This is…I don’t even know what to say, but I need to…holy shit, this is awesome.”
Anya had thought Raven hated the idea. She really had, and so when Raven finished
her sentence with ‘awesome’, her eyes widened.
“Really?”
Raven laughed and cupped her face before kissing her fully. “Yes, really. You had
me at ‘actual hands-on mechanics work’.”
Anya smiled. “So you’ll consider it?”
“Hell, I’ll take it. But only if you come with.”
“As if I’d let you fly off to Papua New Guinea for a year without me,” Anya
scoffed.
“Holy shit, I didn’t even know that was a possibility – I mean, wow,” Raven
stammered, “And technical logistician? I’ve never heard a fancier term for a
mechanic in my life.”
Anya smiled. “So you’re on board with this?”
“Give me a few days to think and make sure I'm not being too rash, but right now,
I’m thinking yes. All the yeses.”
“I just thought, since Clarke and Lexa are moving to San Francisco, we could…well,
I don’t know. You don’t have to take it, and I won’t take the job if you don’t want
me to-“
“I’ve never even traveled to another continent,” Raven told her. “I would fucking
love to travel. And live somewhere else for a year.”
“I warn you, Netflix probably doesn’t stream in Papua New Guinea.”
“So then I’ll just entertain myself in other ways,” Raven shrugged, dipping her
head down to kiss Anya’s neck. “I’m sure we’ll find ways to have...fun.”
“I’ll be working day and night.”
“So what? There’ll be lunch breaks and coffee breaks and stuff. I can be quick when
necessary.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You think you can withstand me with you in a small camp for twelve months?” Raven
asked. “’Cause I can assure you, I’m just as annoying all the time-“
“Don’t I know it,” Anya sighed. “But no. I want you there. I- I wouldn’t go if you
weren’t coming.”
“Then I’m coming,” Raven decided. “Let’s have ourselves an adventure.”
> poor Clarke baby on her period and Lexa being so good to her (also i like to
think that these two grossly cute idiots are more than aware of their own grossness
and probably cringe at it at times)
> Also, Ranya!!! i love them too much
68. Chapter 68
> i keep trying to write plot but then i get sidetracked

> this time i got distracted by smut so there's smut because there hasn't been
enough clexa smut lately, enjoy
The car picked Lexa up at quarter past midday the next day. Clarke came along, not
by Lexa’s invitation but because of her own choosing – she didn’t really feel like
letting Lexa go alone, especially when she knew there’d be reporters and
uncomfortable questions about her parents to expect. Lexa needed that support.
Lexa wore her blazer and skirt, the same ones she’d worn to court, and they both
had their own respective flashbacks to that time of anxiety. While their situation
was of course infinitely better now than what it had been, there was still that air
of anxiety that they were yet to clear.
Clarke worried that the anxiety would never truly go away.
Lexa worried the anxiety would only find more plausible causes to live on in their
lives.
But they got out of their apartment and climbed into the car together, and Clarke
held Lexa’s hand the whole way to the police station.
“We’ll be fine,” she muttered. “You’ll be just fine.”
Lexa nodded, though her jaw was clenched to signal that she was still relatively
stressed. “I’d really rather not be doing this.”
“Think of it this way. By doing this, you’re helping your parents be put away in
prison. Maybe even for life.”
“That’d be the dream,” Lexa hummed. “Them, gone forever.”
“Let’s make it a reality.”
“That’s up to the judge, and the DA-“
Clarke laughed. “I know, I know. I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Right.”
They arrived at the police station, and upon seeing the small crowd of reporters
waiting outside, Lexa tensed up. The instant the doors were opened, there was a
swarm of reporters around them, flashing lights and microphones shoved in their
faces and cameras watching their every move as they tried to push their way through
to the door.
“Miss Griffin, how are you involved with this?”
“Miss Griffin, were you aware of your parents’ illegal activities?”
“Miss Griffin, what did you think when you-“
Lexa drowned out the questions and clung to Clarke’s hand almost desperately as she
pushed through the crowd and got to the door. Some kindly soul opened it for her,
and she dragged herself and Clarke inside, the silence provided by the walls around
them setting her panic back down again.
“Jesus,” Clarke muttered, “They’re brutal. You okay?”
Lexa nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You’re really pale. You sure you’re fine?”
Lexa took a deep breath and shook her head to clear her mind. "Yeah, yeah. Just a
little shaken. There were so many of them."
"You sure you can do this now?"
“I’m here, aren’t I? Might as well get this over with.”
Clarke nodded, and followed along as Lexa went over to the desk to announce her
arrival. When a while later a few detectives came over to greet her, Clarke was
shown to a corner with a few seats and a TV, showing the news on an endless loop
with the volume down too low and the remote nowhere to be seen.
She waited patiently, flipping through the magazines of the waiting area over and
over again for what ended up being almost an hour and a half, until _finally_ Lexa
emerged from a room, looking as exhausted as ever. Clarke stood up and went over to
greet her, and smiled at the detectives who came in after her.
“Um, excuse me, Miss Griffin?”
Both Lexa and Clarke looked at the detectives expectantly, and the one who’d
spoken, an Agent Rizzi, realized her mistake a little while later. “Right, sorry,
Clarke Griffin, I mean- could we ask you a few questions? We just want to be
thorough with the investigation.”
Clarke glanced at Lexa, who nodded. “Um, yeah, okay. Sure.”
She gave Lexa a quick peck to the cheek before following the detectives into the
interrogation room, where she was seated before a desk that she’d thus far only
seen in police shows. There was a mirror on one wall, no doubt concealing a second
room from which anyone could see her – the thought of being watched without her
knowledge set Clarke into a state of uneasiness, and she shifted uncomfortably in
her seat as the detectives went through some papers before spreading them in front
of her.
“Right, Miss Griffin, this all goes on the record and will be recorded. Do you
consent to this?”
Clarke nodded. “I do.”
“Good. So you confirm that you are Clarke Griffin, the wife of Lexa Griffin, neé
Alexandria Woods?”
“Yes.”
“And you are aware of the scandal surrounding her parents, having come to light
from a recent information leak?”
“Yes.”
“There have been some claims by the accused that you or your wife may have had
something to do with this leak. Is this true?”
“No, not at all.”
The detective looked at Clarke for a while. “Figured as much. They have much to pit
against you, do they not?”
“I think I wouldn’t be wrong in saying they hate both Lexa and myself,” Clarke
sighed. “I’m sure you have the records from the court case we won a few months ago
against them. They should give you a good picture of just why they would accuse us
of causing this.”
“Yes, we just wanted to clarify that fact. Now, about their financials and illegal
activities – according to your wife, she had some idea, but had no concrete proof
and was frankly too afraid to speak up about her suspicions.”
_Oh, Lexa,_ Clarke smiled to herself. _Honest as always._
The detective took a moment to decipher her notes before continuing. “She told us
that she had no conscious or consenting involvement in these illegal activities
perpetrated by her parents. Can you confirm this?”
“Yes. From what I understand, Lexa didn’t do anything – she didn’t have any control
over anything in her life when she lived with them. There’s no way they would’ve
let her make any decisions in anything, let alone finances or properties and stuff
like that.”
“Yes, that appears to be the case. We’ll just have some financial details and such
for you to go through and sign off on, just your shared properties and such – we’re
trying to track down all the wealth and properties in their name and what could be
hidden away under other owners, but thus far as we can see, all the properties
listed under your wife’s and your name’s are perfectly legally attained and owned.”
Clarke faltered for a while. “My name? As in I own these properties too?”
“Yes,” the detective said. “Through your marriage, the ownership of Miss Woods –
well, Miss Griffin’s wealth is as much yours as hers. She didn’t tell you?”
“Must’ve slipped her mind.”
“Well, we’ll just have you look over these statements and see if you think they’re
accurate, and then you’re free to go. We may be more in touch, but so far as we can
see, neither you nor your wife are directly linked to this case.”
And so a while later Clarke was released, and she walked into the significantly
brighter lit hallway to find Lexa waiting for her. She was tugging at her sleeve
like she did when she was anxious, and Clarke let out a sigh before placing a hand
on her arm and smiling.
“You didn’t tell me I’m rich now.”
Lexa made a face. “I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“I own half of everything you do!”
“And, technically, I won half of whatever you own.”
Clarke laughed. “Jokes on you, that means you’ve gained half of a crappy leather
couch and a buttload of paint.”
“I love that couch.”
“Wanna go home and curl up on it?”
“God, yes.”
They slipped out through the back and managed to avoid the swarm of reporters, and
got home quickly enough – the instant they were home, they were greeted by Fish,
who had managed to get into their sock drawer. All around the apartment, socks and
underwear were sprawled out along the floors and couches, and Fish was carrying his
prized favorite in his mouth, effectively drool-drenched and completely unusable.
“Oh, Fish,” Lexa groaned, “That was my favorite sock!”
Clarke laughed. “He has good taste.”
“He’s practically eaten it!” Lexa cried as she tried to catch the puppy, but Fish
darted off elsewhere, and Lexa’s skirt did not give her enough mobility to crawl
after him. Clarke skirted around her and practically ran upstairs to their bedroom,
emerging a while later clad in her favorite sweatpants and a sweater, no bra, a
pair of wool socks on her feet.
“I’m going to crawl onto the couch and never move again,” Clarke declared as she
let herself fall onto the couch with a loud thud. “Ow.”
Lexa emerged into the living room with Fish in her arms, a drenched sock in one
hand, and laughed upon seeing Clarke looking so devastated.
“Cramps?”
“From hell,” Clarke muttered into the couch. “I can’t feel anything but pain, and
that detective kept yapping and yapping and I wanted to punch her in the face-“
Lexa hummed and set Fish down before running upstairs to change. When she came
back, she found Clarke laying on her back, looking pained as ever, and smiled
gently at the sight.
“Do you want a hot water bottle or a tummy rub?”
Clarke raised her head slightly to offer Lexa a shy grin. “Both?”
Lexa laughed and went over to put the kettle on before coming back and sitting so
that Clarke could shuffle over to lay in her lap. “You know,” Lexa began as her
palms kneaded soft circles into Clarke’s lower stomach, “You’ve ruined my cycle.”
“What do you mean I’ve ruined _your_ cycle? I’m over a week early! I’ve never been
irregular before in my life, and now after living with you, I’ve been all over the
damn place…”
“I’m coming on my period. Tomorrow, I think.”
“How can you tell?”
Lexa didn’t answer Clarke, and so Clarke cracked open an eye and repeated her
question. “Lexa, how can you tell?”
Lexa was blushing, which only made Clarke more curious. “Lexa…”
“I can’t stop thinking about sex, okay?"
"Can't stop thinking about sex?"
Lexa's face was very red, and Clarke would've laughed were it not for the fact that
Lexa was clearly embarrassed.
I’m…god, Clarke, I’m _so_ turned on and I can’t stop thinking-“
“You’re horny? Now? With me looking like a hot mess?”
Lexa frowned. “You’re never a mess. Hot, yes. Very hot. You're so hot.”
“With my blotchy face and bloated stomach and cramping uterus.”
“Yes, with your _barely_ blotchy face and squishy adorable tummy and cramping
uterus,” Lexa murmured as she leaned down to kiss Clarke’s stomach. “I just want to
fuck you and for you to fuck me, god, I just _need_ for you to fuck me - but I get
that you won’t want to do that. I understand-”
“Who says I don’t want to fuck?”
“What?”
“Are you wet right now?”

Lexa’s eyes widened at the direct question, and Clarke laughed at how flustered she
was. She sat up and swiftly moved to straddle Lexa’s lap, noticing that Lexa was
yet to answer her question, and without another word slid her hand into Lexa’s
pants to meet the slick, wet, and hot arousal that had pooled between her legs.
“Looks like you are,” Clarke murmured as she began drawing patterns with her
fingers, “Looks like you’re very wet.”
She kissed Lexa, who was very tense and taken by the whole situation, but when her
tongue dipped into Lexa’s mouth, the moan that her lips and tongue drew out was
more than indicative of Lexa’s apparent need.
“Poor baby,” Clarke continued as she slid two fingers into her wife, drawing out a
quiet gasp from Lexa's lips. “All needy and wanting, thinking I wouldn’t jump at
the chance to satisfy you…”
“Clarke-“
Clarke pushed her fingers all the way in, in a way that caused her palm to press
against Lexa’s clit, and Lexa jumped at that contact. She threw her head back,
exposing her neck to Clarke, who was more than eager to begin kissing that
sensitive skin – she sucked, and nipped, and kissed all along Lexa’s neck and jaw,
all the while her fingers fucked Lexa, reveling at how sensitive and wet Lexa was.
She hadn’t been wrong about being horny, because not minutes later Lexa was
rendered completely Clarke’s, writhing and squirming beneath her as Clarke’s
fingers continued to slowly thrust in and out of her, Clarke’s thumb pressing and
running along her clit, Clarke’s lips claiming hers hungrily and with passion that
only made her pleasure that much greater. She’d been on edge all day, jumpy and
tense from stress and anxiety but also from the intensity of the throb between her
legs, and had intended to satisfy herself later in the shower while Clarke was
napping – but this was better, so much better, and Lexa was sure she’d lose her
mind.
“Clarke, fuck – I’m gonna-“
Her mouth was left slightly open as Clarke pulled away to watch her climax, which
came not a second later when her fingers thrust all the way in and curled in a way
that set off the orgasm that clamped the muscles of Lexa’s walls around Clarke’s
fingers and sent her hips bucking, grinding against Clarke’s hand, a loud gasp
escaping Lexa’s lips when she hit the peak of her pleasure. She squirmed beneath
Clarke, and Clarke claimed her lips again, withdrawing her hand to cup Lexa’s face
with both hands, and after a while Lexa’s breaths slowed down enough that Clarke
knew she was thoroughly satisfied.
“That good?” Clarke asked quietly, her fingers tracing Lexa’s lips carefully. “Did
that help?”
Lexa smiled and nodded. “A little.”
“A little?”
“I want to fuck you.”
“Then do.”
Lexa looked at Clarke in confusion. “Wait-“
Clarke stood up and took Lexa’s hand, drawing her up with her. “Come on. Let’s go
take a shower.”
Lexa followed when Clarke dragged her along, and so they went upstairs and to the
bathroom, where Clarke got into the shower first, with Lexa standing outside for a
while, looking a little awkward.
“You’re sure?”
Clarke let out a laugh. “God, Lexa, you don’t _have_ to fuck me if you don’t want
to, but at least come shower with me. I like making out with you in here.”
Lexa shrugged her clothes off and stepped into the shower with Clarke, and with
gentle hands on Clarke’s hips she claimed her lips once again, taking control of
the situation. Her hand moved down in between Clarke’s legs almost instinctively,
but stopped before she could touch anything, drawing Clarke to pull back and look
at her in confusion.
“What?”
“This is the first time I,” Lexa muttered, “The first time I, you know. Fuck
someone on their period.”
“It’s just blood,” Clarke shrugged. “And not even that much of it.”
“You’re not sore?”
“Nope.”
“Are you wearing a tampon?”
“Nope, not right now.”
“So I can-“
“Lexa, fuck me. Please,” Clarke murmured before crashing her lips against Lexa’s.
“Please.”
Her plea was just what Lexa needed to regain her confidence, and so she pushed
Clarke back up against the wall, which was still cool against Clarke’s wet hot
skin. Clarke raised one leg which Lexa’s hand guided to wrap around her waist,
while the other ran along Clarke’s thigh to her aching pussy.
Lexa focused on Clarke’s lips, on kissing her, as she slid her fingers along
Clarke’s folds and pleasured her, drawing whimpers and moans from her lips as she
did every single one of the things that she knew drove Clarke wild with pleasure.
And then, when she had Clarke responding to even the slightest of touches, she slid
two fingers into her, carefully, assuming she’d be more sore, but Clarke’s
disappointed whimper and gasped ‘more, Lexa, please’ prompted her to add in a third
finger as she slowly began fucking her against the shower wall. Clarke gripped at
Lexa’s shoulders and allowed her to support her weight almost entirely, thankful
that they’d had the sense to buy a no-slip mat for their shower – after two close
calls with slipping during sex, they’d decided that they would either have to stop
shower sex altogether or take precautions. And now Clarke was thankful for that
mat, because it allowed her to trust Lexa’s stance enough to wrap her other leg
around Lexa’s waist and let Lexa carry and hold her, pin her against the wall
whilst her fingers fucked her relentlessly. Her cries and moans were drowned out by
the constant sound of the shower, of the hot water running along both their bodies,
and the feel of Lexa’s hot wet body against hers was so intoxicating she never
wanted it to go away. Lexa’s fingers inside her felt different, it was neither
painful or strange, if anything it was just more intense – it seemed that her g-
spot was infinitely more sensitive in that moment, with Lexa’s fingers curling and
pressing at it and drawing moans from Clarke’s lips. Her hand moved to grip the
back of Lexa’s neck firmly as she tried her best to drown out her moans into Lexa’s
mouth, and Lexa kissed her with a hunger that made Clarke feel like she was about
to faint – the heat in her core was building quickly, the pleasure so great she
couldn’t even think coherently, and all the while Lexa kept kissing her, kept
fucking her, until Clarke let out a cry and came – she came hard and long,
squirming and grinding against Lexa’s fingers and hips, her legs tightening around
Lexa’s waist until finally she was rendered a fucked mess held in Lexa’s arms.
The shower was still running, drowning out their pants and heavy breathing.
Lexa finally withdrew her fingers from Clarke, and Clarke watched in both curiosity
and concern as they were revealed to be coated in slick blood – but the shower
washed it away, so quickly there was barely any proof of it ever being there, and
she then looked at Lexa.
“That wasn’t so gross, was it?”
Lexa rolled her eyes and kissed her, finally letting her down. But Clarke didn’t
feel too strong, and so she still leaned heavily against Lexa, who wrapped her arms
around her waist and smiled into her neck.
“It wasn’t gross, Clarke,” Lexa murmured. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“My cramps are gone.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think I’m going to start wanting more of this,” Clarke said quietly. “A lot
more.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Our water bill might go up.”
“Who says we always have to shower?”
“That won’t be gross for you?”
Lexa shrugged. “Like you said. It’s just blood.”
“Blood that messes up everything.”
“So we’ll put a towel on the bed. So what?”
“You’re adorable, you know that?” Clarke smiled. “Also, your mascara is running
down your face. It looks funny.”
Lexa frowned. “I forgot I was wearing makeup.”
“See, I had the sense to wash it off when I got in the shower. You, on the other
hand…”
“Forgive me for being goal-oriented and focusing on the task at hand.”
“You look like a raccoon.”
“Shut up.”
“It’s like that war paint you see in those movies, you know. Except way cuter.”
Lexa rubbed at her eyes, and most of the makeup was only smeared even more, and
Clarke laughed. “Now you just really look like a raccoon.”
“Clarke-“
“What? You’re a really cute raccoon!”
Lexa grumbled, and so Clarke grabbed a wash cloth and gently washed the rest of the
makeup off of Lexa’s face. “There. All clean. Happy now?”
"Yep.” Lexa smiled. “Now, how about we stop wasting water and get into our PJ’s and
watch some TV?”
“I call dibs on the remote.”
“Damnit!”
“What? You’d pick some other documentary, and after that last one, I’m never
trusting you with the remote ever again.”
“It was really interesting!”
“Lexa, it was an hour-long documentary on the history of candle-making. It was a

dull-fest if I’ve ever seen one.”
“It was interesting to me-”
“Let’s pick something we’re both interested in. Like Friends or something.”
“Okay, fine, you get to pick. But I get to braid your hair.”
“Deal.”
> boom, the two adorable idiots are syncing up because they're gross cute dumbasses
in love
> i find it weird that so many of you congratulated me for writing about Clarke
having her period - i always planned on doing it because tbh its realistic and also
gives rise to a whole load of fun things like grumpy pissy groaning about cramps
and TV marathons and hot period sex
69. Chapter 69
> i dont know what happened smut keeps appearing without me even trying
> but this chapter i did have an intention to write smut 'cause it's chapter 69 and
someone 69s
Lexa’s prediction was more than correct – at some point during the afternoon the
next day, Clarke felt her flinch the tiniest bit beneath her, and turned to look at
her curiously.
“You alright?”
Lexa nodded. “Yeah. I think I just started my period.”
“What?”
“I can feel the cramps,” Lexa muttered, shifting a little. “Yep. Definitely
started.”
Clarke went to get up, but Lexa’s arms around her waist pulled her back into her
lap. “Don’t go.”
“Don’t you need to, you know, gear up?”
Lexa laughed. “No.”
Clarke turned around in Lexa’s lap and gave her a confused look. “No?”
“I’m already geared up.”
“You know, I do have a question – do you even use anything? ‘Cause I haven’t ever
seen or heard you buying or even touching a tampon or a pad, and the drawer in the
bathroom always looks the same. Do you hide your stuff or something?”
Lexa laughed again, leaving Clarke utterly confused. “I don’t use pads or tampons.”
“Then what the fuck do you use?”
“A cup.”
Clarke frowned. “A cup? Really?”
“Yeah. It’s the easiest option, really.”
“How can a cup inside your body be the easiest option?” Clarke wondered aloud. “I
hate the feeling of tampons, surely a cup’s even worse?”
Lexa shook her head. “I can’t even feel it.”
“Are you wearing it right now?”
“Yep. Put it in this morning. No accidental leaks there.”
Clarke grumbled. “It was _one time_.”
“I know, I was just teasing…” Lexa murmured.
“I’m curious, though. How big is it?”
“You’ve never seen one?”
“No?”
“Clarke, it’s not some huge appliance that you shove into yourself.”
“Gimme an estimate.”
“I’ve got a spare one in the bathroom. You wanna see it?”
“This is a weird conversation.”

“We’re just talking about cups made of silicone.”
“Cups meant to be worn inside your body.”
“Well, yes, but-“
“It’s a little weird.”
“Fine, then you won’t see it.”
“No, I want to. I’m curious.”
And so they went upstairs and Lexa showed Clarke the cup, and after about two
seconds of looking at it Clarke ushered Lexa out of the bathroom.
“There’s gotta be a line somewhere,” she explained through the door, “And I think
this is it.”
Lexa chuckled and leaned against the door. “Just fold it like I showed you, and-“
“Yeah, yeah, stick it up there. I think I know how to do that.”
There was a moment of silence, followed by a little gasp.
“Lexa?”
“Yeah?”
“Is there supposed to be pressure?”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but there’s pressure.”
“It’ll settle.”
Clarke came out of the bathroom and Lexa laughed at the confused expression on her
face.
“So, how does it feel?”
“Lexa, I can’t feel it _at all._ You sure it didn’t just jet itself into another
dimension?”
“Yep, positive. It’s magical, isn’t it?”
“It’s weird!”
“I know.”
“Feel my belly. You feel that bump?”
“Clarke, that might just be a food baby. Or that famous bloating you’ve been
complaining about.”
“No it isn’t.”
“You demolished two bagels and a bunch of cookies not half an hour ago.”
“Hey! You ate too.”
“Correction, I got nauseous and gave you my bagel.”
Clarke grumbled and gave Lexa a little shove. “Shut up.”
“Never.”
“I’m bored.”
“Me too.”
“You wanna check and see what’s up with your parents’ case?”
“If I can do that while buried in bed, then yes,” Lexa sighed. “The cramps are
coming.”
“Oh no. Anything I can do to help?”
“Can you get Raven to go buy cookie dough ice cream?”
“Already on it.”
* * *
Anya was close.
_So close._
Raven had been teasing her for the good part of an hour, driving her to the point
of near madness, and just when Raven had finally settled in between her legs and
pushed her to the brink, with the full intention of pushing her over the edge into
a climax, the phone on the nightstand rang. Raven stopped for the briefest of
moments, and Anya's concentration was broken, and she let out a groan of
frustration when her orgasm was thoroughly ruined.
"No," Anya groaned, "Not fair."
Raven offered her an apologetic smile and got up to reach for the phone, which she
answered as quickly as she could.
"What?"
"Hey, it's me," Clarke said on the other end. "And you owe me from that bet last
week. Can you run down to the store to get us some cookie dough ice cream?"
"Clarke, I swear to god, Anya's going to kill you."
"Why?"
"We're in the middle of something."
"What? _Oh._ "
"Yeah."
"Tell her Lexa's dying and needs any support you can give her."
"We've got cookie dough in the freezer," Raven sighed. "Come in with your keys, do
not come into the bedroom, and leave as fast as you can. Got it?"
"Got it. Sorry again for, you know..."
Raven hung up and set the phone down to the nightstand.
"Sorr-"
But Anya's arms wrapped tightly around her waist and yanked her back down to the
bed, so suddenly that Raven couldn't help the squeal that escaped her lips.
"You," Anya growled, "Will finish what you started."
"Yes, of course, geez-"
"But let's make it a game."
"Huh?"
Once again, Anya flipped the two of them over so that Raven was on top of Anya.
"Turn around."
"What?"
"Whoever gets off last gets to pick what movie we watch."
"Anya, that's not fair, I already did the work first on you- you're totally going
to lose."
"Raven, I know you're dripping. And you haven't even come once yet..."
They heard the door open and close, and waited for a moment till the front door was
shut again, leaving them once again alone in the apartment.
"You up for the bet?"
Raven answered Anya with a fiery kiss. "You bet I am."
She turned around so that her legs were on both sides of Anya's head whilst her own
head was above Anya's hips - she'd only ever seen this position in porn, in a way
more porn-y setting, but this felt weirdly normal. Anya's hands ran up along her
thighs and spread her legs wider, drawing her hips down to meet her mouth, and
Raven let out a moan she hadn't even known was coming. Anya's mouth on her sex made
her belly and entire core grow warm, it was intense, so intense - though she'd been
teasing Anya, she hadn't quite realized how aroused she'd grown till the moment
Anya's tongue ran over her clit and made her jump at the pleasure. But then she
focused on the task at hand, dipping her head down to meet Anya's sex, and all else
melted away.
She tried so hard to focus on only pleasuring Anya, but Anya's tongue and fingers
fucking her were a constant distraction - she was wet and wanting and Anya was
doing her best work to drive her absolutely crazy. The temptation to just let Anya
fuck her and take her was so high, but Raven held her ground and kept lapping at
Anya's centre, alternating between hard licks and sucks and being more than pleased
to feel Anya squirming beneath her touch.
She'd really thought she was winning - Anya was moaning at every touch of Raven's
tongue around her clit, the sounds muffled and that much hotter, when Raven was
suddenly hit with the burning heat of an oncoming climax that she'd thought she
could put off for a little while. She didn't really care what they watched, but
losing a bet to Anya was another thing.
She hated losing.
She tried her best to keep her focus, to refrain from cumming, but there was only
so much she could take - with a gasp, she let go, and could hear the pleased hum
from Anya's throat as her hips ground against Anya's mouth. Raven's arms around
Anya's thighs tightened as she tried to keep steady, but the aftershocks of her
climax were as powerful as ever, rendering her momentarily incapable of anything
other than moaning and whimpering.
"I won," Anya said victoriously. "Now finish me off."
Raven grumbled. "What if I don't?"
Anya lifted her hips towards Raven's mouth. "Please."
Raven returned her mouth to Anya' sex, and Anya jolted at the sudden contact - it
was sensitive, too much even, she'd been brought to the brink twice now and she was
almost about to tell Raven off - but Raven slowed down just enough, feeling the
tension in Anya's legs wasn't from pleasure but from discomfort, and the gentler
pressure and movements settled Anya back onto the bed to squirm beneath her touch.
"Raven, please-"
Raven hummed and kept going, and Anya came then - but Raven didn't get off of her,
not when she asked, not when she begged; no, Raven kept going when Anya's quiet
'Raven, I can't go for another' and 'Raven, its so intense' turned to breathless
moans and whimpers, and Anya was writhing beneath her once again. She kept going
until Anya came a second time, this time with a gasp, and that was when she stopped
- with Anya still reeling from her climaxes, Raven turned around to lay on her
chest, a perpetual smirk on her face when she saw just how spent Anya was.
"You might've won the bet, but I beat you," Raven murmured as she pressed a kiss to
Anya's neck. "I always win in the end."
Anya didn't even find a reply coherent enough to spell with her mouth, and so she
just resolved to swat at Raven's face with her hand. "Idiot."
"Love you too."
Anya hummed and wrapped her arms around Raven. "I love you."
"Holy shit, did I break you?"
"No, but you did give me two orgasms. And that was amazing."
"I can give you a third if you want."
"No, no way. Too sensitive."
"Alright."
"We're watching Pride and Prejudice."
"Not again!"
"It's good."
"We've seen it so many times-"
"I like it. Come on."
"No, not yet."
"Raven-"
But Raven was stubborn, and remained atop Anya with no intention of getting off.
"You're warm and naked and comfy. I'm staying here for as long as I can."
"We're still watching it."
"I know."
* * *
Lexa had not won in life’s lottery when it came to monthly pains. While Clarke’s
cramps were uncomfortable as they could be, Lexa’s were infinitely worse – not an
hour later she was quietly groaning in bed, a little fever making her feel sweaty
and uncomfortable, and to top it all off, she had a massive headache.
“I want to die.”
Clarke laid beside her, a hot water bottle resting on her stomach, one hand resting
over her eyes as she tried to remember how to breathe so that her ovaries didn’t
burn with pain.
“We’ll die together.”
“You’ve been sleeping. You’re fine.”
“No I’m not.”
“I’m literally dying.”
“Poor baby.”
“I want a hug.”
“Not yet. I just found a position that doesn’t hurt.”
“Cla-arke…”
“Gimme a sec, geez. Let me have this moment of bliss.”
“I miss you.”
“Lexa, I’m literally right here,” Clarke grumbled, moving her hand over to rest on
Lexa’s back. “See?”
“But I want you closer.”
“And I want my ovaries to remain appeased.”
“Why do we even have to live through this?” Lexa muttered. “This is unfair.”
“Agreed.”
A few minutes passed in peaceful silence before Lexa spoke up again.
“Clarke…”
“What?”
“C’mere.”
“But I’m so comfy…”
Lexa grumbled and moved over and flopped down atop Clarke, drawing exasperated
laughter to spill from Clarke’s lips. “Get off of me, you fish!”
Fish, who’d thus far been sleeping next to their bed, jumped up at the mention of
his name, and let out an excited bark.
“No, not you, Fish. This fish,” Clarke groaned. “Lexa, either you properly lay on
me or then not at all.”
“Shh. This is good.”
“Your elbow is pressing into my hip. Not comfortable.”
Lexa shifted so that she could sling one leg over Clarke’s waist and rest her head
against her shoulder. “There. Better?”
“My ovaries hurt again.”
“Mine do too.”
“This is awful,” Clarke muttered.
“Do you want me to move? ‘Cause I can, if you don’t want me here-“
“Oh, no you don’t,” Clarke said, throwing her arms around Lexa’s waist and pulling
her even close. “None of that mopey nonsense. Not this month.”
“But I’m making you uncomfortable.”
“Correction: my uterus shedding itself is making me uncomfortable. You’re making it

a bit better.”
“Am I really?”
Clarke nuzzled her face in Lexa’s neck and drew her even closer. “Yes, you are.
Maybe just move your hand away from my boob, and we’ll be fine.”
“Oh, sorry. Sore?”
“Yeap. You’re lucky yours don’t get sore.”
“It’s the _one_ ailment I don’t get.”
“Which means I get to play with your swelled up boobs while you’re put on no-touch
of these goodies,” Clarke mumbled, her hand sliding down to cup Lexa’s breast.
“Sorry not sorry.”
“Clarke, I’ve told you-“
“Yes, yes, you get horny. I know.”
“I don’t _get_ horny, I am.”
“You’re very demure about it.”
Lexa huffed and pulled away from Clarke’s neck to make eye contact. “You’re
cramping and in pain and bleeding. I’d figure the last thing you want is for me to
be jumping your bones each chance I can think of.”
“You can try me.”
“Clarke, you didn’t even let me touch you half the night because you were too warm.
And then you still hogged all the covers.”
Clarke pecked Lexa’s lips quickly before offering her an apologetic smile. “I’m
sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, just know that if you do that tonight, I’m going to push you off the
bed.”
“Of course you are.”
Clarke’s fingers were drawing patterns along the exposed skin of Lexa’s cleavage,
her fingertips dancing along sensitive skin in ways that made Lexa get even more
distracted than what she already was.
“Clarke…”
“What?”
“I-“
“Tell me what you want, Lexa? You’re confusing me.”
But Clarke wasn’t confused – the gleam in Lexa’s eye, the way her pupils were
practically covering her entire iris, the way her mouth hung just a little open as
she scrambled to find words – they were all signs Clarke knew all too well.
She knew Lexa got needy during her period, but this was the first time Lexa had
told her that she got horny – Clarke had just assumed the blushes and uncomfortable
squirms and long showers to be because Lexa was uncomfortable due to cramps or
whatever.
And now it all made sense.
She smirked as she waited for Lexa to answer. “Lexa…”
“Shut up.”
“Why’re you being so shy? Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“Yes, but I like it when you say it.”
Lexa drew Clarke in for a kiss that left her breathless. “I want you to fuck me.”
“There we go.”
And the next thing Lexa knew, she was pinned to the bed on her back, with Clarke on
top of her, the smirk still on her lips. Clarke’s thigh pressed in between Lexa’s
legs, drawing a sharp gasp from Lexa’s lips when Clarke ground down on her in a
fashion that made the throb in her pussy intensify rapidly – Clarke only chuckled
and sought out Lexa’s lips, knowing this wouldn’t take long.
Lexa was already halfway there, and she hadn’t even started.
She rested her forearms on both sides of Lexa’s head and captured her lips
hungrily, forgetting about her cramps and discomfort entirely as she kept on
grinding against Lexa – Lexa’s breaths were frantic and quick, and the frequency of
the little adorable whimpers that left her lips grew closer and closer until
finally Lexa moaned – and came.
“That was so quick,” Clarke chuckled as she settled back on top of Lexa, “You poor
thing. You must’ve waited for that for ages.”
“Shut up,” Lexa muttered. “I’m just on edge.”
“I love that you’re on edge.”
“I hate that I’m on edge.”
“Of course you do,” Clarke murmured. “But you’re adorable when you’re needy.”
“Shut up.”
Clarke rolled off of Lexa then. “Gladly. I want to sleep.”
“Come back I want a hug.”
“It’s too warm. Your body’s too hot.”
“I’m sorry I have a fever, but-“
“Fine, fine. C’mere. I wanna lay on my back.”
Still sensitive from her climax, Lexa rolled over to lay atop Clarke, jumping
slightly when her crotch pressed down against Clarke’s leg in a way that sent a
jolt of residual pleasure running through her veins.
“Sensitive?”
“Shut up.”
“Do you wanna go for a round 2?”
Lexa grumbled. “No, I’m tired.”
“Alright.”
“Maybe later.”
“Alright.”
“I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”

“Think of it as me making up for hogging all the sheets last night.”
“I don’t even get it – you tell me I’m too warm to sleep with, and then you steal
all the sheets. Doesn’t even make sense.”
“Shut up.”
For a while, Lexa did shut up.
“I got asked for an interview.”
“Mhm?”
“Well, many interviews. My inbox is full of emails from reporters, but this one was
sent to Indra and she told me about it.”
“Do tell,” Clarke mumbled. “I might fall asleep, so make it quick.”
“The New Yorker wants to do an article about my parents’ anti-gay activities and
that whole scandal there, and feature my story in it.”
Clarke’s eyes opened, and she looked at Lexa curiously. “And you want that?”
Lexa shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m- I’m not sure if I’m comfortable.”
Clarke nodded and thought for a while. “Your parents would absolutely hate it.”
“True.”
“I think you should do it.”
“Really?”
“Let’s show those bastards.”
“But that means I’d have to answer questions about me being – being gay.”
Clarke didn’t comment on the fact that Lexa stumbled over the last part of her
sentence. She understood that Lexa was still getting used to everything.
“I’ll be there, and the reporter probably won’t be too bad. Just one person, maybe
a photographer to go along with it.”
“Mhm.”
“And you can stop it anytime you want.”
“Mhmm…”
“And your parents might have a heart attack when they hear, so there’s that.”
“Wonderful,” Lexa sighed. “I’m doing it.”
“Great.”
“I’ll call them whenever I get moving again.”
“Good,” Clarke yawned. “Now let me sleep.”

“Then sleep.”
“Get up here. You’re weirdly positioned like that, with your head in my boobs.”
Lexa buried her face into Clarke’s chest and shook her head. “That’s why I’m right
here. With my face in your boobs.”
“Lexa-“
“Are they sore?”
“Not _that_ much, but-“
“I’m so comfy.”
“You look funny.”
“Then close your eyes.”
> its just all fluf and smut

> but there's a hint of plot, i'm not forgetting about the plot, don't worry
> AND FISH GOT A CAMEO TOO I TRY TO INCLUDE HIM WHEREVER I CAN
70. Chapter 70
> the fluff just keeps on coming

> i can't stop
> i won't stop
Four days after visiting the police station, Clarke opened the morning paper to
find Lexa’s parents once again as the headlines.
**“Jason & Shawna Woods charged with embezzlement, tax fraud and more – full
details of the case inside”**
And of course she read the whole thing. Most of it she already knew, and when Lexa
came down a while later, she didn’t even bother reading it past the actual charges.
Clarke watched her carefully as she did, noting how her reading glasses rested at
the tip of her nose and how she still looked all mussed up from sleep; as opposed
to her tired, drowsy expression, the relief and underlying joy that overcame her
eyes as she skimmed through the article looked almost bright.
Lexa was happy.
She gave Clarke a quick kiss before heading to the laundry room, emerging clad in
her usual workout gear.
“It’s a good morning, isn’t it?” she asked chirpily as she walked over to the
fridge to pull out her pre-prepped smoothie ingredients.
“Yes, it is.”
“You want some?”

Clarke looked at the bag and saw kale and various greens. “Nope.”
“Come on.”
“Nope. I will not drink anything that’s green.”
“You love Mountain Dew, though.” Lexa pointed out. “And that’s green.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Don't you go nit-picking.”
Lexa made her smoothie and moved over to sit next to Clarke as she drank it. “It’s
early for you. You didn't come to bed till almost four.”
Clarke nodded and yawned. "Raven and I got into a Mario Kart duel. I won."
"Congrats."
"Sorry again if I woke you."
"You didn't, not really," Lexa smiled. "But you should still be sleeping."
Clarke shook her head. "Nope. I'm making the best of your last day all at home with
me."
“You make it sound like I’m moving overseas.”
“Might as well be.”
Lexa leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry you’re home all the time. Did you hear
back about that job in San Francisco?”
“Not yet. But I only sent the application like a week ago, so I’m still hopeful.”
“You’ll get it. You’ve got great credentials and a dazzling personality.”
“And absolutely no prior experience in my field.”
Lexa smiled. “Hush. No point in putting yourself down until you know for sure.”
Clarke let out a sigh and twirled her empty mug in her hands. “We’re moving to San
Francisco.”
“We are,” Lexa agreed. “Unless you’re having second thoughts…?”
“No, not that- I’m excited. But it’s still…I’ve never lived in California. Or the
West Coast. The farthest from home I’ve lived was Chicago…”
“If it helps, I’ve only ever lived in either Boston, Bridgeport, or New York. So
it’ll be new for me too.”
“True.”
“I’m a little nervous.”
“Same.”
“But it’ll be alright.”

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded. “And I liked San Francisco. I liked the vibe.”
“See? It’ll be great. And Fish’ll love the apartment I’ve found – well, apartments.
We’ll look at them when I get back from the gym.”
“Enjoy your self-inflicted torture,” Clarke smiled. “I’ll be here ready with a
massage and whatever protein mush you need.”
“It’s not mush, it’s a drink.”
“Sure, sure. Looks like mush. Tastes like mush.”
“It’s good for recovery.”
“I don’t need a lecture,” Clarke laughed. “Go. Have fun.”
* * *
Lexa returned a sweaty and panting mess about an hour and a half later to find the
bath had already been run. Clarke was already in the bath, having only gotten in a
few minutes before – she knew how long Lexa’s workouts lasted on each day, ranging
from an hour to two, and today had been her full-body workout day. The most
exhausting of all days, and so she’d drawn a warm bath with lavender oils and
bubbles and lit a few candles here and there, so that when Lexa walked into the
bathroom, she was greeted with the combined scent of her favorite candles and her
favorite bath oils.
“I figured you’d want to relax,” Clarke smiled. “C’mere.”
Lexa was more than happy to shed her sweaty clothes and drop them in the hamper
outside the bathroom before stepping into the bath with Clarke, settling in between
her legs and allowing Clarke to wrap her arms around her waist and pull her close.
“How was your workout?”
Lexa hummed when Clarke’s hands ran up along her back, pressing at muscles that
were already growing sore. “It was good.”
“Did you get all your reps in the way you like?”
“Mhm. I ran a bit longer than usual, tried to see if I could.”
“And could you?”
Lexa grumbled. “Of course. But now my legs are jelly.”
Clarke had begun massaging her back, her hands soft and kneading in just the right
ways to draw hums and moans from Lexa’s lips. “Well, I still believe that
voluntarily torturing yourself like that is stupid, but you do you.”
“Right there.”
“Here?”
“Mmh. Yeah.”
Clarke smiled and pressed a kiss to the nape of Lexa’s neck. “My tattoo artist’s
back in town, by the way. You still want those tats?”
“Oh my god, yes. It’s been ages.”
“Thought you’d say that. Saturday’s the day.”
“Already?”
Clarke chuckled as she knead into Lexa’s lower back and momentarily caused Lexa to
forget her words.
“Yes, already. Unless you don’t want-“
“No, no. Saturday’s good.”
“I’ll hold your hand, don’t worry.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m thinking of getting one too,” Clarke murmured. “A little one.”
“What is it?”
Clarke stopped massaging Lexa’s back and drew her back closer into her lap, the
water swishing around in the tub and almost pouring a little over the edge.
“I was thinking of getting a little squid.”
Lexa gasped and turned around abruptly. “Clarke, no. You can’t.”
Clarke was joking, but Lexa looked utterly serious, and so she decided to mess with
her a little more. “Why not? It’d be cute.”
“Clarke, they look like little penises.”
“And?”
Lexa frowned. “You’re not getting a penis tattooed on your body. Nope.”
Clarke laughed. “I was just joking, geez. I’m not getting a squid tattoo.”
“Good.”
“Is that why you like them so much? ‘Cause they look like dicks?”
Lexa made a face. “Shut up.”
“Don’t you want to know what the actual tat I want is?”
“Fine. What is it?”
“A carnation – just a little one, maybe on my rib. Or maybe my arm. I haven’t quite
decided on that yet.”
Lexa stared at Clarke for a while. “A carnation?”
“Yep.”
“As in my favorite flower?”
“Yep.”
“That’s adorable. You’re sure?”
“110%.”
“What colour?”
Clarke smirked. “I did my research. Pink. Symbolises gratitude or something.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s me, the sweetest.” Clarke smiled, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Also, this
way I can always just take off my shirt if there’s an occasion where I forget to
buy you flowers.”
Lexa laughed. “How clever.”
“That’s me. The smartest.”
“Definitely.”
Lexa turned back around in Clarke’s arms and rested her head against her shoulder.
A comfortable silence befell them then, as the candles around them flickered
slowly, the warm water enveloping their bodies and making Lexa feel a little like
she was flying; she was exhausted, her muscles strained from the workout, and she
almost wanted to sleep – but Clarke’s breaths beneath her, the steady drum of her
pulse, it all kept her just slightly awake, her eyes narrowed and almost closed but
not quite, her gaze fixed on a candle, the flame burning like pale gold. It was
quiet and nice, the feel of Clarke beneath and around her so warm and soft and
gentle, and to Clarke this was the best time of all – Lexa was just there, quiet,
entirely relaxed and without a single place to be other than there with her.
* * *
“Anya, Anya, Anya- Anya!”
Anya groaned and pulled the covers over her head. “Let me sleep.”
"No."
Raven gave her another shove, and Anya tried to swat her away; but this only
prompted Raven to climb atop her, straddling her waist over the covers which still
hid her face.
"Go away, Raven."
“No way.”
“Raven, I just finished a two-day shift. I’ve slept maybe two hours. I had a seven
hour surgery, for gods sakes-“
“I got the job!”
Anya froze and moved the covers away from her face, turning over to her back. Raven
was still on top of her, now sitting on Anya's stomach with an victorious grin on
her face. “What? Really?”
Raven nodded. “I just got the call. And the lady there, Debbie or something – she
told me to tell you that you’ve got the job too.”
Anya smiled and reached up to pull Raven down by her arm. “That’s amazing,” she
murmured as she kissed her, “I told you you’d get it.”
“This is awesome.”
“Now let me sleep.”
Raven sighed and sat back up, but said nothing for a while, allowing Anya to shut
her eyes and think she could have some rest.
“Oh my god, now I have to tell Clarke.”
Anya cracked one eye open. “Yes, you do.”
“And you have to tell Lexa.”
“Lexa’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time.”
“But Clarke. Oh no. She won't be happy.”
Anya laughed. “Jesus, you’d think you were the one married to Clarke, not Lexa.”
“Shut up. Clarke and I have a very special bond.”
“I know. A very strange bond. One involving barging in on each other without
warning and stealing each other's clothes and acting like you’re married.”
“What, you jealous?”
Anya huffed. “You think?”
“Oh my god, are you?”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
Raven laughed and did not pursue her taunts any further. “But seriously. Clarke and
Lexa are moving to San Francisco in like a month, and we’re going to leave in like
three months-“
“Four, Raven.”
“We’re almost to April. Three months.”
“But we’ll be back in a year.”
“But back in New York. And Clarke and Lexa will still be in San Francisco.”
“Octavia and Lincoln will still be here. And Bellamy, and Murphy-“
“True.”
Anya saw the little pout in Raven’s lip, and sighed, deciding to put off sleep for
a little bit. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’m not very attached to New York.
So if we come back, and you decide that you can’t live your day-to-day life without
Clarke-“
“Watch that tone-“

Anya rolled her eyes and continued. “If you feel up to it, we could maybe move to
San Francisco?”
“Are you serious?”
Anya shrugged. “I’m a surgeon. I’ll find a job.”
“And I can work anywhere, but-“ Raven faltered and let out a nervous laugh. “A
month ago you told me you didn’t want to move in with me, and yet here you are,
suggesting we move in together in another city across the country. Hell, if you
think about it, we’re moving in together to Papua New Guinea-“
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind,” Anya muttered. She laced her fingers with Raven’s and
tugged at her hands to pull her down to lay on her. “It’s not like I’ve spent much
time at my apartment this past month.”
“Five nights. I was there with you on three of them.”
Anya smiled. “Exactly. So I basically live here anyway.”
“True. When’re you gonna start paying rent?”
“Do you want me to?”
Raven laughed. “I can cover it on my own, but I’m not going to object if you want
to chip in.”
“I will.”
Raven shifted slightly so that she could rest her head lower on Anya’s chest, and
sighed. “When are we going to tell them?”
“How about their farewell party?”
“Really? You wanna ruin their night?”
Anya laughed. “Okay, maybe that’s a bad idea. What do you propose?”
“How about we go on that long-awaited double date with the two saps and tell them
then?”
“That sounds good. You up for a whole night of watching them fawn over each other?”
“God, probably not. But we can do a fun date where there's minimal hand-holding and
chances for romance. Like paintball.”
“Paintball is dangerous.”
“Not when we have a hot doctor around,” Raven smirked, rising up to kiss Anya
before laying back down. “And it’s fun.”
“Paintball…”
“I think it’s a great idea. Or bowling. Something active. I feel like those two
just do fancy cute little restaurants with candlelit dinners and roses and that
gross romantic stuff.”
“Do you want to do that gross romantic stuff?”

“God, no.”
“You sure?”
“Paintball’s way better.”
“So we’re going on a paintball-date with them?”
“Yep, it’s decided.”
"And we're not going to ask them if they want to go paintballing- wait, is that
even the right thing to say?"
"I don't know. And yes. We're doing it."
"Fine."
"Great."
“You ready to shut up now?”
“Wait, one more thing.”
Raven rose up again to look at Anya, a smile plastered on her face. “I’m really
excited about Papua New Guinea. So I’m sorry if I get annoying. But I’m so
excited.”
Anya smiled and sought out her lips before answering. “You’re adorable.”
“Aren’t you excited?”
“I am, but I’m basically a zombie at this point. Let me sleep.”
“Okay.”
Raven went to get up, but Anya’s arms tightened around her, effectively capturing
her in place.
“Anya, it’s like ten in the morning.”
“You’re staying right here and sleeping with me. I know for a fact that you and
Clarke spent most of the night playing Mario Kart. Lexa texted me,” Anya mumbled.
“Now shush.”
Raven grumbled, but settled her face into the crook of Anya’s neck anyway, and fell
asleep not soon after.
> these four are just idiotically domestic saps and i love them more than anything
tbh
> but a paintball date? Clexa against the competitive Ranya? who would win, i
wonder??
71. Chapter 71

> i know i sorta died for two days there but it's all okay, i just got defeated by
a mountain of math revision and then with being out of internet range for the
entirety of yesterday
> today's chapter should make up for it, 4k words of Clexa fluff with actual PLOt
i'm sure y'all have missed that
“Clarke, babe- you home?”
“Yeah, up here!”
Lexa chuckled and set down her bag on a chair before making her way upstairs. After
quickly changing into something more comfortable, she popped her head into Clarke’s
studio to find her sitting cross-legged amidst a circle of unfinished paintings,
sipping on a mug of coffee and looking very focused.
“I got the job.”
“Really?” Lexa asked, astonished, expecting Clarke to be more excited. But she
remained focused as ever, her eyes running over the paintings before her
consistently without break. “That’s great, right?”
“Mhm.”
“But what’s this?”
Clarke glanced at her briefly before gesturing at the paintings spread out before
her. “I’m trying to figure out which works to send over to San Francisco for the
gallery to take a look at. I applied for a job, I didn’t even talk about wanting a
show or whatever, and when they called me to tell me I got the job they asked me if
I had any original works, and now they want to see them – I mean they’ve seen my
portfolio, and they’re interested and want a few samples. I don’t know what to
choose.”
Lexa walked over and eyed the works for a while before pointing to the one to
Clarke’s left. “I like that blue one.”
“With the people falling out of the sky?”
“Yeah. It’s surreal and yet somehow so…realistic.”
“It’s cute when you try to talk art to me.”
“I try.”
Clarke smirked. “How was your day?”
“Gruelling. Just paperwork today, setting up for the move and that sort. I can’t
wait to get to San Francisco and just…not be cleaning out endless cupboards and
shelves of old files.”
“And I’ll actually have a job,” Clarke smiled. “I can’t wait, and I _never_ thought
I’d be anxious to have a job. But I totally am.”
Lexa returned her smile. “Have you talked to your mom yet?”
Clarke made a face. “I don’t know how to start that conversation. ‘Hey Mom, I’m
moving to San Francisco in like two weeks, sorry I didn’t talk to you earlier about
it’ just doesn’t feel right.”
“Just start with ‘hey Mom’. You’ll figure the rest out.”
Clarke let out a grumble. “She’ll be mad I didn’t tell her earlier.”
“Well, if you want her to come to our farewell party, you need to invite her.”
“I know, I know.”
Lexa went back to the door, but was stopped on her way out when Clarke turned
around and asked:
“When’s your interview again?”
“Tomorrow at four, at the office. You can still come, right?”
“Of course, if you want me. I’ll be there.”
“Great. What do you want for dinner?”
“There’s chicken in the fridge.”
Lexa laughed. “You want me to make something?”
“Yes, please.”
“And you’re going to call your mother?”
“Why do you have to sound so patronizing when you say that?”
“Clarke, I don’t want Abby being mad at both of us if we end up leaving without
telling her. I’m starting to think you’re putting this off on purpose.”
“I am.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Clarke shrugged. “I just…it’ll be real when I tell Mom.”
“What, the move?”
“Yeah.”
The smile was gone from Clarke’s face, and Lexa now saw nervousness and concern in
her expression. Disregarding her desire to just hop in the shower and wash all the
day’s work off of her, she went back over and sat down on the floor beside Clarke.
“You wanna talk?”
Clarke shrugged. “Maybe not here. My ass is numb.”
Lexa laughed and stood up again, and walked over to the armchair in the corner.
Clarke sat down in her lap, straddling her hips – this was her favorite position to
be in, facing Lexa and having her close, arms wrapped around her waist and face
pressed into her neck. It was comfortable, intimate – not in any way sexual, not
unless she wanted it to be.
She sat there for a while, twirling a lock of Lexa’s hair around her index finger,
and Lexa waited. She wasn’t in a rush, though her stomach was grumbling with a
little hunger; no, she was there to wait for as long as needed until Clarke was
ready to talk. She always had time for Clarke.
“This is moving fast,” Clarke said quietly. “Very fast.”
Lexa let out a sigh. “I suppose it is.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s _too_ fast – but we met in October. We’ve
been together for about five months. And we’re married, living together, and now
we’re moving across the country.”
“And you’re worried it’s too fast.”
“It should be, shouldn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Lexa sighed again. “Do you want to slow down?”
“No.”
“No?”
Clarke drew away from Lexa’s neck to meet her eyes. “Everything’s moving so fast I
don’t even know what to do – this is the _first_ real job I’ve had to do anything
with art, and I’m moving to a brand new city with a wife that I love…it’s all so
quick. It’s overwhelming.”
Lexa smiled. “I know. It’s pretty mind-blowing.”
“It’s insanity, that’s what it is.”
For a while, Lexa said nothing, focused on just watching Clarke's expressions
carefully. It was obvious there was something Clarke was trying to say, some
feeling that she wasn’t quite finished, but Lexa couldn’t quite tell what could’ve
caused Clarke to look a little sick and a little nervous at the same time.
“I’m scared about the move.”
“Scared?”
Clarke shrugged. “Nervous or whatever. I don’t know, but it didn’t quite sink in
until like today that it’s actually happening – I’m moving across the country, with
you, away from family and friends and it’s just scary.”
“But you’ll have me.”
“Yeah, I’ll have you,” Clarke agreed. “But all my friends will be here. Mom’ll
probably get another deployment soon – she’s not keen on staying in one place for
long. But there's Octavia and Lincoln and Bellamy…and Raven.”
“You’ll miss her the most, won’t you?”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ll miss her the most. She’s like…I don’t know, not
a sister, but kinda? I don’t know.”
“She’s your best friend.”
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to live there forever, you know,” Lexa said quietly. “I can always
work for half a year or so and then request a transfer.”
“No, I want to do this. I want to move to San Francisco. Start a new chapter in my
life. New York was a mess for me – crappy apartments, crappy jobs, crappy
relationships. But this…I’ve got a real job that I’m excited for, I’ve got you, and
my home doesn’t have any rats or mice or other vermin…it’s amazing, and I want
that. And I loved San Francisco when we visited, I can't wait to live there.”
“So what you’re saying is…you’re worried we're moving too fast but you don’t think
it’s too fast, but that it’s definitely overwhelming and you’re nervous?” Lexa
asked, her tone of voice as tentative as could be.
“I feel a little nauseous when I think about the move. It’s not like it’s a big bad
thing, it’s just – a big change. And I want it to go well.”
“It’s alright,” Lexa reassured her. “It’ll be fine. It’ll be new, and maybe a
little scary, but you’ll have me and Fish and Raven was already swearing she’ll
call you every night before bed and I’m pretty sure she’ll deliver on that promise,
so…”
“I’ll probably freak out when we actually move, so be ready.”
Lexa nodded. “I will. Whatever you need.”
“Expect me to act like a damn rock.”
“I’ve dealt with that before,” came Lexa’s reply, light in tone and calm as ever.
“I’m just excited. I don’t have any roots to rip up, but you do. So I get if you’re
not as excited-“
“Wow, hold on. I’m _totally_ excited. I’m just equally as nervous.”
And to that, Lexa couldn’t help but smile. “It’ll be great. We’ll actually have a
yard.”
“A tiny one.”
“Still. Enough space for me to plant some flowers.”
“Which I’m sure Fish will love ripping up.”
“I’ll put them in pots.”
“You’re severely underestimating our puppy child’s ingenuity,” Clarke smiled.

“Which, by the way…he won’t like the flight.
“We could take a car…” Lexa suggested. “One last road trip?”
“Just the two of us?”
“And Fish, don’t forget about him.” Lexa smiled. “Although I strongly doubt it’ll
be our last road trip. I quite like road trips.”
“Fine, fine. We can take all the road trips we want.”
“Although…”
“Hm?”
“We need a car, then.”
“Yeah. The apartment’s got a parking space, right?”
“It does.”
“So car shopping? You wanna do that after your tattoo on Saturday?”
“Sure, why not,” Lexa smiled. “But now I think it’s time you call your mother. I’ll
go start on dinner.”
Clarke kissed her once again. “Fine. But if she’s mad, I’ll blame you.”
“Hey!”
“What? I can’t have her be mad at me, she’s my mom.”
“She won’t be mad. Just call her.”
“Fine, fine.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Clarke?”
“Hm?”
“If I’m supposed to make food, I need to get up.”
"And?"
"You need to get off of me."
“Can’t you get up like this?”
“I can, but-“
“I’m feeling clingy today,” Clarke decided. “Come on, work out those gorgeous
thighs and that great ass. Pick me up, I know you can.”
Lexa let out a laugh, and with a little struggle she managed to get up with
Clarke’s legs tightly wrapped around her waist. After grabbing Clarke’s phone from
a nearby easel, she carried her downstairs, where Lexa finally managed to
untangle herself from Clarke enough to sit her down on a counter and starting on
their dinner. As she cooked, Clarke sat on the counter and swung her legs, and
after a little while had passed, she finally dialled her mother’s number and called
her.
“Hey, Mom,” she said when the call went through. “You busy?”
“No, not at all. How are you?”
“Good, good,” Clarke said chirpily – almost a little too chirpily.
“Clarke, what’s going on? You sound strange.”
“Oh, nothing much…”

“Clarke…?”
“Are you sitting down?”
Clarke could just _hear_ her mother rolling her eyes as she sat down and let out a
sigh. “What now, Clarke? Last time you told me to sit down you told me you were
married. What’s next, a baby? Please say it’s a baby.”
Clarke laughed, drawing a curious look from Lexa, who was currently cutting up some
vegetables to fry with the chicken on the pan.
“No, Mom, it’s not a baby,” she chuckled. Lexa’s brows furrowed, and she mouthed a
question to Clarke: _what’s going on?_
Clarke waved her hand, and so Lexa returned to her cooking.
“Okay, so if it’s not a baby, tell me what it is.”
“Lexa and I-“ Clarke faltered slightly, surprised at how easily their names had
rolled off her tongue. It felt natural and good and she hadn’t said it nearly
enough – in fact, she wasn’t even sure she’d ever said her and Lexa’s names
together in that fashion.
She loved the sound of it.
“Lexa and you what, Clarke? Is everything okay? Are you two alright?”
“Oh, yeah, we’re fine. We’re moving, that’s what I’m trying to say. To San
Francisco.”
There was a long moment of silence, and for a moment Clarke feared her mother was
angry.
“When?”
“In about a month.”
“A month!? Clarke, how long have you known about this?”
Clarke faltered again. “Uh…about two months? For sure, I mean.”
“And you’re telling me _now_?”
“Look, I didn’t want to say until we knew for sure, and then I didn’t know how to
phrase it and I just…I don’t know, okay?”
“How about your job?”
“I got a new one, actually, just heard about it today.”
“Really? What is it?”
“Assistant curator, at this gallery in downtown San Francisco…it’s great, Mom, it’s
so great. And they want to see my works, too, and I just…I’m really excited.”
“That’s amazing. Why are you moving, though?”
“P&R is opening an office there, and Lexa’s going to be heading it.”

Clarke could hear the smile on her mother’s lips when she said: “She must be
excited.”
“Yeah, she is,” Clarke grinned. “Nervous as hell, but so am I, so it’s alright.”
“Do you have an apartment already?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit further from the city but it’s got a yard and a gorgeous living
room, two bedrooms – one will be a guest bedroom, so you can come visit anytime.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Abby chuckled. “But how about your friends? I can’t
imagine Raven’s a fan of you moving halfway across the country.”
“No, but she’s been awfully quiet about it lately. I’m a little worried, but she’s
dragging us paintballing on Sunday, so I figure there’ll be some talking then.”
“Make sure she’s alright.”
“Yes, Mom, I will.”
Lexa had finished setting up dinner, and came over to give Clarke a chaste kiss on
her cheek. She waited while Clarke finished up the call, and when she finally put
the phone down, she received a kiss to her lips that tasted of white wine and
spices.
“Dinner’s ready,” Lexa said. “How’d your mom take it?”
“She’s coming for a visit about a month after we move. That’s alright, right?”
“I don’t think I could stop her if I wanted to,” Lexa smirked. “Now, come on. I’ve
got wine and chicken and all sorts of healthy things.”
“Smells delicious.”
“I guarantee you, it is.”
* * *
Clarke arrived at the offices five minutes before four, clad in Lexa’s blazer and
jeans, feeling dressed up enough for the occasion. Lexa’s clothes fit her almost
exactly, and were infinitely more comfortable than her cheap blazer which itched
and was tight around the shoulders.
Not to mention she liked the little smirk that tugged at Lexa’s lips when she
walked into her office and Lexa saw her wearing the blazer.
Clarke had thought that she’d be early, but instead entered to find the reporter
already present. The woman stood up and flashed Clarke a bright smile, and Lexa
stood as well, gesturing to Clarke with an amicable smile on her face as she said:
“Miss Morris, this is my wife, Clarke. Clarke, this is Elaine Morris, the reporter
from The New Yorker.”
“I am so pleased to meet you, Miss Griffin,” Miss Morris said, extending her hand.
Clarke shook the woman’s hand, noting how rigorous the shake of her hand was, and
smiled. “Pleased to meet you too, Miss Morris.”
“How about we move over to the couch?” Lexa suggested. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
They went over and sat down, Lexa and Clarke side by side on the couch with Miss
Morris taking a seat in an armchair across from them. She was perky, with pearly
white teeth peeking from between lips painted red; behind her large, round glasses
stood a pair of attentive eyes, the clearest grey Clarke had ever seen, matching
perfectly with the grey pantsuit she wore. Her hair was curly and fiery red,
brought up to a neat bun at the nape of her neck, and Clarke found a resemblance in
her to the subjects of just about every renaissance painting she’d ever studied in
her life.
It wasn't that she was attractive to Clarke - no, she was just a very unique-
looking person, and Clarke rather liked noting people's appearances when she saw
them to be aesthetically pleasing. She was so fixated on studying her appearance
and wondering if she could paint it later that she didn’t at first notice that
she’d begun speaking – but it wasn’t much of matter, because her words weren’t
entirely directed at her.
“Now, the article itself isn’t focused on you, Miss Griffin – or your wife. I’m
mainly discussing your parents’ blatant homophobia, the extent to which their
influence ran in major anti-gay organizations, showing the face of upper-class
homophobia of today; that’s the main gist of the article. But, given that you are
married to a woman, and have apparently had some scuffles with your parents in
recent months regarding it, I wanted to have your story told as well. This is
alright, I suppose?”
“Yes, that sounds about right.” Lexa nodded, and sought out Clarke’s hand to hold –
just lightly, her hand mostly just rested in Clarke’s, but Clarke couldn’t miss the
light touch and press of Lexa’s index finger against the pulse point on her wrist.
She was nervous, and Clarke said nothing of her seeking out her pulse. It was
normal. It wasn’t something to talk about, it was just something that comforted
Lexa and something that Clarke had no qualms with.
“Now, let’s get started. Just basic facts – your name was Alexandria Woods until a
few months ago, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And, forgive me for putting this so bluntly, but – what is your sexual
orientation?”
Lexa’s finger on Clarke’s wrist pressed a little harder when she nodded and said:
“I'm gay.”
The reporter nodded and scribbled down a note before looking up at Clarke. “And
you, Miss Griffin?”
Clarke perked up at being addressed, and almost stumbled over the words as she
answered her. “I’m bisexual.”
“Alright. And you two were married when, exactly?”
“February 17th of last year.”
“And had you dated long before that?”

Lexa cleared her throat. “Is it possible to not have our relationship discussed so
much in detail?”
“Yes, of course. I’d of course like to know about the lawsuit and other things
regarding that, but I will only write whatever you are comfortable with.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright, we’ll get to the lawsuit later, but now, tell me about yourself. When did
you realize you were gay?”
Clarke could see Lexa skip a breath before answering. “I suppose I always sort of
knew, subconsciously…I liked a lot of my female friends, and now, looking back,
it’s obvious they were crushes – but of course at the time I never realized that.
It wasn’t until seventh grade that I concretely knew.”
“I presume you had to hide it?”
Lexa sighed. “Yes, I did. They…they didn’t accept me, but they found out through
some source and with their…methods, they ended the relationship.”
“Methods? Would you like to elaborate?”
Another gentle press against Clarke’s pulse point was the only sign that Lexa was
slightly in discomfort. “I’ll say they used their money and power to manipulate
circumstances into such that resulted in the girl that I was involved with having
to move. Nothing more on that, I’d like to give her and her family the privacy.”
Miss Morris nodded. “Yes, I understand. Now, you said your parents didn’t accept
you; did you know what homosexuality was as a child? And your parents’ stance on
it?”
“Yes, because of my parents- I was told from an early age that being gay was a sin,
that gays went to hell. I was involved in their anti-gay campaigns for as long as I
could recall.”
“What was it like? Growing up, being who you are, and having to hide it, with your
parents so adamantly against who you are?”
Clarke tightened her hand in Lexa’s, giving her a reassuring squeeze, and Lexa
glanced at her briefly before speaking again.
The interview lasted about an hour, filled with gently spoken questions from Miss
Morris and quiet answers from Lexa. What Lexa told Miss Morris, Clarke already
knew; she talked about her parents’ abuse, the school she was sent to, all the
therapists and the continuous ‘we will fix you’ that her parents had repeated to
her over the years. She talked about her time in the closet, and what it'd been
like to come out - she detailed how she’d overcome the belief system being thrown
at her and formed her own, and when the interview finally concluded, Clarke knew
Lexa was dead tired.
She, too, had gotten her fair share of questions. Miss Morris had asked her about
their marriage, about the lawsuit and how she’d felt – she’d asked about how Lexa’s
parents had treated Clarke, and Clarke had used much harsher words than Lexa had
dared when she’d described the few exchanges she’d had with her in-laws.
“Now, you are more than welcome to decline this, but I would dearly like to have
some photo to accompany the article,” Miss Morris said at the end of the
interview. “Perhaps one of you two standing at the window, looking out?”
Lexa was not comfortable with that. Neither was Clarke.
“I really don’t think-“ Lexa began, but Clarke cut in with a smile and a better
suggestion.
“How about one of our hands? With the rings in plain sight, it’d be a pretty
picture and not show our physical appearances.”
Miss Morris smiled. “That is an even better idea.”
And so they did that, and after a round of thank you’s and handshakes the reporter
went her way, leaving Lexa and Clarke alone in the office.
“I have a headache,” Lexa muttered. “Let’s go home.”
When they got home, Clarke ordered them food while Lexa laid down on the couch,
rubbing at her temples. Clarke brought her an Advil and some water, and came back
after awhile with comfortable PJ’s and two cups of cocoa, one for her, one for
Lexa.
“That was exhausting,” Lexa said quietly. “But it’s good. They’ll absolutely hate
it.”
“Would it be too petty to mail the issue to them, signed and all?” Clarke asked.
Lexa laughed. “We’ll do it.”
“But you’re comfortable with this article, right?”
“Yeah. She won’t be using our real names, just address me as Alexandria, their
daughter, and you as my wife. And our faces aren’t readily available, and we’re
moving soon, so I doubt anyone will find us and ask us questions.”
“That’s a relief," Clarke sighed, taking a sip of her cocoa. "I'd hate for us to be
harassed because of this."
Lexa let out a giggle then, and Clarke looked at her in confusion. “What?”
“You’ve got a whipped cream moustache,” Lexa giggled, “It’s adorable, please don’t
wipe it away until I’ve gotten a picture.”
Clarke huffed but stayed put until Lexa had taken a picture. “See? Adorable.”
“I look like that grumpy cat,” Clarke grumbled.
“That might be because you’re frowning.”
“Shut up.”
“You wanna do something?”
“I don’t know, what do you want to do?”
“Hey, I asked you first.”
“But I don’t know?”
“How about chess?”

Clarke let out a laugh. “Lexa, I kick your ass each time.”
“I’m getting better. Give me time, I’ll win some day.”
“But not today,” Clarke grinned as she reached over under the coffee table to bring
out the chess board. “You’re going down.”
Before Lexa could even speak, Clarke put a hand over her mouth. “No, don’t you dare
make a ‘going down’ joke, or I’m divorcing you and shipping you off to the corner
of shame with Raven and her idiotic jokes.”
“Wow, harsh,” Lexa muttered. “But you’re totally going down on me anyway.”
“Lexa!”
> abby is the perfect mom and she'll absolutely die when Clarke does eventually
call her and tell her about a baby
> also these two idiots are too cute i literally cannot handle it
72. Chapter 72
> tattoos & paintball dates make the world go round :)

> also, just to clarify - yes, there will be babies, plenty of babies, but in the
sequel which is fast approaching
The tattoo place wasn’t so much a tattoo place as it was Clarke’s friends
apartment. But it was clean, and neat, and the studio itself was pristine and clean
and the friend herself, Suzy, was perky and preppy and very fun to talk to.
Lexa was nervous, as she ought to be, and Clarke thought it was absolutely
adorable.
“Don’t worry babe, it’ll be just fine.”
“Okay, so you want a leg piece and one on your back, right?”
Lexa nodded. “Are we doing both today, or-?”
“I think it’s best we start with one. I’d suggest the leg one, but it’s your
choice.”
“Let’s do the leg then.”
Suzy let out a laugh and patted Lexa’s knee gently. “Don’t be so nervous, it’ll be
just fine. You’ve got a fine wife to comfort you, and I’ve got Oreos and I can put
something on Netflix if you want, though you won’t see much since you’ll be on your
back mostly.”
Lexa smiled, but was unable to conceal her nerves. “It’s still a bit scary.”
“The sound can be a bit scary,” Suzy admitted, “D’ya have good noise-canceling
headphones?”
Lexa nodded, and Clarke tapped her shoulder lightly to draw her attention. “You can
finish listening to that dull audio book you’ve been listening to for ages.”
Lexa let out a laugh. “It’s not dull.”
“It sounds like it.”
“And it’s not an audio book, it’s a lecture on Plato’s later theories and their
prevalence in the philosophical theories of the early-“
“Yeah, yeah,” Clarke laughed, “I didn’t ask for you to give me the whole lecture.
It’s cute that you like smart stuff like that.”
“Says you, who just picked up Raven’s physics book and read it through in one go?”
“What? It was interesting!”
“Clarke, even I couldn’t get through that one.”
“It was a theory on the very existence of our universe. Now that’s interesting.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Alright, so, I’m just going to get started with the stencil- how about you lie
down here, okay?”
Lexa was a little tense, but Clarke sat down next to her and laid a hand on her
shoulder, giving it a gentle rub. “It’s not going to hurt, it’s just drawing the
pattern on your skin first. Alright?”
Clarke could see Lexa was a little pale, and gave her a hand to hold. “This isn’t
the painful part.”
“This is a little freaky.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Once the stencil was done with, Suzy brought out a mirror and allowed Lexa the time
she wanted to look it over and really think it through.
“So, what do you think? You wanna do this?” Clarke asked, smiling gently.
Lexa looked at her leg for one last time before nodding. “Ok. Let’s do this.”
Suzy had her lie on her stomach at first as she got started. The anticipation of
the pain was more agonizing to Lexa as the pain itself, which came as a surprise –
she jolted just slightly, but kept her leg still, and her hand tightened around
Clarke’s for a brief moment before easing up again.
“Good,” Suzy told her, “Stay relaxed. If you keep tense for the whole time, you’ll
be exhausted by the time we’re done.”
“You were right about the noise,” Lexa muttered, “It’s terrifying.”
“You wanna drown it out with Plato?” Clarke asked. Lexa nodded, and Clarke reached
over to give her the headphones, never letting go of Lexa’s hand when she did. She
leaned in to kiss her cheek gently before putting the earphones into Lexa’s ears
and finding the right track on Lexa’s phone. Lexa settled back down and rested her
head on her arm, tilted so that she could look at Clarke, and Clarke saw her jaw
was clenched.
If she was in pain, she only barely showed it.
Clarke laid back, hand still clasped with Lexa’s, and started on her sketch. By the
time Suzy was done, Clarke had finished four different sketches of Lexa’s face, all
with different expressions; at first, Lexa had looked tense and slightly in pain,
but then she’d closed her eyes and looked almost peaceful. After about an hour Lexa
grew tired, and Clarke saw this and offered her a little break – Suzy came over and
they chatted for awhile before they returned to the eternal buzzing and the little
stinging, burning pain on Lexa’s leg. At times, Suzy asked Clarke over to check on
colors, and some were changed because she’d come up with a better one – no major
changes, just slight changes in tints and tones so that the final outcome was a
beautifully vibrant and elegant flowering vine wrapping around Lexa’s calf, with
different colors matched perfectly along the black stem and outlines.
When Suzy was finally done, almost two hours had passed, and Lexa was tired to say
the least. Of course, she didn’t say it, not until Suzy finally patted her other
leg and said: “There we go. All done.”
Lexa let out a groan. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“Really?” Clarke laughed. “Didn’t seem like it, you took it like a champ.”
“I’m good at keeping quiet,” Lexa smirked. “Now lemme see it.”
Suzy showed it to her from a mirror, and Lexa grinned at the sight. “It’s great.”
“It’ll look even better when it’s healed over, I promise you. Clarke’s got an eye
for tattoo designing, gotta say.”
“For the last time, I will _never_ take up that gun-looking thing. I like drawing
and designing as much as you do, but hurting people is another thing.”
Suzy smirked at that. “You know me – the resident sadist.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.”
“Ok, now your turn. Take your shirt off,” Suzy smirked. “A carnation, was it?”
“Let’s touch up my back first and then talk about the new one.”
Clarke’s tattoos took about an hour in total, and Clarke held Lexa’s hand because
the tattoo she got kinda really hurt. The carnation she ended up getting on her
ribs, laid out horizontally right under her right boob – Lexa’s favorite boob, as
she liked to joke, and after she told Suzy that Lexa had gone bright red and
muttered her to shut up, only resulting in Clarke continuing on to joke about it a
little while longer before Lexa shoved an Oreo into her mouth to shut her up.
“You two are like every cheesy romcom wrapped up into one,” Suzy laughed, “It’s
disgusting. I get why Raven comments ‘vom’ on every single one of your IG
pictures.”
“She’s got a stellar sense of humor,” Clarke replied. “But she’s just as gross with
Anya. If not even worse.”
“There’s no way anyone could be worse than you two.”
“I’d say – ah, shit, that hurt – that Raven’s a worse sap than us. You should see
them, refusing to leave bed for days on end, a mess of legs and arms and grumbled
‘go away, Clarkes’.”
“From what I understand, you two do the exact same.”
“Okay, maybe we do,” Clarke grinned, glancing at Lexa, focused on her book. “But
it’s great.”
“I know it is. Now, you wanted pink, right?”
When Clarke’s tattoo was done and she had her shirt on again, they settled the
payment and thanked Suzy before going out.
Right outside the door, however, Lexa grabbed Clarke’s waist and captured her lips
in a fiery kiss that stole her breath away for a good long while.
“What was that for?” Clarke asked when she finally regained her breath. “Not that
I’m complaining, but-“
“I love you,” Lexa shrugged, “And I love the tattoo I got, and I love your tattoo,
and I’m just really happy.”
Clarke raised an eyebrow. “You seem hyper.”
“Maybe I am.”
“You’re weird.”
“Come on, let’s go look at cars to rent.”
“Rent? I thought we were going to buy one.”
Lexa shook her head. “Too complicated. We’ll buy one from Cali, I don’t and will
never understand why we can’t have universal emission standards in this country.”
“Fair enough.”
“Can we pick up ribs on our way home?”
“Sure, but only if you buy me a coffee from the cafe next to the restaurant. Their
coffee is divine.”
“Deal.”
* * *
The doorbell rang the next day at 8am sharp.
Clarke and Lexa were all ready by then, which was rare for a weekend morning, but
when an enthusiastic Raven Reyes tells you to suit up and come paintballing,
there’s no saying no.
“Morning, lovebirds!” Raven said chirpily. “Anya’s napping in the car. Don’t
disturb her or she’ll murder me – her exact words. Come on, we’ll grab breakfast on
the way.”
And so they set off, piled into Raven’s car on that Sunday morning, and headed down
to Long Island to the place Raven had found online. It only took them four missed
turns and about twenty minutes of being utterly lost to finally find the place, a
shed in front of a large field lined by forest on one side and a river on the
other.
“Losers take a dip in the river!” Raven suggested, and after some grumbled
complaints, it was settled that nobody was going to take a dip in the river.
“Okay, so how does this work?” Clarke asked after they’d gotten their gear and
basic instructions. “Teams?”
“We’ve got three games, each half an hour approximately. They said we'll probably
take forty-five minutes per game, so we'll see.” Lexa said, “So three different
team-ups? To make it fair?”
Raven was hyped, as was everyone else, but Raven was definitely on a whole other
level. “That sounds great, but get this – individual scores. The one who’s out
first gets no points, second out gets one point, third out gets two points, and the
last one in each game gets three. The ultimate winner in the end’s the one with the
most points. That sound good?”
There were nods and muttered words of approval, and Raven looked very satisfied
with herself. “Alright. Flip a coin for who gets who?”
“We could just start as couples,” Anya suggested, “See how this works out.”
“Alright. Any additional rules?”
“No shooting me under my right boob,” Clarke declared. “And I’d like it if you
avoided my back, too.”
“Yeah, and my leg, too. Try to not shoot it.” Lexa added. “Still hurts a little.”
“Alright, good. Shoot me in the ass and I’ll give you a high five, then murder
you,” Raven said. “And start?”
“We’ll go to our individual sides of the playing field and they’ll sound it off
when it starts.”
“Sounds good.”
Clarke and Lexa walked off to their own end while Anya and Raven went to the other,
hurrying their steps.
“We gotta kick their asses,” Clarke told Lexa, “I can’t lose to Raven. She will
gloat _forever_.”
“You take care of Raven, I’ll take Anya.”
“You good?”
“Good.”
“Ok. You’re faster than me, so I think you should get the flag.”
“We’ll think when we get there.”

There was a quick siren sound across the playing field, which was probably the size
of a football field, half set in the forest, half in the field outside the woods.
Clarke set off behind Lexa, and together they moved slowly and surely towards the
other end of the field, guns in hand and ready to shoot.
Anya was the first one out. One well-timed shot from Lexa’s gun, and she was down
before she even had the chance to realize that Lexa was there. But in the mess of
that, Raven got a shot in, barely missing Lexa but hitting Clarke in the shoulder –
she couldn’t see Raven anywhere, but the satisfied ‘ha!’ was confirmation enough
that she’d been the one to fire the shot.
Clarke and Anya moved out of the way, leaving Lexa and Raven to fight it out on
their own.
Ten minutes later, Raven emerged from the woods looking annoyed, paint splattered
across her goggles and face.
Lexa grinned victoriously and celebrated with a kiss from Clarke. “Shot her fair
and square. Didn’t even see me coming!”
“That’s because you shot me in the face!” Raven interjected. “Round two. Clarke,
you’re with me.”
“You’re going down,” Lexa taunted Raven. “You wouldn’t shoot your girlfriend.”
“Would you shoot your wife?”
Clarke smirked, and Lexa realized there was a fair chance she wouldn’t dare to pull
the trigger.
Turns out, she definitely did falter. And in that moment, with Clarke running
towards her, that little moment of hesitation was all it took for Clarke to get a
shot in, hitting her square in the chest - a satisfied cry left her lips, and Lexa
groaned, embarrassed at being the first one out. “Sorry, babe,” Clarke grinned. But
then there was an agonized cry from the other side, one which they recognized
easily as Raven.
“Looks like Anya got the hang of it,” Clarke said quickly before darting off
towards the place where she knew the flag was hidden.
She didn’t get far before Anya’s shot painted her ass pink.
“Looks like I win,” Anya said coolly, offering Clarke a hand from where she’d
stumbled and fallen. “And we’re teamed up next, I believe.”
Clarke nodded. “We’ll see how Lexa and Raven deal with us. We might actually die.”
“Stick with me and you’ll be fine,” Anya smirked. “Raven’s got one tactic, and I’ve
learned it in these two short games we’ve played.”
“Lexa’s smart, though.”
“True.”
The last game was the most eventful of the three.
Clarke was out first, from Raven’s shot, hitting her in the left boob in a way that
caused her to yelp. Lexa rushed past her, after offering an apologetic glance and a
muttered ‘sorry, gotta win first’ before she was off again. Five minutes passed,
and nothing happened – ten more, and Clarke was sure they’d all killed one another.
But then all three emerged, Anya with Raven’s orange paint on her thigh and a
murderous glare in her eyes, and Clarke realized the game was at a tie.
“So what, you two split the points?” She asked.
“No way! We’re tied as it is.” Raven complained. “I suggest a duel.”
“A duel?”
“A draw, whatever the thing they do in Wild West movies all the time. Twenty steps,
then we stop, Clarke calls it, and we turn and shoot.”
“Alright,” Lexa nodded. “You’re on.”
They did as Raven had described, walked twenty paces from one another, and stopped
for the briefest of moments – Clarke took a breath, and waited, and then – yelled.
“Go!”
There were two loud pops, and for a moment, it was unclear who’d shot who.
But then there was a cry from Raven, and Lexa made a little hop of joy when she saw
the bright red of her paint splattered across Raven’s chest, not a speck of orange
on her own person.
“I won!”
Raven groaned, evidently ashamed. “Fucking shit.”
“You came in a close second,” Lexa comforted her, “But I came in first. Naturally.”
“Hey, don’t get cocky.”
“What? I obviously have a talent for killing people.”
Clarke laughed. “Lexa, last night we watched half an episode of AHS and you almost
cried because you were so scared.”
“Oh my god, I knew it!” Raven cried. “All badass on the outside and a softie on the
inside.”
“Shut up. I still won.”
Lexa shot Raven a glare, but Clarke just walked over and rewarded her wife with a
kiss. “Congrats on winning, babe,” she murmured. “And now we gotta get ourselves
some lunch, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, please, I’m starving.”
Anya was currently cleaning Raven’s goggles, a satisfied smirk on her face, and
they could hear little grumbled curses spilling from Raven’s lips.
“When’re we gonna tell them?” Raven asked, her voice low and quiet. She thought
Clarke and Lexa couldn’t hear her, but they could.
“At lunch,” Anya replied quietly.
“Tell us what?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah, what?”
Raven looked at Anya in panic. “Um…in the car, okay? Let’s return the gear first.”
“No, first we take a picture,” Clarke decided. “I’m loving this color scheme and it
deserves to go into the collage.”
“Of course it does.”
After returning the gear and deciding on a place to eat, they piled into the car
and drove off towards a beachside restaurant Clarke and Lexa had once discovered on
a date-day.
“Now, what was it that you two wanted to tell us?” Lexa asked. “You married yet?”
Raven snorted. “No.”
“Wow, you couldn’t sound _any_ less interested in being married to me,” Anya said,
feigning hurt.
“Oh, no, babe, I just-“
“I’m kidding, Jesus. You tell them.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Tell them.”
“But-“
“Please, for the love of God, someone tell us!” Clarke cried.
“Okay, keep your pants on, Clarkey my love,” Raven replied. “Okay, so, um…we’re
sort of moving to Papua New Guinea for a year with Doctors Without Borders.”
As expected, Lexa wasn’t too phased. Clarke, on the other hand, was very shocked.
“Wait, what? We? You and Anya?”
“Yes, we. Anya and I.”
“But you’re not a doctor!?”
“They need engineers and mechanics too,” Raven shrugged, keeping her eyes on the
road. “I didn’t think I’d get it, but I did. And we’re going.”
“When?”
“July.”
“That’s so soon!”
“I know.”
“Raven, you’re moving halfway across the world!”
“Think of it this way,” Raven began, glancing over her shoulder briefly to offer
Clarke a smile, “Papua New Guinea’s closer to San Francisco than it is to New
York.”
“That doesn’t help, Raven.”
“You’d miss me?”
“Shut up, you idiot, of course I’d miss you.”
“Well, I’m going. And Anya is too. But we’ll be back in a year.”
“This is so sudden.”
“I know, I’m sorry-“ Raven sighed. “Anya, you’re quiet. And Lexa?”
“What?” Lexa asked. “I’m used to this. So long as you mail me and call me every
other day, we’ll be fine. It's not like I could stop you. You love doing these
gigs. But after that year you’re staying for at least year here.”
Anya laughed. “Fair deal. And besides, you two will be in San Francisco anyway,
so…”
“You’ll be gone for Thanksgiving! And Christmas!” Clarke realized. “Shit, Raven, I
know I tell you to fuck off a lot, but I didn't actually mean it…”
“Clarkey my wifey, ‘tis only a year,” Raven chirped. “And I shall return.”
“You better come back in one piece or I will murder your ass.”
“I’ll come back in one piece, I’ve got my hottie doc to stitch me up.”
Anya smacked Raven for that. “You’re not going to do anything that’d result in you
needing stitches. Promise?”
“Geez, yes, I promise.”
“Good.”
“Now, who’s hungry? ‘Cause I think we’re here.”
They parked, and got out of the car, but before Raven could even say a thing,
Clarke had engulfed her in a hug.
“Um, okay…” Raven began when Clarke had hugged her for a while. “Look, Clarke, I
love you, but Anya’s glaring at me and Lexa looks moderately jealous, so…”
Clarke withdrew then, and shot the two women behind her a look that got them moving
away so that she could have a moment alone with Raven.
“You want this? The Papua New Guinea thing?”
Raven nodded. “Yeah.”
“And it’ll be fun for you? Not just you tagging along with Anya?”
“No, Clarke, it’s a real mechanics job. Like, one in which I actually get to hold a
wrench and _use_ it.”
Clarke smiled at that. “Then I’m happy. But you better mail me too. And call me.”
“Of course. Anything for my wifey.”
“Raven, you’ve gotta stop calling me that. Lexa would never admit it, but it makes
her jealous.”
“But don’t you like her being a little jealous?”
“Raven-“
“Fine, fine, I’ll stop. Now let’s go eat, I’m starving and Lexa clearly still wants
to gloat about her victories.”
> of course our heda won. it's only natural.

> also, i like to think that Raven totally rubs her bigger point score in Anya's
face...maybe we'll see that in the next chap?
73. Chapter 73
> woopidy woop the woods are here for the last-ever round
> i'm gonna miss those bastards
> just kidding i totally am not
“Lexa, you need to wake up. Now.”
Lexa groaned and swatted at Clarke’s hand. “Five more minutes.”
“Lexa, I know it’s really early, but you need to take this phone call.”
Lexa, still yet to open her eyes, reached over with her hand and took the phone
that Clarke was offering her.
“This is Lexa Griffin,” she said, with no hesitation in her voice when she said her
last name. It’d taken her a few months to get used to it, but now she truly felt
like it was her name.
“We are so sorry to deliver you this news, Miss Griffin, but your uncle, Titus
Woods, passed away this morning.”
“What!?” Lexa’s eyes burst open then, and Clarke jumped in surprise. “What happened
to him?”
“He was attacked, ma’am, in the yard late yesterday afternoon during outing. He
sustained severe internal injuries, and passed away this morning about an hour
ago.”
Lexa didn’t quite know what to say. “I see.”
“Our condolences. Since his brother, your father, is in solitary, I’m afraid the
funeral arrangements fall to you. You can, of course, opt for us to arrange it, if
you’d prefer-“
“Um, I’ll arrange it,” Lexa muttered. “Who do I contact about his…remains?”
“You’re welcome to contact the detention center directly. We offer our sincerest
condolences.”
Lexa sighed. “Well, thank you.”
She hung up then, and set the phone down, a look of shock on her face.
“Remains?” Clarke asked. “What-“
“Titus is dead,” Lexa said quietly. “Attacked.”
“Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“And I went and said I’d arrange for the funeral.”
Clarke sighed and moved in closer. “You really don’t have to.”
“No, of course not. I’ll have some of dad’s employees take care of it, I want
nothing to do with him.”
“Are you okay?”
Lexa let out a laugh. “Clarke, I never cared for him in my life. Yes, it’s a sad
feat, but honestly, he had this coming. I’m not surprised he got beat up, though
that he passed from it is a little unexpected, it’s not shocking.”
“So you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“Permission to make jokes about this?”
“Yes.”
Clarke opened her mouth, tried to think of a joke, but it was too early. “I’m too
sleepy. It’s like five in the morning. I'll think of one later.”
“Why were you awake anyway?”
“Lexa, your phone rang for ages until I finally answered. You sleep like a damn
rock.”
“Now lie down and let me sleep again,” Clarke muttered, “We have packing to do
tomorrow. Well, I do. You get to go down to Sing Sing for a delightful visit.”
Lexa grimaced. “I don’t want to.”
“You don’t have to.”
“They requested it. I don’t know why, but I guess it’s to yell at me once more
before they’re put away for life. Or to beg me to try and help them.”
“Nevertheless, you don’t have to visit.”
“One last time. I’ll bring a copy of the New Yorker, and be strong. I’m not going
to cower.”
“You still ok to go alone? ‘Cause I can totally come along…”
Lexa shook her head and yawned. “No, I’ll be fine.”
And so they slept a few more hours until Lexa’s alarm rang, and begrudgingly as one
could, Lexa crawled out from underneath Clarke and got ready for the day.
One more day, and she’d be done.
One last time seeing them, and she’d be done.
She thought of her uncle, and felt a little twinge in her heart – but it wasn’t
emotion towards him, it wasn’t sorrow or anything of the sort; no, she just felt
the tiniest bit guilty of the fact that she could’ve cared less that he was dead.
But, then again, he had tried to ruin her life by acting according to her parents’
wishes. Not to mention his crimes sent shivers down Lexa’s spine.
“Got what he deserved,” she muttered as she buttoned up her shirt. She smoothed out
her hair, which was tied into a ponytail, and did one last check on her makeup
before turning to leave.
“You leaving?”
Lexa turned around to find Clarke sitting up in bed, hair a mess, eyes dazed and
sleepy, looking as adorable and enticing as ever.
“Yeah.”
“C’mere. A kiss for good luck.”
Lexa went over and kissed Clarke, softly as she could, and made a little face when
she pulled away. “Your breath stinks.”
“It smells lovely,” Clarke hummed. “No, I know, it stinks.”
“That’s why you should cut down on all your coffee,” Lexa smirked. “But I gotta go
now. You’re all cool about having to start with the packing on your own?”
Clarke nodded. “I recruited Octavia and Raven to come help me.”
“Not Anya?”
“She’s working.”
“Didn’t she just finish a shift yesterday?”
Clarke nodded and tapped her nose. “Yes, but she’s doing a double shift to get
tomorrow and the day after that off so that she can make our farewell party.”
“Right.”
“Now get your butt moving.”
“I will. One more kiss.”
Clarke rolled her eyes but kissed her anyway, and then laid back in bed for a
little while before she’d get up and start packing.
The moving company was coming in three days, and they’d only just barely gotten
started on packing their things.
The move itself was only a week away, and Clarke was jittery and as nervous as
ever. Lexa was nervous too, and by extension, Fish was as well – he could sense the
tension in the air, and the pile of cardboard in the foyer seemed to interest him
greatly. Though they’d managed to put the boxes high up enough that he couldn’t get
to them, he had spent most of the day before sitting in front of the cupboard,
staring up at the cardboard, his little nose twitching in curiosity and annoyance
that his mommies had dared to deny him what was obviously a brand new toy.
When Clarke did finally roll out of bed to take him for his morning walk, Lexa had
gotten to Sing Sing, and as Clarke strolled through the sun-lit paths of Central
Park, Lexa sat in a plain grey room, waiting for her father to be brought in.
At first it had been arranged that she’d meet with both her mother and father, but
her mother had backed out – of course she had. Lexa wasn’t surprised at all that
her mother had no desire to see her, and was glad that she only had to deal with
her father for the brief visit.
The door buzzed, and in walked her father, clad in an orange jumpsuit and looking
absolutely trashed. His goatee looked even messier than usual, and the change from
finely tailored Italian suits to a jumpsuit sure brought his class and aura down to
a normal person’s level.
Lexa knew that Clarke would’ve said he looked like a hobo, and almost laughed at
the thought. But she didn’t, no – she clenched her jaw and sat up straight, peering
into her father’s eyes without ever flinching, not even when a glare entered the
green of his eyes.
She put the New Yorker issue on the table before him, spread out onto the article
about herself, and smirked when she saw anger flare up in his eyes when he read the
article’s title.
“The Woods family: the story of a gay daughter growing up with two homophobic
parents”
“Is this a joke?”
Lexa shook her head.
“Are you happy now?”
Lexa cocked her head slightly. “How come?”
“You’ve sufficiently wrecked our family name,” her father snarled, “Brought it to
ruin. The company is destroyed, our wealth – everything your mother and I worked so
hard to build, you’ve ruined.”
“Oh, no,” Lexa said coolly, “I believe that was all you. I cannot take credit for
your expertly hidden blackmail and embezzlement schemes coming to light.”
“I know it was you, Alexandria,” her father hissed. “You told that group to leak
the information.”
Lexa didn’t flinch when her father said her old name.
“It was not.”

“You had a hand in it.”
“There’s no way you could ever prove that, given that it’s false.”
“Have you no respect!?”
Lexa was almost amused by how riled up her father was.
“Respect?” She asked, her tone of voice never changing or rising. “Tell me,
_father_ , what have you ever done to earn my respect? What part of the years of
abuse, of name-calling and beatings and conversion therapy, what part of you taking
every precaution to ensure my misery, what part of that was supposed to get me to
respect you? Or was I supposed to respect you for your talents? For your financial
prowess? Because, seeing how all’s exposed now, your ‘empire’ was built upon a
basis of lies and deceit. You never worked hard for anything other than for
covering your ass all the way.”
Her father stumbled slightly with his words, but his anger did not die down. “We
will make your life a living hell, Alexandria, because this? This is too far.”
“Too far? This, to you, is too far?” Lexa laughed. “Do you want to know what I
regard as ‘too far’? Threatening my wife. I told you already in Carson City to back
off, but you didn’t listen. You had Titus come and harass her, you brought her shit
that I did not want her to deal with, you hurt my wife, and if it were up to me,
I’d gladly have your head on a spike for that. That was too far. So go ahead, try
to make my life a living hell. We’ll see how well you succeed from prison. I don’t
expect you to make friends – your assets are frozen, your schemes exposed, and I
wouldn’t be surprised if some of your future cellmates held a great hatred towards
you. After all, you have successfully put away hundreds of criminals…”
She signalled to the guard that she was done, and as he came over to take her
father away, she got in the very last words.
Her father was glaring at her, and as he stood up, he made an attempt to spit at
her. But she’d known to expect it, for some reason, and side-stepped right in time
for it to miss.
“Pitiful,” she tutted. “But it looks like I won, in the end. You tried to wreck me
but you failed. Have fun rotting away for the rest of your life, father. I’m sure
you’ll appreciate the plain and simple lifestyle of Sing Sing. And if you don’t…
you’ll learn. After all, you have no choice.”
With that, she left through the other door.
She felt satisfied with herself.
She’d walked out, left them behind, and with each step away from the prison, each
mile put in between her and her parents, her mood elevated, till she came home and
practically skipped in. Fish greeted her happily, and she scooped him up into her
arms, a bright smile on her face, before waltzing into the living room. There, she
found Clarke, Raven, and Octavia, all sitting on the floor and piling her various
books into boxes.
“How was Sing Sing?” Raven asked, throwing her a smirk. “You look perky, at the
least.”
“It was great. I kicked verbal ass. Threatened to put his head on a spike if he
came near Clarke,” Lexa cooed at Fish, “That’s right, I’ll murder anyone who tries
to hurt your mommy.”
Clarke laughed and got up, groaning a little bit as her stiff muscles complained at
the sudden movement. “So it was all okay? What’d he say?”
“He blamed me for everything, yelled at me – I suppose he might’ve been distracted

by the article I showed him in the beginning, I’m sure he had some actual things to
say, but- it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”
“Good. That’s great.”
“How are things here?”
“Lexa, you own too many candles,” Octavia declared. “I’ve packed forty-one as of
now, and I think that’s the total.”
“That’s less than I thought.”
Clarke smirked. “I might’ve gotten rid of a few.”
“Clarke!”
“Lexa, Octavia originally found sixty-three candles. We do not need that many
candles.”
“What if there’s a blackout?”
“Then three or four candles will do. Not sixty.”
Lexa pouted, but set Fish down and joined the packing party anyway. “I’ll miss this
place,” she sighed as she placed a few ornamental statues into paper and wrapped
them before putting them in a box. “I liked it.”
“It’s not like we’re selling it,” Clarke reminded her.
“I still get to keep my place, right?” Raven asked.
“Yes, Raven, you and Anya get to keep your home.”
“But wait, I didn’t tell you-“
“What?”
“We only moved in together like last week.”
Octavia let out a disbelieved laugh. “Raven, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”
“What?”
“You’ve lived together for months.”
“No, we haven’t.”
“Yes, you have,” Clarke joined in on Octavia’s side. “I thought so, at least.”
“And none of you bothered to say anything?” Raven asked. “Geez, what kind friends I
have.”
“You would’ve told us to shut up if we pointed it out.”

“For the record, I didn’t think you were living together,” Lexa said. “Anya’s too
careful to just jump into something like that.”
“Voice of reason here,” Raven grinned. “Miss smarty-pants.”
“I just know Anya. She likes to have a plan B.”
“Wait, what?”
“Don’t worry, she doesn’t seem to need one with you anymore. You’ve grown on her.”
“That still sounds bad.”
Lexa laughed. “It’s not. She wouldn’t be going with you overseas for a year if she
wasn’t serious about you.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Speaking of going overseas…what’s this I hear, O, about you
and Linc-y boy going to England again?”
Octavia rolled her eyes. “Don’t call him that.”
“What else should I call him? Linc?”
“Or Lincoln?”
“Nah, boring. But seriously, England, again?”
Octavia shrugged. “He’s making some partnership deals. And we’re going on a
roadtrip, too.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“Shut up.”
“Everyone’s leaving, in some way or form,” Clarke sighed. “This is a little weird.”
“It is,” everyone else agreed.
“But we’ll be there for Thanksgiving,” Octavia promised Clarke.
“And Anya and I will Skype, or something, and drool over all the delicious food.”
“That’s a binding promise, you know that right?”
“Of course it is, Clarke. Nobody misses Thanksgiving.”
“You tell that to my Mom. She’s been rambling about flying you two back over for
the day.”
“I’ll convince Abby at the party tomorrow. She’s just there for dinner, right?”
“Yes, Raven, you don’t have to worry about Mom seeing you get trashed.”
“Good. Great. Perfect. I’m excited.”
“Of course you are, you’ve been daring Lexa into a darts competition for months.”
“I’m beating your ass,” Raven said to the brunette. “You’re going down.”
Lexa laughed. “You wish, Reyes. I'm kicking _your_ ass.”
> i know i said nobody wasn't gonna die but...i really hate titus. got what he
deserved (we'll see if the woods themselves succumb to a similar fate in the future
but i'm currently more in favor of a slow, agonizing life in prison and dying of
old age and misery)
> lexa is badass and she would totally have her dad's head on a spike if she really
wanted to
74. Chapter 74
> alright, we're going out with a bang

> having fun, everyone's happy, nobody died, we made it
Lincoln had reserved the Ark for their farewell party, for the whole day, to be
exact – everyone showed up at the bar around three in the afternoon, their party
clothes in their bags and all prepared to help set up the dinner. The tables in the
bar were round and small, but they were lined up in one big row, so that everyone
would sit across from someone. There was to be ten people at dinner altogether – in
addition to Murphy and Bellamy joining the normal crew, Abby and uncle Kane had
come to New York for that special day. They were only to remain for the dinner, and
not for the after-party – though there’d only be eight people at said party, it was
sure to get rowdy, what with Raven and Murphy and Octavia all in one small space
with unlimited alcohol and a great audio system.
Murphy, Lincoln and Lexa moved into the kitchen to cook the dinner itself, while
Bellamy set up the snacks and desserts table; most of the foods on offer were from
his bakery, and nobody complained. His pastries, sweet and savory, were the
absolute best.
“Hey, no pre-gaming with the foods,” Bellamy snapped, smacking Raven’s hand away
from the cupcakes. “There’ll be plenty to go around once we get started.”
“But I’m hungry now.”
“Too bad.”
Raven huffed and moved back over to help Octavia move a table into place. Anya and
Clarke were setting the table, Anya with the plates and Clarke following with the
utensils.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Anya asked Clarke once they’d finished folding
the napkins.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
They moved out into the back, to the room full of ciders and kegs of beer, and
Clarke eyed Anya suspiciously. Though she’d become friends with her in the past
months, she was yet to quite figure how to read her – even now, with a slight smile
playing in her expression, Clarke felt a little off.
“I know you and Lexa are both nervous about the move,” Anya started, leaning on a
shelf and crossing her arms. “But I want to talk about Lexa.”
“Okay.”
“Make sure she makes friends, okay? She’s not very good with…well, she doesn’t even
notice when she needs social contact. But you see how she’s around us, when there’s
lots of us and we’re having fun – she lights up.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“But this’ll be a new place, so she’ll probably retreat to her ‘focus on work,
relax at home’ routine that she’s been doing for years. Drag her out. She’ll
complain, but you can’t be her only friend in San Francisco. It’s not healthy for
either of you.”
Clarke nodded, and smiled. “I know.”
“Good,” Anya said, returning her smile. “You two will be fine. Just remember –
space is good. You find your own circle of friends, and push Lexa to find hers. I
don’t want to see you two getting on each other’s nerves and this….you two
imploding on one another.”
“That’s sweet, though you still managed to make it sound like a threat.”
“That’s my style, I suppose.”
At that moment, Raven burst in with Octavia, and looked from Anya to Clarke in
confusion. “What’s this secret meeting?”
“Nothing,” Anya and Clarke said at the same time.
“You best not be messing with my woman,” Raven tutted, tapping Clarke’s nose as she
walked past her to get the wine they’d been sent to retrieve. “Or I’ll have to kill
you.”
“Raven, don’t be stupid, Clarke wouldn’t cheat on Lexa for the world. Pretty sure
they’re soulmates,” Octavia laughed. “Now come on, let’s leave these two conspirers
to it.”
A while later Abby and Kane came in, and there were hugs all around – of course,
Abby hugged her daughter and daughter-in-law the longest, glad to see them after
such a long time.
Kane had brought plenty of cider, and ended up spending half the night discussing
with Lincoln about possibly getting some for him to sell in the bar.
“Alright, should we eat?” Clarke asked when niceties had been exchanged and Murphy
began looking anxious about his cooking getting cold. “Everyone can sit wherever,
there’s no order other than that you have to sit at the table.”
And so everyone sat down. Clarke sat across from her mom in the middle, with Lexa
on her right and Octavia on her left – across from Octavia sat Raven, next to whom
sat Lincoln, Anya seated across from him. On Lexa’s right side sat Murphy, across
from her sat Bellamy, and in the last remaining seat sat Kane. It was messy,
everyone was kinda mixed up, but it made for excellent dinner conversation.
The food was delicious as always, and there was plenty to go around – everyone had
suggested a favorite food or side dish, and so there was a little of everything;
there was pulled pork and chicken, and potato skins and fried mac&cheese(Raven’s
favorite), and various little side dishes scattered about. Of course there was a
salad, too, and Abby made sure everyone took some to retain at least ‘some level of
healthiness’.
When they were done with the main course, they all collectively gathered the foods
away and then Bellamy’s desserts were brought out. Raven dug into a cupcake the
instant she got hold of one, as did Octavia, and for a while, the whole table
laughed at the dab of purple frosting that made her look absolutely adorable.
“Now, Clarke,” Abby began once she’d gotten her cappuccino, “Are you all set up for
the move?”
Clarke nodded. “Yeah, just about. We’re leaving some basic furniture here – the
mattress, the table, and such, so we'll have to go shopping once we get to Cali,
but that’ll be fine.”
“Alright. How do you feel?”
“Nervous,” Clarke sighed, catching a sideways glance from Lexa. “We both are.”
“You’ll be fine,” Abby reassured her. “San Francisco’s nice. You do know that I did
my internship years there, right?”
Clarke nodded. “You’ve only told me about it about a hundred times.”
“Well, it’s wonderful. The fog’s nice, too, though it takes a little getting used
to. Don’t be fooled into thinking it’s all warm and sunny, you have to have proper
warm clothing unless you want to catch a cold.”
“Mom, you’re a doctor. You know you can’t catch an illness from being in the cold.”
“Yes, I do, but it does lower your immune system and makes you more susceptible-“
“Mom, I was joking,” Clarke laughed. “We’ll make sure to wear our jackets and
scarves and beanies whenever we go out.”
Abby rolled her eyes at her daughter, and Clarke laughed again.
“I’m proud of you, Clarke.”
And then Clarke’s eyes widened a little – those were words her mother didn’t use
very often, and she was a little surprised. Abby noticed, and smiled – or perhaps
it was a smirk – before continuing:
“You stuck your ground, and you’ve built yourself a life – I was a little worried
about you before, with your stint-like jobs and that…but now you’ve got a wife, and
a job in your field, and a chance for actual art shows- it’s just amazing. I’m so
incredibly proud for you.”
Clarke smiled and reached over to give her mom’s hand a squeeze. “You’re going to
make me cry.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes! I did my eyeliner so well tonight and I won’t have it ruined.”
Abby laughed, and then they melded back into the table conversation, which was
currently discussing the plausibility of zombies’ existence.
Anya, Raven, Kane, Lexa and Murphy were arguing that zombies were a scientific
impossibility. The rest were telling the other side to use their imagination and
not be so nit-picky at all times.
The debate ended with Lexa and Anya proving the scientific facts to be true and
Raven saying “ha, in your faces!” in a way that had Octavia attacking her with
tickles. And then it was time for Abby and Kane to leave, if they wanted to get
back to Baltimore before midnight.
Clarke cried a little when she hugged her mom for the last time. Abby did too.
Lexa took a picture for the collage of the moment, and it ended up being one of
Abby’s favorite pictures of her and her daughter.
She hugged Lexa too.
“I’m so glad you and Clarke found each other,” Abby said quietly when she pulled
away, bringing her hand up to stroke Lexa’s cheek gently. “You two are going to
have great adventures in California, I’m sure.”
“We’ll try, at least,” Clarke smirked.
“Well, we’re gonna go now. I’ll see you in a month, right?”
Clarke nodded. “Yep. A month. We’ll be waiting.”
“I’ll bring cookies,” Abby replied. “Bye. I Love you.”
“Love you too, mom.”
And then, the instant the door had shut in their wake, there was a loud pop when
Raven opened a champagne bottle, sufficiently startling everyone.
“Okay, now let’s get this party started!”
Two rounds of shots, and the mood in the bar had sufficiently been turned on it’s
head. Octavia was in charge of the music, and she’d picked some jumpy music with a
beat to which they all danced. Murphy did some weird solo on the tables till
Bellamy decided he was definitely going to fall and less-than-graciously picked him
up from the table, almost sending them both to the floor. But they were fine, and
the party went on with more alcohol and more fun to go around.
Of course there was a beer pong tournament, with each couple being one team. Murphy
and Bellamy were the first ones out, and then it was Clarke and Lexa, leaving
Lincoln and Octavia to compete in the finals with Raven and Anya.
Raven’s aim was crap by this point, her having downed three shots in a period of
time far too short, but Anya was still appearing as sober as one could be. Lincoln
had the advantage, having played basketball all his life, and Octavia had good aim
too.
The game came down to one cup on both sides, and for a long while, both sides kept
missing. But then Raven, in her frustration, just tossed the ball, and by some
miracle, the ball landed in the cup – and then she was dancing, rubbing her victory
in Octavia’s face, resulting in the second attack of tickles of that night.
Lexa leaned against Anya, feeling happily drunk, and looked at Raven who was
currently pinned to the floor by Octavia’s nimble fingers running up and down her
sides. Anya, watching from a ways’ off, was jealous, and it was blatantly obvious.
“Jealous, huh?”
Anya shot Lexa a glare. “Shut up.”
“You might as well have a storm cloud over your head,” Lexa informed her,
hiccupping a little.
“So maybe I am. I shouldn’t be, they’re friends.”
“But you’re currently watching your girlfriend be pinned down by a pretty girl. I
get it.”
Anya shrugged it off and moved on to the other side of the bar where Murphy,
Bellamy and Clarke were engaged in a game of darts.
“Can I join?”
“Go for it.”
Lincoln came over then, with a tray full of shots, and set it down on the table.
“Alright, we’re all getting very drunk, so I’m taking the sharp darts away.”
“Aw, no-“ Clarke complained. “I didn’t even get the chance to kick Raven’s ass
yet.”
“You can kick her ass with magnetic darts.” Lincoln told her.
"But they're crap!"
"No complaints," Lincoln said as he took the darts from her hand and gave her a
shot in exchange. “Try that. It’s called a Surfer on Acid, since you’re going to
Cali-“
Clarke downed the shot and grimaced. “Whoah. Ew.”
The rest of them took the shots as well, and once again, their level of drunkenness
rose.
Somehow they all ended up around the pool table to watch Bellamy and Octavia
compete in a never-ending game – Clarke and Lexa were sprawled out in a booth,
giggling and drawing patterns on each other’s skin; Raven laid on a table, swinging
her legs, while Anya sat on said table and endured Raven’s hands running up and
down her thighs in a more than suggestive manner.
Lincoln was trying his best to not see Raven’s hands on Anya’s thighs, focusing
instead on the game and cheering his wife on.
Murphy had decided to start singing. Nobody dared to complain, because the last
time Raven had dared say that his singing was sub-par, Bellamy had threatened to
kick her ass.
“Okay, she totally cheated,” Bellamy complained when Octavia won. “She knocked the
table.”
“The table weighs a couple hundred pounds, Bell,” Octavia told him, tapping his
head with the stick, “And I won fair and square. Drink up, brother.”
And so Bellamy ended up having to chug his least favorite drink – Malibu, they were
still in the California theme – and then a while later he was the first to puke.
“Clarke?”
Clarke turned around, a little more sloppy than supposed to, and ran into Lexa, who
caught her with ease. “Hm?”
“You’re really pretty.”
Clarke hummed and kissed Lexa messily. “You’re prettier.”
“You’re prettier-er.”
“It’s prettiest, nimwits,” Anya muttered from where she was sitting with Raven in
her lap. “You two are grossly adorable.”
“Someone get Anya another drink, she’s grumpy!” Lexa cried.
Anya tried to decline it, but then Raven offered her a bodyshot instead, and before
Anya could even say no, Raven was already laying on the table, her shirt up
exposing her stomach and she had no other choice than to do it. This of course
inspired a round of bodyshots, taken by everyone off of everyone, and then they all
just sat down and played a few rounds of would you rather until they had all
sufficiently proven themselves to be the worst of people.
“Okay, okay, last one,” Raven laughed. “Would you rather…give your grandpa a
blowjob or have him eat you out?”
There was a collective groan, and Clarke threw a few peanut shells in Raven’s
general direction. They missed, and hit Octavia instead, who was leaning heavily
against Raven, giggling happily as Murphy continued to make funny faces at her.
“You’re disgusting,” Clarke told Raven, “I will not answer that.”
Raven just laughed.
And then Lincoln emerged from the storage room, a deck of cards in his hands.
“Okay, anybody want to play poker?”
When they all got up, Octavia stumbled so that she ran into Raven, and Raven of
course caught her. Anya saw, and despite knowing how stupid it was, felt jealous at
how at ease Raven was with Octavia.
She and Raven decided to sit the first game out, and as quickly as she could, Anya
dragged Raven to the storage room in the back. Before Raven could fully register
anything, she was pinned up against the wall, with Anya’s lips kissing her own with
bruising force.
“Whoah, slow down,” Raven mumbled, “No need to be so- oh, shit, yes.”
Anya’s hand had slipped where she wanted it most, and she had nothing to say
against it.
“You’ve been neglecting me,” Anya muttered as she thrust into Raven, “And you’re
mine.”
Raven let out a laugh. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Anya grumbled and kissed her again. “Maybe.”
“Aww. Adorable.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
* * *
Four rounds of poker and plenty of fun later, at around 3 in the morning, they
finally decided to wrap it up. They left the clean-up for the next day, all
promising to come in to help, and one by one, the couples went their respective
ways. Raven and Anya, though their heading was the same, had left a little earlier
than Clarke and Lexa, knowing the two wanted some alone time.
They had walked out, and were on their way to get a cab, when Clarke suddenly froze
in the street, a dumb smile spreading on her face. Lexa looked at her, her world
spinning a little from all the liquor in her veins, and was confused.
“What?”
Clarke grinned and pulled her closer, and kissed her without explanation, so
passionately and deep that Lexa actually let out a moan. And then Clarke pulled
away, wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist, and leaned against her, burying her
face into her neck as she laughed gently.
Poor Lexa in her drunken stupor didn’t understand any of what was happening, but
she held Clarke anyway, loving the way it felt.
“It’s funny,” Clarke finally explained. “This is where I got the call about you,
right here. Right next to this dumpster.”
Lexa let out a laugh. “That’s romantic.”
“The last time I left New York, I came back with a wife. Now what? A baby?”
“How about we just focus on living life first?”
Clarke kissed Lexa again, and they started off towards somewhere where they could
get a cab.
“This is going to be great,” she said quietly into Lexa’s ear when they got into
the cab. “San Francisco’s going to be great.”
Lexa smiled, and laced her fingers with hers, and nodded. “Of course it’s going to
be great.”
They drove on, through the empty dark streets of New York, till they reached their
apartment and practically stumbled the remaining distance to their home. Fish
greeted them, and they greeted him, glad to find that no boxes had been destroyed
while they were gone. And then they made their way upstairs to their bedroom, now
empty but for the mattress, and after stripping out of their dresses they fell into
bed together.
Lexa was almost asleep when Clarke laughed beside her, drawing her into looking at
her curiously.
“What now?”
Clarke just chuckled and leaned over to kiss her, climbing atop her and settling
there, skin on skin, as close to her wife as she could.
“Nothing, I was just thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“About how I was so sure I’d never marry,” Clarke slurred, her finger running
circles along Lexa’s cheek.
“Well, you were wrong.”
Clarke hummed and rested her had on Lexa's chest, sighing contently.
“To think I ever thought I wasn’t the marrying type.”
> WE CAME A FULL CIRCLE GUYS, STARTED AT THE ARK AND ENDED THERE
> also ending with the title of this fic is another thing i'm very happy about
> there'll be one more chapter, an epilogue as you could say, and then...SEQUEL.
> that's right bitches, i ain't goin' nowhere (or maybe, i do have finals coming,
but this marathon of a fic is at it's end and i'm going out with a BANG)
> this has been a fun run, see you tomorrow for the last time on this fic <3
75. Epilogue
> ok i just had to write an epilogue to finish this up with 75 chapters because i
like that kind of even numbers
They’d been driving since early morning, and Lexa was fast asleep in the passenger
seat. Fish was asleep too, curled up in his cage set up in the backseat, buried
amidst a few suitcases and other things they hadn’t been able to put into the
moving truck – Lexa’s beloved succulents were in one crate, safely fastened to
prevent it from tipping over, and Clarke’s aloe vera plant’s leaf was tickling her
neck every now and then, not enough to be irritating but enough that she had to
shove it away on occasion.
It was sunny, and the skies were the brightest clear blue she’d ever seen – not a
single cloud in sight, and it was blaringly hot outside, but nice and cool inside
where the AC kept the temperature at a manageable height. Adjusting to California’s
eternal summer was going to be a bit of a task for both of them.
Clarke didn’t complain, though. Constant sunshine and warmth meant that she was
treated to seeing Lexa wear shorts on a daily basis, and her legs were Clarke’s
weakness – especially now, adorned by the all-but-healed tattoo.
Before they’d left New York, they’d both tied up the very last loose ends. Lexa had
met with Costia’s mother, alone, and after a long, quiet talk, she’d agreed to
continue funding her treatment.
From what Clarke had heard, Costia’s mother was planning on pulling the plug
eventually. Lexa was willing to give her all the time she needed.
She’d been a little quiet about it, but with a few days, the incident had been all
but forgotten in the face of their brand new adventure.
Clarke’s last loose end had been Raven. She’d treated Raven to a day of just the
two of them, of movies and wandering around and just having fun together like good
old times. By the end of the day, when they’d stood at Clarke’s door hugging it
out, Raven had cried a little – Clarke had too, and Raven had made fun of her for
it, and then it’d come time for Clarke to go home and sleep before they left early
the next morning.
Raven and Anya had seen them off in the morning with waves and hugs. Both their
hearts had ached when they’d finally sat in the car and driven off, but soon enough
the ache had been replaced by excitement – they had the open road ahead of them,
the whole world to see, and all the time in the world to see it all.
And so, after driving around for about a week, they had finally set their heading
for San Francisco.
Clarke glanced at Lexa, curled up in her seat, and smiled to herself. Lexa had
driven well into the night, determined to get them as far as they could so that
they could reach San Francisco during the day and not late at night. She deserved
this nap, this rest - there was still a ways' to go till they'd reach their new
home.
But then they came up to the top of a steep rise, and Clarke suddenly smacked Lexa
awake when she saw the vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before them – she’d
known they had to be close, but it wasn’t until they came up over the hill that she
saw the sea; it was vast and empty, and the sky above it looked endless. The sun
shone, and the sea sparkled, and Clarke simply had to pull over to a viewpoint on
the side of the road so that she could marvel at the view.
Lexa, having been woken so suddenly, took a while to properly process what had
happened. She smacked her lips a few times, and Clarke chuckled at her tiredness,
and gave her a nudge.
“Look. We made it!”
Lexa rubbed at her eyes, and yawned, and then she saw it too, and gasped. “Holy
shit.”
“I know.”
“I forgot how vast it was.”
“I know.”
They got out of the car, and let Fish out for a little walk as well – they were at
a viewpoint, the road squiggling down along the side of the tall hill they stood
atop of.
“Do you smell it? The sea?”
Clarke inhaled deeply, and nodded. “Yeah. Smells like home.”
And then Lexa laughed, and swept Fish up in her arms, twirling the two of them
around while Clarke stood a ways’ off. Her wife didn’t notice she was taking a
picture till she heard the click of the camera, and then she froze and turned to
look at her, still smiling brightly as ever.
“Could’ve warned me,” Lexa called out. “I would’ve posed.”
“I like taking natural pictures.”
“You mean stalker pictures.”
“Hey! I’m not a stalker!”
“I was just joking, geez-“
“Oh, damnit,” Clarke said. “I should’ve gotten that smile right then.”
Lexa rolled her eyes and gave Fish a quick kiss before beckoning Clarke to come
closer. “Put the camera there and let’s take one together.”
Clarke did as told and rushed over in the three seconds the camera gave her, making
it just in time to wrap an arm around Lexa’s waist and turn around to smile at the
camera. There was a click, and then she turned her head to kiss Lexa, Fish pressed
in between them, and there was yet another click, and another.
“One of them oughta be good,” she explained as she went back to the car. “Now come
on, let’s get going. It’s four hours to San Francisco and I’m itching to get home.”
“Yeah,” Lexa grinned as she climbed back into the car. “Let’s go home.”
> okay holy shit wow im done what the fuck do i do now
> right, the sequel. it's titled Everywhere You Look and the first chapter will be
out tomorrow, it'll be part of the TMT series which you'll notice this fic is
already a part of.
> this has been a strenuous and long journey for me and for you, my lovelies. i'll
admit i've developed callouses on my pinkie and ring fingers on both hands from
typing so much on a daily basis (granted, i did also start and finish a novel of my
own, but still - lots of writing happened)
> this fic went to places i didn't expect it to take me. i was supposed to finish
before chapter 20. and then, when i surpassed that, i told myself i'd finish up by
chapter 35.
> and now we're here, at chapter 75, and i honestly have no idea how i got this
far. glad you enjoyed all of this. i'm excited to keep going with the sequel, i
know you all will love it.
> and with that i conclude this fic.
> guess who's emotional? that's right, me.
> not gonna cry.
> might cry.
> anyway...stay tuned for more, 'cause there for sure will be more.
**Author's Note:**
> don't forget to leave kudos and comments

> you can find me on tumblr @clexy-polarbear
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The Marrying Type

Series: The Marrying Type [1]

> i'm clexy-polarbear on tumblr, hit me up

“So, would you describe yourself as an organized person?”

But she needed the money.

She _desperately_ needed the money.

“I botched it, Raven. Drinks?”

“He was wearing the ugliest suit.”

“Did you fuck it up on purpose?”

She hoped not.

“Alright, Griffin, two shots and then you talk.”

Clarke looked at Raven and sighed. “Fine. What is it?”

“Vodka. I want you speaking, dear.”

Raven did not appear phased. “He’s always gone.”

“No, he’s gone for good. He left, Raven.”

“That’s good, right? You hated that bastard.”

Clarke shrugged. “Yeah. Not too much of a fan of his side-skanks.”

“So he’s gone.”

“Not when I can’t afford the rent on my own.”

“You wouldn’t be a very good stripper.”

“Raven your apartment is literally as big as a shoe box.”

“Where would I sleep?”

“He owes me money, too.”

“That bitch. You want me to hunt him down?”

“Apparently he got a job in California. Or perhaps he just found a new girl to

“He’d love that.”

“I kinda want to kill him, you know?”

“I'm sure that could be arranged.”

“But I kinda just wanna forget he even exists.”

“Who were we talking about again?”

“Hello?” She slurred into the phone. “Who dis?”

“Yes, who this?”

_She wasn’t married._

She couldn’t be married…right?

No, this was some sort of mix-up.

Where even was West Valley Hospital?

“What the fuck?”

“I have a wife.” Clarke giggled.

“Uh, no, you don’t.”

Clarke hummed and leaned back.

Or maybe she was just really really drunk.

“I’m marrieeedd….” She sighed contently. “Wifey. I wonder if my wife is pretty.”

She had a wife.

She couldn’t have a wife.

She wasn’t married.

She couldn’t be married. No, she certainly could not.

Clarke Griffin was definitely not the marrying type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

“You’re the one who invited me for drinks.”

“You’re the one who insisted we do shots of _vodka_.”

“Your fault entirely. Should’ve spilled your guts earlier.”

“This is still your fault.”

“I hate alcohol.” Raven muttered. "I'm never drinking again."

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

“I beat you in darts--”

“In your dreams, Griffin.”

“Lucky you.” Clarke hummed from the floor. “Lucky me.”

“What the fuck is this?”

Raven glanced at her briefly and shrugged. “Like I care.”

Notes for the Chapter:

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