A/N: As I watched season 2 on Netflix, I was aware of a lesbian subplot. As I watched the sexual tension build between Clarke and Lexa, I found myself filling what I thought their thoughts would be in my own mind. I guess this fic will be about S3 what I didn't write about S2. I obviously don't know what will happen episode to episode, so we will just have to wait to see where this story goes. Yes I know most of this is the retelling of that scene, but I always have my own thoughts to throw in.

Setting: During Season 3, Episode 1

"The cat got the worst of it." Niylah began to gently wash the drying, caked maroon blood from the panther claw marks on Clarke's back as Clarke scoffed. The pain of the injury was just something else to distract her from the pain of her memory, her memorial to the dead. "No kill marks," Niylah murmured, referring to the tattoos that grounders proudly displayed after a battle justly won. To grounders, slaying their enemies was the ultimate honor. To Clarke, it was ultimate anguish. She was not one to inflict death on innocent.

"My back isn't big enough." Clarke still bore the horror of what she had done. She was not proud; Clarke felt dead inside. Niylah asked about the mountain which had claimed her mother. Clarke refused to talk about the mountain despite Niylah's insistence. It's odd how something so noble to one person can be so bitter to another.

Clarke's eyes closed as Niylah continued to wash her back. Over the last three months, Clarke had foregone one basic need. Not food, not water, not shelter. Touch. Humans need humans. It's often not realized how much one missed it until she has it once again. This realization hit Clarke as Niylah brushed the wet cloth across her back, touching her skin with her warm hand. Clarke relished in the touch.

Bare skin to skin contact can be the most erotic of caress, sometimes that's all that is needed to spark the flame leading to much, so much more. Clarke's inner response, inner desires drove her to action as she grasped Niylah's face, pulling it into hers, lips crashing, hands wandering. Excruciating need to touch and to be touched. Intimately. Clarke barely knew Niylah yet she felt like Niylah was the only person who existed in this moment in time. Each tongue wrapped around the other and the desire overcame the pair.

Collapsing, Niylah flipped Clarke over into the mountain of furs of which Clarke grabbed handfuls of as her eyes closed in ecstasy. Not only is the first real human touch she had felt in three months, it was what she needed to start erasing the pain caused by the betrayal at Mount Weather. Niylah's attraction to Clarke had been instant the first time Clarke had dragged a fresh kill into her post looking to barter for something to better suit her new nomadic ways. The meat would have spoiled and been wasted. So Clarke had wanted to make the best of her situation.

Although Clarke had initiated the kiss, Niylah felt the need to take over and reveal through action – the thoughts she'd been having of the red-haired Waheda. Despite Clarke's fervent need, Niylah took her time and worshiped Clarke's body to create new skin memories to replace the memories in Clarke's tormented mind. Leading Clarke to her bed, she lavished attention to every inch of Clarke's battered body, entrenching new memories into her mind.

Earlier two scouts had come into the trading post with a crudely drawn picture of Waheda. Niylah knew why they were there yet wasn't going to let them capture Clarke. Everyone knew of the bounty yet Niylah felt a deep need to protect this dirty outsider with her dyed red hair. She could only hope that her lies had been enough to lead the men away from the woman she wanted deeply to protect.

Clarke bolted awake from the dream that had haunted her for the last three months, the moment her and Bellamy's hand had pulled the lever, killing their enemy along with hundreds of innocent people. Looking to her left, she realized she was in a fur covered bed next to Niylah. She realized that sometime during their escapades, Niylah had led her to the bed, undressing each of them as she went. Clarke closed her eyes, reliving the night of unbridled passion. Niylah seemed so knowledgeable yet so innocent all wrapped into one. Clarke quietly dressed so as to not wake the blonde whose touch was gentle. Clarke's need for contact had been satiated for now. Since she was being tracked, it was now her that needed to protect Niylah. She could not afford an emotional connection that would ultimately come back to haunt Niylah. Clarke wanted no more innocent human blood on her hands.

Once dressed, Clarke gathered her things along with the cured meat Niylah had packaged for her earlier. She slipped out of the trading post in which Niylah also lived. As soon as she had taken two steps out, one of the scouts lie in wait for her. Grabbing her, he placed his razor sharp blade against her throat. "Hello, Waheda." Oh how Clarke now wished she had stayed in bed next to Niylah in the true safety she had found in Niylah's arms.

A/N: Some chapters may be short, while others longer. Thanks for reading, and I'd love to read your reviews.