this is a companion piece to 'the other side of despair', that fic where lena and lexa are criminals, and kara and clarke are agents in charge of their files, and lena is kara's childhood best friend.
now, read, ponder, and enjoy!
I breathe you and my whole body brightens.
-Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides, Anne Carson
Jake Griffin loved solitaire. Klondike, Spider, FreeCell – they were his things, and he taught his little girl all the tips and cheats she could pull to excel at every one of them. Ask her about poker and she'd tell you it's a game for wimps – nothing could trump the intensity of solitaire. There were many times when her friendship with Raven and Octavia almost burned down to flames because she was too good.
Solitaire was a good reminder that her father had ever existed. A sad reminder that her father was no cocooned in an eighty-four by twenty-four by twenty-three box, six feet under molding earth, rotting into piles of bones and then rotting into earth. Also, a good way to burn away boredom, so there was that as well.
She almost turned off her earpiece to focus on her game in the conference room because Kara was complaining too much, when said FBI agent decided that she had had enough of sitting in a van. She didn't know the Danvers sisters well, but she knew that they were close and she was always amused at their interactions.
"I'm playing a pretty fun game of solitaire with myself if you wanna join," she offered, wondering if she would regret it as soon as Kara joined her.
There was a moment of silence, and before anything could be said, the alarms went off. Clarke threw the hand she held on the table, messing up the neatness of the cards already laid down on the table in favor of grabbing her holster and raising her own alarms. She looked around the room, taking in the details as her eyesight had long since adjusted to the darkness.
Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that The Shiv and Trigger – if they were even a part of this – were careless, which seemed unlikely. Maybe Alex had really gotten her intel wrong. Maybe this really wasn't them.
She tried to call out for Kara and Alex and everyone else involved in this operation, but nada. Nothing in her ear but static. Well, whoever they were, they were good, and she was starting to get uncomfortable. She licked her lips and glanced mournfully down at the messed up cards before she tried to jiggle the door open. As expected, it was locked. Fucking automatic systems.
A bullet or two would probably do the trick. Hopefully, Kara wasn't trapped like she was. Otherwise, the heist would be well under way and Alex didn't have much backup outside. She didn't trust the capabilities of FBI agents. Removing her gun from the holster, she aimed the barrel at the lock mechanism situated at the top of the door, ready to shoot.
"I wouldn't do that."
Yelping was undignified, unfit for a seasoned CIA agent, but yelp she did. The nozzle changed its target towards the direction where the voice came from – a silhouette of a slight woman, nimble and well-formed, hidden in the shadows. She tightened her grip and steadied her aim, well prepared to take the shot if the woman so much as moved.
The woman chuckled. In the midst of her confused and slightly scared brain, Clarke found that chuckle lilting, almost musical. Taunting nonetheless. She swallowed and kept quiet, waiting for the woman to make her move so she could have an excuse to squeeze the trigger. She'd been wanting to shoot someone real for a long time, instead of targets in the target practice room. It probably wasn't an ideal thought for a government official, but she was anything other than ideal, which was one of the reasons Kane recruited her in the first place anyway.
"I heard it's expensive," the silhouette said. "And property damage is not our intention."
Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Our?"
"Oh, yes," the other woman whispered like she just came to a realization, remembering something. She stepped forward, out of the darkness and into the little light that the moon afforded room. "Nice to meet you, Agent Griffin. You usually call me Trigger."
Holy shit. First thing she saw was those green eyes, almost grey – gunmetal. Instantly, she knew she would be sucker for them. And to add to that was an incredibly well-endowed face, cheekbones and thick lips and luscious hair and the like. Once again, Clarke wondered why she had the misfortune of picking up this case.
Barely able to, but still managing, she muttered, "If you're Trigger and you're here…"
"My partner is preoccupied with Agent Danvers at the moment," Trigger said.
"What are you trying to steal?"
Trigger cocked a brow and heat pooled at Clarke's lower hips. When an amused smile crossed the criminal's lips, Clarke understood that she had an idea of her effect on her. This was not good. Trigger was a criminal and she was a government official hell-bent on taking down the likes of her.
Then again, more often than not, the CIA agent always found herself thinking that the government should just let them be. Despite the murders and corruption and theft, The Shiv and Trigger had been doing good for this country, if not the world. As a matter of fact, their actions had only propelled the success rate of various government agencies in detaining notorious bad guys and filling out the prison.
"I think you and Agent Danvers know that if we were here to steal, you wouldn't know we'd be here in the first place," Trigger said casually, sitting down on the chair that Clarke had previously occupied. "Sorry for messing up your game though. I was rooting for you."
"You were watching me?" Clarke balked.
The brunette rolled her eyes good-heartedly. "We've been watching you for a long time, Clarke."
A shiver made its way over Clarke's spine at the sound of her name leaving the woman's lips. She suppressed them by gripping her gun tighter.
"You can put that down."
"You're making it very easy for me to arrest you right now."
Trigger nodded in agreement and then she tilted her head curiously at Clarke. "But you won't." Clarke's fingers loosened. "Sit down, please. I imagine my partner will take quite some time with Agent Danvers."
She sat down, but the gun remained in her grip. One would never know. "I'd say it's pretty unfair that you know my name but I don't know yours."
"Maybe if you're lucky."
"I don't believe in luck."
"That's unfortunate," Trigger sighed, cracking her neck and rearranging the cards into a neat stack. Clarke noticed that she did so through the format of categories and then numbers. It took her only ten minutes to finish arranging and sliding the stack across to Clarke. "I have a request."
"We don't negotiate –"
"Don't call us terrorists," Trigger said firmly, letting a little bit of annoyance through. Clarke shut up and watched the way the brunette's brows furrow and the edge of her lips lower. She should be arrested just on the grounds of being too attractive. "My partner and I will really appreciate it if you'd drop the case. You and Agent Danvers, that is."
The blonde scoffed, grinning with a lack of mirth. "That's preposterous."
"It will benefit all of us in the long run. Save your lives. Help our operation." She didn't miss out on how Trigger categorized her and Kara and then herself and The Shiv. "You are a bright agent, Clarke. An interesting person. Can't help but be interested in you." Clarke cleared her throat. "I'd hate to see you and Agent Danvers come into any harm because you don't know to stop."
Since Trigger seemed to be in a mood for sharing, Clarke figured it wouldn't hurt. After all, it seemed that she was going to be in here for a long time. If they could manufacture a farce like this, it wasn't difficult to deduce that they had an exit plan. And when the partners in crime already had a plan, not even the entire FBI and CIA personnel could apprehend them.
"If I'm in charge, I would have let you do your thing a long time ago," she admitted, putting down the gun.
"Oh?"
"Don't push it." Trigger smirked. "So why me and Kara? You're smart. You should know that we're not the ones in charge; we just handle your files. There's no way we'll be able to just drop the case because you ask us to."
"Because I wanted to finally meet you." Never let it be said that Trigger wasn't cordial and polite. The perfect gentleman. Even Clarke's past lovers hadn't been so well-behaved. "The person who's handling me –" she smirked when Clarke's cheeks heated up "– you're not too bad on the eyes. But of course, I knew that already."
"Is this what you do? Flirt with every person you meet?"
"Only the CIA agents handling me."
"Jesus."
"You haven't given me an answer yet."
Clarke huffed, running her fingers through her hair. "I can't just drop the case. I have an obligation. It's my job. I have a boss and he is hell-bent on arresting you. He wants the credit. He wants The Shiv if that's possible."
"Would you, though? If you're in charge."
"I already told you that."
Trigger nodded. "Good to know." She looked about to say more, but something buzzed in her pocket and she fished a phone out. Upon reading the message, Clarke thought that Trigger looked a little crestfallen. She sighed regrettably and stood up, with Clarke mimicking and picking up her gun again. "There is no need to shoot me," Trigger said with a bemused smile. "I'd hate to cut this short, Agent Griffin, but my partner has finished with Agent Danvers and we will be taking our leave now."
"You can't –"
In a moment, Trigger was right in front of her. Trigger, the top of the Most Wanted list, The Shiv's partner, was in close distance with her and putting herself up for arrest. And Clarke was numb. She couldn't move or do anything, because Trigger's gunmetal eyes were electrifying and dark, smelled like cinnamon and pine, and had some unhidden freckles spattered across her cheeks.
Trigger took Clarke's immobility as an approval and moved in to press her lips against Clarke, and the CIA agent was done for. Her mouth was warm, gentle, the pillows of her lips soft against Clarke's. And she opened her mouth with a low moan, her free hand dangling over the criminal's neck while she was pulled in closer by hands on her waist.
They were pressed up against each other, braced by the wall behind them. Pants and moans and wet sounds filled the room as they couldn't get enough of each other. It obliterated every rational thought that had been running through Clarke's head as Trigger's tongue made an entrance into her mouth, meeting up with hers. And god, she even tasted like cinnamon.
The worries of the day went away with the click of their teeth. The Most Wanted list evaporated like lingering raindrops in the sun. The gun in her hand was locked in the past. Their quickening breaths matched easily, and it felt like this kiss was a signal of the beginning, a promise of more to come.
Need for air eventually trumped their need for one another. Trigger gently pulled back and pressed her forehead against Clarke's, panting against her skin with a gratified grin. Clarke had her eyes close, returning the gesture with as much enthusiasm. She hadn't been kissed so well in a really long time, probably ever.
"You're trouble," she concluded.
Trigger chuckled and then pulled away once she'd regained her breath. Clarke wanted to push forward for the intimacy again. "Until next time, Clarke Griffin."
When she finally opened her eyes, the room was empty and one of the windows was open. A scoff escaped her lungs at the realization of the criminal's lame escape plan. She touched her lips, the warmth and gentleness of Trigger's insistence imprinted on them, and smiled.
They had been cooped up in the interrogation room for almost an hour. Clarke replaying their kiss in her head for the hundredth time, and Kara reeling from her encounter with The Shiv. Whatever it was that Kara saw, it obviously didn't bide well on her, unlike Clarke's.
"I made out with Trigger," she burst out, clenching her hands into fists, waiting for the judgement.
But it never came. Instead, Kara just stared at her for awhile before she nodded and went back to staring into space. Clarke decided that she probably wasn't in the mood to discuss it right now, and they still had a ton of reports to write in the morning.
Calling it a night, she left the bureau and stood out in the street, breathing in the air and allowing her composure to settle. She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and froze when she felt paper. She didn't remember writing anything. Pulling it out, she unfolded the symmetrically folded paper and gasped when she saw the writing.
Guess you're lucky ;) – Lexa
i really like this universe. i will write more. if you have any ideas, prompt me on my tumblr overcanary!
