Lexa was sitting in a corner, bored out of her mind, when she saw her get in. The diner was almost empty, it being quite late, and she whipped her head as soon as she heard the bell of the door ring.

She was alone, carrying a huge bag from which a couple of paintbrushes peeped out. She was slightly disheveled, but that could have been the layers she was wearing making her seem messy. It was fairly cool outside, especially during these hours.

Lexa knew she had been staring the moment Clarke started scanning the room, presumably to find Lexa. Lexa, who on her behalf had excused herself, turned away and started walking towards the kitchen at a rather fast pace.

When she entered and leaned against the sink, Anya squinted her eyes at her. "What are you doing?"

"No, nothing. Ignore me." She said, looking at the ground.

Anya rolled her eyes. "If you don't get back Quint is gonna think you are doing nothing and he's gonna tell Indra. He already hates you so if you don't have a valid reason, I suggest you go back."

"I'm gonna kill Quint." She muttered, "Just a minute, I swear."

Anya clicked her tongue, starting to clean up the dirty plates. "I warned you."

After a solid three minutes in which Lexa hadn't moved, Anya was starting to worry she had stopped breathing, so while doing the dishes, she addressed Lexa. "What's happening?"

Lexa answered slowly. "Nothing."

"Cut the bullshit," Anya sighed annoyed. When Lexa said 'nothing', a shitstorm was about to happen.

When Lexa remained silent, she prodded her. "Come on, Lexa. It is now or I'm never listening to your sad bullshit ever again."

"She came." She absently answered.

"Who?"

"The girl. You know, the one on the bus."

Anya almost dropped a plate while turning to look at Lexa. The brunette fixated her gaze on the admittedly interesting floor (it was a patchwork of different and horribly arranged tiles), her eyes seemingly devoid of any emotion.

Anya was more than a little surprised that Lexa had finally found the courage to talk to her. "Why is she here?"

Lexa frowned, "It's a diner, Anya."

This time, Anya put down the glass she was cleaning. "So you mean to tell me that she casually stumbled in this godforsaken place where you work because she, living in this oh so small city of TonDC, couldn't find one nearer her house? Yeah, and I'm gonna believe you." She stopped, "Or do you actually believe this? I mean— you actually think she just found this place randomly? Because that's just pure madness."

"Ok, I may have told her I'd have liked it if she showed up, but I didn't think she would have?"

"And what are you doing?!" Anya hissed, "Go and take her order!"

Lexa gaped, "Ok, ok, just…"

"Go!" Anya gestured with a dirty spatula in her hand, "And give her you number this time!"

Lexa almost stumbled outside and she immediately had to take action, because she saw Murphy approaching her table. She looked between Clarke and Murphy, both of them hadn't seen her; she sprinted towards Murphy, gripping on his forearm so tightly he winced.

"The fuck, Lexa?" he growled when he turned around.

"Sorry," she whispered "I'm gonna take that table."

Murphy raised his eyebrow, "Is everything ok? Not that I care,"

"Yes,"

"Then let go of my arm." He said, perplexed.

She realized she had still a tight hold on his forearm, so she released it, smiling apologetically. As he walked away, huffing and muttering a string of insults, she took a deep breath and turned around.

Clarke was already smiling at her, and Lexa winced internally thinking she had probably seen the whole scene.

She walked over, keeping the most unaffected expression she could manage. She was about to give her the routine treatment, when Clarke spoke.

"Hey there." She shifted in her seat, smiling confidently at Lexa.

Her plan flew out of the metaphorical window as her lips moved on their own accord and a grin tried to grow on her face. She tried repressing it, resulting in a slight twitch of the side of her mouth. "You came," was all she could say.

"How could I not? It's a diner, and I'm dying to get that 'tired artist who eats by herself in a cute retro place' aesthetic."

This time Lexa laughed openly, mentally sending to hell her common sense. "You're getting there. What can I bring you?"

"I don't know," Clarke assumed a pensive expression, "What would you take?"

"Oh, well. Any kind of pie here is awesome."

"Then pie it is." Clarke declared cheerfully while scanning the menu. "Cherry pie?"

Lexa smiled, noting it, "On its way."

From afar, Murphy observed the two of them. "Lexa has a crush." He whispered to Mbege.

Mbege, occupied with disposing cupcakes on their shelf, looked at him with a frown. "On who?"

"Look for yourself." He answered, vaguely pointing in Lexa's general direction.

Mbege's scowl deepened, "No way."

"I knew she was gay." Murphy bragged with a cocky smirk.

"You don't know, jackass. Plus didn't she have a thing for Gus?"

"Please, she always told him what a wonderful friend he was. He had a thing for her, maybe. But Lexa is as straight as a curve."

Mbege shrugged, "She could be bi or whatever, don't put her in a box."

Murphy raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "Are you even hearing yourself, Mbege? She doesn't even look at guys."

"Yeah, that's your job. But listen," he continued, finishing aligning the cupcakes and cleaning his hands, "First of all, that's her business. Secondly, stop gossiping about your own sister, it's idiotic." Murphy snorted, "third of all, enough with the gay guru shit. Go see if Nyko needs anything else."

Murphy clicked his tongue, "Yeah, all the four clients we have must be hard to manage. Including the one who's feeding on Lexa's sole presence. Look at her, she's ridiculous."

Clarke was eating her pie, looking at Lexa almost the whole time. She wasn't even trying to distract Lexa in any way, also because Lexa looked anywhere but in her direction.

Mbege settled near Murphy, indeed noticing a blonde girl making puppy eyes at a suddenly rather clumsy Lexa.

"Anyway, honestly," Murphy continued, "I kinda care for her. Foster siblings sticking up for each other and shit, you know? I might need her someday. And I've heard her talking about this girl at least a billion times this week, it's pretty annoying after a while."

Mbege sneered, "And here I thought you were showing positive emotions."

"Ew." Murphy grimaced, glancing one last time at Lexa's potential new girlfriend before getting up.

Clarke, in the meantime, was having a serious internal struggle. Lexa had barely interacted with her, mostly just quick glances from afar and sweet smiles. Clarke knew she had to do the next move, but she couldn't help but wonder if maybe she had read the signs wrongly.

Maybe Lexa didn't want it after all, she was a stranger on a bus with whom she talked a bit. And flirted, kind of. Towards the end.

She had finished her pie, waiting for Lexa to come back. She planned what to do next. She would ask Lexa if she wanted to go out sometimes, it didn't have to be a big deal. Just to have fun, enjoy themselves.

"Here's the bill." A stranger voice startled her from her thoughts. She looked up, seeing a young man with an apathetic expression looking at her.

"Um,"

"I knew you were expecting Lexa," he smirked, "I'm gonna be quick. Lexa is emotionally constipated so she's not gonna ask you out. Ever. Now that's what you are gonna do," he began.

"I plan to." Clarke blurted out, a bit annoyed at the guy's tone.

Murphy tilted his head, amused. "Oh. Well, that was easy." His smirk grew bigger, fueled by satisfaction.

She stared as he left, dumbfounded. But as she was leaving the money and a big tip on the table, and getting up to wait for Lexa, another voice startled her (twice in ten minutes, and she wasn't trying to beat a record).

"Clarke. I see you already paid."

"Oh, a waiter came by and…" she gestured at the table, where the bill and the money laid.

Lexa frowned in confusion, but after a second her gaze turned murderous, if Clarke read it correctly, and she asked, "Could you please describe him?"

"Longish hair. They were braided, I think? Blue eyes. He told me you are emotionally constipated."

Lexa breathed, closing her eyes. "Please ignore whatever he has told you. I'm gonna kill him later."

"Actually," Clarke began, not sure of how to put it into words. "He told me to ask you out."

Lexa froze immediately, heat rising to her cheeks. "I— I'm sorry."

Clarke made her best to not let the disappointment show on her face. "Oh. No, nothing at all."

"He just," Lexa sighed, "He just has a habit of making people uncomfortable, I hate when he does it. He has to understand that not every girl who smiles at me wants to date me."

"I'm not uncomfortable, I swear." Clarke smiled, fairly amused by the situation. "Well, but what if that's the case?" she added.

"I— um, are you really…?"

Lexa's stuttering made Clarke giggle, "If you don't want to, it's ok."

Lexa's eyes widened and she inhaled, "No, no. That's— I'd like to. Yeah."

Clarke smiled broadly, "That's awesome," Clarke began, but before she could go on, Lexa interrupted her.

"You're gonna need my number, though." Lexa reached for her arm, raising up her sleeve just enough to bare half her forearm. The numbers were promptly followed by a big L for Lexa that made Clarke smile.

She kissed Lexa on her cheek, "I'll call you," she whispered.

When Clarke finally closed the door behind her, waving Lexa goodbye one last time, Lexa finally released her breath.

"Hey, psst. Anya."

"Murphy."

"Did you see Lexa?"

Anya raised her eyebrow. "No, I was working. Unlike several people here, apparently."

Murphy shook his head, "Whatever. Listen, she has the most fucking idiotic crush on a blondie that—"

"I know."

"Fantastic, what do you wanna do about it?"

"… Mind my own business?"

Murphy clicked his tongue, "That's not the spirit, come on."

"Murphy, why do you always have to be a pain in the ass?"

Murphy knit his eyebrows angrily, "Fine." He left the kitchen and stomped his way back to Mbege.

"Where are you going?" Murphy asked, laying upside down on the couch.

"Out."

"With who?"

"A friend." Lexa said, searching for her favorite scarf.

"That's the second time you see a friend outside the bus," he noted with a smirk.

Lexa turned, considering just smothering him with a pillow. "Why don't you find yourself a friend too?"

Murphy scowled, "I have Mbege."

"You know what I mean. A friend."

Grimacing, he adjusted himself more comfortably, "I'm just fine on my own. I don't need nobody."

"If that floats your fancy."

"Anyway," Murphy continued, deciding to ignore his sister's weird expressions, "Is she a friend to you?"

"Too soon to say." She found the scarf, conveniently stuffed at the end of the last drawer.

"But you like her,"

"She's nice."

Murphy smirked. While he wasn't exactly a fan of emotional rants, his sister could be impossibly stoic at times. Her expression was unreadable most of the time and she always pondered for ages before showing her emotions. So this admission wasn't to be taken lightly, and Murphy was more than a little surprised that she had managed to admit to herself she liked a girl she had known for two weeks tops.

While he thought about it, Lexa had already left, throwing a 'see you later' as she closed the door behind her.

Now, the only thing that was stopping him from making Lexa take a step forward was finding an accomplice. He was mentally scanning all of his close friends, ruling out almost everyone because of different reasons. Frustrated after coming empty-handed, he sighed heavily, changing position on the sofa and adjusting himself on a pillow. He was already accepting that nobody would help him and that he'd have to do it alone, but as he heard a knock at the front door and a muffled, "John, it's me. Help me with the grocery bags!" he knew the person he didn't consider was the most obvious choice.