CH. 1

"Home, home, home," Clarke chants through chattering teeth, her steps landing in rhythm in the snow. Her fur-lined coat and boots and the scarf made from the reflective scraps of an old Ark-blanket, are holding some of the warmth in but there is only so much they can do in negative temperatures. Dark, solitary, negative temperatures. She grumbles a snide interruption to herself about "temperate climate, my ass" and her "liar of an Earth History teacher", and then goes back to chanting.

"Clarke, hey!" A voice comes out of the darkness, then is followed by a bobbing lantern. The moon is hiding behind some clouds, so Jasper's face doesn't materialize until he's a few steps away. She jolts to an unsteady stop.

"Jasper! It's so late. What're you doing out here?"

His boots skid on the snow too and her arm comes out to help, just in case. He swats her hand away, grinning.

"Me? I'm a wanderin' bachelor-man; this is what I do." Jasper's eyes are lit with cheer but she can see the past in them, too; loss had cast a lingering shadow on all of them. His tone remains light, though. "I was exiled from a perfectly good, ahem, herb-sorting..."

Clarke rolls her eyes.

"...session...so that Monty and Miller could do it. Their sex exiled me from my own house." Jasper's eyes light up even more.

"I was 'sex-iled'! Get it?" Clarke automatically raises her hand for the high-five, their heavy gloves meeting with a dull but hardy smack.

Still giggling, he points to a cabin about 10 yards away at the edge of his lantern's light; it disappears and reappears in the gusts of snow. That moon is still hiding.

"I'm going to hang out with Monroe." He brings his lantern over to her face, noticing her red cheeks. "Why are you out here, again? You can't get sexiled. Your sexile would just be, 'Honey, it's time for bed', right?"

Clarke's small smile is hidden somewhat by shyness, and she tilts her head downhill toward the medbay, the great circle of Alpha Station pitch-black against the night's shadows.

"Harper had her twins! It was a long labor but she handled it so well." She hesitates for a split-second. Harper, struggling on the bed in the medbay, gritting her teeth about finally getting some kind of payback for going through torture...

Jasper jumps in, "Both girls? I bet they're both girls." And Clarke smiles.

"They are! How'd you know?"

Jasper looks sheepish for a moment, and she should be warned that a more-than-normal endearing comment is about to come out of him.

"Strong women breed strong women around here, Clarke." He giggles again and gives her a pointed look. One shoulder tips toward her in a half-bow. "You know that."

Clarke feels her heart swell and she suddenly isn't cold, couldn't ever be cold, not when she and her good friend can chat about babies, and life, and legacies. Jasper fidgets under the gratitude dancing in her eyes and makes a little hop in the snow toward Monroe's cabin.

"Aw shucks, Clarke," he teases, wide smile aimed at the ground, and raises the lantern toward her. "You want?" She shakes her head, still unable to say anything.

"Alright, Doc. I'll see ya tomorrow." Suddenly, he flings his lantern high, triumphantly. "I have baby names for Harper!"

Clarke laughs, making sure he can hear her, as he moves toward Monroe's door, his voice fading, "Mary is a good name...Jane's a good name..."

She hears the thunk of Monroe's door closing after Jasper strolls in without knocking; the snow is sweeping across the landscape now to completely hide the cabin from view. Clarke begins up the hill once more, and she speeds up her chanting to get her there faster.

"Home, home, home..."