A.N. Okay, so this is my first Clexa fit. I hope I've done them justice. I honestly don't know if it will be continued. I guess it depends on the kind of reaction it gets! Enjoy!
XXXX
Clarke glances down at her watch, cursing Octavia for being late again. She'd shown up 20 minutes late for her shift, which meant Clarke's lunch break got pushed back, and it meant she was late for her appointment to get her hair cut. And if there was one thing she hated more than anything it was being late.
She approaches the salon at a bit of a jog, throwing the door open, and she's immediately overwhelmed with the sights, smells and sounds coming from inside.
It's nearly surreal.
Rock music is blasting through speakers she can't see, and it smells like a fine mist of hair product is just hanging in the air. Everyone standing behind each row of chairs is dressed in black from head to toe, most in ripped jeans or cargo pants, with boots of some kind covering their feet. Some wear motorcycle boots, some cowboy boots. Everyone has their hair done to perfection, and Clarke is silently cursing Octavia again for recommending this place to her because she feels ridiculously out of place.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asks.
Clarke tries to smile, but she feels like her teeth are sticking to her lips, and she figures it's too late to back out now. "Clarke Griffin. I have a 4:30."
"You're late," the girl mumbles offhand. "The commander won't be happy."
"Excuse me?" Clarke asks.
"Lexa, your 4:30 is finally here!"
Clarke follows her line of sight and notices a girl typing away on her cell phone occupies the only chair along the right side of the salon without a stylist working. The girl rises when she hears the receptionist's voice call to her and she seems to be sizing Clarke up as she approaches.
"Nice of you to finally show," she mutters. "This way."
Clarke is caught off guard by the attitude. "I'm sorry, I had to wait for a coworker to show up before I could leave, and she was late."
"Have a seat," Lexa says, getting straight to business. "My name is Lexa. Can I hang up your coat?"
"Thanks," Clarke replies, tugging her coat off and handing it over. She watches as the receptionist scurries over to take the coat before Lexa can even move.
Clarke takes a seat, and watches in the mirror as Lexa pulls a smock out of a drawer and in a move that makes her look more like a matador than a stylist she whirls it out and around Clarke's neck in no time.
"I bet you do that for all the girls," Clarke says, smirking.
"Excuse me?" Lexa asks, looking more than mildly annoyed.
"Nothing," Clarke mumbles, her face burning with embarrassment. "I really am sorry I'm late. I'm usually really punctual. Like, annoying so."
"I understand," Lexa tells her, finally softening a bit. "We're just very busy. So what are we doing today?"
Clarke is finally able to meet her eyes, and when she does she feels her heart stutter in her chest. This girl has the most beautiful eyes Clarke has ever seen. She blinks. "Um. Just a trim today."
Lexa nods and suddenly bends at the waist to pull Clarke's hair out to each side. "It looks like we can just trim about an inch and a half to get rid of the split ends."
Clarke nods, biting her lip. Lexa is very close and she smells very good.
Lexa seems to notice her staring and smirks, clearing her throat. "I'm assuming you want to keep your hair as long as possible?" When Clarke nods dumbly, she smiles a little wider. "You should. You have beautiful hair."
"Thanks."
Lexa pulls a small towel from her drawer and goes about tucking it into the neck of the smock. "Right this way."
Clarke takes a moment to watch the girl move as she's led to the bay of sinks at the hair washing station towards the back of the salon. She's slim, but carries an air of confidence that Clarke finds extremely attractive. She's wearing a pair of tight cargo pants and heavy black boots, topped by a dark crew neck shirt. Clarke finds herself fascinated by the girl's hair as she walks behind her. It's long and curly, done in several intricate braids and Clarke thinks it looked beautiful.
She's so focused on Lexa's hair that she nearly runs into her when she stops at a chair for hair washing.
"Have a seat," Lexa says, motioning to the nearest chair.
Clarke drops into the seat and leans back as Lexa gathers her hair up so it can be dropped into the sink.
Lexa tugs her sleeves up her arms, and Clarke's eyes are instantly drawn to the tattoos that wrap around one of her wrists.
There's a sudden hiss as the water is turned on, and a moment later a hand is raking gently through her hair bringing her face to face with several more tattoos scattered along the underside of Lexa's wrist.
"How's the temperature?" Lexa asks looking down at her.
Clarke's eyes cut away from the tattoos and tries to focus on anything but the chest in her face. "Fine."
"Let me know if it gets too hot."
Clarke can feel her face flushing again and she sincerely hopes that it doesn't extend all the way to her scalp. She sighs happily as her eyes slip closed. There are very few things she loves more than someone washing her hair. Lexa works silently above her, and Clarke bites her lip every time the other girl brushes too close, because she smells so good and she has really amazing hands, and she would really hate to make an even bigger ass out of herself.
"Is this your natural hair color?" Lexa asks once the water shut off and she shakes some shampoo into her palm. She begins working the shampoo into Clarke's hair.
"Um yeah," Clarke answers.
"It's really beautiful," Lexa says.
Before Clarke can respond, the water is flipped back on and hands are in her hair again to rinse out the suds. She finds herself nearly drifting off as Lexa's fingers weave through her hair and scratch at her scalp, and after a round of conditioner the water is shut off one last time.
"That was awesome," Clarke sighs. She freezes when she realizes she spoke aloud, and can feel her cheeks heating up. Again.
Lexa smirks down at her for a moment before she digs around in the drawer next to her for a towel. She spends a moment wrapping blonde locks up in the towel. "Right this way."
Once Clarke was back in the chair, Lexa digs around for everything she needs, and uses her foot to pump the chair up a few inches so she can get started. She moves around to stand in front of Clarke as she unwraps the damp towel from her hair. She takes a step closer, moving each leg to stand on either side of the footrest as she begins to towel dry the other girl's hair.
Clarke honestly tries to behave, but she can't help but let her eyes trail over the other girl's slim shoulders and her collarbones exposed by the open collar of her shirt.
"An inch and a half?"
Clarke startles and glances up to find a smirking face watching her. Clearly she's been caught checking her out. "Sure." Clarke nods. "I like your necklace." She hopes it isn't a totally lame way to cover her staring.
"Thank you." Lexa moves behind Clarke and begins running a wide-tooth comb through her hair. "So what do you do, Clarke?"
Clarke swallows, because there is just something about the way Lexa says her name. "I'm a bartender. At The Ark."
Lexa's eyes narrow for a moment, like she's trying to place the name, but her gaze remains focused on the task at hand. "That's the place over on 7th?"
"That would be it," Clarke says with a proud little smile. She likes it when people know her bar.
Lexa nods, her face unreadable. "Do you enjoy being a bartender?"
Clarke's eyes dart up to watch Lexa's. She knows that most people look down on bartenders; thinking they aren't educated enough, or smart enough to do anything else with their lives. But Lexa seems to have meant her question innocently enough.
"I do actually," Clarke responds with a smile, thinking about the things she'd witnessed over the years. "I mean, sometimes I have to deal with drunk frat boys grabbing my ass, or the occasional cheater that's been thrown out of their apartment and just wants to cry into their beer, but most of the time it's people wanting to have a good time. They're celebrating birthdays or anniversaries, or promotions or bachelorette parties. It's kind of nice to be involved in peoples' celebrations."
"That does sound nice," Lexa says.
Clarke nods, holding her eyes in the mirror. "You should come by some time. Bring your friends."
Lexa's hands pause and she looks up, meeting Clarke's eyes again. "Maybe I will."
Clarke smiles, holding her gaze. Lexa has really beautiful eyes. "So what about you?"
The spell is broken and Lexa goes back to trimming. "What about me?"
"Do you enjoy what you do?"
"I do," Lexa replies with a nod. "For the same reasons as you, I suppose. I get to be a part of special things for people too. People come in looking for a new look or a fresh start for a new job, or they're getting over someone. Girls getting ready for prom, boys for their big dates. Who knows who I'm helping get ready for a big celebration at The Ark?"
Clarke meets her eyes again, smiling, and Lexa's eyes are blazing and her lips are tugged into a small smile.
"Chin down," Lexa orders softly.
Clarke follows her orders and feels a pull in her stomach as she thinks about the way those green eyes burn right through her.
As Lexa tends to her hair, Clarke takes the time to watch the stylist working at the chair next to her. He is huge. Tall and muscular, his head bald and his muscles straining against the sleeves of the tight black tee shirt he wears. She smiles because he is cutting the hair of a girl that can't have been more than 7 or 8. He has to keep having her stand so he can sit in the stylist chair so he could trim her hair properly.
The second time the little girl has to stand up she gazes up at him. "You look like G.I. Joe."
Clarke can't help the snort of laughter escaping her, and she notices several people nearby are grinning at the little girl as well.
"It's because of my muscles, right?" he asks, flexing playfully. He turns towards Clarke's chair. "What do you think, Lex? Because of my guns?" He flexes at her.
"He never misses an opportunity to flex," Lexa says conspiratorially, smirking at him.
"You love it, baby," he replies with a wink.
"Boyfriend?" Clarke asks, trying her damndest to sound nonchalant.
Lexa actually snorts. "Definitely not." She meets Clarke's eyes. "Not really my type. What about you? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
Clarke feels a tug in her gut and she smiles at the way Lexa seems to be adamantly avoiding her gaze. "Definitely not. I'm sort of married to my job right now."
"I understand that," Lexa says, glancing up with a small smile. "So what do you do when you're not bartending?"
Clarke's lashes flutter as she considers the question. "I love to paint." She notices Lexa's eyebrows twitch up at this, like she hadn't been expecting the answer. "And sketch, anything art related really."
Lexa seems to absorb this information quietly and with a nod. "Is that something you went to school for, or would want to go to school for?"
"No." Clarke shakes her head, a bitter chuckle escaping before she can help herself. "No. I was actually pre-med before I dropped out."
Lexa seems to sense her proximity to an emotional landmine and sidesteps it rather neatly. "Life takes us in strange directions sometimes."
"That's an understatement," Clarke snorts.
"Would you like me to blow dry your hair for you?" Lexa asks, watching her expectantly.
Clarke glances down at her watch for a moment, trying to gauge how much time she has before she has to be back at the bar. "Please."
Lexa bites back a smile and nods her head. She pulls a round brush from the drawer and pulls one more canister of product out. She pours some in her palm and runs her fingers through Clarke's hair gently several times. "Heat protection."
"Smells really good," Clarke notes as her eyes slip closed again, lifting her chin to sniff the air around them. "Thanks."
Lexa reaches for the bottle, holding it so Clarke can read the front. "It's called nightblood serum. We carry it if you want to take some home."
"Thanks," Clarke says, glancing up to meet bright green eyes.
Lexa smiles and flips on the blow-dryer, leaving them surrounded by the sounds of the whirring motor.
Ten minutes later Clarke is standing on the other side of the front counter and Lexa is tapping away at the touch screen monitor in front of her. She flips it around to let Clarke leave a tip and swipe her card.
"Thanks," Clarke says rather lamely. "For everything. My hair feels awesome."
"You're welcome, Clarke," Lexa says softly. "I hope to see you again."
"Maybe at The Ark?" Clarke asks hopefully, a lopsided smile tugging at her lips. She really needs to go, but she can't seem to drag herself away from this beautiful stranger.
"Perhaps," Lexa says, one corner of her lip twitching. "Have a good day."
"Thanks, Lexa," Clarke says with a wave. "You too." She turns to leave and smirks, hoping that Lexa finds her phone sooner rather than later. She's perfectly okay with being cell phone-less for the afternoon, but after a few days it might start to make her crazy.
XXXX
Clarke finds herself watching the door later that night. The bar is packed and she finds herself falling into an easy rhythm of pouring drinks. She has a shaker in one hand, shaking absently, her eyes on a group of guys at the end of the bar that she can't quite tell if they are goofing off or getting ready to fight. She catches sight of someone moving into her peripheral and she turns, her heart feels like it's flipping over in her chest.
Lexa.
She takes in one steadying breath. This is the moment she'd hoped for all day. She's on her home turf and it's time for her to turn on the charm, because there is no way she's letting Lexa leave here tonight without getting her number.
"So we meet again," Clarke calls over the noise. She smiles at the two others flanking Lexa.
"Hello, Clarke," Lexa replies. She nods her head at each of her friends. "This is Lincoln and Anya."
"Hello," Lincoln greets with a warm smile.
Anya is watching her with an amused smirk, like she's in on some joke that Clarke certainly isn't privy to. "Hi, Clarke."
"Hey," Clarke greets with a wave. "Let me deliver these and I'll be right back."
Clarke can't help but feel the weight of someone watching her as she moves down the bar to deliver drinks. She collects cash and drops the change in the tip bucket before returning to Lexa's group.
Lexa holds up her phone. "You forgot this earlier."
"My phone!" Clarke exclaims happily. "I totally thought I lost it. Thanks!"
Lexa swallows and nods, a smile tugging at her lips that's only just visible as she dips her chin towards her chest. "Of course."
"What can I get you guys?" Clarke asks with a grin. She leans over to rest both her elbows on the bar in a move she'd learned from Octavia. She knows that standing like this shows off her toned arms and lets her shirt fall away from her skin enough to tease. Then she refuses to look up at Lexa.
"Grey goose and red bull?" Anya replies. Her smirk makes a return, and Clarke can't help but feel like Anya knows exactly what she's up to.
"Sure," Clarke says with a nod. She eyes the other two.
"Um, a Mic Ultra please," Lincoln tells her, eyeing the drink menu and scratching his chin.
"Watching your carbs?" Clarke teases.
Lincoln grins. "I am actually." He flexes playfully. "You never know when it might make some little girl's day to have her hair cut by G.I. Joe."
Clarke bursts out laughing thinking back to the salon. "That was the cutest thing I've ever heard." She shakes her head and looks up at Lexa through her lashes, finding her watching her with bright eyes. "And for you?"
"What would you recommend?" Lexa asks, her eyes narrowing slightly in what almost feels like a challenge.
Clarke smirks. "How about the Griff Stiff?"
"Was that a come on?" Anya snorts, playfully shoving Lexa, who's ears turn a little pink.
"Only if she says yes," Clarke replies, winking at them. She sets expectant eyes on Lexa, who's being carefully watched by her two friends as well. She feels a bubble of warm anticipation swell inside her when Lexa gives her a short nod. "Be right back." She turns and heads down the bar to make the drinks, smiling as she listens to Anya's cackling laughter behind her.
"Oh my God, Griff!"
Clarke jumps and juggles to save a glass from a shattering death on the bar floor when Octavia comes barreling into her. "Geez, O, what?"
"He's here," Octavia breathes, stealing a glance over Clarke's shoulder.
"Who's here?" Clarke asks, going back to making her drinks.
Octavia's eyes are still on the mystery 'he'. "Lincoln. He is so fine."
Clarke glances over her shoulder. "Who, G.I. Joe? Yeah he's here with Lexa."
Suddenly Octavia's eyes snap to Clarke, eyebrows raised. "Who's Lexa?"
"She cut my hair this afternoon," Clarke replies with a shrug. "I told her she should drop by."
"Pouty Green Eyes, you mean? She's staring a hole right through you," Octavia teases, glancing over her shoulder again. "Didn't take her long to take you up on your offer."
"Probably because I 'accidentally' left my cell phone on her table," Clarke admits with a wide, toothy smile.
"Get it, Griff!" Octavia cheers, smacking her playfully on the ass. She takes in Clarke's appearance suddenly. "That explains the outfit I guess."
Clarke simply shrugs innocently, but she knows how good she looks with her jeans slung low on her hips and toned stomach being shown off just enough by her sleeveless, navy mid-drift top. She glances over her shoulder just quick enough to find Lexa averting her eyes.
"I swear; Lincoln has such great hands," Octavia continues. "I'm fairly certain he could make me come just washing my hair."
Clarke wrinkles her nose. "Thanks for that visual."
Octavia glares at her playfully. "I know for a fact that you happen to like that visual."
"Oh my God," Clarke sighs dramatically. "We slept together once, O! And it was years ago. Please let it go."
Octavia winks at her. "Not when I've seen how good you look naked, Griff." She suddenly spots someone coming through the door. "Shit, Raven's here too."
Clarke laughs. "Now what are you gonna do? The girl that makes you see stars on a regular basis, and the guy that can make you come washing your hair both show up on the same night."
Octavia leans over to slide the cooler open and pulls out a few beers, popping the tops off them with practiced ease. "Try to convince Raven to have a threesome?"
Clarke frowned at this. "O…"
Octavia rolled her eyes. "I know, Clarke. We're just really good together. Like off the charts chemistry."
"You're going to break her heart one day," Clarke says softly, turning back to the bar with her hands full. She makes her way back to Lexa's group, narrowly avoiding a collision with Monty, the bar back, in the process. She places the drinks down on the counter and waves away the cash Lexa holds out to her. "First round's on me since you saved me from having to live a phone-less existence."
Lincoln, Anya and Lexa all raise a glass to her for that and thank her more than she deems really necessary. Clarke chats with them for a few minutes, but she spots Raven sitting alone a little further down the bar looking dejected. She excuses herself and makes her way over.
"Rave? You okay?" she asks as she puts a beer on the bar in front of her friend.
Raven smiles sadly. "Hey, Griff. I'm fine." She shrugs. "Octavia is being distance girl tonight."
Clarke's head tilts and she watches her friend with sympathetic eyes. "I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself."
"I can't help it," Raven mumbles, dropping her chin to her hand. She glances down the bar and finds Octavia leaned over, clearly flirting with Lincoln. "It looks like she found someone else to play with tonight. I should go."
"Why don't you stay a while?" Clarke suggests. "People are starting to clear out. You can drink on my tab and then we can go back to my place."
"I'm flattered, Griff, but I'm pretty sure I turned you down the last time you propositioned me," Raven teases with a sad smile.
Clarke's eyes narrow. "Technically Octavia propositioned you that night."
"Yeah, right before you slept with her," Raven points out with a real smile this time.
"Stay," Clarke insists softly, placing a hand over Raven's. She feels better now that she's seen a genuine smile on her friend's face. "Please?"
Raven rolls her eyes and sips her beer. "Fine. But you owe me something much stronger than this."
"You got it."
"Clarke!" a voice calls from down the bar.
She looks up and finds Trent, a regular at The Ark, waving her over. "Duty calls," she says with a shrug.
Around midnight Clarke notices things starting to slow down. There are more people headed out than in, and she does the mental math and figures she'll probably be in bed by 4am.
"Hey, Clarke," Trent calls, shaking her from her thoughts.
She smiles his way, trying to be polite, but he's on his way to being hammered and she knows he's a very sloppy drunk, and he always hits on her once he's past a certain point.
"Hey, Trent," she greets back as cheerfully as she dares. She has to walk a fine line between being polite because he is a regular in her bar, and not encouraging him to think he has a chance with her. Plus, he's a really nice guy when he isn't a total mess.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks with a lazy smile.
Clarke smiles back and shakes her head. "No thanks. Can I call you a cab?"
"Nope," he replies. "You can pour me another drink though."
Clarke isn't sure it's a great idea, but she pours him one more. She suddenly spies Lexa headed her way.
Lexa moves several seats down from Trent and props herself into one of the seats.
"Hi," Clarke greets, a smile sliding over her features. She likes the fact that Lexa and her friends have stuck around, and they've managed to drag Raven over to their table, where she seems to be chatting quietly with Anya.
"Hi." Lexa slides her empty glass over the bar top.
Clarke smiles wider and reaches for the glass. "We actually have someone on staff to grab the empty glasses from the tables."
"I know," Lexa says softly, shrugging one shoulder up. "I just figured I would save them some of the trouble."
"Can I get you another?" Clarke asks. She finds herself completely captivated by this version of Lexa. In the salon she had been the queen of her domain. Very serious and very stoic, only letting the softness seep out on occasion. This version of her was quiet and polite and it actually made Clarke melt.
Lexa seems to mull this over quite seriously for a moment. "Actually, could I get a glass of water please?"
Clarke nods. "Sure."
Clarke busies herself with making the longest-to-make ice water in the history of the bar.
"Bless you," Lexa suddenly says absently. She's been staring at Clarke's hands making her drink.
"What did you say?" Clarke asks, a soft little curious smile on her face.
Lexa looks up, eyes widened, like she suddenly remembers she's in mixed company. "Someone sneezed."
Clarke melts a little more.
"Here you are," she says as she puts the glass of water on the bar, complete with a slice of fruit and tiny pink umbrella.
Lexa blinks at the drink and her eyes cut back to Clarke, who is grinning.
Clarke shrugs. "I thought the little umbrella was so your style."
Suddenly they're both laughing.
The front door opens and Clarke visibly brightens when she sees Bellamy enter. His eyes scan the bar and he grins when he notices her. He uses both hands for leverage as he hoists himself up enough to press a kiss to her cheek over the bar. "Hey, Griff. Hey, Griff's pretty friend."
"Keep your paws off her, Bell," Clarke tells him sternly. "This is Lexa. Want a beer?" She's already reaching into the cooler to pull a bottle out, popping the top quickly and handing it over.
"Thanks," he replies with a smile. He scans the room and suddenly his eyes widen in surprise and his smile turns to a grin. "Linc!"
Lincoln looks up from his conversation with Octavia and recognition floods his features as well.
Clarke watches as they meet in the middle of the bar and do some sort of weird bro hug. They're each gesturing to people they know in the bar.
"Safe to say they know each other," Clarke mutters.
"He's important to you," Lexa says softly, staring down into her glass.
"Bellamy?" Clarke smiles. "He's kind of like my brother. He's Octavia's older brother." She tears her eyes away from the boys to glace over at Lexa, who is watching the guys as well. They watch as Lincoln introduces him to Anya, and Bellamy leans in to press a kiss to Raven's cheek as well.
"It seems our friends get along," Clarke mumbles absently as she watches Octavia make her way over to greet her brother and flirt some more with Lincoln. She watches Raven's eyes trailing Octavia's every move until Anya demands her attention again.
"It would seem so," Lexa says evenly.
"Don't worry, Raven is one of the sweetest people ever," Clarke says, watching Lexa watch Anya and Raven together.
"I believe you," Lexa says, turning back to her. "Have you been friends long?"
"Since college," Clarke says with a shrug. "She's brilliant. She as her degree in engineering but loves working on cars. She has a garage a few blocks away."
"Anya works with me at the salon," Lexa says, smiling in thanks when she realizes what Clarke is doing. "She actually co-owns it. I certainly wouldn't be where I am today without her. Your friend is very safe with her."
"Good to know," Clarke says with a nod.
"Griff!" Harper calls at the other end of the bar. "I need another bottle of Patron."
Clarke stares at Lexa for a moment. "Guess I have to get back to it."
"Of course." Lexa nods and takes her fancy water back to the table.
XXXX
Clarke watches from the end of the bar as Lexa, Anya, Lincoln, Octavia, Bellamy and Raven crowd a table, laughing and talking loudly. She smiles, glad that her friends had welcomed some newcomers with such open arms.
She grabs the last tray of clean glasses and moves towards the back of the bar with them.
"Hey, baby," Trent greets sloppily, grabbing her ass as she walks by.
Clarke glares at him. "Still not interested. And if you grab me again, you'll be thrown out on your ass."
"You say that now," he mumbles, reaching for her again. "Let me buy you a drink, then you might change your mind."
"Pretty sure she said no," a voice cuts in. "And if you grab her again you'll lose your arm."
"And I'm pretty sure you should mind your own business," he sneers at her, reaching once more for Clarke, but Lexa's faster than he is, and she has him spun around and his arm trapped behind his back before he even realizes what's happening.
"You bitch!" he shouts, finally drawing the attention of everyone else, who spring from their seats and rush towards them.
"I told you to keep your hands off her," Lexa growls in his ear.
"Lexa, let him go!" Clarke cries.
"Not until he apologizes," Lexa sneers, tugging his arm a little harder making him sputter out an apology.
Clarke glares at her for a moment before she grabs Trent by the arm and leads him towards the door. She speaks with the bouncer for a moment before she heads back behind the bar.
Lexa stands there staring at her for a moment, noting that Clarke is practically fuming. "Clarke-"
"I had that under control," she interrupts.
Lexa frowns. "I know you did, but it's not in my nature to stand by while someone puts their hands on a woman who has made it clear that they're not interested."
"He's a regular here," Clarke says. "I know him. There was no need to attack him."
"He grabbed you!"
Clarke takes a breath and tries to calm down. She knows Lexa was just trying to help, and she would hate to see this thing between them fizzle out because of a stupid drunk guy. "I know. Thank you for trying to defend my honor, but next time please just let me handle it. Because in this place there's usually a next time."
"Agreed." Lexa's eyes soften at Clarke's words and she nods. "And I'm sorry."
"Good. Thank you," Clarke sighs. "Can I call you guys a cab? It's time to close up."
Lexa shakes her head. "No. I only live a few blocks. Lincoln is going to walk us back to my place and then head home."
"You and Anya?" Clarke says, trying desperately to keep any jealousy out of her voice. She can't figure out their relationship and Lexa has offered next to nothing in the way of explaining it to her.
She clearly fails, because Lexa smirks. "She's my sister."
"Oh." The word falls heavily between them. "You're lucky. It's just me and my mom."
"You're lucky, too," Lexa says, her expression suddenly sort of sad. "Trust me."
Clarke is sort of aching to know more about this beautiful stranger, but nothing else is forthcoming. She feels a sort of panic settle over her then. She'd had a whole plan worked out. Leave her cell phone, forcing beautiful stranger to return it, look hot, be hot and awesome behind the bar, and have beautiful girl ask her out.
Then marry her because she's absolutely perfect and adorable and hot.
Everything had gone according to plan up to the part where she now has to rely on Lexa to take the next step. Now that they're standing here about to say goodbye, she wonders if she should be the one to take the next step.
"Thanks again for bringing my phone back," Clarke says with a smile, looking up through her lashes again.
Lexa smiles softly. "Of course. I have a feeling this won't be the last time you see us here. And thank you for the Griff Stiff."
Clarke snorts. "It's sort of my own creation. Named after me. Griffin. Clarke Griffin."
Lexa nods, seemingly amused by her rambling. "Octavia mentioned that after I ordered a second one."
"I'm sure that's not all she had to say about it," Clarke grumbles, only imagining what else her friends spilled about her.
"Not exactly, no," Lexa agrees with a smile, but she doesn't elaborate. She shuffles her feet. "Do you think you'd like to go out some time? Maybe dinner or coffee?"
Clarke feels a weight lift off her shoulders and she grins. "I'd love to. I'm off Sundays and Mondays."
Lexa smiles. "I am too."
"Perfect," Clarke says. She reaches across the bar and grabs a cocktail napkin, scrawling her name and number on it to hand it over to Lexa. "Call me."
Lexa smiles wider and nods once, turning to the table to watch their friends performing a rousing rendition of We Are the Champions.
Clarke places a hand on Lexa's arm. "I'll have Nyko call a few cabs."
It takes some time, but eventually they get everyone sorted out and everyone decides who's going home with whom. Lincoln ends up with Octavia, and much to Clarke's relief Raven ends up with Anya's number scrawled on her palm. Bellamy and Harper walk out together mumbling something about french fries, and soon it's just Clarke left pulling Raven into her side as she watches Lexa and Anya pull away in the last cab. "Well that was interesting."
"Lexa couldn't take her eyes off you all night," Raven says as Clarke grasps at her hand to pull her back into the bar.
Clarke smiles at this. "She's so pretty, Rave."
"They both are," Raven sighs happily.
"I think we're both in over our heads with those two," Clarke muses.
"You can say that again."
