Clarke swayed happily to the music pumping in her ears. She was finally here, glass in hand, excitement tumbling through her veins. It had taken them longer than she had anticipated to get ready, though in retrospect having lived with Octavia for the past three years she shouldn't be surprised at all. She had been co-conspirator to many an ingenious plan to get the girl to conform to the concept of a deadline, including but not limited to: setting all the clocks forward half an hour to no effect – it appeared Octavia was supremely unfazed by extreme tardiness, fake phone calls of cancelled reservations – not even so much as a bat of an eyelash because "fuck them we'll go somewhere else", even just informing the girl that an event started an hour before it actually did begin was met with a shrug. Clarke was actually impressed they had managed to make it to the party before midnight, it definitely counted as a success, though with Raven firmly driving them forward all night she wasn't too terribly shocked. They had had drinks in the apartment before leaving, of course, together belting out feel-good hits in between several shots, hunting down a mischievous heel and reassuring Octavia that, no you definitely don't need any more eye make-up, you look fine. No, not fine! Great! You look foxy as fuck!

Tequila running merrily through her blood, Clarke was just happy to let Raven take Octavia's reins for once. She was unusually high-strung, her Raven. The mistress of casual was, for some reason, very intent on getting to this party, and though Clarke wasn't sure she would ever actually find out the reason why, when Raven harboured a secret she took extra special care of it, she was on the lookout for any clues. Admittedly, so far she was doing a less than stand-up job. Raven had disappeared into the crowd a little over twenty minutes ago to "find some booze". It took Clarke and Octavia less than three minutes to find said booze. Clarke shrugged to herself, content to leave her detective work until later and nudged into Octavia who, to Clarke's delight, immediately began dancing along with her.

Yes, this was it. This was where Clarke liked to be. Drunk and free, dancing and laughing with her best friends. No cares to worry about tonight. Though, she was sure, to everyone else it seemed as though her lifestyle was just as untroubled as she let on, this was far from the truth. The façade she poured so much energy into was more fragile than ever. The beginning had been easy. Get lost in drink, drop out of college, have plenty of sex – just what the doctor ordered. To be honest, no one had really expected much more from her. How could they? Blow after blow in such a short space of time. Between her father's untimely passing and Finn's cheating, a girl was entitled to a little bit of fun, right? If she were entirely honest with herself she might just admit that the horror of losing her father had been so devastating upon her life that she was glad for the excuse to leave Finn.

Octavia and Raven had been on her side, more so than her mother, not that she sought much comfort there. They had held her as she cried, replaced the coffee table they had burned Finn's picture over after it had caught fire and even drank to any and every occasion with her. Their support was unfailing. Until she had dropped out of college, and perhaps their disapproval was the best support they could muster but they just didn't understand.

If they had known what she was ultimately signing herself up for, the constant unfailing bright lights, the smell of sterile rooms, the hopelessness of waiting areas. It was a prison and it trapped her in her moment of heartache more than any jail ever could. How could she continue when that was all that awaited her future. Still, they let her be, voicing their opinion of mistakes being made no more after the second week. She never told them that she just didn't want to continue forward into her own worst nightmare.

She had hidden this part of her grief from them for her own reasons. Legitimate reasons. It was painful to talk about, giving this part of her life up. She had enjoyed it, and to have it tainted was not something she would gladly open up for discussion. She wasn't sure she could even untangle the situation. It was a mass inside her chest, malignant and toxic and painful to touch upon. It grew the more she didn't talk about it and maybe it wouldn't if she had spoken about it to begin with, but she hadn't and now she couldn't. And maybe if she had spoken about it in the beginning it might be easier to admit to them, and to herself, that the feeling of dissatisfaction with her choice was getting harder to drown. Growing ever stronger than tequila and vodka.

But not tonight, tonight was reserved for Octavia and Raven and this feeling of freedom that she craved, that was becoming increasingly illusive and giving way to the weight inside her chest. She caught onto Octavia's hip with her free hand and swayed in time with her, throwing her head back for a deep belly laugh. Octavia caught her eye, a shining smile upon her lips and winked. She turned in Clarke's grasp and ground into her front on the make-shift dance floor. It was the living area of the house, the sofas had been pushed back to line the walls and the TV had obviously been removed. A clever move. The room was packed. Nothing precious would survive this gathering of questionable decisions.

After one too many elbows to the ribs and more than enough boys casually brushing up against her ass Clarke downed her drink. She needed a reason to get off this dance floor. "Let's go, I'm empty," she mumbled into Octavia's ear. Octavia nodded and followed her down the hallway, past sweaty singles taking a break from the living room and salacious couples plotting their next move when she was roughly tugged the opposite direction.

"Did you just see that?!" Octavia hissed at her.

"See what?" Clarke asked, darting her eyes around. She didn't see anything worth attending to.

"That fine specimen of a human who just went downstairs," Octavia proclaimed tugging her in the direction of the stairs.

Clarke tugged back. "But I'm empty."

"There's alcohol downstairs," Octavia assured.

Clarke frowned, mumbling, "how could you possibly know that?" But followed her friend anyway.

"Because they've set the games up downstairs!" She grew excited as they approached the stairs and quickly descended.

It was a little too quick for Clarke's inebriated taste. She wasn't completely trashed by any means, more merry than anything having built up quite a tolerance over the past year, but she had also learned not to test herself unnecessarily. Stairs were unnecessary when the kitchen would more than have done for her alcohol needs, but when Octavia saw something she liked there was no holding her back.

"There!" Octavia whispered, stopping abruptly and stumbling slightly as Clarke bumped into her.

Clarke scanned the room, letting Octavia lead her to the table piled with alcohol in the corner. There were several drinking games happening, each seemingly around a table. A circular table surrounded by people picking cards was set up closest to them, Clarke immediately recognised the game from a frat party she had attended few months before. It had been fun, but was a very fast way to get fucked up. It was a good game, but she'd be avoiding it this time round. There was a beer pong table set up in the centre of the room. A couple of games of shots happening on the counters that lined the farthest wall. Clarke glanced back at Octavia before following her line of sight and gasped. Standing, leaning against the counter, was the object of Octavia's affections. The man was admittedly beautiful, and he seemed to be staring right back at Octavia with a grin so she was perhaps not entirely far-fetched in pursuing him down the stairs. Standing next to him, however, was a girl that pulled Clarke up short.

Lexa.

What was Lexa doing here? Clarke mentally rolled her eyes at herself, she was obviously here for a party, any idiot could deduce that. Harder to explain though was the nerves that tingled in her belly. Where those came from Clarke had no idea. This was the first time she had ever seen Lexa outside of work and while she had seen her naked more times than she could count in the past four months, it was rather appealing for her to find her in skinny jeans and a button down shirt. She looked in her direction at a mummer from the man beside her and met Clarke's eye. Startled, she automatically returned the small wave Clarke offered, and Clarke watched as her eyes too made an assessment. Clarke was glad she had decided on the semi-casual red dress she wore. Red was her colour, and this dress was just her cut too. She chided herself then, because what was she doing? Hoping to impress Lexa? She and Lexa had an arrangement, and it did not include anything outside of the four walls of Arkadia, impressive or otherwise.

"Do you know him?!" Octavia accused in her ear, not taking her eyes from the muscular man.

"No," Clarke turned to her friend, "I know her, that's Lexa."

Octavia turned to her friend finally, "are you serious? Work-time-fun-time Lexa?" She grinned mischievously.

"The very one."

"Hey they're talking to Raven!"

Clarke watched, wide-eyed, as Raven navigated her way through the crowed to reach them after a brief moment speaking with Lexa and her friend.

"Raven," Clarke began, confused, "do you know them? Lexa and her friend?" As far as she was aware none of her friends knew Lexa.

"I know them through a friend, she's outside at the moment with a girl who can't hold her liquor. Only just met them tonight to be honest, they seem cool. You, my friend," she winked at Octavia, "have made a good impression." Clarke watched out of the corner of her eye as Lexa frantically spoke into the man's ear. Clarke felt the stirrings of a bad situation in her belly. Something was happening. "You have been formally challenged to beer pong."

Clarke sniggered, glad it was Octavia and not herself.

"You too Blondie, team beer pong. You two against Lincoln and Lexa." Raven smirked knowingly.

Clarke gulped, suddenly parched. The butterflies in her belly seemed to ignite.

"Let's make this interesting," Octavia surged forward before Clarke could stop her and her heart seized inside her chest.

She caught up with Octavia in time for the deal to be made.

"Well let's see," Lincoln drawled, "if we win we get a kiss."

Clarke met Lexa's eye, who opened her mouth to protest but was inevitably interrupted by Octavia. "Done. And if we win," she tapped her chin under the pretence of pondering, "we earn ourselves slaves for the night."

Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

"Uhh-" Lexa began.

"Done."

"Lincoln!"

"Terms have been set!" Raven interjected, "let's everyone make their way over to the beer pong table!" She promptly shooed another duo who had intended on using the table out of their way.

Now Clarke wasn't the best beer pong player in the world, she could admit, but she wasn't the worst either, and Octavia was a force to be reckoned with. And while she might be slightly drunk, she was by no means inebriated beyond comprehension and she knew very well they had scored themselves the better end of this deal. She was excited for this and looked up to find Lexa's eyes and giggled. She giggled at Lexa,who just shook her head and threw her half a smirk and her butterflies went wild.

Lexa took her place beside Lincoln who was busy making eyes at the dark haired girl across from him. "Lincoln, I understand that you're very much in lust right now and it's almost impossible for you to process seventy-five percent of what people say to you when you get like this but I will not be Clarke Griffin's slave. Got it?"

"What?" Lincoln mumbled.

"Lincoln!" Lexa's heart hammered in her chest.

"I'm kidding Lex, don't worry," Lincoln laughed. "As appealing as the idea of being a slave to that woman is, I have your back."

Lexa let out a relieved breath, "thank you."

"Let's kick ass," Lincoln winked at her and held out a fist.

She met the fist with her own and turned to raise a challenging eyebrow to Clarke. Clarke, who was looking absolutely unbelievable tonight. She outshone almost everyone in the room. It appeared it was all or nothing for the girl. A party was a party, even if it was just Lincoln's house. In hindsight Lexa could have made more of an effort, but how was she to know Clarke would be here? Not that it should really matter, but now that she thought about it she had probably not approached this night as casual drinks with her team mates. She had foolishly assumed it would be a low-key affair. A true mistake, and an unforgivable one. Nothing Lincoln ever did was half-hearted. Thankfully the party was split almost down the middle with people who had assumed casual and those who had spruced up a bit.

This game wouldn't last long, she was sure. She and Lincoln had it in the bag. Their accuracy was flawless and Lincoln was a tank. He could probably drink the entire table dry and only have a slight buzz, which Lexa was thankful for. She could hold her alcohol with the best of them but it had been a while since she had drank and she wasn't sure how much of this cheap beer she could handle without feeling ill. It wouldn't stop her though, she was nothing if not determined.

The first player was determined upon Raven's coin toss and Clarke's exclamation of heads. It was tails and Lexa was given the honours of the initial throw. She decided to start off small and went for the simple bounce throw, she'd leave the more impressive shots to Lincoln. As predicted she had no trouble in landing the first shot dead centre in the first cup. Clarke's brow knitted together in concern as she reached for the cup and she shared a glance with Octavia. Octavia smirked in reassurance and Clarke turned to tip the cup in Lexa's direction.

Octavia sank her ball too, to Lincoln's bark of laughter. Lexa grinned at her friend. It was nice to see Lincoln happy. He sometimes seemed troubled, lost within himself, and though he was always happy and friendly in the presence of Lexa and their friends, the breaks he had in between his solemn moments were a joy to experience. He drank his drink and once again the ball flew through the air and sank into one of the opposite cups. Octavia's smile died on her lips and her jaw set she drank and handed the ball to Clarke. Clarke missed and Lexa watched a fire ignite in her friend's eyes.

The game went on, intense and fast. Clarke and her friend, Octavia she thought she'd heard the girl been called by Raven, were good. They were very good.

But they weren't good enough. Lincoln and herself managed to best them by a small margin, much to Lexa's relief. Raven's booming voice proclaimed them the winners and Lincoln stood to collect his prize. The girl didn't seem too put out to have lost in the end, happy sinking into the kiss amidst cheers from the small crowd who had gathered to watch. Lexa shuffled awkwardly in Clarke's direction, who for all her confidence and bluster didn't seem to terribly adept at navigating this situation herself. She nodded toward the stairs in the hopes that she could perhaps escape the watchful eyes of drunken college students for their kiss but Raven had begun a chant that quickly caught on with their audience, "kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…"

Clarke rolled her eyes and Lexa resigned herself, surging forward and pulling Clarke's lips to her own with a hand on the back of her neck. Their lips met and it was soft and perfect. No tongue or heavy breathing, as was their usual, but sweet and slow. And it ignited something inside Lexa's chest that she'd rather push away but it felt good so she kissed Clarke and shut out the world. She felt Clarke's arms encircle her waist and she sank into her warmth and let it snake its way inside her. Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason Clarke Griffin's kiss seemed to be the focus of her night, as if was entirely leading up to this.

Cat calls and whistles broke them apart. Embarrassed Lexa looked down at the floor and ran her foot over a scuff. She felt Clarke pull her hand and she let herself be led up the stairs and into the kitchen where she busied herself making drinks for them while Clarke's eyes bore into the back of her head. She couldn't explain why but she was speechless. She'd long kept her feelings locked up, but the truth was that maybe just a little part of her wasn't as strictly casual about Clarke as she led herself to believe. And that was certainly the alcohol thinking because she will deny it at the soonest possible sober moment. She caught Clarke's eye as she passed her vodka coke and Clarke was smirking. Of course she was, back to her confident self.

"I was hoping you'd be my slave," Clarke mumbled, hooking her finger through one of Lexa's belt loops and pulling her forward into her personal space.

"Were you now?" Lexa took a sip of her drink, a little strong but she could handle it.

"Yep," Clarke popped the P, glancing down to her lips, "though the kiss was a good consolation prize."

Lexa chuckled and nodded and leaned forward for another.

"Clarke!"

Lexa stopped short and frowned, of course they wouldn't be alone for long.

"No," Clarke groaned. Lexa stepped away from her and raised an eyebrow at the interruption.

"I was hoping you'd be here," the boy said.

"I was hoping you wouldn't be," Clarke shot back.

Drama. Lexa didn't do drama. She stepped away but Clarke slipped a hand into hers, preventing her escape. It was perhaps the most intimate thing she had ever done and Lexa felt a blush creep up her neck, thankful that the boy demanded Clarke's attention in that moment.

"Clarke, can we talk?" He glanced down at their linked fingers.

"Umm," Clarke pondered, "no."

Something was happening here, or had happened here, Lexa expertly deduced. Something that was making Clarke uncomfortable. Lexa felt a defensiveness settle in her stomach, a feeling that usually gets her into trouble.

"Please, I'm sorry," the boy's eyes bled sincerity.

"She said no. Take a hint," Lexa spat, spurned on by the feeling bubbling in her belly.

"And you are..?" He threw a dirty look her way, and fuck if provoking Lexa wasn't the stupidest thing the boy could do.

Lexa laughed, long and nasty. "I'm Lexa. Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Clarke's boyfriend," he spat.

"Ex!" Clarke assured narrowing her eyes at the boy, "we've been broken up for almost a year, Finn, you need to stop calling me that."

"Clarke-" Finn began, reaching for her hand.

Lexa instinctively pulled Clarke away, "let's go, Clarke, his hair is upsetting me."

"Hey fuck you, who do you think you are? I'm speaking to Clarke not you." Finn moved to block their way.

Anger churned in Lexa's belly, some of it, she'll admit, a little irrational. This was really Clarke's business, not hers. She wasn't entirely sure why she was getting so involved any way. If she were truly intent on keeping to her no drama rule she'd just leave and let them hash whatever it was between them out. But there was something in the way Clarke clung to her hand, as if she were borrowing strength for this encounter, and Lexa would rather she saved both of them the hassle rather than just herself.

"You're not speaking to me Finn, and I'm not speaking to you either. I'm sure there's plenty of girls who'd like to talk to you tonight."

Lexa snorted.

Clarke giggled at her.

Lexa felt her anger uncoil slightly. She put her glass down and grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter. She'd replace it tomorrow for Lincoln. She caught Clarke's eye and nodded toward the door. Clarke smiled and followed her.

"Wait!" Finn blocked them, shooting wicked glances Lexa's way.

"No. I'm having fun tonight Finn, I'm not doing this again. If you want to speak to me please refer back to every single conversation we've had in the past ten months and you'll find your answer somewhere in there. Nothing's changed. I've not changed. I doubt you have changed. I'm leaving."

Finn gritted his teeth and moved of the way.

"Let's go to my place," Clarke grinned at her, and Lexa felt nervous because this was entirely new territory for them. They had never so much as had a conversation outside of work. It felt as if they were playing by entirely new rules now.

:)