2016, Lexa.

The steady hum of traffic below her office had always been soothing to Lexa, a constant noise that had both the ability to block out any other thoughts and soothe her instantly. Double windows opened into her office slightly and caused the blinds to clack each time a hint of a breeze worked its way into the building, but the noise was a small sacrifice for the cooling air on the back of her neck. Living and working in Seattle was fun, sure, but Lexa spent most of it inside her office and while it was spacious and modern and light; it still held the heat of the summers and air conditioning only sufficed for so long.

Part of her missed the beach, the warm air on her cheeks and sand between her toes but Lexa stopped those thoughts before her toes curled around an imaginary feeling. Summer with Costia had been fleeting, a romance built on desperation and pain and guilt. Costia had bore all of Lexa's hardships, she'd soothed her, stroked her hair, managed to relight the passion in Lexa that had been quenched by tears and lie-soaked words. But Costia had never been fated to Lexa forever; she was Lexa's guide, a guiding beacon that had managed to salvage the pure part of her that Lexa was sure had been lost.

And yet -

If she was so pure then why was she alone in the city she grew up in?

Green eyes moved around her office as she took it in. For two years this had been her sanctuary and she noted the lack of pictures. Besides the pull-out bed in the corner of the room, a bed that had been used more than the one in her own apartment, Lexa would have guessed a stranger would have claimed this office to be unused. Despite the organisation that screamed her personality in waves-"A messy room leads to a messy mind, Alexandria."-Lexa could forgive a person for not knowing who this room belonged to, despite its extensive use, and she wondered-briefly-what Clarke and her messy personality would think of it.

"Not enough you, Lexa. Not enough us."

Distracted by her own thoughts, and irritated at herself, Lexa had to wonder where all of these memories were coming from. Costia, Clarke, eleven year old girls confused by moving vans and popping gum. Months had passed and while she'd be a liar if she said she never thought of Clarke, Lexa had managed to survive and built her own world without the rambunctious blonde who had taken over her formative years with adventures and smiles and painted hands that lingered a little too long.

"The minutes you asked for," pulled her from her thoughts and the brunette looked up in time to see Lincoln walking into the room, his tie loosened slightly in the heat of the office and Lexa let it pass this once. While normally she'd ask for perfection, and she almost always received it, her mind was elsewhere and it was too warm to argue logistics of tight clothing and professional wear. "And I need your input on the new development upstate. The budget may need to be pulled back slightly, an overspend here could lose out in the future. I have the financial department working on it but I'll need to run it by you before we make any permanent decisions."

Lexa nodded slowly, the heat of dread slowly filling her as a reminder of the previous times she'd made such a decision, and she raised her hand at Lincoln slowly. "I trust you to make the right choice," she nodded, lips pressing together tightly as she thought of Clarke and her anger and her resentment. It had been two years and still.

Despite dusk falling the steady roar of traffic continued and Lexa stood at the now closed windows as she looked down towards it. It was only really just hitting seven in the evening and she knew the roads would be filled with commuters and students and people willing to get home to their families for the next hour. Her apartment, only a few blocks East from here, was easy to get to and yet she made to move to leave. In her left hand, curled towards her collarbone, Lexa held a tumbler of whiskey that she had been nursing since her 'office hours' had closed. She didn't particularly like the drink but Lincoln had bought it her on the day of her promotion and it had sat in the cupboard, aging, while she worked.

Once more it was that male who interrupted her thoughts with a quiet, "Lexa?" at her door. She turned, the balls of her feet burning slightly from her heels and being stood in the same position for a while. Lincoln had long since lost his tie, his shirt unbuttoned further, and he rubbed at the growing stubble on his chin. For a moment Lexa almost didn't recognise him as her Lincoln, her best friend, her ally in her darkest time and instead saw him as an overworked co-worker who Lexa distanced herself from. In the past Lincoln would have walked in, sat on her desk and touched her belongings but now-God now-he was hesitating and mumbling and she almost closed her eyes.

Had she really changed that much?

"Yes Lincoln?"

The man stood mute for a moment before he audibly sighed, opening the door further and stepping inside. Lexa watched him carefully, the cool glass still pressed against her collarbone, and she ignored the concerned look he gave to it. "I'm done for the evening," he told her and Lexa felt her brows furrow in confusion. As her lead architect Lincoln was aware that as long as his projects were finished on time, within budget and he was making a profit then Lexa was lenient about his office hours. He was, and still remained to her, her most loyal worker and she simply nodded at his left-fielded comment.

"Thank you."

Another sigh before he continued, "Octavia is planning a night together," and it was there Lexa managed to catch his hesitation. She lifted her chin, neck inclining slightly, and her lips pursed in a dare for him to continue. "And since it's Raven's birthday she asked me to invite everyone. You included. It's a surprise, or as much as a surprise it can be with Octavia planning and Raven investigating."

Lexa blinked slowly before shaking her head, her jaw catching on the cool rim of the glass in her hand and she distracted herself by placing it down. "I appreciate your invite, Lincoln, and please extend that courtesy to Octavia but I'll have to pass on this particular opportunity," she told him, gaze directed at the deep mahogany of her desk. "I'm aware of Raven's birthday also. Indra sent her a birthday package to be delivered for this evening."

There was a long pause, long enough for Lexa to have thought Lincoln had left the room, and she looked up to see him looking at her. His face, as always, remained neutral and she forced her own into a blank reply as she waited for him. "You can't avoid her forever," he finally settled on. "We're all adults and if you're not careful you're going to distance yourself enough from us all that all you'll be left with is that glass of whiskey and these four walls."

And yes, Lexa appreciated blunt, concise opinions but her eyes narrowed at her friend as she listened to his unwelcome input. No reply came and Lincoln nodded, an unamused sigh escaping his nose before he swiftly moved across the office. Lexa stood solid, her palms pressed tight to the table, and she only lightly moved to lean into the kiss he pressed to her temple.

"I'll see you Monday."

She didn't look up until her heated handprints had faded from the desk in front of her.

2016, Clarke.

The bar was heady and loud and everything Clarke imagined being inside one would feel like. Well, she'd been inside more than one but now she was legal it felt five times more fun and one hundred times more intoxicating. That could have had something to do with Gustus, the owner of the bar they frequented as teenagers, watering down the alcohol content and watching in amusement as the group got 'drunk'. Clarke smiled at the memory, smiled as the large man would pass them their drinks and find ways to make them laugh. She smiled at the memory of taking Lexa there for the first time, at the image of her face being pulled into one of distrust and then melting as Gustus placed a glass down in front of her gently and lowered his voice to less of a boom for her.

Clarke smiled and then let the moment pass.

Lifting the wine to her lips, and trying to not be surprised at the acidic taste it left on her empty stomach, Clarke tried to not listen into the conversation happening next to her. It was hard, Octavia didn't really know the meaning of whispering and she always had a habit of gaining an excited lilt when she was speaking to Lincoln. Not that Clarke could blame her, Lincoln was something of an Adonis among their group and even she felt her heart gasp slightly when he lifted her into his arms or sent her a smile that would serve to put most Prince Charming's out of service.

Lincoln made Octavia light, and Clarke liked that, but she could tell that the conversation was anything but. There were several "Did you even try?" sighs and a few "No, it's okay. Raven won't mind," mumbles that had caught Clarke's attention. The blonde was well aware of how hard Octavia had planned this night for Raven, how she'd Facebook stalked their entire group of childhood friends to ensure everybody was in attendance, and she thought it best to sit back and let the woman keep her control. College had separated most of them, Clarke staying in Seattle for her Art Degree, and Octavia staying too just 'because'. Raven had headed to Massachusetts for Engineering and Bellamy, with Finn, had moved to Florida. And Lexa had -

Well Lexa hadn't left the city, but she had left them.

The group had broken up and Abby had warned Clarke of it, let her know that some friendships would be tested, but she hadn't been aware of how hard it would be once everyone moved. They all met back up in the holidays and, of course, everything fell back into place but it was hard and bringing them all back together to celebrate Raven's birthday had been even harder; but when Octavia wanted something, Clarke knew not to get in her way.

"God she's impossible," Octavia groaned, her phone now on the table and her hand occupied with the vodka soda she'd ordered earlier. Clarke turned to her, confusion etched on her face, and waited for the girl to continue.

She didn't and Clarke resigned herself to asking, "Who is impossible?"

"Lexa."

Her heart jumped at the same time Octavia clearly realised her mistake.

"I mean, she was going to keep Lincoln working late but he managed to push through," she reassured, the lie tinging her ears pink and Clarke felt too sick to call her out on it. Lincoln was the last person Lexa would ever force to work late, especially if she knew what was planned for the evening, and the low heat that settled in her stomach turned into a harsh tug in her chest. She knew Octavia would have extended the invite to the fourth girl on the group, would have asked her to come because she knew what Lexa meant to Raven and the group when she'd been good. What she'd meant to Clarke. "What a bitch."

"Yeah," Clarke breathed out. "A bitch."

(Raven, bless her, had acted utterly surprised when she walked into the building to find everyone together and for a moment Clarke forgot that Octavia had invited Lexa and Lexa had said no.)

When three a.m hit Clarke was in bed, far less sober than she wanted to be but far less drunk than Octavia and their guest for the week. She could heart the slight banging, the muttered curses, the giggles as Octavia and Raven fumbled about in the kitchen to find food but Clarke hadn't been as enthusiastic to mix Poptarts and Cheerios together and had retired to bed.

Her eyes remained open in the blue-gray of her bedroom and she thought back onto the night; thought back onto Bellamy scooping her into a hug and whispering a quick "How you holding up, Princess?" into her ear; thought about the look Octavia gave Lincoln as he sat down and avoided eye contact with Clarke; thought about how Raven asked where Lexa was a little too loudly and then flinched when the group had murmured a series of rehearsed lies about working late and how she sent her love instead.

Thought about how Lexa was probably somewhere, alone, holding a glass up and whispering 'Happy Birthday' to nobody. Because Lexa was loyal and she wouldn't have forgotten.

But Clarke can't be mad. Lexa had done this to herself, she had brought this isolation on herself and Clarke wasn't going to feel sorry for her.

Pressing her teeth into her lower lip, and cursing herself for being weak, Clarke reached below her pillow and ignored Lexa's teenaged voice in her head as she whispered, "Isn't keeping your phone, your electronic device, so close to your head going to give you some kind of brain malfunction?"

"No Lexa," she'd always reply with a smile. "And anyway, you'd still love me even if it did." But she'd move her phone and she'd settle back into a warm body and an 'I told you so'.

Swallowing hard, and attempting to not sound needy, Clarke fired off a text to the only person she knew would be honest with her and waited for the reply. She could have come, Clarke argued in her mind, she could have come for Raven.

[To Lincoln, 03:12am]: Did Octavia ask you to ask her?
[From Lincoln, 03:12am]: Yes.
[To Lincoln, 03:14am]: And she said no, right?
[From Lincoln, 03:20am]: She's working hard, Clarke. She would have been there if she could. Goodnight.

(And Clarke had to wonder; why was everyone suddenly lying to protect her when she hadn't been the one to break apart a heart?)

NOTES: So I know the pace of this seems rather slow and non-verbal but there are a few reasons for that. One, I wanted to really get into the characters minds and be able to flesh them out and write them since I'm still getting used to them. And Two, everything needs to be set up for things to be explained completely and for them to eventually make sense.

There are a few hints throughout this chapter that allude to what happened between them if that helps.

Hopefully you're enjoying it regardless of the slow pace.