John Murphy was terrible to all the inmates. Notable for harassment, a big figure in the drug trade, known provider of weapons, and overall a total douche. He had just enough charm to keep on the mask of a halfway decent guard and to keep him from losing his job. It was time to pull away that mask and win something for her girls.

The tricky part was, how could she prove all this to Lexa without getting the girls in trouble as well? The question plagued her mind and kept her distracted throughout the day.

"Hey boss." Zoe Monroe called to her, hurrying down the hall with a mop and pail. "Guards are looking for you." The nice thing about working the janitorial job was the relative freedom they had to roam the halls as long as they had a mop or a broom in hand. Luckily, half of her so called 'gang' held the same work detail as her. It certainly proved helpful in orchestrating the riot a few days before. Monroe still had a gash on her head from the incident but it didn't seem to bother her.

Clarke tensed. She searched Monroe's face for answers, "what the hell do they want?" For a moment she thought that maybe they had found something on her, which would be bad. Very bad, like doubling her sentence and sending her to solitary bad. Then she remembered. It was Thursday. It was time for her meeting with Lexa. "Right." She muttered. Clarke handed Monroe the broom she held. "It's nothing to worry about. Thanks for letting me know."

Monroe nodded and continued on past her. It was a good thing she had a whole network of girls looking out for her. If Monroe hadn't reminded her, she would have forgotten and had to have had a CO after her for 'failure to comply' or something. The last thing she wanted was to get in trouble for something so stupid right after getting off scot-free for something so major. It was embarrassing.

She remembered how to Lexa's office and dipped into the stairwell to avoid the CO Monroe warned her about. Clarke needed to show the Warden that she was responsible, a good partner. Show up on time, earn some brownie points. If Lexa respected her, then she'd be that much more likely to follow through on her promises.

Before she turned down the hall to the Warden's office, Clarke looked over herself. Her hair was an impossible mess. She wore a sweat shirt over her uniform, but it probably only made her look sloppier than she already was. She tried smoothing out a few creases and wiping off a few spills and stains, but it didn't help much. Fuck it. What did it matter? What was she, trying to impress her? This wasn't a job interview, Lexa already knew she was in prison.

Clarke gave up on that brief endeavor and continued on. Lexa's office had a few large windows where she could see almost the entire room. The brunette was sitting at her desk, eyes locked on to her computer screen. She was wearing glasses today and her hair was up. This was probably a 'sloppy' day for her, but Lexa still looked almost regal. Clarke rapped a knuckle on the glass to get her attention and waved when the woman looked up.

Lexa looked indifferent, but smiled politely and waved her in. "You're late."

"I forgot what day it was," she admitted and moved over to stand by the armchair on the other side of her desk.

"How did you get here?" Lexa asked. Her tone was sharp, but she seemed more curious than anything else. "You were supposed to have someone escort you."

This area of the third floor was supposed to be accessed only by using keycards, but it was well known that a few of the stairwells led to unlocked doors. Well, well known among the inmates at least. It had been used during the riot to get ahold of things people could use as weapons. She could play the fool here, but it would only result in her getting in trouble. "The southwest stairs are always unlocked."

Lexa set her jaw and nodded. Grabbed a post-it, jotted it down and stuck it to the computer screen. Locks not working in a prison was kind of a big deal, but she was going to wait to address it until this meeting was over.

"I don't have anything for you yet. I'll go so you can get to that right away." Clarke turned to leave.

"Sit." Lexa's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Or stand, if you like. As I said before, you'll have your talks with me now."

"I don't really do the counseling thing." Clarke turned back, but didn't make any motion to sit down or return towards the desk.

"Who said anything about counseling?"

Clarke curiously looked over Lexa. She was impossible to read. Clarke hesitated, but sat down. At the very least, she was interested. "Okay then, what do we talk about?"

Lexa gave a simple answer, "whatever you want."

Clarke frowned. "Sounds like counseling." She was a little frustrated with herself. She should have left already or simply not have said anything like she had with Anya, her previous counselor. There was something about Lexa that kept her feeling on edge rather than off it and she couldn't place what it was.

"Are you always so distrustful Clarke?"

"Are you always this nosy?" She shot back, not expecting an answer. She tapped her fingers on the armrest. If this 'talk' kept going like this she was going to leave for real.

"No," Lexa responded, "I usually keep more to myself."

Clarke shifted in her seat. Lexa's oddly honest answer threw her off. She wasn't entirely buying it. Of course she was trying the tactic of opening u a little first to encourage it in her. Still, her voice was soft very unlike the warden that put a stop to the riot a few nights before with simply her words and commanding tone.

So, who was the warden? Clarke had Anya pegged down as soon as she stepped into her office. It had been decked out in memorabilia of her favorite sports teams, but never spoke about them in front of the inmates or came across as excited about them. She had a framed and signed picture of a post-it note with IT's number on it showing both that she was awful at technology and actually had a sense of humor and comradery among her coworkers, something Clarke never saw in person as she was only shown the serious side of her. When it came to Lexa, there was next to no personal affects in her office, no one saw her outside of it and those who did were simply terrified of her, and she seemed weirdly young for this position.

So what did she know? Lexa was smart, driven, and kept to herself. She had two photographs framed on the mantle behind her. One showed Lexa in a CO's uniform standing next to Anya who, judging from the lazy arm around her shoulder and the clear annoyance on Lexa's face, might have been above her in ranking. The other showed her among a group of kids. The only other personal item was a framed diploma on the wall, the date recent.

"When did you get this job?" Clarke asked, "As warden?"

"I was promoted a little over two months ago," Lexa said, "Why do you ask?"

"I thought that if you're as committed as you say you are to fix this place, it wouldn't make sense that you were the one to run it into the ground. That and," She added, "I've heard the girls refer to you as 'the new warden'."

"'As committed as I say I am'" Lexa repeated.

"You're the one who said I'm distrusting."

Her session with the warden actually went well. Sort of. They more or less talked around things rather than about anything or especially about herself. This was what she would prefer of course to any actual talks. No one needed to know her business other than her.

Now that that was out of the way until next Tuesday, there was time to form a plan of action. She went from Lexa's office down to the cafeteria for dinner, their meeting cut shot at the aggressive growling from her stomach. Clarke was not used to this new meal plan.

She arrived early and took a seat at her usual table, enjoying the silence. After a while the table filled. Octavia helped Raven over, who now sported a wheelchair and a sour expression, followed shortly by Harper and Monroe. The only two missing were Gina who was still injured in medical and Maya who worked kitchens.

"The people in charge are watching things carefully since the other night," Clarke reported, "there's a chance we could get rid of you-know-who."

"I don't care what we do I'm in." Raven said, "He's the reason I'm in this chair. 'Accident' my ass," she mumbled. Octavia nodded in agreement.

"We'll have to be smart about it," Clarke warned, "watching carefully means they're watching us too. We'll meet tomorrow after shift change, the usual spot. Let's get everyone there."