I'm loving the reviews! Every one of them encourages me to write another chapter.
I wrote this listening to Juanes: A Dios Le Pido.
"Look who it is!?" A small brunette with olive skin walks towards them, Clarke think's her limp is only noticeable because Lexa mentioned it earlier. Her arms are open and her hands wave Lexa in. As the crowd turns towards the two figures standing just outside of the cement dance floor in almost unison they yell "Header!" Lexa throws her hands in the air reeling in the crowd's welcome.
Raven crashes into her for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She turns her attention to Clarke, "Are you the one who stole my birthday twin? Raven Reyes." Her hand outstretched towards Clarke.
"Are you the one who loves old trucks? Clarke Griffin. I've got a 1987 Chevy Silverado that needs a new fuel pump."
"1987? I might have a fuel pump for you." As they talk more about the truck Raven leads them towards the cooler.
The dance floor is a cement slab flanked by a pair of blue car lifts, large speakers sit on top of each of the posts, from each of the four yellow arms reaching out into the night for each other hangs yellow utility lights with different colored bulbs. About 20 bodies pulsate to the driving rhythm of the music on the slab. Another 20 linger in the shadows, tables and chairs pushed into clusters, red and yellow plastic cups litter every surface.
Lexa trails behind Raven and Clarke because every few seconds a new person runs up to her hugging, landing a kiss on her cheek, and wishing her a happy birthday. They all ask about her birthday date, some asking where Clarke is from and how they met.
When the receiving line of kisses and hugs starts to die down Lexa looks up the DJ, an exchange of head nods introduces a familiar guitar riff blaring through the speakers. The birthday girl throws her leather jacket off her shoulders, her hips and shoulders start to tick to the beat as she slips her hand into Clarke's and leads her bombshell to the center of the crowded dance floor.
Lexa's body starts driving in earnest to the beat, grabbing each of Clarke's hands and pulling them to her shoulders, then wrapping her own around Clarke's waist. The dancing horde shout "A dios le pido." in all the right places. Lexa leads them into the intricate turns and twists of this and the following dozen cumbias. With each song Clarke loses her inhibitions more. Her body relaxes into the sensual yet innocent act of dancing. Trying to remember the last time she danced like this, like the person she was with was the only one for miles, like the music was playing just for them. Laughing loudly and discarding her inhibitions completely Clarke slid her hot palm on a sweaty neck, and pulled Lexa in for a kiss. It was sexy and it was new in a familiar way, and like at the restaurant the day before she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.
Clarke's dance moves come back from hibernation with surprising ease. Each song loosening her hips, back more than the last. The October night's chill not doing enough to cool their bodies, sweat builds down the back of her shirt and drips along the ridge her neck. Every time Lexa reaches down and wraps Clarke tight for a turn the heat coming off her tan skin makes makes Clarke hungry for her. When Lexa leans her face on her, pressing her forehead down to feel the heat coming off her bombshell Clarke kisses the salty drips from her jaw and neck. Holding on tight with a hand on her strong shoulder. When the Shakira songs ends abruptly, Clarke grabs Lexa's forearms asking for a break.
"You move better than I expected Clarke Griffin."
Still breathing heavy, Clarke reaches into the cooler and pulls a beer out, "The night is full of discovery, birthday girl." She draws long and hard from the cool liquid. When she comes up for air Lexa grabs the bottle and finishes it's content.
"Where did you learn to dance like that?"
"Where did you?"
"That is how we dance in Argentina. We call it cumbia. Your turn."
"My dad worked for the state department, we lived in Colombia, Costa Rica, Brazil. Octavia, the friend I moved here with, her mom did the same work as my dad, so we were always stationed together. She's my oldest friend."
"Is she your ex?"
Clarke let's out a sharp laugh, "No, her brother is." Lexa raise both eyebrows and pulls the corners of her mouth down. "Is that a problem?"
"Not for me bombshell."
"Actually, Octavia and I did kiss one time."
"Oh?"
"On a dare, before I started dating her brother, I was about 15. She said I kissed like I was frowning."
"Let's see?" Lexa lands a flurry soft kisses on her lips as they open into a smile, "Nope, no frown."
"How about now?" Clarke pulled her in close and gave her a proper kiss.
"Did you kiss her like that?" Clarke shakes her head. "Ok good, we'd better go back, I'm starting to want to unwrap you again." Clarke nods and they are off to twist and turn around each other on the cement slab.
Their bodies are hot and their sweat is blending together in seconds. After the second song Clarke feels a sudden and unwelcome male form pressing on her from behind. She pushes him off with an elbow to the ribs, "My priapism is back Blonde." Gus is grabbing at her arms, trying to dance with her. She pries his hands off her arms and Lexa intervees with a well placed right cross that lays Gus out on the slab.
"Hijo de tu puta madre!" She's shaking the pain from her red knuckles. The three other guys from earlier that day swoop in, pick him up and carrying him off to a nearby chair. "Llevenselo a la cama!" One of them looks back at her, talks his friends into removing Gus from the party completely.
"I'm so sorry Lexa, happy birthday." Lincoln calls back over his shoulder as his friends carry the limp Gus to the car. As she watches them leave, two thin red lines of blood make their way to her fingertips and drip on the cement.
After they leave she puts her knuckles in her mouth, and when she feels the small hand on her back she turns her attention to Clarke. She leans down close touching her lips to the blonde's ear so as not to shout "Are you ok? I'm sorry, he's such an asshole." Clarke nods and when Lexa straightens back up wipes at the blood on her lip from her bloodied knuckles. She grabs her good left hand and starts leading her back to the coolers in search of ice.
"Ever since I took his position on the team, he is always looking to get on top of me." Realizing the poor choice of her words she tries again, "You know, like, be better than me." Clarke nods in agreement still looking for a towel that clean enough to wrap on on the bleeding hand.
"Que paso!? Prima!" Raven's voice cuts through the sound of the driving dance beat. "Ese Gustavo es un pelotudo. How is her hand? Are you some kind of doctor?"
Raven hands her a clean towel from inside, reaches in a cooler for a bottle of water to pour over Lexa's hand. The still worked up Lexa flops on to a nearby chair while her hand is examined in the relative dark of the back yard.
"I'm a paramedic."
Raven nods and leans into a different cooler fishing out a beer for Lexa. "Tranquilizate." and looks back at Clarke.
"I can't see anything, it's too dark out here." In a second Raven has a spotlight shining from her phone down on Lexa's hand. Clarke turns surprised to see it's source and then back down to the dripping hand. "That's better, thanks Raven. Let's go to the truck, I can clean it, and stitch it up out there."
Lowering the tailgate again for Lexa to sit on and jumping up to the bed pulling her still unorganized kit from the toolbox Clarke is in caretaker mode. She digs through it trying to find all of the necessary pieces, she starts to ramble for the first time since meeting Lexa. She's suddenly nervous and embarrassed about not being ready. "I'm usually very organized. I had to switch bags today and now I don't know. Where. Anything. Is." She draws out her words as she lays out what she was able to find on a clean towel. She snaps latex gloves on, and extends her left palm.
Lexa complies and only allows herself the curl of her fingers and a biting on her bottom lip in reaction to alcohol and then iodine on her cut. "Sorry, I don't have anything or the pain." Lexa shrugs. "You're pretty tough huh? Do you get banged up a lot?" Lexa nods Clarke was hoping for typical long winded story, she's nervous about the pain that she's about to inflict. "Bring your knee up? And put your hand here. Try to keep it straight." She starts to weave a thin black thread pulling at the loose skin on Lexa's hand that's been skin split into three dashes. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Some people say it helps if they don't look."
When Clarke ties her last knot and looks up from her stitches to see how Lexa is doing. She finds a calm expression, green eyes almost glowing under the streetlamp, looking at her with wonder and the paramedic bombshell has to work a little harder at breathing. When she's done and Lexa's hand has a little rectangle of gauze neatly taped to her hand, she turns the hand and kisses the palm. Looking back up to Lexa's eyes, "Charming and tough, I don't know...we might have to reenact another american film classic."
"Let's reenact Spanish classic next. A Room in Rome?"
"Charming, tough, relentless." Clarke kisses Lexa's bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood still fresh on her mouth, "Good kisser," she moves her face down to Lexa's neck, running her nose on her skin the whole way, "Smells like vanilla, and dancing, and flowers."
"What is this list for?" She takes another swig of her beer.
"Nothing, I just like making lists and counting things." She kisses the space just below Lexa's collarbone. Then straightens out and Lexa leans to greet the parted lips.
Lexa's lips are hot but her mouth is cold from the last sip. She reaches up to feel Lexa's jaw working on kissing her and realizes she is still wearing her latex gloves. "Sorry."
Lexa reaches up and plays with a strand of blonde hair as Clarke takes her gloves off, "I should put all of this away," She is not used to being looked at with wonder, and hunger, the attention makes her feel excited and like a meal all at the same time. She folds all of the bloody bits into the towel and places the whole thing in a gallon size zip top bag.
"May I take you home birthday girl?"
"I am home, unless you mean to yours. Then yes."
Lexa jumps off the tailgate and leans her chest against Clarke's back who is still fussing with her bag. Leans back into her, "More dancing?" she shakes her head. Lexa catches the hair off Clarke's left shoulder with a single finger, exposing her neck and ear. She kisses the newly discovered skin softly, and puts the small ear in her mouth, biting and licking it. A low and raspy moan bubbles up from the blonde beneath her. Turning her head up and back, catching the back of the birthday girl's head in her left hand pulling her down for a kiss. Clarke turns her body in the space between Lexa's hips and the tailgate as the kiss intensifies.
When Clarke drove off and left Lexa standing in the middle of the street it was nearly 4 in the morning. Her feet ached from the dancing, her lips were raw from kissing. She ran a fingertip over her lips and remembered Lexa leaning in through the window and kissing her with such intensity that her hands and feet went numb and her she nearly stalled the already running truck. Now Lexa was a little black line under the street light, in her rearview mirror. She was still standing in the street when Clarke reached a stop sign and turned trying to figure out how to get home.