Hello there and welcome back on board. Enjoy.


Lexa silently cursed for the millionth time for stumbling across the blonde. It had been two hours since she had seen her at the pool and she still couldn't get the image out of her head. 'Why the hell does she have to be there… in that scandalous outfit… with that raised eyebrow…'

"Fuck!" She muttered and dropped the knife onto the cutting board.

"You ok there Chef?" Jasper turned from his station towards her with a concerned look.

"Yeah yeah. Go back to your work." Lexa dismissed him weakly.

"Well, if you need to talk or something?" He offered under his breath whilst returning to his task at hand. Lexa looked at him, considering his words, but in the end she only smiled.

"Thanks Jasper. Kind of you, but I'm good."

She did a full circle to see who was working at the moment and sighed when everyone was busy. She had to finish cutting the vegetables. She needed to start to not involve herself in the preparation work schedule. She cursed again under her breath and picked up the knife once more. "Fucking fuck." She mumbled, but proceeded to cut precise pieces nevertheless.


Clarke had returned to her cabin to shower and change for the evening. She was about to meet up with her new friend Betty whom she had met on her day trip. She was an odd little lady, but kind at heart and Clarke enjoyed their conversations. The journalist had always been fond of listening to older people's life stories. She found it fascinating and at times even inspiring. Betty was such a stimulating soul. She had raised her three kids on her own after her husband decided to just not come home one day. She had never remarried but wasn't exactly a sad creature when it came to love. From what Clarke had gathered throughout her day with the older woman, she must have had quite an overwhelming number of lovers. How this conversation had cropped up, remained unknown to Clarke, but over a whiskey spiked coffee Betty had told her about Louise and Katherine and Samantha. In return, Clarke had offered her tragic little piece about her and Niylah. They had shared a knowing smile and had continued to stroll down the pier, when Betty had stopped them, had turned Clarke towards her and had whispered "Life unfolds itself in mysterious ways. It's always so surprising." She'd smirked and winked as if she had been aware of something Clarke hadn't been privy to. The blonde had looked at her friend for a long second, before equally quietly answering "Well I'm useless when it comes to life." Betty's smile had vanished almost immediately and she'd scolded Clarke for being so pessimistic. She had shrugged it off. "You're right Betty. I'm sorry. I guess I'm not completely useless. You can use me as a bad example." Clarke had laughed and Betty had swatted her off and demanded a change of thinking.

Clarke shook herself out of her daydreaming and finished applying her makeup. She had left her hair loose. It had already adapted the unique, vacation only type of blonde waviness she was never able to recreate once back home. Must be the sun and the chloric water of pools, Clarke mused and stepped out of her cabin to walk up to the restaurant.

"You look beautiful Clarke."

"Thank you Betty. You look pretty too."

They entered the dinner hall, and Betty happily slung her arm through the offered crook of the blonde's own, when they sauntered down the main isle. They were quite a vision in their respective eveningwear and some people even stopped talking to gaze at them. One set of eyes though was more surprised than anyone's at the display in front of her. Her stare followed the unlikely couple to their table, before excusing herself and stepping back into the kitchen. She had a busy night ahead of her and couldn't take time to ponder the possible humanity and warmth of a certain light haired devil, who appeared to be having dinner with an older woman. One, Lexa had seen, had sat alone at her table for the last two days.

"Ok guys. Round two has officially started. Let's get the guests fed." She yelled out and clapped her hands to motivate her kitchen crew for the second wave.


Their dinner had been exceptional, and Clarke had pointed out how skilful and creative and passionate the ensemble had been. They had shared a bottle of wine when Betty had decided to dive into a more sombre conversation. "So Clarke, tell me. How did you end up being a food critic, when your real passion is art?"

"Well, first of all I'd like to think of myself as a journalist." She answered mildly morose. "I just happen to write restaurant reviews at the moment."

Betty smiled and continued. "Why don't you like being called a food critic?"

"It's limiting what I'm capable of. I don't like to be reduced to just that."

"What else do you have to offer?"

"Plenty of things!" She answered a little petulantly.

"Such as?" The older lady probed with a smile.

"Betty, I'm not a published author if that's what you want to hear. I've written for various newspapers, I have a blog and I'm once in a while recruited to write other things than restaurant reviews."

"But?"

"There's no but."

"There's always a but." The older woman smiled at the waiter who refilled their glasses, and returned her intense gaze back to her dinner companion.

"I…" Clarke trailed off when she spotted the now almost familiar form of the cruise chef leaving the kitchen. Betty followed her line of sight and smiled, before nudging Clarke to continue her sentence.

"I don't know what you want me to say." The blonde finished with a defeated smile.

"I know darling. Why didn't you pursue art?" She changed the subject, smiling warmly at the younger woman, who had a pensive look on her face before she schooled them back into an indifferent expression. "Betty, no offense, but can we talk about something else?"

"Sure, what's the deal between you and the brunette over there?"

"The de… What?" Clarke finally focused her full attention back onto her dinner partner. "There's no deal here."

"I beg to differ."

"No really Betty. No deal."

Clarke protested a few more moments, getting more and more flustered until she finally broke out in laughter. "You are unbelievable. Do you always let people dig their own graves?"

"Well, silence makes people talk …" She trailed off with a crooked smile.

Clarke shook her head and finished her wine. "There's nothing."

Betty lifted her glass at the same time and observed the blonde chancing another glance into the general direction of the kitchen. "There's always something my dear." She said quietly and emptied her glass as well. "Now Clarke. Thank you so much. I had a lovely evening with you and I apologise if I've crossed some lines."

"It was my pleasure Betty really, and you didn't. I'm just not as good at talking about myself." Clarke smiled warmly and put her palm over weathered hands, interlaced with each other, over the tablecloth.

"You're a good soul." Betty smiled. "You want to meet again tomorrow?" Hopeful eyes scanned the younger woman's face. "I promise no prodding." She held up her hands, palms facing the blonde. Clarke laughed and answered with a sincere smile "Of course."

"I'm looking forward to it. It's Antigua. I've heard beautiful stories about it with as many beaches as days a year and lush undisturbed nature." The older woman babbled excitingly.

"Yes me too. Do you want me to escort you to your cabin?"

"No my dear. Have a drink at the club. Go dancing. I'm ok."

"Maybe." She thought of Octavia and Raven and wondered if they were there tonight.

"Well whatever you end up doing, have a nice night my dear."

"Rest well Betty."

They stood up and Clarke leaned forward to press a small kiss on the older woman's cheek, who smiled brightly, before waving goodbye and walking off. Clarke sat down for another moment, reminiscing about the conversation and old memories Betty's questions had brought up. She hadn't not pursued art. She had tried, but had failed. No one had been interested in her paintings, but her invoices had had to be paid anyway. She had hit rock bottom a year after finishing her art degree, had lived on the street for a few days before crawling back to her mother, who had made her study 'something valuable'. She had always been interested in journalism, and so Clarke found enjoying her second round of college. Now she had a BA in Art History and a BS in Communication, but she still had the feeling of having achieved nothing in her 30 years of life. Nothing to show; nothing to prove her worth. Betty had been lovely, but her interrogation had hit a nerve deep within Clarke's fragile self-esteem and the slightest inclination of dancing had been killed to its core. She emptied the wine bottle into her glass and turned her face to look out of the window into the blackness of the night.


When Lexa had finished her part of the night, she had stepped out of her kitchen again, and had let her gaze wander over the few patrons left. Her eyes fell almost instinctively onto the puzzling couple she had been wondering about all night.

For someone so ruthless and cold, she almost found herself completely thrown off-guard witnessing a selfless and warm version of the same woman. She had made the older lady laugh and had been invested fully in their conversation. She seemed interested and engaged and completely different to what Lexa had thought about her. This made her even madder at the blonde. How dare she be anything other than expected? How dare she be interesting?

"Wait. What?" Lexa whispered to herself, sweeping her eyes over the hall, checking if someone had been aware of her words, but almost immediately let her gaze flitter back to realise the blonde was alone now, and her facial expression was somewhat distanced and sullen. Before Lexa could do anything really stupid she turned and finally locked the kitchen doors, signalling the waiters to finish up as well. The last guests were kindly asked to leave, and she watched Monty grinning at something the journalist had said. Clarke stood up and smiled too, but when her eyes met green once across the room, the smile vanished and the beautiful face turned away. Lexa scolded herself internally for feeling saddened by the action, and couldn't stop wondering about the mystery in front of her. 'Who are you Clarke Griffin?'


The next day came way too early for Clarke and she groaned at her mobile blaring 'Kill Everybody' at her. She needed to change her alarm tone she mused, but stood up nevertheless. She had a busy day again, and she kept repeating like mantra "You're only here because of work." It made it slightly easier to get up and going, when all her body wanted was years of sleep and tons of alcohol.

She had been in a rather bad mood after Betty had left. Clarke had had a difficult time falling asleep after her trip down memory lane. She had thought about all her stupid little dreams she had had and how none of them had come true. With 30 she had thought she would be living in a nice house, with a nice garden and a nice dog. She'd thought she would have been married. The thought of marriage brought back memories of Niylah and their caring, soothing, loving relationship. She had been a wonderful partner, whom she had cared for deeply. They had separated when Niylah had had to move to the other side of the country to take over the store of her father. Clarke hadn't been able to follow, because she had just accepted the job at the newspaper. They both had known that their love wouldn't survive a long distance relationship. She still missed her though. She missed the warmth and intimacy. She missed knowing she wasn't alone. Clarke had sighed for the millionth time and had closed her eyes, and an intense pair of green eyes had invaded her tired senses and had bored into her sleepy mind. Her last conscious thought had been one of Betty's questions. 'What's the deal between you and the brunette?' She had no idea.

"Clarke? How are you my dear?"

She hadn't realised, she'd left her room and had walked all the way up to the dining hall, which had been converted to offer breakfast. Betty had spotted her as soon as she had walked through the door. "I secured us a table at the window again."

"Good morning Betty." Clarke managed, shaking her troublesome thoughts off. "I'm fine thank you. How are you?" She sat down and ordered a coffee to start the day.

This was their usual routine since they had met on the second day. They would meet up in the morning and share breakfast, get ready for their day trip to another exceptionally beautiful Caribbean Island and finish the day with dinner. It was a nice pattern, which allowed Clarke time to actually make progress on her work. She had to deliver her review shortly after returning from the trip. The last few days she'd been to Antigua, St. Lucia and Barbados. She'd enjoyed white sandy beaches, had explored banana valleys and rainforests and learned 400 years of history. All in all, she'd been mentally and physically occupied with stunning places. In the evenings she had been indulged with incredible food. The more various dinners she'd enjoyed the clearer it had become how exceptionally unfortunate her timing had been to pick Lexa's restaurant the evening she'd visited.

A sudden sense of sadness took over and she sighed. Clarke leaned against the railing, watching the never-ending expanse of the ocean spread out to the horizon. They had a day at sea, a so called 'cruising day' and she had had participated in more stupid games within the last 3 hours than ever before. She had started to hate her life more than ever. She was in a paradise, paid to see everything this gigantic ship had to offer, but all she did was wonder about 'if's' and 'maybe's' and the wellbeing of a brunette she hadn't seen at all. Clarke had concluded that either Lexa was either extremely busy, which, considering all the incredible food offered on board almost all day long, was most likely the reason or the cook was actively avoiding her. "You're pathetic." She whispered to herself shaking her head to emphasize her words. She had to get whatever effect the brunette had on her out of her system and that as quickly as possible. "Get your shit together Griffin." She added after a moment and decided she needed a good workout right about now or else she'd go nuts.

She arrived at the gym half an hour later, stepping into the bright, airy room with a confident smile.

"Hello there." Octavia greeted her immediately. "You haven't been back to the bar. How are you? Enjoying the cruise, I hope?"

"I am. It's an incredible place to be." Clarke returned the smile and added for clarification, "the ship and the Caribbean Islands".

"Been here often, but I still find it beautiful." Octavia agreed and Clarke walked towards an unoccupied treadmill. "Do I have to sign anywhere that I'm healthy or do I just use it?"

"You're very fit looking, I assume, you'll be alright." Octavia threw over her shoulder, retrieving a towel from the rack a few feet away, leaving Clarke to blush upon the compliment. She returned with a smirk, offering the cloth with a wink.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." She added for good measure.

Clarke finally laughed and shook her head. "Thanks, I guess."

"So, there's a 'cruising day party' tonight at the Club Twenty. You going?"

"What's special about it?" Clarke clipped the emergency string onto her loose shirt and started the program.

"Nothing really, it's just a party to take minds off being miles out on the ocean with no land in sight for hours."

"Wow, you make me feel so safe." Clarke laughed. "I might show up then."

"Cool. Be awesome. Raven and I will be there. Come look for us, if you want some company."

"Sure thanks Octavia."

The trainer left her to her own devices. Clarke finished an hour later, drenched in sweat but ultimately feeling much better. Any confusing thoughts about the cook had been pushed back on her list of things to think about. "I'm off. See you later." She called out to Octavia, who had joined her halfway through her run and they had shared some more personal information. She had the feeling she could be great friends with this woman. Octavia sent her a wave and a thumbs up, before walking behind the counter to towel herself off.


"So Clarke. What have you been up to today? I had an incredibly lazy day at the pool side watching the kids club. You know, they are so creative with the children. It was so nice to see." Betty leaned forward in her chair eyeing her blonde companion over the wine glass.

"Oh, nothing much. I was forced to participate in a couple of games myself. I don't really know what people like about charades and trivial pursuits."

"It's probably just to amuse them? I take it you didn't feel entertained?"

"Not really." Clarke smiled, but it froze on her face, when she spotted Lexa leaving the kitchen. She followed her with her eyes and saw a couple of guests stopping her and no doubt complimenting the food. 'Hell, even she would be complimenting her if Lexa wasn't so adamant on hating her opinion.'

"My dear, are you alright?" Betty interrupted her musing the moment Lexa's gaze fell onto Clarke and a smug smile appeared on the cook's face, before she walked back into the kitchen. Clarke quickly turned back and nodded to the older woman. "Yes, I am. So, after watching the kids did you do anything else?" Betty watched her a moment longer, before answering. "Well, I have been in the pool, but it felt weird to be in water on water. I had a superb lunch though. Do you think it's the same cook who is responsible for the evening food?"

"Um, I don't know." Clarke blinked a few times and furrowed her brows. 'Is Lexa responsible for all courses all day long?'

"I see. Well why don't we ask?" She said and Clarke's eyes widened at the insinuation of the question. Before she could change Betty's mind, the older woman had flanked down Monty.

"Hello son, I was wondering if you could ask the talented cook to stop by our table? I'd like to ask something."

"Sure Ma'am. Right away." Monty smiled and quickly walked over to the kitchen.

"Betty? What are you doing?" Clarke hissed, panicking slightly.

"What do you mean?" She answered calmly, sipping her wine. Clarke looked over to the kitchen, when the door opened and Monty walked out with Lexa, pointing in her direction.

"Well you know… the brunette from the other day?" Betty smiled but didn't react, so Clarke pressed on. "She's the cook." She said when Lexa was only a few feet away.

"Oh, I know darling." Betty replied and turned towards the chef. "Hello my dear. I wanted to tell you how incredibly good your food is. I have been thoroughly enjoying each dinner so far."

Lexa eyed Clarke suspiciously, but the blonde avoided her gaze and stared into her wine glass. She turned to the other woman and smiled sincerely. "Well, thank you so much for saying that. I do want you to immerse in the variety of what Caribbean food has to offer."

"And you do it so well. Tell me darling are you responsible for all the food preparations on board?"

"I am to a degree." Lexa relaxed and uncrossed her arms. "All kitchen teams sit down in the morning and I brief them on the daily menu. As you might have experienced, we have a standard menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner and only two to three dishes which vary on a daily basis." The cook explained, completely focused on her conversational partner.

"And you're the one who creates all those specials?" Betty asked in awe and Clarke turned towards the brunette, interested in the answer as well.

"I do." Lexa replied, and to Clarke's utter surprise, paired her proud statement with a bashful smile and the blonde wondered if the cook could be any more beautiful if she tried.

"That's impressive. Isn't it Clarke? Don't you want to say something as well? I mean, you are a professional connoisseur, aren't you?" Clarke blushed and looked from Betty to Lexa, who had turned to her for the first time, since approaching the table, and back to Betty, before clearing her throat. "I've already told Ms Woods how incredible her food creations are."

"Oh you know each other?" Betty asked, faking surprise.

"We crossed paths." Lexa answered. "Thank you Ms Griffin." She turned back to Betty. "Can I offer you a dessert?"

"Oh my dear, that sounds lovely. Doesn't it Clarke?"

"Yes, lovely indeed."

Lexa smiled and nodded and with a last glance and a blinding smile she turned to get them their last course.

"Was that necessary?" Clarke breathed out once Lexa was out of earshot. "That was so embarrassing."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when I told you about not well received food critiques?" Betty nodded and Clarke continued. "Yeah well… Ms Woods here is one of those cooks who hates me because of an unfortunate article."

"Oh." Betty said but smiled. "I'm sure she's not one to hold grudges for too long. Have you spoken about it?"

"Betty, please. Have you seen her? She's probably the queen of 'grudge-holding'. Her beautiful green eyes were so fierce and her perfect stance conveyed the arrogance of someone who knows how great they are in what they're doing. No way, she won't resent me for the rest of my life." Clarke scoffed and emptied her glass with one big gulp.

"Mm, I see." Betty mumbled and glanced back at the kitchen entrance. "I wonder what the dessert is." She looked back at Clarke with a childlike expression, making the blonde smile warmly and forgiving her for the awkward situation she had put her in just moments ago.

"You'll find out in a second." She said and pointed to Monty, who approached them with two narrow glasses of something covered with a generous amount of whipped cream and a sprinkles of chocolate on top.

"Butterfinger Brownie Trifle, courtesy of the chef." Monty explained and placed the luscious looking sweet in front of them. There was no doubt that Lexa had quickly created them specially, as they were not on the menu. To Clarke's chagrin, it was just as perfect as everything else the blonde had ingested on board so far. 'Damn you and your perfection Lexa Woods.'

They finished their dinner and Clarke guided Betty out of the restaurant and walked with her along the railing. The sky was dark and clear and a million stars shone brightly on the natural canvass.

"This is beautiful." Clarke whispered.

"For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream."

"Aaah, Van Gogh, how poetic Betty."

"Mmm, I thought you'd appreciate it. What are you doing now?"

"Well, I was invited to the party at the nightclub. You want to come too?"

Betty thought about it for a moment and finally nodded. "Sure, I could use something stronger."

They headed over to the club and after searching for a few minutes Clarke spotted Octavia and Raven at the left side of the bar.

"Hi there." She greeted shyly, unsure if her presence would be as well received as Octavia had made out earlier in the day.

"Hi! Clarke right?" Raven turned towards her and smiled brightly. "O told me you would come by."

"Yeah, this is Betty." Clarke gestured to her company.

"Hi Betty." Raven offered and pointed to the bar. "What can I get you two beautiful ladies?"

"Whatever you're having."

"You sure?"

Clarke smiled and Betty grinned naughtily. "Hit us up with what you've got."

To the surprise of all the younger people, Betty had quite the stamina and held her alcohol just as well. They danced and drank and talked and danced some more. Two hours into the party Clarke witnessed Lexa sitting at the bar on the other side in casual black jeans and a tight shirt and cursed under her breath for finding her hot. She willed her eyes away from the brunette when Betty announced her night had ended and she would leave now. They bit their farewell and agreed on their usual breakfast time, as they were to visit Bonaire the next day. Betty left the group, which had launched into another round of shots, and walked quickly back to the bar and waved down a bartender.

"Hello. Yes um, can you bring a shot of the liquor the group over there is drinking to the blonde, and tell her it's from the brunette?" She said pointing to Lexa.

The man looked at her quizzically but shrugged it off. "Sure."

She paid for the drink and finally left the club. If the two weren't talking by now, she was sure her little mingling would instigate a conversation.

Clarke looked up in surprise when the bartender pushed the shot towards her and said what Betty had told him to say. The blonde nodded and accepted the drink, whilst turning towards Lexa, remembering how she had brushed her invitation for a drink off just a few nights ago. She couldn't quite see her from where she was sat, but shrugged it off.

"Why is Lexa buying you a drink?" Octavia asked in surprise, recalling Clarke telling her about their problem.

"I don't know. Maybe to apologise?"

"For what? I thought you had pissed her off?" Raven joined in, putting her arm over her girlfriend.

"It was a professional assessment of the food and atmosphere on one particular evening. I did not piss her off on purpose. I didn't even know her." Clarke defended herself.

"So… she offered you a drink just like that?"

Three heads turned again to the brunette, who had coincidentally looked into their general direction as well.

"Well, talk to her?" Raven said finally and gestured to the other side of the bar. Clarke looked at the shot and then back over at Lexa, who was still watching them. She breathed in deeply, squared her shoulders and slowly walked towards her.

"Hi." She said and pointed to the stool next to the brunette. "May I?"

"If you must…"

"Um." Clarke furrowed her brows at the animosity. "I just came over to thank you for the drink."

"I didn't buy any drink." Lexa answered irritatingly.

"Yes you did, and before you say anything else, I'm actually glad you did. I think we're grown up enough to get over things like bad timing and awful days. Thanks for making the first step."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. And for the record, I have not made any steps." Clarke looked at her just as confused and a wave of anger at the stubbornness of the other woman seeped through her. "Oh ok. That's how you wanna play it?"

"I didn't realise we started playing."

"Why did you buy me a drink if you don't want to start over?"

"Again, I haven't bought you any drink."

"And what is this?" Clarke held up her hand.

"Um, this Ms Griffin is a common shot glass, made of silica and used for liquids to avoid having people putting their filthy mouths around bottles to enjoy their contents." She explained slowly as if Clarke was a child and they were discussing Einstein's theory of relativity. When the blonde kept silently glaring at her, Lexa continued with a bored voice. "Why on earth would I buy you a drink anyway," she said, before her facial expression changed as if a light bulb in her head had gone off. "Oh now I get it." She stood up to use their small height difference to her advantage. "Are you trying to get me fired? Again?"

"What?" Clarke exclaimed surprised.

"Hitting on me." She said simply. "Insinuating I bought you a drink, making it look like something is happening between us, knowing damn well, that staff are not allowed to have a personnel relationship with guests." Lexa spat out.

Clarke growled and slammed the glass down onto the counter, the liquid sloshed and spilled, as she stood to square of to Lexa. "Have you taken a class in college on 'how to asshole' or are you just a bitch in general? Whatever game you're playing here, I'm out." She turned and left the club in the straightest line possible, leaving a very confused Lexa behind.

"What the fuck?"

She turned to the voice and found Costia leaning against the bar and looking at her with her mouth open in astonishment, before moving to clean the spillage.

"Yeah, you can say that again." Lexa huffed and emptied her beer. 'What the fuck?'


Indeed - WTF? Mm, has Betty made it even worse now? Will Clarke find out it had been Betty and not a wicked game of Lexa? Will Lexa learn it had been Betty and not an attempt of Clarke to make her life even worse? Aaaaah... this is mad.

On another note - thanks for your feedback guys. It's so so appreciated. Thanks!

And a big thanks to my girlfriend who helped me quite a bit as I ran into a small writer's block within the chapter. Love you.

No idea when I'll update again, I hope soon. Also, I'll update 'Love At First Flight' within the next 48 hours. Sorry for the delay.

Cheers and have a nice Sunday/Monday wherever you are. J