Bargaining For More

by sassymajesty

Follow up to Paying For Love. "Despite working in the industry I do, being married to my work isn't a good enough life for these people. I need someone who can act a certain way, convince people of what I need to sell, and I do believe you're the best candidate. If you're interested, that is." "So, you want, um... the girlfriend experience."

7. Chapter 6

DECEMBER 24TH

Lexa feels warm - not stiflingly so, but there's a warmth surrounding her and pulling her back to sleep.

She grips to the edges of her consciousness, which is a barely-there thing to begin with, and fights to keep herself in that sweet, suspended state between dream and reality that never felt this good before. She blinks against the sleepy haze clinging at her and she can't quite remember the last time she's been this comfortable in bed - maybe back when she was a child and both her parents tucked her in after a long summer day playing outside with her brother.

Keeping her eyes open for longer than a moment is almost torture but Lexa frowns, confused by how the light hits unfamiliar sheets at an odd angle. She's nearly falling back asleep when she catches sight of a drawn on wall, a paint stained desk and succulents littering its top - oh. yes, that's right.

She's spent the night at Clarke's.

The memories wash over her and she lets her eyes fall closed again, lets the images come to her like a flood - her reaching over to swipe pasta sauce from Clarke's cheek, the blonde's giggling as Lexa accidentally tickles her while trying to get the remote, their ankles intertwining as they brushed their teeth in the tiny bathroom, how Lexa fell into Clarke's waiting arms and fell asleep almost instantly.

Shifting in her almost useless attempt to keep herself awake, Lexa feels arms tightening around her waist. She smiles - despite all the tossing and turning Clarke does the entire freaking night, she's found her way back to Lexa. She pays attention to pressure points and her smiles widens. Clarke has one leg edged between Lexa's, the other thrown over her hip, firmly trapping her in place as her arms circle her middle, squeezing her ribs every now and then.

Lexa untangles one of her arms from Clarke's koala hug and searches for the blonde's hand, tracing odd patterns on her forearm as she trails down. Lexa is circling the blonde's protubing wrist bone, drawing something akin to a flower around it, when the hand under hers turn, palm up and inviting.

She slides her fingers in between Clarke's, smiling wide when the blonde squeezes her fingers once. "Good morning," Lexa's voice is heavy with sleep and she lets her eyes fall closed again, lets the warmth emanating from Clarke pull at her without putting up any fights.

Clarke hums her approval and nuzzles further into Lexa's neck, despite her brown curls lying everywhere. "Morning, beautiful," her voice is low and breaking with sleep and when she places a kiss at the nape of her, Lexa doesn't even try to mask her shiver.

She turns in Clarke's arms with more difficulty and complaint noises than she anticipated - Clarke's embrace is fierce, she had clearly been very comfortable in this position. With some effort, Lexa lies on her side, facing Clarke, who somehow has already managed to cling to her again. Their legs lie intertwined as the blonde rests her hand on her hips, and Lexa gazes at Clarke, watching how the soft morning light plays on her face - her hair shines and her blonde eyelashes almost disappear under the bright light, her fair skin displaying the lightest shade of pink.

If there's anything that Lexa might like better than a stark naked Clarke, is a Clarke clad in an oversized pajama shirt and flannel pants that don't match.

Suddenly, Lexa wishes she could take another picture, immortalize this moment as well, capture how serene Clarke looks in that moment - she knows she won't have another chance to look at her like this, that this is the last time they allow themselves this.

Instead, she traces the lines of her face, from her temple to her cheekbones to her jawline. Clarke smiles under her touch and shifts closer, tugs her tighter - as if she knows as well.

It feels like stealing happiness from tomorrow.

"Clarke?" Lexa whispers, wondering if she had fallen back asleep. Clarke looks peaceful, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips as Lexa traces her neck until she meets her collarbone and then all the way back to her cheeks. She could live in this moment and never get tired of it. Clarke hums, sleep clearly being the first thing in her mind, and snuggles closer, using Lexa's bicep as a makeshift pillow. The sight almost makes her choke back her words, but she powers through the molten lead in her stomach, "I've realized that, well, we haven't left each other's side in almost three days."

Her voice is a barely there whisper, but it's clear that Clarke heard her when sleepy blue eyes meet hers, "Huh, I guess that's true." Clarke blinks, probably trying to wake herself up, and Lexa wonders if she can feel her heart pounding in her chest when she lies against her arm once more, "Does that bother you?"

Clarke doesn't look up at her to meet her eyes and Lexa can tell she hurt her - or at least, that that was the last thing she was expecting as pillow talk. Lexa shakes her head vehemently, sure that Clarke can feel her movements, "No! Not at all. I thought I should bring it up because we've agreed upon different terms and I was wondering if I should-" she half regrets bringing it up at all, wants to keep them both under the spell that they've managed to cast on their relationship, "Well, if we should change the figure we've discussed to something more appropriate."

She keeps her gaze focused on the wall behind Clarke, even when the blonde draws back to look at her, cracking only one eye open, an amused glint coloring her features, "Is that you asking me in lawyer talk if you should give me more money?" She says it as it is and Lexa blushes in shame. But what they're having is more than what she paid for, the business woman in her ached to settle her debts, so she nods, once. Clarke is quick to snort and cuddle back, burying her face on Lexa's neck, "Nope, we're good. With cuddles like yours, I could do this for free."

Nodding again, Lexa draws a deep breath and lets it out slowly. They're good - Clarke's words.

Her heart is beating almost painfully against her ribcage, as if Clarke's words had set it wild after being caged for a lifetime. Lexa blinks and tries to calm her pounding heart, more so she doesn't scare Clarke than anything else. She doesn't want to think about the implications of her words, about what it could mean - she doesn't want to get her hopes up. Lexa nods once more, swallowing thickly before deciding to push it aside until she was alone and could scrutinize every intonation in every word. But for now, she'll just let herself be.

With that out of her mind, she can once again shut her brain to anything that isn't the gorgeous woman burying herself further into her embrace. Lexa lets the arm Clarke is lying on bend only enough so she can draw the pads of her fingers across Clarke's back, smiling when the blonde hums appreciatively. Lexa closes her eyes when Clarke slides her hand under her shirt, scratching at the skin before running her fingertips across it, alternating between going up her back and tracing down her stomach.

Lexa tangles her fingers in blonde curls, sets her chin on top of Clarke's head, keeping her closer, and rakes her nails lightly at her scalp before running her fingers down her hair's length, twirling it in her index finger, only to do it all over again.

Sleep finally wins their battle and Lexa gladly gives in, cuddling closer, adjusting their intertwined legs so no limb goes numb. She's at the brink of falling back asleep when Clarke mumbles something against her chest, her shirt muffling her words. Lexa hums a question and Clarke draws back slightly, sleep clinging to her as well, and repeats herself, "What time is the thing?"

Lexa sighs and blinks herself back awake, the prospect of actually talking words making her wanting to bury herself further into the pillow, "Four." Her voice is heavy and she clears her throat before forcing the words out, "My mom asked us to be there around four, four thirty this afternoon."

Rolling away from her embrace, Clarke stretches, drawing her hands well up above her hands and tipping her toes down, and lets out a squeaky sound that Lexa finds absolutely adorable. Lexa props herself up on her elbow, realizing a change in position would be the best way to keep herself alert, and watches Clarke moving.

The blonde rolls further until she's on her stomach and can reach her phone resting on her nightstand, frowning at it when the bright screen lights up and almost blinds her, "So, we've got a good seven hours to kill until then."

It dawns on Lexa that she should go home and leave Clarke to rest - she might say she's fine with spending so much time together when she's aching for time alone. Lexa gnaws on her bottom lip for a moment before blurting out, "Yes- I- Should I go? I could wait in my hotel room, I have to go through the cases for January, and I can't really work on the contract for yesterday's clients without my computer." She babbles fast, trying to convince herself that spending the day working alone will be good for her as Clarke bluntly ignores her and searches for her charger, plugging her phone in before turning to look at Lexa, "Besides, I'm sure you have a lot to do today and-"

Clarke shuts her up with a kiss. Lexa hadn't even noticed Clarke moving with how caught up she was with her argument and it takes her a feel moments to relax and kiss the blonde back. She lets her hand fall on Clarke's thigh as the blonde leans on her palm to support her weight as she leans over Lexa and deepens the kiss.

They pull apart a moment later, a blush creeping over Clarke's fair skin that doesn't go unnoticed, and she sits a bit straighter, smiling sincerely at the pretty lawyer wearing her pajamas, "I have a perfectly good working computer you can use, wifi if you need it and chargers for your iPad and phone." Lexa knits her eyebrows together, trying to make sense of Clarke's words in between the haze their kiss left her with, "The only thing I plan on doing today is spoiling you with homemade food."

Lexa blinks. There's a heavy lull in their conversation as Lexa brings herself to a half seated position, mirroring Clarke's with her feet tucked under her thighs, propping herself up on her hand to stay at eye level, and lets her head tilt in more of a disbelieving gesture than confusion, "Are you- asking me to stay?"

Clarke holds her gaze for a long moment and Lexa can see a different kind of warmth in those baby blue eyes that look absolutely ridiculous in this light. Once again, she wants to ask for Clarke to stay still as she captures the moment in a picture, maybe a close up of long eyelashes perfectly framing the blue hues in her eyes.

Moving her gaze downwards and focusing on a crease in the sheets, playing with it and trying to smooth it out, Clarke half shrugs and bite down on her lower lip. "I am," she whispers, doubt lacing her tone, "If you want to."

"Then I'm staying," Lexa is quick to answer, her last word looping with cheer. She scoots closer and reaches up for Clarke's face, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear and tracing her jaw as she leans in. Their lips meet in a soft kiss, barely a moment long, and Lexa draws back, tilting Clarke's chin until their eyes meet again, "If you want me to stay, I'll stay."

The "forever" gets stuck in her throat.

Eyes locked, Clarke smiles - first just the shadow of it, kept at bay by her teeth still sunk in her bottom lip, then it shines across her entire face and Lexa can't remember why she thought falling in love would be such a terrible thing.

Lexa leans in again and captures her bottom lip in between hers, sucking at it and smoothing the teeth marks with her tongue. Clarke opens her lips against Lexa's, welcoming her tongue against hers, sighing softly into the kiss as they deepen it. It's slow and soft and sleepy, but it's everything her soul has been craving for the last decade.

Reaching up to intertwine both her hands in Clarke's hair, Lexa forgets that half her weight is being held up by her hand, loses her balance and plops back down against the mattress with a graceless whine, pulling Clarke back to her. Their kiss breaks suddenly and Clarke bursts into laughter, a free and amused sound that fills the entire apartment, tucks her face into the crook of Lexa's neck before gathering herself.

"I see someone wants to keep me in bed," Clarke falls back into her teasing voice - one she's used over and over in the past few days and left Lexa a puddle each time - and adjusts herself until she's straddling Lexa's waist and leaning on her elbows until their lips are but an inch away.

Lexa huffs in feigned indignation, tracing the mattress with her hands until they fall on Clarke's thigh, beautifully clad in flannel pants - she knows it's supposed to be comfortable and anything but sexy, and yet, seeing Clarke sprawled on top of her, wearing pajamas sends a shiver down her spine straight to her core. "You're the one pinning me to bed."

Before Clarke can think of a witty comeback, Lexa reaches up for her lips, drawing her back into her interrupted kiss. Her hands trace up the soft fabric, smiling in the kiss when Clarke sighs contently and puts more force into the kiss. Lexa lets Clarke guide their rhythm as her fingers inch past the rem of the blonde's shirt and palms splay across newly discovered skin.

Just as Lexa is lifting her shirt up to get it out of their way, Clarke mumbles something into her mouth. Laughing at the absurdity of Clarke even thinking she would be able to understand anything at all, Lexa breaks the kiss and leans to the side, a questioning look on her face.

Clarke's shirt is nearly all the way out when she whispers against Lexa's lips, "Breakfast." Lexa is confused - she forgets even her own name when Clarke kisses her, how could she remember what meals are called - and looks at Clarke, who's quickly gathering her bearings and drawing herself to an upright position, "We need breakfast. I'm making breakfast."

Lexa is dumbfounded by the change, her mind a haze as she tries to catch up. "Clarke," she pouts, not a shadow of shame in her face as she clearly tries to manipulate the blonde into coming back to bed.

But Clarke is up already, putting a safe distance between them as she ties her hair in a knot on top of her head, "I'm starving and you are too and I can bet you forgot what breakfast even tastes like. Are pancakes okay?" Clarke isn't wrong, she is starving and her definition of breakfast is black coffee drank on the go. Lexa keeps her pout on as she nods and watches Clarke walking towards the bathroom. "Okay, good. I'll make pancakes and you go do your lawyering thing."

Burying her face on the pillow, Lexa can already tell her shit eating grin won't leave its place all day.

Clarke makes pancakes and pours amazing coffee into a oversized mug as Lexa checks her emails and answers the important ones. She tosses her iPad aside as Clarke sits beside her on the kitchen island, giving all her attention to the blonde and her stories about where she gets the incredible coffee, rejoicing in the knowledge nobody has ever had this with Clarke.

After breakfast, they take turn showering and Lexa borrows another set of clothes that smell too much like Clarke's - a NYU grey sweatshirt and black leggings. She comes out of the bathroom to find the blonde sprawled on her couch in a matching NYU sweatshirt, only in deep purple instead of grey, and Lexa leans in to kiss her.

Lexa borrows Clarke's laptop - it comes with an array of warnings, ranging from don't jump if you see what's in my browser history to you're dead if you touch my porn collection - and soon enough she is completely immersed in the contract she's drafting, pulling up notes from her iPad and checking her apps for an article or another she doesn't know from the top of her head. She's never felt this at ease even in her own office.

When Clarke asks if she can draw her, Lexa nods and stops herself from asking what Clarke sees in her that makes her want to draw her at all, lifting her chin and accepting the 'thank you' kiss Clarke offers her instead.

They spent their morning like that - Lexa typing on her laptop and Clarke filling page after page of details Lexa would never even think of - the silence being interrupted only by Clarke asking Lexa to turn this way or that for a moment and Lexa's huffs of frustration when she couldn't quite find her words.

Lunch time comes quickly. While Clarke cooks her penne with grilled vegetables and chicken with a side of sweet potato souffle, Lexa goes through the drawings Clarke made of her. Each and every one of them baffles Lexa. They're so different from the quick sketch she made with a blue ballpoint pen. These have more depth, the lines are more thoroughly thought of, and Lexa gasps at the sight of herself seen by an artist's eyes. She wants to kiss Clarke and it burns in her core until she realizes that she can kiss her - which leads to Clarke's souffle almost burning, but it was worth it.

All too soon, their time together is over.

Clarke drives them back to the hotel so Lexa can change from her borrowed sweats and into something a little more suitable for Christmas dinner. Lexa isn't used to be underdressed when even her 'at home' clothes look much like she could slip into a meeting without anyone even noticing it, but something about wearing Clarke's clothes make her wish she could stay in them forever. But then, she wants to see Clarke looking at her with the same astonished gaze Lexa had on when the blonde showed up with black pumps, matching black tights, a deep red pleated skirt and a cream long sleeved shirt, the rounded neckline showing just enough cleavage to make Lexa want to forget all about Christmas dinner and introducing Clarke to her family.

Having a girl waiting for her to get ready is odd and unusual. Anya waits for her every now and then, but mostly she steals her makeup and talks about whatever club is all the hype that week. But knowing Clarke is in her room, lounging in her bed, leaning against pillows that already smell a bit like the blonde, sets something inside of Lexa on fire.

She's almost running on autopilot as she carefully applies her makeup, heavier on the eyes than she usually does, and tames her hair until subtle waves fall down her back, changing into her outfit without much thought. Her mind drifts past the bathroom and into the bedroom where Clarke has the Russian novel Lexa has all given up on reading open on her lap. She soaks in the words in a way Lexa can't - the blonde had half forgotten about her already as she shooed Lexa away to the bathroom and tucked her tight clad feet under her thighs. Lexa could watch Clarke reading all day without wishing for anything else.

When she looks at the mirror, it makes her glad she picked what clothes she would wear to this dinner beforehand instead of putting it together on the spot - there's no way she'd be able to make her stupid, in love brain work for more than split moments at a time when Clarke keeps smiling at her because she looks "too good in Clarke's clothes". She wears something she knows her mother will like - a lacy sleeveless shirt in a off white tone tucked into a bright red tulle skirt, paired with champagne sequin shoes.

Lexa likes the sweatshirt better.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in her stomach when Clarke looks at her with something akin to reverence. As she steps into the bedroom, Lexa watches Clarke as she takes her in, pausing on her hair, her eyes, her waist. Clarke is on her feet in a moment, book forgotten, and she pads barefoot towards Lexa, who towers over her with her four-inch heels. Meeting her eyes, Clarke spills "you look beautiful" and Lexa is sure she'll say something flirty and silly after, but the blonde just holds her gaze. Setting a hand softly on her waist, almost with extra care so the fabric wouldn't crease, Clarke reaches for Lexa's face and gets on her tiptoes to place a kiss on her lips, linking their fingers together as they walk to the living room in search of Clarke's pumps.

The ride to the state her mother rented for the holiday season is filled with wishful glances and soft compliments that go back and forth like it's a rehearsed habit of them, formed by the years of being together.

When they find themselves standing side by side in front of the wide double doors, Lexa wishes nothing more than to go back to this morning, with Clarke cuddled beside her, in a room surrounded by art. The red clutch bends under her vicious grip and she has to consciously work her jaw loose as she stares a hole into the wood in front of her.

Lexa jumps slightly as Clarke sets a hand on her elbow and turns to her with a worried look, "Hey," she smiles softly, squeezes her elbow comfortingly, "You nervous?"

A nervous laughter echoes in her chest and Lexa leans against Clarke's touch, taking a step closer to her, closing her eyes against the wild hammering of her heart against her ribs. Her voice is all but a shaky whisper, "I'm terrified."

"We've got this, okay? We're ready." Clarke's voice is firm, sounding like she's so sure of her words she can't fathom how Lexa could think differently. Her fingers trail down her forearm until she can link their fingers, her other hand reaching up to press against her ribs, and suddenly Lexa feels at home. "We can pretend to be madly in love for an afternoon," her voice drops, almost if only to herself, "At least I know it won't be that hard for me." Lexa frowns at her, fully knowing Clarke can feel her heart pounding against her ribs, faster than ever. But Clarke doesn't meet her eyes, staring at her hand as she slides it around her waist, "We'll be touchy and your family will love me. We've learned everything about each other, we'll be fine."

Lexa, ever the glass half empty kind of person, presses on, her voice hitching slightly when Clarke passes a ticklish spot in her lower back, "What if that's not enough?"

Tilting her head to the side and pouting as she comes up with a solution, Clarke sways closer to Lexa, letting go of her hand to wrap both her arms around her waist "Well, if it's something about me, I'll just play along. If it's about you…" She pretends to think for a little while, but her smirk gives her away. Lexa rolls her eyes, grateful to Clarke for lightening the mood, and places a hand on her biceps, keeping her close as the other hand holds the presents they brought, "Okay, just say we've had some rough sex this morning and I hit my head on the headboard and my memories got a bit jumbled. I can totally pretend to have a concussion."

Lexa snorts and laughter bubbles in her chest when she thinks about that scene playing out, "Oh my god, Clarke." She's giving her mother a heart attack for Christmas, apparently.

"When in doubt, always mention sex to parents," Clarke shrugs, as if it isn't an absurd idea at all.

"That's some solid advice," Lexa shakes her head, all her nervousness replaced by a sense of safety. They can do this, as long as Clarke doesn't let go of her - and by how tight her embrace is, Lexa can almost tell she doesn't even want to. "I found the one thing you're terrible at: meeting parents," she teases and walks a few steps to the side, dragging Clarke with her as she still refuses to release her, and rings the doorbell.

She smiles when Clarke buries her face where her neck meets her shoulder, breathing her in so deeply that Lexa can feel her doing so, and mumbles against her skin "I'm terrible at a lot of things."

"I can't really believe that's true," Lexa whispers back, leaning down, settling her hand in between Clarke's shoulder blades. They stay silent for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being together before they get inside so the madness and pretense can begin.

Clarke grins against Lexa's skin, her chest shaking with a silent laughter as she teases. "At least it's not something major, like not knowing how to make rice."

Lexa steps back, insulted beyond her wits even though a smile is still firmly placed on her lips, "You little shit!" She pinches Clarke's side in retaliation and is rewarded by a yelp amidst laughter.

"What did you call me?" Clarke bursts into a free and careless laughter, shooting Lexa the most amused look she's ever seen as her hands leave her back and search for her cheeks, "Oh my god, say that again, it's too cute."

Pretending to pout for only a second before giving into a smile, Lexa gladly accepts the kiss Clarke offers her. It's barely a kiss at first, their grins getting in the way of any deepening of the kiss. It takes them a moment to stop smiling and Lexa finds her way to Clarke's waist as the blonde pulls her closer, both being suddenly so caught up on their kiss they don't realize the massive door opening.

"Do you two do that every time you're waiting for someone to answer the door or is it just for me?" They break the kiss and part, both having the decency of looking guilty as they turn to meet Lincoln's eyes and take in his stand - feet apart, hands sternly placed on his hips, looking down at the two girls with a frown etched in between his brows.

Lexa would be terrified if she didn't know her brother might have muscles stack on top of muscles, but is actually a big softie and an old time romantic.

And apparently, Clarke can see right through his tough and jealous big brother act. "I'll try to keep my paws off your sister while you're in the room," she says with a smirk, stealing his words, and letting go of Clarke to wrap her arms around his bulky shoulders. He hugs her affectionately, laughing it off with her.

"You get a pass but only because you're making her happy." She gives him a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek and winks at Lexa as she steps beside her again. Lexa wouldn't be surprised if Clarke's displays of affection became the center of attentions at dinner, but a part of her still hopes that they keep it down to stolen kisses when no one's seeing. It doesn't take her much to realize she doesn't want to share Clarke, even in these moments. She turns to the blonde and smiles, leaning in to place a kiss on her jawline. "I don't think I've ever seen Lex smile this much. It's almost unsettling," he says to Clarke in a stage whisper, earning an eyeroll from Lexa.

"I can't believe you won't defend my honor and will let her grope me," she lets out a puff of air, feigning annoyance with a very obvious smirk fighting its way to her lips.

"You say that like you weren't clearly enjoying yourself." Lincoln pulls her into a bear hug, lifting her from the floor with ease. She laughs at have been caught so red handed and hangs onto his shoulder, squeezing him back. His face is buried in her neck and he smiles against her, using the curtain her hair makes around them as a shield from Clarke's eyes as he whispers, really low and soft this time, "Do you think she's the one?"

Wriggling free from his arms, Lexa gives him a panicked look - is it so obvious to everyone around her that she wants to spend her life with Clarke? - before realizing they're supposed to be together for almost a year now, and that plans for the future are common topics for long term relationships.

She quickly changes her expression to a exasperated one, rolling her eyes to prove her point - and she can only hope she did it quick enough. "Where's your wife to keep you in check? You're a hazard when you're on your own."

Mentioning his wife completely changes his expression, the prospect of his little sister getting married forgotten once Octavia is brought to the front of his mind. As he scans the living room over his shoulder, Lexa turns to Clarke - because maybe she is the one, and maybe she has the same shit eating grin her brother always has when talking about his wife.

Clarke has taken her coat off and grabs the bag filled with gifts from Lexa so she can do the same, then passes her coat for Lexa to hang them both - it's a wordless ordeal, done with the efficiency that comes with years of being together, and Lexa aches for them, for what they'll never become.

Lincoln turns back to find Clarke snuggled against Lexa's side, her arm circling her waist so they can intertwine their fingers when Lexa lets her arm fall against her stomach. "I think she's in the bathroom. She has her morning sickness in the afternoon." He smiles at their joined hands and reaches out for the bag Clarke's holding, taking it away from her so she can wrap both her arms around Lexa.

"Has she tried mixing peppermint tea and ginger ale? It sounds gross to mix them both but some people swear by it," Clarke puts her chin on Lexa's shoulder and as much as Lexa is aware of Lincoln staring at her, she can't help her smile as she leans softly against Clarke.

Lincoln's voice is far away when he answers, "We'll definitely try it. She's been feeling so miserable." Her world gets a little fuzzy as Clarke draws lazy circles on her waist, Lexa lets her thumb slide against the back of Clarke's hand and turns to place a kiss on Clarke's temple.

She straightens up slightly to look at Lincoln, trying to focus on him instead of Clarke's touch and being only mildly successful at that, "Have you told mom yet?"

"Have you told mom what?" A voice floats through the foyer, warm and loving as in the majority of Lexa's childhood memories. Clarke almost completely lets go of her, probably out of respect for her mother, stepping aside while still keeping a hand on the small of her back.

Lexa wants to tug at her and melt into her embrace again, but Clarke seems to have gone slightly paler at the sight of her mother trudging towards them, worrying her bottom lip in between her teeth with more force than she should. The thought brings new butterflies to Lexa's stomach - was Clarke nervous about meeting her mother or was she just that good at playing pretending

"About Clarke!" Lincoln widens his eyes in a silent warning for Lexa to simply follow his lead and turns on his heels, "Which I did, since she's been keeping her hidden from us."

"Oh, not you too. Anya is already mad that I hid Clarke for all these months," Lexa plays along with Lincoln's save, rolling her eyes dramatically. She reaches for Clarke's hand, giving it a soft squeeze before taking a step towards her mother and throwing her arms around her, "Hi, mom."

"Hi, honey! I barely remember your face, I haven't seen you in ages," her mom has always been a dramatic soul and Lexa rolls her eyes playfully as the woman squeezes her middle. With a loud kiss on her cheek, she lets Lexa go and eyes the blonde wriggling her hands to a knot in front of her, "And you must be Clarke."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Woods," Clarke says in a small voice, swallowing thickly as she steps forward and reaches out for a handshake.

"Just Eudoxia, please," Lexa watches with a smile on her face as her mother engulfs a clueless Clarke into a tight embrace. It takes her a moment to soften into the hug, but Lexa watches relief flooding Clarke's face as she clings to the back of Eudoxia's sweater. "I've heard about you in the last hour and a half, and my daughter has been dating you for months? Where were you on Thanksgiving?" Eudoxia speaks into Clarke's hair, playfully glaring at Lexa from over her shoulder, before finally releasing the blonde, "I swear I raised her better than this."

"We're two relationship chickens, I guess we were just waiting to see who'd run away first." Clarke smiles as she shrugs, her answer coming almost too easily to her. Lexa barely has time to process how honest Clarke sounds before the blonde is beside her, a little color coming back to her cheeks when Lexa slides her hand into Clarke's. It's become an instinctive gesture by now, but when Lexa squeezes her hand softly and Clarke looks up at her, she knows she'll never get tired of holding Clarke's hand.

Eudoxia grabs Lincoln's arms and smile at them so wide Lexa almost bursts into tears, "And who did?"

Clarke whips her head back to her mother and brother-in-law, "Surprisingly, no one." The blonde brings her free hand to squeeze at Lexa's bicep, her eyes falling on her again. "I guess we're in it for real now."

For a moment, there's no one else in the room - only Clarke and her blue eyes staring at her, her teeth gently digging on her bottom lip to keep a grin from spreading. The butterflies on her stomach seem to have ganged up on her but she doesn't care, not when her heartbeat matches the rapid fluttering of their wings.

"Good, because I have so much to learn! I want to know everything," her mother's excited voice brings her out of her reverie and reality smacks her in the face - she knows that if she lets her mother get her hands on Clarke, the poor woman won't ever recover. "Did she at least talk about us?"

Lexa takes a deep breath and glares at her mom for a moment, before rolling her eyes at her brother's boyish grin, "Can you all let Clarke breathe? She barely made it through the door." She pulls at their joined hands until Clarke falls in step with her as she leads them away from the two, "Come on, babe, let's get you something to drink."

As soon as the pet name slips her lips, Lexa almost regrets it - almost, because Clarke squeezes her arm and hides a grin on her shoulder. She turns and presses a kiss on the crown of Clarke's head, rolling her eyes as she hears her mother giggling. The part that makes her wish she hadn't said anything is when Lincoln says "she called her babe, mom," in a voice that belongs to a twelve-year-old girl when talking to her best friend about a boy band member.

"I don't think I prepared you enough for this," Lexa chuckles to Clarke as they enter the living room. More than anyone, she knows her mother means well, but she also knows the woman can come on a little bit too strong when she's introduced to someone new.

Clarke halts to a stop, turning to stand in front of Lexa, taking both her hands into hers, "I absolutely love your mom. I wanna keep her."

Oh, the poor clueless soul. Lexa rolls her eyes, but smiles when Clarke tugs at her hand - it feels almost like a warning for her to be more polite. The domesticity of the gesture makes her eyes close slightly as she wills her heart to stay quiet. "She's the worst at meeting girlfriends," Lexa says, feigning an annoyed sigh as she runs her hands up Clarke's arms, "I think half of Octavia's sickness is just bad memories from when she first met my mom."

Clarke lets out a breathy laugh that Lexa feels on her neck as the blonde wraps her arms around her waist, "She's not that bad."

It takes her more than a moment to focus on something other than the way Clarke's hands are splayed on the small of her back, fingers pressing against the fabric of her blouse. She chooses to focus on Clarke's eyes instead and immediately regrets it - her blue eyes are the way to lose herself to the world, not make it come back into shape.

Lexa lets one hand fall to Clarke's waist as the other comes up to hold the back of her neck. It's hardly appropriate, but she can't find it in herself to care. "Wait until dinner."

Humming against Lexa's skin, Clarke presses her lips to the line of her jaw, speaking in a sultry voice Lexa can't fathom how she can muster at all, "If it's really that bad and I somehow survive, what will be my reward?"

Lexa turns into molten lead and the only thought in her head is a long stream of "no, no, no." They can't do this here, Lexa won't survive being on the receiving ending of Clarke's flirting without combusting into flames in front of her family. She swallows thickly, mumbling her answer in a high pitched voice, "I don't know, uh, ice cream?"

Lexa freezes in place when the tip of Clarke's tongue traces the line of her jaw and leans back to look at her, her blue eyes warm and wanting, "Only if I can eat it off of you."

"Jesus, Clarke," Lexa breathes out and closes her eyes for just a moment before stepping back slightly as she wills herself to stay in the moment and not drag Clarke to one of the guest rooms.

Clarke gazes at her feigning innocence, her eyes roaming Lexa's face with an amused glint. Lexa is pretty sure her cheeks are red with how badly they're burning, but she leans in on Clarke's touch as the blonde reaches up to cup her jaw. It never ceases to amaze Lexa how Clarke can go from ridiculously sexy and tempting to adorably sweet in just a fraction of a second.

For a moment, she forgets her surroundings, the tip of her nose colliding with Clarke's as they lean in for a kiss - only to be painfully reminded in the next.

A disgusted noise is all the warning they get before Anya materializes beside them, "I can see your heart eyes from across the room. How the hell did they get worse in three days?"

It shocks Lexa to hear that - has it really been only three days since their company party? These last days have been much more than twenty-four hours long, if you ask Lexa. Her days usually melt together, one case blurring into the next one as she trades sleep for coffee, counting the days only by her morning meetings. Her life in Vancouver is hectic to the point she gets lost in the days, never realizing when it's Sunday until Anya shows up in her house with a hangover and drunk stupidities stories.

But Clarke seems to have slowed her days down to a calming pace, and she enjoys every hour without the panic of not getting enough done. It'll all be over soon, Lexa reminds herself, and she'll regret not squeezing work in the holidays, but for now she's just happy that she got to know Clarke, got to fall in love with this terrific woman.

They part completely, the only link between them being their intertwined hands. Lexa misses the warmth of Clarke's body so close against hers and she wonders how long they need to stay before it's polite to leave. "We've had some good days together," Clarke's voice is soft and her eyes meet Lexa's as they follow Anya towards the couch - that look says more than Lexa can understand, but the care and warmth behind it is clear.

Anya glances over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes at Lexa for a moment before a smirk shows up on her face and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, "Do you mean sex?"

Lexa feels a hot wave crawling up her neck and cheeks, knowing very well the blunt question made her turn into a ripe tomato. Instead of answering, she gives Octavia a sympathetic look- the woman is sprawled on the couch, looking very green, all decency forgotten as she lets her legs fall wide open in her slouched position. Lexa hopes the gross concoction Clarke mentioned helps her through this rough patch and it gets better as the baby grows.

She's so focused imagining how much Octavia will glow when her baby bump starts to show that she jumps slightly when Clarke's arms close around her waist, hugging her from behind as she laughs against her neck before kissing her cheek.

"Great sex, yes. But we also spent some quality time talking and cuddling – do you know how hard it is to cuddle when you literally live in different countries?" Clarke kisses her neck softly as the words fall from her in an indignant tone. Octavia and Anya seem to eat it up, "I don't think we've spent these many days together since we started dating, have we, babe?" She turns to look at Lexa, who cranks her head to the side to look at Clarke, shaking her head slightly as the joy of being called 'babe' washes over her - she'll never get tired of hearing Clarke say it. "And, the most amazing part of all, I got to see firsthand how bad at cooking Lex is."

Scoffing and rolling her eyes playfully, Lexa settles her hands on Clarke's forearms, waiting for hell to break loose. She should have known the three of them would gang up on her, but Lexa can't find it in her to be annoyed, so she just sways lightly from side to side as Clarke guides them.

Octavia holds her head up, looking slightly less green with the prospect of hearing someone else talking shit about Lexa's cooking. "You did? Tell me, let's share horror stories."

"Come on, we've all got one. You hadn't proven her superb cooking yet?" Anya gets more comfortable on her seat beside Octavia, leaning her elbows on top of a throw pillow she puts on her lap - she looks like a kid who's about to hear the most interesting story ever, with puppets.

"I'm leaving," Lexa raises her eyebrows, trying to muster something resembling a threatening look, but Anya's eye roll lets her know she's failed. It's hard to look menacing when she can't keep herself from smiling.

"No, you're not," Octavia says pointedly to Lexa as she adjusts a pillow underneath her head and turns to Clarke, "We are so starting a club."

"Shush, babe, this is happening," Clarke gives her a peck on the cheek before snuggling closer to her, leaning her chin on her shoulder and turning back to the two women on the couch, "Anyway, we were at my place yesterday and I was feeling really down, so she ran me a bath, which was really sweet of her, and decided to cook me dinner." Lexa smiles brightly at the memory, looking down at her shoes, suddenly fascinated by how the sequin look under the warm light. "I was skeptical, Octavia and Lincoln had warned me off of it, but the bath was amazing and my girlfriend wanted to cook me dinner, I wasn't gonna say no." My girlfriend. The words echo within her ribs and grow until she can barely breathe, let alone focus on something as feeble as words. "At first there was a really good smell coming from the kitchen, spices and garlic and all that, and for a moment there I actually thought something good was gonna come out."

Everything about what Clarke is saying is true, all the details that make them girlfriends, all the little things they thought they'd have to lie about. Maybe they wouldn't have to lie at all. Maybe everything they had together was enough.

Octavia grunts and shifts on her spot, throwing her legs on the couch until they're on Anya's lap, saying in a disappointed tone, "Oh boy, I've been there."

"Ten minutes into my relaxing bath, I smell burnt food," her tone is dramatic, like she's telling the most fantastic adventure to a bunch of five year olds - and both Anya and Octavia play the part. Clarke lets go of her waist, gesturing wildly as to match the feel of her story. "And mind you, my apartment is above my gallery, so if she set fire to my apartment, I'd lose my house and my job." Lexa rolls her eyes and clasp her hands in front of her, watching Clarke's hands moving more than she's paying attention to her words, "I got out and ran to the kitchen to find her staring at a skillet filled with rice that looked a lot like bits of charcoal and raw chicken."

"Did she try to make chicken rice and broccoli? Because I can vouch for that, it's really good," Octavia says from her spot in the couch and Lexa hates it that she beams at the compliment.

Anya scoffs and Lexa can feel Clarke laughing against the back of her neck. "It is, when she gets it right," she almost doesn't care when Anya makes a gagging motion - Octavia doesn't seem so amused, growing greener with the sounds alone.

She really really should work on her cooking, but she knows that once she's back in Canada and back to working until well past two in morning, homemade cooking will be the last thing on her mind. For now, she plays along, pouting as she grumbles "I hate every one of you" before turning to Clarke, "Babe, I'm getting a drink. Do you want something?"

Lexa is just close enough for her to feel Clarke's breath catch and the ghost of a smile appear on her lips. She sets her hands on Lexa's waist and squeezes it softly, pressing a kiss on her neck and letting her go, "Oh, I'll have whatever you're having."

Kissing her cheek and crinkling her nose at Clarke, Lexa makes her way to the dining area, where a sideboard holds all sorts of drinks - her mother really likes to go all the way when it comes to alcohol.

Anya jumps to her feet, almost dropping Octavia on her way up, and half jogs after Lexa, "I'll go get one too." Lexa walks to the cabinet and grabs two glasses, squinting at Anya's oddly wide grin. "You'll never guess who your mom invited for Christmas."

"I don't know. Who?" Lexa asks in an uninterested tone, mostly to indulge Anya than out of curiosity - her big guess would be Indra, but her mother had told about her the woman had cancelled. She focus instead in choosing a good wine from the selection her mother set out, picking a chardonnay and pouring two glasses, waiting for Anya to go on.

"You're drinking wine? Since when do you take wine over whiskey?" Anya eyes her suspiciously as she pours herself a healthy dose of scotch over ice cubes. Lexa busies herself with settling the bottle back with much more care than needed - she hadn't even thought about getting whiskey, which is usually her go to drink. Anya comes up with an answer before she herself could, "Oh. Oh. Clarkey doesn't like whiskey, does she?"

Lexa picks up both glasses and purposefully strides back to the living room, ignoring Anya's belly laughter as best as she can. It irks her more than it should - not much for how Anya would tease her about it for years to come, but for the fact that she didn't realize she was doing it until Anya pointed it out.

Her last five Christmas had been spent in a whiskey haze, all the lights on the Christmas tree shining a little too fuzzy as she laughed a maniac laugh only a drunk in pain could muster. Now, she's content with simply sipping her wine standing beside the girl she loves.

Lexa hands Clarke her wine, receiving a gentle peck on her lips as a thank you before the blonde turns back to talk to Octavia - they're talking about remedies for morning sickness and how to fight off the exhaustion that takes over you. Lexa smiles at how into it Clarke is. With all the tips and home remedies she's giving Octavia, anyone could swear Clarke had been pregnant herself to know it all first hand.

Turning to Anya, who's clearly only barely keeping herself from teasing her again, Lexa sighs from behind her glass as she takes another sip, "Well, who did my mom invite?"

Anya looks past Lexa's shoulder, breaking into a smile as she merely tilts her chin up and gives Lexa a meaningful look for her to look behind her. Lexa frowns and tilts her head in question before turning on her heels and meeting the new guest.

Her frown gives way to wide eyes and a slacked jaw, disbelief leaving her frozen in place for a moment. Before she has the mind to put her half full glass down, Lexa throws her arms around the man's shoulders, squeezing him into a tight hug without minding the wine almost sloshing over the edge of her glass.

"Roan!" Lexa yelps against his shoulder, laughter bubbling in her chest to match his. He hugs her back and she can't help feeling relieved at the familiarity of this - his wide strong hand splayed across her back, his broad chest flush against her front. She smiles widely and closes her eyes for a second, trying to keep her mind from traveling years back. "Oh my god, I can't believe my mom didn't tell me! It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, stranger," Roan shoves her shoulder playfully and she laughs at his offended face, stepping back to fully see his face - his beard had finally stopped growing in patches and his hair didn't go past his shoulders anymore, but his eyes have still the same boyish glint to it. "I can't believe you ditched my ass only because I had a kid."

It feels like a slap and she knows she deserves it. She sighs and presses her lips together tightly, glancing at her wine and almost regrets getting it instead of whiskey, "I didn't. Roan, come on. I've- it's been rough."

"I can tell. You looked like shit whenever we Skyped. But damn, you look nice," his tone is back to being playful and the kind smile on his face tells Lexa she's forgiven - she desperately needs to make up for it, but she's forgiven. He lowers his voice to a stage whisper, looking conspicuous with this squinting "Getting laid suits you."

Lexa rolls her eyes, completely unaware of how closely Clarke is listening to that exchange. Her wine glass is empty and she sets it down before it breaks with how tightly she's been holding on to it, her conversation with Octavia completely forgotten. She watches as Lexa turns back to meet Anya's uninterested gaze, and even she can call bullshit on that. "Did you talk to Anya?"

"Even if I hadn't. I mean, please." He gestures at her, as if telling her to look at herself. She knows she's been quicker to smile in the last few days, but it's mostly with Clarke and she wasn't aware it was this obvious, "You're not the same Lexa Woods I used to have to bust my ass to get even a smile from."

Lexa nudges him, fighting a smile in a feeble attempt to not let him win - she fails, miserably, and turns to direct her smile at Clarke. She scans the room for the blonde when she doesn't find her sitting next to Octavia and finds her pouring herself a second glass of wine. Lexa's smile widens without her consent at the thought that Clarke feels safe enough among her family to actually enjoy herself and drink a little more wine than she usually allows herself to.

"Is Chyler here?" Lexa draws her gaze back to Roan, her smile almost refusing to leave her lips as she sips her wine. She really is happier than she's been the entire time she's known Roan, and clearly, it shows.

"Yeah, she's napping. She's very excited to meet her auntie Lexa." Roan's happiness is stamped on his face as well - it's been like that ever since he adopted Chyler, four years ago. Parenthood agrees with him and for the first time in a decade, Lexa has a faint little voice in her head wondering if it would agree with her as well "She doesn't remember you, Lexa, that's how long you've been gone."

Lexa scoffs, "Of course she remembers me. I've seen her not even three years ago."

"And she's six, that's half her entire life." Roan pulls a dramatic tone, trying to guilt trip Lexa and being oddly successful at it. She pouts and crinkles her nose at him when he lets out an exaggerated sigh, "She has no recollection of you."

She rolls her eyes, ready to remember him all the time they've Skyped in the last year alone, when she feels a warm hand sliding across the small of her back. Lexa turns her head to find Clarke wrapping an arm around her waist, firmly clinging to her hip as a smile fixes on her face but barely touches her eyes.

Changing her wine glass to her free hand so she can snake a hand around Clarke as well, Lexa leans in to press a kiss on her cheek, dragging the tip of her nose down her skin before turning to Roan, "Oh, this is Clarke. Clarke, this is Roan."

"You're the New York Chick, right? I've heard about you." Roan smiles warmly, going for a hug at the same time Clarke reaches out for a handshake. After an awkward moment, they settle for shaking hands - Lexa watches the interaction a little too fascinated when she notices Clarke gripped his hand a little too hard to be seen as friendly.

"I can't really say the same," her tone is cold and controlled, icy blue eyes shooting daggers at Roan.

Lexa plays with the fabric under her fingers, drawing half circles on Clarke's waist with her thumb, trying to ease the mood of the conversation, "Roan and I went to law school together."

Roan seems to pick up something Lexa is still in the dark about, turning his voice sickly sweet and filled with more intention than it was necessary, "Oh, we did a lot more than that." With her eyes still glued to Clarke, she sees it clearly when the blonde locks her jaw - at the same time she tightens her grip around her waist, pulling her flush against her side.

Clarke couldn't possibly be jealous, could she?

Shaking her head at her own impossible thoughts, she turns to Roan, catching his eyes in a warning before giving in, "We… Well, we sort of dated."

"Sort of? Excuse you, we went out for two entire years," he makes a show of the sentence and leans in towards Clarke, getting dangerously close and finishing his thought in a whisper, "She can tell you otherwise, but those were the best two years of her life."

Watching the exchange, Lexa can see both how amused Roan is with this entire ordeal and how close Clarke is to punching his face. She works her jaw loose for a moment, before gritting her teeth again and closing her eyes briefly to steady her breathing - she can feel how heavy Clarke's breathing is against her own ribcage, can see it in the fast rise and fall of her chest.

Maybe jealousy isn't a too far fetched idea.

As enticing as the idea of Clarke being jealous of her is, Lexa doesn't want the blonde to feel uncomfortable. She presses her nose against Clarke's locked jaw, trying to ease the knot in it, as she turns to the man, her voice coming out almost threateningly, "Roan, please."

He takes a step back, putting his hands up in defeat as his smile turns back into the friendly one Lexa's relied on back in the day, "Lexa is one hell of a good girlfriend."

"I know she is," Clarke seems to relax ever so slightly against her and the blonde turns to Lexa, their noses nudging with how close they are. Lexa begins to draw back only to have Clarke search her for a kiss. It's a chaste kiss, but both women have a smile on their lips when they part. "We've been together for almost a year and she's been fantastic every minute of it."

Roan's smile matches the one Anya gave Lexa a few minutes ago - one that tells her that a merciless teasing session will take place as soon as she's left alone and away from Clarke's gaze. He turns to Clarke, "We need to have a chat after dinner. I have to tell you about the time she almost threw up in the Toronto's mayor's doghouse."

"She does not need to hear that story, Roan," Lexa laughs at the memory - in her defense, she didn't know she was allergic to clam shells - and she finds herself hoping Clarke and Roan get along. He better try to be friendly, he better be aware of how important Clarke is to her - how important she's pretending Clarke is, she tries to correct herself, but it doesn't get her far. "God, where's Kelsey to keep you in check?"

"The bitch left me alone with our kid for the holidays," Roan sighs dramatically and lets his shoulders sag slightly, getting a soft laugh out of Lexa. She had forgotten how Roan's artistic vein always seem to make an appearance in the most inopportune times. "I'm getting a divorce and you're defending me, you better get me Chyler's guard."

"Saving lives doesn't come with a social calendar," Lexa arches her eyebrow to Roan, who does little but scoff and roll his eyes, as if Kelsey doesn't text him a billion times in between surgeries. She chuckles softly and Clarke's grip around her tightens ever so slightly, slender fingers curling part of her blouse into a fist. "Don't you have a daughter to check up on?"

Roan glances at the vicious grip Clarke has on her and laughs, closing his eyes as he shakes his head. He turns to look at Lexa from over his shoulder as he takes the stairs two at a time, "You're not getting out of it that easy."

As soon as he's out of sight, Clarke relaxes beside her. Lexa can feel the muscles in her spine loosening, her arm growing softer around her. She unclenching the fabric of her blouse from her fist and smoothing it out lightly, before letting go completely of her, "I need some fresh air."

Clarke is gone before Lexa can say anything. She can barely catch a glance of her blonde hair floating behind her as Clarke takes wide strands, looking like she needs to be anywhere but near her. Her gaze follows Clarke disappear through the side door and reappear in one of the tall windows, teeth worrying her bottom lip as she runs her palms up and down her arms, trying to generate some heat.

Lexa twirls her wine as she considers what to do next. If Clarke were actually her girlfriend, she'd go outside and ask what's wrong. But Clarke, the woman she's doing a business transaction with, might only need some time to herself away from the insanity Lexa's family is shaping up to be.

Setting her wine down on the coffee table and ignoring Octavia's and Anya's questioning looks, Lexa grabs the fluffy blanket thrown over the back of the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, going after Clarke.

"Want to snuggle?" Lexa says carefully, opening her arms to let Clarke into a hug so she could wrap her arms around the blonde as they talked. Instead, she gets a dirty look from Clarke, who crosses her arms over her chest in a clear rejection of Lexa's proposal. She drops her arms and wrap the blanket around herself, taking a step closer to Clarke, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Lexa." It comes out in a tone too similar to a snap for either of them to believe it was sincere.

Lexa watches Clarke pace and forces herself to believe she's doing that to warm herself up and nothing more. "You were a bit weird with Roan, I wanted to check on you." Clarke rolls hers eyes at that comment and Lexa feels her blood turning cold at the blatant despair in Clarke's stare. "I- I can give you some space if you want."

She bites her cheeks to keep bile from rising to her throat. Clarke has never looked at her that way - not when they first met, not when Lexa all but called her a whore, never. It feels plain wrong to be at the receiving end of that stare. Lexa wants to search the blue pools for something akin to disgust or hatred, but she's too scared of actually finding anything like that in them.

All she can do is cast her eyes on the floor and wait until Clarke tells her to leave her alone.

"It's fine, whatever," Clarke's words come out as a bite and Lexa forces herself to glance up - she finds wild blonde hair, messed by the cold wind, blushed cheeks and a fierce look in her eyes. A part of her wants to say she looks cute, that they should go inside and get warmed up, a part of her wants to kiss her if only to give her something to take warmth from. But the fire in Clarke's eyes halts her thoughts. "I just-" Clarke stops and turns to Lexa, "Somehow, your mom thought it was a good idea to bring your ex-boyfriend over when the entire family is meeting your current girlfriend. She clearly wants us to work out."

Oh.

Oh.

Lexa tilts her head and tries to hide her grin into the folds of her blanket, pulling the fabric tighter around her, "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?" Clarke all but snarls and Lexa feels warmth flooding her stomach - she's well aware this is all kinds of inappropriate, but she's turned on by this raging Clarke. The blonde runs her fingers through her hair, messing it up as the wind whips it to the other side, and she returns to her pacing. "He's clearly still hung up on you. And you were certainly okay with his shameless flirting." Lexa is about to say something when Clarke turns on her heels to pace to the other side of the patio, glaring at Lexa and spitting through gritted teeth, "I was standing right beside you and he kept winking and grinning and-" Clarke starts stuttering and Lexa can almost see it dawning on her that she's overreacting, "talking about how he was the best you ever had and- and seducing you with his cute kid."

Chyler really is the cutest kid, but Clarke has no way of knowing that. Lexa fights a chuckle with all she has, but she can't keep the amusement from her voice, "Are you jealous, Clarke?" The k sound comes out sharp and throaty, knowing it does a number on the blonde.

"I'm not," Clarke whips her head, eyes wide as if the idea of her being jealous never even crossed my mind, "What would I even have to be jealous of? We're not really dating, none of this is real. I can leave you two to it if that's what you want," the blonde gestures wildly towards the house and grits her teeth again, resuming her pacing.

Her words are meant to wound, Lexa can tell that much - but they come out sounding a lot more like Clarke is trying to convince herself that what she's saying is true. Lexa knows she shouldn't be so gleeful to see Clarke this worked up, but she lets herself savor it a bit more. It'll be one of those memories she'll cherish when she's alone again.

She wraps herself further into her blanket as she watches Clarke pull at her hair, hiding her shameless smile in the folds. Lexa has half a mind to go inside and get another blanket for Clarke so they can continue this little scene without the blonde freezing to death - her lips are dangerously close to a blue hue, despite her neck being flushed with heat her anger is fueling her with.

"How could you date someone who calls his wife a bitch for two years?" Clarke snaps again, folding her arms over her chest as she shakes her head, a little cloud forming in front of her as she speaks, "I can't you see you doing that."

Lexa sighs, deciding it's enough - as amusing as this is, she doesn't want Clarke to catch pneumonia. She takes a couple of steps forward, getting in Clarke's way and keeping her still for long enough that she can explain, "Kelsey is Roan's husband. And they call each other bitch all the time, it's an endearment term for them."

"What?" The word falls from Clarke's lips sounding more like an involuntary noise of surprise than an actual thought out question. Lexa bites her bottom lip to keep herself from grinning at Clarke's dumbfounded expression and simply waits a moment until Clarke's eyebrows are back down before talking.

Lexa searches Clarke's eyes, locking them into hers as she begins - she wants Clarke's attention, wants her to hear every word and understand each of them. "He's gay. We didn't date, I just... attended events with him," they did spend a lot of time together, but it was mostly spent talking about what boy Roan was crushing on while Lexa ate all his snacks "He comes from an influential family, somewhere I could meet people and build a solid network. And he needed a beard, some arm candy for his father not to disown him." Lexa fights against the memories so she can focus on Clarke, who seems to be softening as the real story is stitched together, "He… He was the first one to make me laugh after Costia. Roan pulled me out of my grief."

The silent lingers and the wind howls so loudly now Lexa wouldn't be able to hear Clarke's faint "oh" if she weren't standing so close, waiting so desperately for a reaction. Lexa gives Clarke a shy smile as she opens her arms again, welcoming Clarke into a hug and wrapping her arms around her to warm her up.

They stand like that for a long while and Lexa can barely tell if Clarke is getting any warmer or if she's getting colder. She runs her palms up and down the blonde's back, trying to get the friction to generate heat, and almost loses the blanket a couple of times - she can't tell if it's because she wasn't holding the fabric tightly enough or because the way Clarke buried her face in the crook of her hair and each breathing makes her shiver.

Clarke sneaks her hands under Lexa's blouse, palming her freezing hands against the warm skin of her back and Lexa yelps, jumping slightly. Clarke laughs against her neck and straightens up to press a kiss on the underside of her jaw. "I'm sorry," her serious tone let Lexa knows she meant more than startling her with her cold hands, "Are we okay?"

Lexa adjusts her hold on Clarke and tilts her head to meet blue eyes, her voice as soft as her gaze, "Yeah, we're okay."

She leans down to press a quick, chaste kiss on Clarke's lips - for good measure, to show that they are okay. Clarke captures her lips again, running her tongue across her bottom lip as they part, a mischievous look lighting up her face, "Can we make out?"

Narrowing her eyes, Lexa tilts back to take Clarke in. The girl is still wrapped around her and she has her eyebrows lifted in suggestion, her lips tilted in a grin. Lexa can't help but wear a matching smile as she asks, "Is this because you want to prove you're the best I've ever had and not Roan?"

Clarke considers her suggestion as she straightens up, taking her hands away from Lexa's skin. In one swoop movement, she takes Lexa's blanket away and wraps around herself, catching her eyes, "Part because of that," her blue eyes burn bright in the fading sunlight as she smirks, "Part because it's exciting to kiss when a parent might find you."

Lexa frowns, fighting a laughter that bubbles in her chest, "How old are you? Fourteen?"

The sound of Clarke laughing makes Lexa smile wider, wrapping her fingers around Clarke's and letting herself be pulled towards the back of the house. It's barely hidden, only a sad bush that has survived the cold weather keeping them from being in full view from the living room's window. When her back hits the wall, Lexa swears she doesn't care if the entire world sees them.

Being told she was going to make out with a pretty girl made Lexa completely forget about how cold it was outside. But Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa's neck, letting the blanket engulf them both as she leans in for a kiss - their noses bump and Lexa smiles, she feels a matching smile from Clarke when their lips meet, and everything is right again.

Lexa lets her hands wander around Clarke's hips, tracing the swell of her behind before settling for the spot in the small of her back and pulls her flush against her body. She opens her lips at the same time Clarke darts her tongue out and trace her lower lip and the kiss deepens.

It's only after Lexa starts seeing white dots behind her eyelids that she pulls apart.

Her hand traces up Clarke's side, mapping each inch until she cups her cheek, holding her in place where she places soft kisses on her cheek, "You are, though." Clarke pulls back only enough to give Lexa a questioning look and Lexa closes her eyes for a moment, gathering courage to say the words before she whispers, "The best I've ever had."

Clarke laughs heartily against her cheek and dips her head to kiss Lexa again. Lexa takes everything Clarke pours into her, pulling the blonde impossibly closer when their tongues slide against each other in a rhythm that has grown so familiar but still manages to make her stomach flutter.

Lexa breaks for air again - she forgets to breathe when Clarke has her lips against her, she forgets she even needs oxygen when the blonde is that close - and Clarke presses against her, letting her forehead rest on Lexa's. When she speaks, her voice is a barely there sound, a breeze that almost doesn't make it to her, "Lex. Is this- is this real?"

She feels the need to pull back and look at Clarke's eyes to answer this, but the blonde refuses to change positions. Lexa circles her waist and pulls her close until every inch of them is touching, and lets her fingers intertwine with the fine hairs of Clarke's nape. The answer floats in her mind, fighting more reasonable ones, one that would be safer to say, but Lexa whispers it anyway, "It's real. We're real."

Her words seem to stir something inside Clarke - Lexa can feel her back muscles relaxing, her breathing returning to normal. "We are," she repeats almost in disbelief and giggles against Lexa's cheek.

Their lips meet again, more urgent and demanding, and Lexa is happy to give everything to Clarke. The blonde lets go of the blanket, that soon falls off their shoulders and pools at their feet, and holds Lexa's face in between her hands. Lexa keeps up with the new found rhythm of their kiss and something inside her tells it's way too much for a make out session when your entire family is one wall away.

She quickly shoves those thoughts away when Clarke edges her thigh in between hers, pressing against her hard enough for Lexa to break the kiss. She finds herself shamelessly panting against Clarke's collarbone, her forehead resting on her shoulder as the blonde wanders around her body. Lexa sags against her as Clarke peppers kisses on her neck, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet the skin as her hands drop low and squeeze her ass. If she moans, she can only hope it's low enough no one will hear.

Clarke's hand bunches the fabric of her skirt and Lexa is ready to let go of any self control and let Clarke her way with her up against the wall. That is, until the blonde's free hand finds its way to her inner thigh - her fingers feel like ice cubes against the warm skin and Lexa yelps, jumping away from the sudden feeling.

Clarke stares at her, frozen in place with the worry of having hurt her printed in those wide blue eyes. Lexa reaches down and wraps both her hands around Clarke's, bringing them up and blowing hot air against the skin. Her own hands aren't that warm and it doesn't take much for her to long being alone with Clarke, tucked inside her sheets with art supplies all around them.

Lexa kisses Clarke's knuckles, whispering against them, "Your hands are freezing." Lexa relaxes as Clarke smiles sheepishly and rubs her own hands together. Lexa can't help kissing the tip of her nose, "Come on, let's go inside."

Picking up the forgotten blanket and wrapping it around them both, Lexa adjusts her grip on the edges with one hand, securing it, and lets her arm envelope Clarke's waist as they walk inside. They bump hips for a few steps, until Clarke stops them with a light tap on Lexa's thigh and gestures for them to match their steps. Lexa follows her silent instructions - right foot first, then left, then right again - and presses her tighter against her body.

The air inside the house is so warm Lexa can feel her skin prickling uncomfortably, but she's grateful for it nonetheless. Clarke takes the blanket off their shoulders and Lexa reluctantly lets go of her waist, turning to find the blonde almost shivering. She tosses the blanket on the back of the couch - if it hits Anya on the face, she doesn't look long enough to see it - and rubs her palms against Clarke's arm, the friction warming her up quickly.

She's about to ask if she's okay, if she wants to borrow a sweater from her mom, when the woman pops her head in the living room, "Clarke, honey. Would you mind helping me and Linc in here?" Eudoxia gestures vaguely towards the kitchen, being way too obvious about her intentions. Clarke is quick to agree, nodding enthusiastically before giving Lexa a quick peck on the cheek.

Lexa twists her fingers into a knot as she watches both women walking away. In a last effort, she shouts, "Want me to go too, mom?"

"Nope, just your girlfriend," her mom waves her away without even looking at her. Clarke looks over her shoulder, a bright smile washing over her features as she winks - it calms Lexa, even if slightly, and she watches them until the door closes behind her mom.

Breathing in deeply to calm her nerves, she turns to find two pairs of eyes staring at her. Anya's smirk is telling, but it's Octavia who chims in, "You're so smitten."

Before Lexa has time to embarrass herself with a high pitched 'am not!' yelp, Anya says in her all too common mocking voice, "What's got your panties in a bunch like this?" She narrows her eyes at Lexa's silence, tilting her head as if she's studying her, "Are you afraid Eudoxia will scare her away?"

The last three words are supposed to be ironic, but it is a concern and Lexa isn't proud of the shiver that runs down her spine. In that moment, Clarke isn't someone who can't be scared away because she's paid for until the New Year's. In that moment, she's simply Lexa's girlfriend meeting her scary mom for the first time.

Lexa bites her lip, trying to keep her cool that is quickly running away from her, "Of course I am. Mom can't do normal when it comes to girlfriends. Remember the horror stories from when Costia met her? Remember Octavia?"

Anya chuckles, nudging Octavia's thigh that is thrown across her lap, "Oh man, yeah. That was a fun weekend."

"You laughed at me when I was being interrogated by my future mother in law?" Octavia's jaw drops and her offended tone is loud and shrieking. In her attempt to take her legs away from Anya's teasing, she almost knocks her knee against the blonde's jaw. The sight calms Lexa a bit more - Octavia survived it, Clarke will survive it too.

Anya grabs both Octavia's legs and pull them closer to her, keeping them both from falling to the floor, "Shut up, fattie. We've been doing the same."

The nickname tips something off on Lexa - does Anya know? She's ready to get dragged into what she's sure to be a heated discussion about baby names - Anya will try to convince everyone to name the baby something ridiculous like "The Hulk" - but before she can say anything, the most adorable sight catches her eyes.

Roan is carrying a sleepy Chyler down the stairs, her tiny fist rubbing the sleep away from her eyes as her dad shushes her and tries to get her attention to the new guest. For a moment, Lexa just watches how beautifully right they fit together - Roan has her shoes and rag doll in one hand, and Chyler on the other arm, her white tights clad feet dangling with each of his moves.

When little Chyler drops her head on Roan's shoulder and fights sleep so hard her eyes roll, Lexa can swear her heart melts.

It takes the girl a while to wake up and Lexa can't help the dangerous path her thoughts take. As she watches the deep, slow breaths Chyler takes, Lexa wonders if it'll be their baby that falls asleep on this couch a few years from now - Clarke carrying it around in a sling, insisting on helping around with their sleepy baby strapped to her chest.

Treacherous, powerful images flood her mind without her permission.

Clarke sipping tea in the morning light and singing soothing lullabies to her baby bump. Both her and Clarke taking a Sunday afternoon to paint the nursery room and ending up cuddling in the rocking chair. Waking up in the middle of the night to find a baby burrito sleeping in between them. Coming home after a long day in court to find Clarke cooking with a baby wrapped around her waist. Taking their toddler, all dressed up in fancy clothes, to the opening night of Clarke's gallery.

Then she realizes she doesn't even know if Clarke likes tea, if she wants to have kids - if what they have will last long enough for her to find out.

Her heart is heavy when Chyler half stumbles towards her, hugging her hello and dragging her to see what Santa put in her stockings. By the time Lincoln comes to the living room to call everyone for dinner, Lexa is sitting very unladylike on the floor, putting together a 1,000 piece puzzle that made Chyler so overwhelmed she has started shaking. They leave it where it is - she has half a mind to come back and finish it after dinner, maybe bring Clarke into it too - and Chyler hops to the dining room, making "hmm" noises at the wonderful smell coming from the table.

Lexa finds Clarke bringing the peas to the table and her heart aches all over again. She reaches out for the blonde and gives her a kiss on the cheek, placing a delicate hand on her stomach without even realizing what it meant. "How bad was it? Did she drill you? Are you okay?"

"Tell you in a moment," Clarke smiles and puts her hands on top of Lexa's, squeezing it lightly as she intertwines their fingers. The only thing that calms Lexa down for the moment is Clarke's thumb caressing the back of her hand as they take their seats.

Lexa seats down to the left of Eudoxia, who takes the head of the table, and Clarke seats right beside her. They watch as everyone takes their seats - Lincoln in front of them, with Chyler insisting on sitting beside Octavia, Roan beside his daughter and Anya to Clarke's right. They take a moment to fill the glasses with wine - and the special occasion required orange juice instead of milk for Chyler - before Eudoxia rises to her feet, saying a few words about Christmas and how blessed they are for having food and friends to share it with.

It all lasts if a full minute before she demands that everyone dig in because she "didn't slave in the kitchen to waste time talking".

Clarke chuckles as she starts making her plate, asking Octavia for the mashed potatoes before she leans towards Lexa. "Babe," the nickname almost makes Lexa throw peas everywhere - it's startling to hear it said in such an intimate whisper, among so many people. "You can relax, you know? Me and your mom, it went fine." Clarke sets a hand on her thigh to calm her, casually passing the potatoes as she draws circles on Lexa's skin with her thumb, "She asked normal things - where I'm from, what do I work with, how we met," she leans further in and crinkles her nose as she takes the peas from Lexa, whispering in a teasing tone, "She said you wouldn't give her the juicy details and I'm pretty sure she's damn right about that."

Lexa stares at a pea rolling to the edge as Clarke spoons some of it onto her plate. Her mom isn't wrong, she'd probably have dismissed it as none of her business in the most polite way, "Well, yeah. What did you say?"

She bites her lips as Clarke lifts her plate for Lincoln to put a thick slice of ham on top of her mashed potatoes. Lexa watches dumbfounded as Clarke picks up her plate as well for Lincoln to place a thin slice on the side - it feels domestic, it feels like something Octavia would do for Lincoln or Roan for Kelsey. It feels like they really have been a couple for almost a year.

Clarke reaches for the gravy boat and pours a generous portion on top of her ham, turning to ask Lexa with a gesture if she wants it too. Lexa nods and watches with a smile as Clarke leans in to pour it over her food as well, her fair skin so close to Lexa's she can feel the warmth emanating from her.

"I made sure she knew we're in love," Clarke whispers low enough that only Lexa can hear, passing the gravy boat to Eudoxia before she meets green eyes. Lexa's heart stumbles through the motion of pumping blood through her body and she focus instead on how close Clarke is - close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. "And that we've been in love from the moment you walked into my gallery. I'm pretty sure she knows I've loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you." Lexa forgets what breathing means and tears sting the back of her eyes. Clarke's words sound too sincere and it takes Lexa more effort than she cares to admit to stop herself from saying more than she's allowed. "We make a pretty convincing fairytale, if you ask me."

Clarke winks at Lexa as she gets passed the stuffing, busying herself with spooning it onto her plate and Lexa couldn't be more glad for the moment to put herself together. She smiles at Clarke even if the blonde can't see her - a silent thanks for coming up with such a nice story, for putting up with her mom's questions, for making this evening much easier on her than it should've been.

If her heart aches at how true everything Clarke says really is, she pretends not to notice it.

Lincoln hands Clarke the brussel sprouts and she makes a face, readily passing it down the table again before turning to Lexa. "By the way, would it be okay if I got her address in Canada? Or even your firm's if, well," the 'if you don't feel comfortable giving out your mom's address to an escort' is implied in her tone and the way her eyes grow wide for a moment. Lexa wants to say something, but she falls short, "I'd like to send her a painting. One of my own. I've got a pretty good idea of what I want it to be, but I think you'll all be back in Canada when I'm done with it."

Feeling the back of her eyes starting to sting again, Lexa quickly blinks away her tears, smiling at a nervous Clarke biting into her lower lip. Her voice gets caught in her throat as she squeaks out a hum of agreement, nodding. "God, you- you're everything," the words fall from her lips before she realizes they've formed at all. Lexa leans in, capturing Clarke's lips into hers as a stubborn tear fall down her cheek.

The kiss lasts but a second. "Hands off your lady, Lexa! We're eating," Anya makes grossed out noises and Chyler laughs heartily. Clarke joins in, chuckling at being called out like this, and reaches out to wipe the tear away from Lexa's skin. Lexa leans into the touch and is about to kiss her again when Anya shouts, "Can I please have the yam?"

Lexa settles for a kiss on her cheek, turning to the food in front of her. Her sheepish smile remains stuck in her lips as she gets herself some carrots and glazed onions, and for once, she doesn't mind the teasing it'll earn her. She looks around the table, noticing the comfortable and warm silence that always happens when everyone has their mouths full.

Bursts of conversation erupts here and there. Chyler is a constant chatter, talking about wanting to play with the snow after dinner and showing all her aunties how good she's gotten with her ballet moves. Octavia entertains her, asking about what moves she likes to do the most, and Lexa can't help but think she'll be a great mom. It's still hard to wrap her mind around the fact that they'll have a baby in the table next Christmas. Her mind wanders - she pictures the baby snuggled in a little elf outfit, with hat and all, falling asleep in Clarke's arms as she rocks it to sleep by the fireplace.

A moan beside her takes her out of her reverie - Clarke rolls her eyes as she bites into the cheddar biscuits Lincoln made. Lexa laughs at the sight and they quickly fall into an argument barely disguised as a conversation about how both Lincoln and Eudoxia can cook so well and Lexa can't even boil water without ruining it. She tries to be offended at all the arguments the blonde come up with, but it's hard to take her serious when she has mashed potatoes on her hair.

"Clarke, honey," Eudoxia calls her and Lexa quickly drops the hand that she had reached out to fix Clarke's hair, feeling almost as if she has been caught doing something she shouldn't. But Clarke gracefully turns her attention to her mom, who seems only interested in getting to know the blonde. "Your family didn't mind you spending the holidays without them? Or are you two spending Christmas day with your folks?

"Actually, we're spending just the two of us," Clarke drifts her gaze from Eudoxia to Lexa, her smile growing into one Lexa can swear is meant just for her, "It's our first Christmas together so we thought we could create some traditions for ourselves, you know?"

"Oh, you're not seeing them at all?" Eudoxia pops a carrot into her mouth, drawing Clarke's eyes back to her. She sounds conversational, almost worried about it - deep down Lexa knows it's merely a question, that her mother couldn't possibly know the wound she's poking at, but her common sense seems to fly out the window whenever Clarke is involved.

"Mom." Her voice is sharp and there's a threat disguised as warning underlying the single word. Lexa drops her hand to Clarke's thigh, calling her attention as she turns to the blonde, knitting her eyebrows in worry, "You don't have to answer this."

"No, it's fine," Clarke whispers and sets her hand on top of Lexa's, nodding slightly before turning to Eudoxia, "My dad died when I was starting college and after that, my relationship with my mother kinda fell apart. I couldn't pretend to be someone I was not and she could never understand that." Her words are carefully measured - she isn't lying, but it can be interpreted in a different way from the real one. It's easy to jump to the conclusion her mother doesn't accept her being gay. But Lexa heart warms at the sight of Clarke opening up to her family like that. "I spent most Christmas alone ever since. I'm just happy I have someone to spend it with this time."

Lexa squeezes her thigh under the table, a silly smile on her lips as she presses them to Clarke's temple. She doesn't miss the way Clarke leans into her kiss, closing her eyes ever so briefly and breathing out heavily. It may be a white lie and spending Christmas Eve with them may be a burden, but Lexa's heart lights up regardless.

Eudoxia reaches out, taking Clarke's free hand into hers. "You'll always have a place to spend Christmas now. And Thanksgiving. All the holidays. You're family now." Lexa feels Clarke intertwining their fingers and holding her hand tighter. She watches for a moment all the emotions that play across Clarke's face, her teeth coming to bite her lip that insists in spreading into a smile and stubborn tears filling her eyes despite her efforts to blink them away. Lexa squeezes her hand back, glancing at her mom and mouthing 'thank you'. Eudoxia smiles back at them, before letting go of Clarke's hand and feigning seriousness. "Now, let's talk business. What do you think about having children? I'm not getting any younger."

"Jesus, Mom," Lexa almost jumps out of her body. She hasn't had the guts to bring the subject with Clarke yet, she certainly doesn't want to discuss it in front of her entire family. She can hear Anya laughing at them, and before the blonde has the chance to butt in, Lexa blurts out, "Lincoln is the married one. Ask him and stop trying to scare my girlfriend away."

It takes her half a second to remember they are expecting a child already and she might have put them in an awkward situation to free herself of one.

But Lincoln smiles at her, as if she orchestrated the perfect setup, and gets up from his chair. "Actually, mom," he seems almost worried, but the happiness shines through everything else he might be feeling. Octavia hugs him by the waist, leaning against his shoulder as he goes on, "Octavia and I have something to tell you."

It's pretty clear what the news is when they both touch her belly, a bump only noticeable if you know what you're looking for.

That's enough to almost give their mom a heart attack. She gets up, hand to her chest as she takes the full two steps until her grandchild is within reach of her eager fingers, "Oh my god, don't play with me."

Octavia launches into a full description of everything that is going on - from when they found out and how far along she is to how bad her morning sickness is and what names they're considering. Lexa breathes deeply and relaxes, glad to no longer be the target of her mom incessant questioning. It's only by the time her mom is demanding Octavia goes live with her for the first semester of the little bundle's life that Lexa feels bad for laughing.

Clarke leans against her shoulder to watch how happy everyone is and Lexa adjusts her position, squeezing her hand slightly before letting go so she can wrap her arm around Clarke's waist. It doesn't take long before Clarke finds Lexa's free hand and intertwine their fingers again, leaning in further against her to whisper "that could be us one day".

If she tears up, she pretends it's out of happiness for Lincoln and Octavia.

Lexa tugs Clarke closer, adjusting her hold on her waist when she feels the blonde molding herself against her chest. Her gaze drops from Octavia, who is currently holding a visibly crying Eudoxia, to watch Clarke watching them - she's radiant. Lexa watches the wrinkles pooling around Clarke's eyes as her smile grow bigger, the little hitch in her breath when Eudoxia says she's pretty sure they're going to have a boy, the laughter that ripples through her body when Octavia winks at her and says this time next year she'll be the one with a baby bump. Lexa wants to believe it, so she does.

Kissing the top of Clarke's head, Lexa grins like a mad woman when the blonde hums her approval, cuddling closer to Lexa and closing her eyes for a moment. She can't help but think that Clarke looks like she belongs exactly where she is - in Lexa's arms, playing with her fingers, smiling content.

Their little bubble is soon broken as Chyler starts asking for a little brother or sister - "no, auntie Octavia's baby doesn't count, I want you or dadda to be pregnant, daddy." - and everyone turns to see Roan's poor attempts at explaining how pregnancy works to his six year old. At the sight of Anya bursting out laughing with no sympathy for the guy, Clarke untangles herself from Lexa and turns to Chyler, talking to her in a high pitched voice about which one of her dads should be the one to get pregnant.

The pure, unadulterated love that fills Lexa's heart is more than anything she'd felt before - in that moment, it really feels like she could burst, like her chest isn't big enough for it all.

Clarke asks Roan if she can talk to his kid about the birds and the bees - he seems more beyond relief, clearly not wanting to be the one to give the girl that talk - and swings Chyler until the girl hooks her legs around her waist and they both march towards the living room. Lexa doesn't look away from the two until they disappear behind the wall separating the dining room, Chyler's curious voice asking big questions such as "where do babies come from?" filtering to her.

Lexa folds her arms in front of her, unsure of what to do with her hands now that they aren't holding Clarke.

She bites her lips at how vaguely familiar it all feels, like it happened a lifetime ago but somehow she can still remember some of it - missing someone she was holding two minutes ago, feeling her skin tingling at the memory of them, how heavy her stomach gets when she thinks about how incredible the other person is, the way her heart speeds up at the sound of their laughter. But along with the feeling of familiarity, come the scars.

Willing her heart to stop the incessant pounding against her ribs, Lexa tries and fails to compare what she feels for Clarke to what she feels - felt - for Costia. Her love for Costia was innocent and filled with utopian dreams that could never become true, even if she hadn't died. In some ways, her love for Clarke seems the same - she pictured the blonde pregnant a few moments ago and that's hardly within the realm of reality. But it feels so much different. It's not the same novelty romance that she had with Costia. It's deep and passionate, it's wild but comforting in a way she thought only existed in movies.

Her laugh bubbles in her chest and she fights it until only a smile show - if she's comparing what she feels for Clarke to movies, she's doomed beyond repair. She's digging her own grave and cherishing every sweet moment of it.

If she pushes her feelings aside, which is growing harder and harder to do, Lexa knows she'll lose Clarke. Coming New Year's, she and Clarke will have nothing bonding them together anymore, the blonde will leave and she'll go back to Canada. She'll go through hell trying to get over Clarke, but she knows what's coming - she knows her heart will break and ache, but she's willing to pay the price if it means she gets to hold Clarke for the next seven days.

But as she listens to Chyler's giggles and Clarke's soft voice filling the living room in a sing song tone, Lexa remembers Clarke's question, whispered in the dark and cold winter sunset, "is this real?"

Maybe, just maybe, she can dream impossibilities and have it come true after all.

A hand on her shoulder takes her out of her reverie and she's glad for it, snapping her head up to find her mother smiling at her, "Hi, mom."

Eudoxia takes the chair beside her daughter, giving her a warm smile as she speaks, "Hi, darling." Before her mom can say anything else, Lexa chuckles and glances towards the living room when a yelp filters to them, right before Clarke explodes into laughter. Eudoxia follows her gaze and glances back at her, noticing the grin on her face and giving her a knowing look, "You smile that wide when you hear her laughter. Oh, honey, you are in trouble."

Lexa lowers her head, trying to hide her smile that doesn't seem to be going away anytime soon, and uncrosses her arms, tangling her hands together on her lap. Yes, she is in trouble - much, much more trouble than her mom can even begin to understand. "I guess so."

She knows her dismissive tone gives her away and the tips of her ears burn in anticipation for all the teasing that is sure to come. Instead, her mom simply tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, tracing her fingers down until she cups Lexa's cheek. "You look happy," her voice is soft, almost choked, and Lexa looks up at her again.

"I am," her answer comes fast, as if she can't let her mother think even for a second that she's anything less than happy. It's her knee-jerk reaction to the question, it's been her go to every since she's surfaced back from the pit Costia's death had put her in. But she's surprised to realize how much truth those words hold, "For the first time in a long while, I really am happy, mom."

Eudoxia holds her face in between her palms, her tear filled eyes mapping every inch of Lexa's as if she's trying to commit to memory what her daughter looks like when she's happy. Lexa can't blame her mother, it's been years since she's been truly happy, felt this carefree, fallen this deep in love. Lexa can count in one hand, with fingers to spare, the times she's laughed near her mom in the last decade.

The moment lasts only long enough for Lexa to start getting teary eyed at the unmasked joy in her mom's face. Anya pops their little bubble with a yell from the living room, calling them to join everyone else because they're going to "have some drinks to annoy Octavia".

It takes Lexa two seconds after she walks into the living room to find Clarke's eyes - from her spot on the floor, near the forgotten puzzle, the blonde smiles at her, wrinkling her nose and making a silly face before turning back to Chyler and whispering something. Lexa sighs happily, her stomach fluttering with the soft gesture, and turns to join the conversation in the other side of the room.

Before she can pick up what they're discussing, Lincoln kisses the top of Octavia's head and untangles himself from her, assuring her he'll be right back when she grunts her discontentment and walking towards Lexa.

"Ten bucks says Octavia throws up her dinner," he says in a theatrical whisper and Lexa rolls her eyes. Finding Octavia a little separated from the other three chatting in the couch, Lexa has to agree she looks greener than before.

"Should you really be betting against your wife?" Lexa folds her arms on her chest, once again finding herself lost without Clarke in them, and raises her eyebrows at him in judgement.

Lincoln shrugs, stuffing his hands into his back pockets and giving Lexa a nudge with his elbow. She rolls her eyes again - sometimes it feels like they're two kids teasing each other and it finally feels normal again. Her eyes drift towards Clarke without her permission and her smile widens when Chyler climbs on Clarke's lap. Lincoln nudges her again to call her attention, and it barely works, "She's great, Lex."

At that, she does turn back to her brother, the smile on her face never wavering. She bites her lips before nodding, her voice soft and so full of love, "She really is." Lexa looks over her shoulder, finding Clarke helping Chyler get up, and she realizes she wants that - she wants Clarke and she wants a child and she wants an entire life with the blonde. "Clarke is something else."

Lincoln squeezes her shoulder, "Then hold on to her." His voice is soft, but when she looks at him, Lexa finds an urgency in his eyes she didn't expect, "You don't find many people who are something else."

He looks at Octavia and something seems to click inside Lexa, "You held on to yours." She states more than asks and Lincoln nods, a loving smile growing in his lips.

The soft tap tap tap of bare tiny feet against the carpet calls her attention and Lexa turns just in time to see Chyler running to Roan, climbing on top of his lap before stating with all the pomp a six year old can muster, "Daddy, we should get a sorrow cat for it to give us a baby. It's a thing. Clarke told me."

Roan's confused "what" fills the room and it takes a moment for Lexa to realize she meant to say surrogate - what kind of talk did Clarke have with this girl? Eudoxia bursts out in a giggling fit and Anya pries Chyler to know more about this sorrow cat and how would it bring her a baby, her face so serious Lexa almost believes she actually meant all that curiosity.

Lexa is so engrossed in Chyler's excited babbling that she barely notices Clarke creeping in beside her until her hand settles in the small of her back. "Can I steal you for a moment?" her voice is low and Lexa almost melts when her breath hits her neck, her arm wrapping around Lexa's waist more possessively.

It takes all Lexa has got to simply nod.

They slip outside while everyone is paying attention to the wild story Chyler has come up with, walking in the dark with their bodies pressed closed together. Lexa wants to ask why they need to be outside for this - a spare room with a working heater would have worked just fine - but she doesn't want to disturb this peace that settles within her, letting Clarke lead them.

Gritting her teeth to keep her jaw from shaking with how cold the night has gotten, Lexa half wants to ask for the blanket Clarke has gotten from the back of the couch and is currently draped over the arm not holding Lexa's waist. Instead, she crosses her arms and leans in a bit more into Clarke's embrace, her warmth being a comfort.

They walk past the patio they had argued on before and the spot where they kissed, onto the snow covered grass that crackles under their feet. Clarke tightens her hold on Lexa as they approach the trees in the backyard that form a little grove - Lexa should've known her mom would like a place like that to stay the holidays.

Lexa wants to ask how Clarke could possibly know there were trees with a clear pathway for them to walk through, but it feels wrong to verbalize anything. She strains her eyes to see through the woods, night pollution coming from the city behind them being their only source of light as they emerge in a clearing.

"How- how did you know about this?" The words fall from Lexa's lips before she can think them through - or if she really wants an answer at all - as she takes in the lake, hidden away behind a handful of tightly planted trees. Seeing a lake in the middle of New York is something that takes her breath away and Lexa takes a step forward, taking in the frozen surface of it, the way the grass grows wild around it, looking as untouched by the man as it could.

Feeling Clarke hugging her from behind, the blanket thrown over her shoulders in a way that covers them both, Lexa leans back, grateful for the warmth that surrounds her and content to be there forever - wrapped in Clarke's arms, under a heavy sky, in the middle of a grove.

Clarke's voice is small and almost hard when she answers against Lexa's shoulder, "I've been here before, with a cli- with someone else." Oh. Lexa swallows thickly, but lets Clarke snuggle further into her, pulling the blanket tighter around them both. The brutality of the twist in her stomach surprises her more than the fact that Clarke knows this at all, but she focus on enjoying the silence and the feel of Clarke against her back. It's a long moment before Clarke speaks again, her voice softer this time, "They love you, Lex. They'll love whoever you bring home, as long as she makes you happy." She kisses Lexa's neck, just under her ear, whispering the next words as if talking at a normal voice would upset the balance of that heavenly place, "They just want to see you happy."

"I don't know how to do that anymore," the deep sorrow in her voice takes her aback - she hadn't meant to sound so desolate and she sags against Clarke, almost defeated.

Clarke adjusts her hold on her, finding a way to wrap her arms around her waist while still keeping the blanket on both of them. "You'll learn. You'll find someone who makes it easy to be happy, who makes you wonder how you could ever feel differently." Something inside Lexa twists and turns in discomfort at having to realize the one thing she's been fighting to forget, but Clarke presses on, "You just need to open yourself a little bit, be willing to recognize her when she comes along." What if I already found her? What if she's you? The truth Lexa has been hiding from hits her with so much force that tears fill her eyes, blurring her vision as she tries to blink them away. "You deserve that happiness. You deserve the world." Clarke's voice is soft against her skin and Lexa believes her, "And I'm telling you. As long as you're happy, they'll love her."

Closing her eyes and letting her tears roll down her cheeks, Lexa runs her hands down Clarke's forearms until she can link her fingers, as loosely as their position allows her. She takes a deep, ragged breath in, "What if-" her voice comes out choked, the emotion written in it in bright neon lights, but Lexa forces herself to push the words out - all at once, before she loses her courage, "What if I already found her? What if I found the girl I love and I can't wait to get married to her and have a family together, grow old side by side and build something worth remembering? What if I found the one that makes me want to do something bigger with my life than just working, that makes me find happiness in the simplest things in life?"

Her breath comes out in a trembly puff, her lower lip shaking with how much strength it's taking her to not break apart and beg Clarke to love her back.

Clarke doesn't answer her for a long while and the lull in the conversation makes all kinds of regret surface in Lexa's heart. But Clarke seems to sense how nervous she is, must feel her heart hammering against her ribcage, and kisses a path down her neck until her breathing returns to something akin to normal.

"Tell her," Clarke's voice is muffled against her skin, it's so small she can barely hear it, "Lexa, if someone makes you feel like this, you need to take a shot at it and let her know." Clarke squeezes Lexa's fingers once and loosens her grip around her only enough for her to notice the change. "Stop wasting your time with me and go get your girl."

Lexa can't tell if Clarke's voice really is as broken as it falls to her ears or if it's just her wishful thinking.

Letting go completely of Clarke's fingers and pushing all the fear that bubbles in her chest aside, Lexa turns in her arms, meeting blue eyes that look almost grey in the pale light that filters in. She's half aware of the path her tears left on her cheek, but she can't find it in her to care as Clarke splays her hands across the middle of her back, pressing ever so slightly until Lexa takes a step forward. The blanket hangs on Clarke's shoulders by pure miracle and Lexa lets her fingers trail up to the nape of her neck, intertwining in thin blonde hair.

Her eyes drop to Clarke's mouth before falling closed, letting her senses guide her. Lexa smiles softly when their noses bump, hovers her mouth over Clarke's without giving in, drawing back when the blonde leans in - she's taking her time, she wants this to tell something.

Their lips touch so softly it's barely a kiss at all, but it makes them both sigh into it. Lexa lets go of her hair and traces her fingertips against Clarke's neck until she's cupping both her cheeks, pressing their lips in a proper kiss. Clarke catches Lexa's bottom lip in between hers at the same time her hands come to rest on Lexa's elbows, holding onto it for balance as Lexa presses back.

They don't deepen the kiss, it's merely lips moving against lips but it feels more intimate than anything they've had together so far.

Lexa breaks the kiss when it becomes too much - if she needs to keep what she feels inside, she needs to stop. They breathe each other in for a moment, noses resting on cheeks as they wait for the post kissing haze to lift.

"What was that for?" Clarke whispers, a cloud forming in the air in between them. Lexa leans back, giving herself space to breathe in the cold air in an attempt to clear her mind and opening her eyes to find Clarke with hers still closed, her lips still puckered in a pout that Lexa wants to kiss away.

"Because I", Lexa stops mid sentence, lets the words roll on her tongue, forming the shape of each syllable. She tastes the sweetness of it, the bitter tones, the impossibleness of it ever being reciprocated, and bites them back. "Because you're you".

When Clarke finally opens her eyes, Lexa can't read the look they give her.

As if they were an old couple that can communicate without any words, they silently agree to go back inside. Clarke drapes the blanket over both their shoulders and wrap her arm around Lexa again, keeping her close as they walk back the same battered path, the frozen grass cracking under their shoes being the only sound filling the air.

The warmth that greets them as they walk back inside is welcome, but it does make Lexa long for her huge hotel bed with more pillows than she knows what to do with - she tries not to think about how much she wants to climb into Clarke's bed right now, how much she wants to fall asleep among art.

As soon as they step into the living room, Anya nudges Chyler to sing 'just like they practiced' and the little girl starts singing off key, grinning so wildly she can barely form the words, "Lexa and Clarke sitting in the tree!" Anya tickles her until Chyler is off her lap, mixing her letters as she sings and runs away at the same time, "K-i-n-g-s-s-s-i-n-g!"

Lexa gives into the teasing and chases after her, pretending to be mad, "You cheeky girl, come back here!". It doesn't take long for her to catch Chyler, tackling her to the ground and tickling her so much the girl gets the hiccups, but doesn't stop laughing.

Roan comes over to pick up his daughter and give her some water, and Lexa is almost worried if she went to far, but Chyler waves at her from over her dad's shoulder, still laughing through the hiccups. Lexa walks back to where Anya and Clarke are standing and watching it all unfold - she notices Clarke giggling, her cheeks blushed, and Lexa's heart melts again.

"You two look like you want one of those," Anya narrows her eyes at both of them, crossing her arms in a way that she thinks makes her look threatening - Lexa knows very well that pose, she's seen her use it in the courtroom often enough to recognize it anywhere.

Lexa places herself behind Clarke, wrapping her arms around her waist and leaning her chin against her shoulder. She relaxes when Clarke sinks into her and puts her hands on top of hers, and Lexa raises her eyebrows at Anya, "One of what?"

Anya leans in towards them, whispering in the most theatrical way she can muster, "A baby."

Rolling her eyes, Lexa is ready to retort and dismiss the idea completely, but Clarke tightens her hold on her hands and smiles, "Maybe one day." Lexa looks at her questioningly and Clarke doesn't give her any answers, only snuggles further into her embrace.

If that's how they're faking it, she could do it forever.

Their silent talking is met with gagging sounds from Anya, "You two are very gross." She makes a disgusted face and waves her hands for them to part. All Lexa can force herself to do is move to stand beside Clarke, but keeping her hands around her waist still - which seems to be good enough for Anya, as she continues, "And my girlfriend is finally getting here tomorrow. We need to get together so our ladies can meet and I can rub in your face how we can be gross too."

"I think we can do lunch the day after Christmas?" Lexa turns to Clarke, frowning as she asks with a glance if it works for her - they had agreed on taking two "days off" and only meeting again for the dinner with the new associates on the 27th.

Clarke nods and Anya claps her hands, "Great, I'm putting it on your phone so you don't ditch me to cuddle all day." She reaches for Lexa's clutch on the corner of the couch, looking for her phone in the cluttered space, "Is your password still the same?"

"Yeah," Lexa says without thinking, paying too much attention to the way Clarke's thumb draws lazy circles around her wrist bone to notice the smirk on Anya's face when she finally fishes her phone from the clutch. Lexa leans in and presses a kiss on Clarke's temple, her voice almost muffled as she teases Anya, "Do you want to bet who's more in love? Because you're going to lose."

Anya pays no attention to her mocking, bringing Lexa's phone closer to her face so she can double check what she sees on the screen, "Do you really have a couple selfie as your lockscreen?" Anya bursts out laughing as she punches in the password, "You, Alexandra Woods, have a couple selfie as you- god, can you two be any more gross?"

Heat creeps up Lexa's neck and she bites her lip, trying to think of something to say - she doesn't quite understand her need to defend herself, the whole point of making that selfie her lockscreen was to sell the part better. But Clarke seems unaffected as she reaches laughs it off and reaches for her own clutch, pulling out her phone and lighting up the screen before turning it to Anya, "Yeah, our lockscreens match."

They bid their goodbyes as soon as Roan takes a sleepy Chyler up the stairs, still hiccuping every other step. It's different from the goodbyes Lexa has grown used to - instead of "you look lonely, honey" from her mother, she gets "you two have a merry first Christmas together," instead of "stop working during holidays" from Lincoln, she gets a tight hug and him asking Clarke, in the most serious voice she's heard all evening, to take good care of his little sister.

Lexa scoffs at the tough big brother act Lincoln has put up, but Clarke takes him seriously, "I will, I swear."

It feels awfully familiar, driving to the hotel with Clarke's hand on her thigh, her own hand on top of hers, linking their fingers lazily together as she reclines on the passenger seat. Her eyes close on their own accord every once in awhile, and she leans in to kiss Clarke at almost every red light. It feels familiar in a way that should be, but is nonetheless.

They don't talk much during the ride - they don't have to, the silence is comfortable and welcome, the muffled roaring from the engine winding them both down from the night they had. They set up a time for Clarke to pick Lexa up on the 26th and talk about how lovely Chyler is, her presence there a sweet surprise for both of them, but besides that, they simply enjoy being together in silence.

Clarke parks right in front of the hotel door, Christmas Eve having apparently drawn everyone out, and she climbs out of her car to walk Lexa to the door. It's an excuse Lexa accepts without a second thought, even if the hotel door is barely three steps away from the curb.

Shoving one hand on her coat pocket and gripping her clutch with the other so tight her knuckles turn white, Lexa waits for Clarke to say something - say goodbye, ask if she can stay, anything. This silence is different from the one in the car, is heavy and full of expectations, and Lexa feels her heart beating in her throat, having to remind herself that it can't literally jump out of her body.

"Don't work yourself too hard," Clarke finally says, her voice as soft as the look she gives Lexa, who can only find enough strength in herself to nod, once. It doesn't seem to convince Clarke, who raises an eyebrow as she pushes, "Promise?"

"I won't," Lexa answers in a high pitched voice, smiling at Clarke's serious nod of approval, "I'll probably end up eating chinese and trying to read that awful book you seem to like."

Scoffing in pure indignation, Clarke looks almost personally offended at Lexa's remark. "It's a classic, come on. Russian literature is super fun."

Lexa allows her smile to grow until her eyes are almost closed, shaking her head as a thought invades her mind without her consent - "my girlfriend is a huge nerd". Half of her wants to keep talking, to invite Clarke inside where they can actually discuss their wildly different taste in literature, or just keep her there for a little longer, hold on to this moment just a bit more. But she sees the blonde starting to shiver in the cold winter night, her coat forgotten inside her car. She swallows thickly before she asks, her voice almost overwhelmed by how loud the wind is in the street, "Can I get a hug goodbye?"

Without saying anything, Clarke wraps her arms around Lexa's shoulders, pressing her entire body against her. It takes Lexa a moment to react, to take her hand out of her pocket and hug her back - but then, it's all she can do. She grips at the thin fabric of Clarke's blouse, burying her face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. "Merry Christmas, Lex," Clarke whispers against her shoulder, giving her a kiss on the cheek before breaking the hub and hurrying back to the street.

"Merry Christmas," her words go unheard as Clarke climbs back into her car, leaving Lexa standing alone on the sidewalk, her conflicted heart pounding painfully against her ribs.