Shadow Boxer

by Random Little Duckling

Lexa is a semi-professional MMA fighter and works at a gym with her friend Lincoln as personal trainer. She lives with her former foster sister Anya who is as teasing and as annoying as any normal older sister. Clarke has just started her third year pre-med and is busy with her studies. Her roommates and friends Octavia and Raven try to get her to have a little more fun.

10. Chapter 10- All Up In The Club (Part II)

Chapter 10 – All Up In The Club (Part II)

"How're you doing, Clarke?" Roan asks as he comes up to the counter. Her old and now new boss smiles at her as she prepares a Cappuccino, the machine hissing loudly as it dispenses the milk foam into the take-away cup. He looks exactly the same as the last time Clarke saw him, although his hair might be even longer now.

When Clarke first came to work at the Pilot House in her first year at the University of Portland, she thought Roan was the strangest choice to manage a Coffee House. He was tan, had long hair with beads braided into it and always, without fail, wore flip flops. He looked more like a chill surfer dude who'd be at home at a beach in California with his pot smoking friends, playing the bongos in the sun, than a responsible manager of a campus coffee house. And yet, there he was, his deep, rumbling voice soothing as a tiger kitten's purr – as Raven liked to put it – and his friendly demeanor the first thing you noticed when he walked into a room.

"It's as if she never left." Christie answers in her stead, coming back from the storage room, and Clarke smiles at her. The two of them used to work together when Clarke worked here before, and truly their dynamic hasn't changed one bit. Sarcastic and always quick with a pun, Christie never fails to make Clarke laugh and when they're on shift together it doesn't really feel like work. Well, it still feels like work and they complain to each other a lot about anything and everything, but it's a lot of fun, too. Clarke was glad to find out that her former colleague was still working at the Pilot House and it made the decision to come back to work here a lot easier. She even looked forward to it a bit and not just because she needs the money.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad you came back." He nods at Clarke.

"It's good to be back." She replies in kind and they share a smile, before Roan slaps his hands onto the counter surface and takes a big breath.

"Alright, I'm off. I gotta talk to a guy about a goat!" he wiggles his eyebrows excited and then shoots them his usual lazy, two-fingered salute. After he's gone Christie and Clarke share a look. Clarke has to smirk. He's such a character, that man. Knowing him, the 'goat' he was talking about is probably just the ice-maker Christie told Clarke he wanted to get for the coffee house, but with Roan you never knew for sure.

"So how's everything going with the girls?" Christie asks as Clarke places the Cappuccino and two espressos onto the trey. "You still living with Raven and Octavia?"

"Yeah!" Clarke nods and bends down to pick up the dishtowel that just slipped from her shoulder. "Nothing has really changed to be honest. Still living with the girls, still being killed by my pre-med competition, still freaking out about the future, you know, the usual." She shrugs, but smiles.

Christie chuckles and nods her head. "Yeah, same here. It's like the last year never happened. Oh! I got a flying squirrel though."

Clarke freezes on the spot and then bobs her head back. "You got a what now?" she asks, thinking she must have misheard.

"Yeah!" Christie says in lieu of answering the question. "He's so cute, Clarke, seriously! His name is Doug."

"Doug the flying squirrel." Clarke repeats in a deadpan voice.

"Yes. Doug Mortimer Haraldson the First." Christie nods importantly and then she scoops up the trey and walks off with it, leaving Clarke standing behind the counter; a little baffled, but overall just very amused.

---

It's almost half past 9 pm when Clarke arrives home at the apartment. She's happy, but exhausted, and kind of hopes that either Raven or Octavia cooked and that she may get a quiet night to relax. The latter hope quickly goes out the window however, when she hears loud shouts coming from inside, before she even unlocks the apartment door.

"That is not how you do it, oh my god!"

"Get your hands the fuck off my shaker! Raven! Ra-ven!"

"Just let me- Ou, hey! I was just going to show you how to do it the right way!"

"Well, I wanna figure it out myself! So sit down and shut up!"

"No need to get violent, jeez!" Raven huffs and Clarke sees her rubbing her right hand with her left as she closes the door behind herself.

Octavia is standing in their kitchen behind the counter peninsula and Clarke internally groans as her first hope vanishes in a puff of metaphorical smoke as well. It doesn't look like anybody has cooked in that kitchen today and by the looks of it nobody will for a while either. It's a complete and utter mess. Bottles of alcohol and juice are scattered on every surface, and sprawled out between them are different colored slices of various fruits. Their mixer looks like it went to hell and back and Clarke is kind of afraid to see the floor. She's sure Octavia must have spilled something, judging by the way her shirt looks.

Sitting across from Octavia are Raven and her friend Jay, who seems to be the only one noticing Clarke's arrival and nods and waves at her, before going back to watching Raven trying to pour some more juice into Octavia's shaker without getting caught. She almost manages, too, since Octavia is distracted looking down at what Clarke guesses are instructions on her phone, but then Raven's bar stool creaks and Octavia's head shoots up.

"Cut it out!" she immediately snaps and pulls the silver shaker out of Raven's reach, which results in even more of a mess as Raven spills the juice onto the counter instead.

"Raven! Oh my g-" Octavia jumps back just in time to avoid soaking her shirt in even more colorful liquids.

"Now, look what you've done!" Raven clicks her tongue.

"What I've done? Are you fucki-"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Clarke shouts over both of them and three heads snap up to look at her. "What the hell are you guys doing? Is that my good towel?"

She just spotted her favorite towel hanging wet and dripping over the handle of their oven and she doesn't know if she wants to laugh or cry or ground them both. Sometimes she feels like she's a single mother of two in this household.

As if on cue Raven and Octavia immediately start accusing each other and Clarke pinches the bridge of her noise as she drops her keys in the bowl next to the door and lets her backpack slip off her shoulders. Even if she tried she couldn't filter what her roommates are saying right now, it's all just noise. Loud, annoying noise.

By the time she put her dad's winter jacket onto their clothes tree the two have started arguing among each other again instead of trying to hang each other out to dry in front of Clarke and Clarke is ready to ignore them and just quickly grab a snack and flee to her room, but then she spots Raven sipping on her cocktail and stops in her tracks.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be drinking yet, Raven!" she frowns and speed walks over to the peninsula herself. She can't believe her roommates. She gets that Octavia wants to practice for her trial run at Grounders on Saturday, but Dr. Kane explicitly said no alcohol for at least two weeks and it's barely been five days.

"They're virgins." Octavia clears up just then and Clarke swallows the next line of reprimand she was prepared to lecture them with.

Raven snorts. "They're wrong."

Octavia glares at her, but Raven only closes her lips around her red straw and avoids her eyes.

Both Raven and Octavia have been bickering more than usual since the three of them got back from Seattle the other day and Clarke has about had it up to here. She can't deal with her two friends being at each other's throats over every little thing all the time anymore. Yes, Raven is still in pain and yes, Octavia has been home with her the most, having to deal with her moods, but Clarke is all out of fucks to give. She just wants some peace and quiet.

Clarke notices Jay smiling happily, sipping on her own drink, and is sure that her cocktails at least are in no way virgins.

With a sigh Clarke steps over someone's purse and crosses the kitchen. As she expected the floor is a sticky mess, but she can't be bothered to be any more annoyed than she already is. She just wants to eat; she's starving.

"Do we have any food?" she asks over her shoulder as she opens the fridge. The coolness feels nice against her face and she can't wait to get out of her day clothes and put on something more comfortable in her room that isn't rain forest temperature. Raven always overheats.

"Don't know." Raven mumbles.

"There's some left-over Thai I think." Jay offers, but Octavia hums in disagreement.

"We gave that to you, Jay, remember? Like two hours ago?"

Jay starts giggling. "Oh, right. Forgot. Sorry."

"Nevermind, I got it." Clarke grumbles, not even sure if the others would hear. Suddenly in a bad mood, she pulls out a half eaten jar of cheese dip. She still has some Tortilla Chips in her room, she thinks. That'll have to do.

She wants to remind Raven and Octavia to clean up when they're done, but doesn't want to start another discussion. Instead she just skips past the three girls without another word and vanishes into her room, picking up her backpack on the way.

As she closes the door behind her, Clarke lets her shoulders slump. Tiredness is seeping into her body like milk into one of the coffees she prepared all afternoon and her bed seems to call to her. She can't believe it's only Tuesday.

On the way to her beckoning mattress she trips over a pile of books and instantly the image of a certain brunette pops into her mind. 'You have so many books! There's just a lot of books!'... 'It's messy.'

Chuckling softly at the memory, Clarke sinks into her pillows. Lexa was so flustered, trying to back paddle and not offend Clarke. It was really cute. Lexa is really cute. And hot. Clarke doesn't need Raven to tell her that, although Raven apparently can't stop herself from frequently bringing up the fighter's attractiveness. Something tugs in Clarke's stomach and she puts down the cheese dip she just opened. She doesn't really feel like it anymore.

Now that her mind has found its way back to memories of Lexa Clarke's thoughts seem to have taken on a life of their own. They lead her to image after image of Lexa; swerving to avoid a punch from a red headed fighter in the octagon, twitching when that Anya girl touched the cloth to her bust-open face, appearing in Clarke's kitchen, carrying a case of beer with only one hand, standing in front of Clarke in her room, close enough to touch, with darkness all around them.

She feels her heartbeat pick up as she thinks back to how Lexa swallowed when Clarke asked her to dance at the Halloween party. When she reached out for Lexa, she saw the other woman's throat bob and just like then, the skin of the back of her neck starts tingling at the memory.

Suddenly restless, Clarke sits up. She huffs out a heavy breath and presses the palms of her hands against her eyes.

Study. She needs to study.

Even though her body screams at her to let it rest, Clarke heaves herself off the bed and crosses the small distance to her desk.

The rest of the evening goes by fast.

Raven and Octavia knock on her door once and offer her a virgin Piña Colada – "It's seriously her best work. I totally approve! I mean, of course I helped, but-" "Shut up, Raven." – but other than that the apartment is quiet and Clarke is left alone.

She can't even hear Raven's loud music when the girl goes to shower and Clarke almost feels bad for having been so annoyed by her friends earlier. She promises herself to lighten up a bit more. Even when Raven and Octavia are bickering like there's no tomorrow.

When Clarke finally goes to bed she falls asleep faster than she has in a while. She only wakes once, but the echoing images of superhuman-sized cocktail umbrellas singing the Folgers Coffee Jingle to her in Alvin and the Chipmunks voices lulls her right back to sleep.

---

"No, no, Eric that's not what I said. What the hell would I need six hundred packs of straws for?!"

Anya stops dead and lets out a frustrated growl, spanning the width of her forehead with the fingers of her left hand, while she presses the phone against her neck with her other. Then she takes a deep breath and brings it back up to her ear. "Listen, no, hon, it's fine. Just get me Aisha on the phone? Please."

Turning around to Lexa who's been strolling behind her since Eric, Anya's 'straw guy', finally called her back just when they entered the park, Anya shakes her head. 'I'm surrounded by idiots.' She mouths, before someone on the other end apparently speaks and she's back to business.

Looking down to jokingly share a look with Gramps, Lexa is happily surprised to see him already staring back at her, tongue lolling and eyes twinkling, and she has to laugh.

At the sound, Gramps' tail wagging increases and his tongue licks over his mouth excitedly.

Still smiling, she reaches down and scratches behind the dog's right ear, making it wiggle back and forth a little. Gramps closes his eyes contentedly until something draws his attention and he looks to his right, ears pricked. Lexa follows his line of sight and sees a small girl chasing her dog, squealing in delight. The girl can't be much older than four years and it happens more than once that one of the large dog's sharp turns causes her to stumble and fall, but she gets right back up again.

The second Lexa spots her, she stops dead in her tracks.

A sudden cold feeling is spreading through her body and she quickly looks away, heart pounding.

When she tries to swallow, her throat is painfully constricted. Her chest feels way too tight. Her eyes are stinging. No. Don't think about it. Don't.

She presses her lips together to regain some composure, but now she can feel them trembling and it only makes her feel even more horribly shaky and out of control. Clenching her jaw, she tries her best to push everything away. All the feelings, all the guilt, all the memories, all the pain.

She doesn't even notice that she's been hugging her arms around herself until Anya turns around. She seems ready to rant again like before, but when she sees Lexa, her entire expression changes immediately. Her eyebrows knit together and the hand that still had her phone raised to about shoulder level, slowly sinks down.

"What's wrong?" The words aren't spoken soothingly or in a worried, cooing voice. They're serious and sharp and designed to get the needed information as quickly as possible to form a plan; to gather intel for damage control. People would think that was something Lexa would do. Something she learned in the army. But way before Lexa ever joined the military, Anya was already diffusing situations and winning wars. Some people would say Anya let the foster system turn her cold and harsh, but those people don't know Anya very well. The words don't sound harsh to Lexa at all; the way Anya frowns isn't grim. It's determined.

Whatever happened, Anya will know what to do. Whoever hurt Lexa, Anya will destroy them. Whatever broke, Anya will fix it. She always did; always does. But Anya can't fix this. Nobody can.

So Lexa does her damndest to swallow it all down. Down past her closed up throat into her frozen insides. Deep, deep down where nobody will ever find it again. Not even she.

"Nothing." The word sounds a little hollow, even to her, but not broken – at least not as broken as she feels – and Lexa is relieved. "I'm just cold."

She wraps her arms a little tighter around herself and pulls up her shoulders until her face is almost hidden up to her nose in her light scarf. It smells warm and familiar and Lexa takes just the tiniest bit of comfort in that. Her chest hurts a little less. Her heart pounds a little softer. But her throat still hurts as if someone punched it from the inside and in the back of her mind, way in the back, she's screaming.

She knows Anya isn't convinced. Lexa didn't expect her to be. But she lets it go.

Anya only lets Lexa know she isn't really fooled by letting a small but gruff hum resonate behind closed lips.

Then Lexa's 'big sister' wordlessly walks up to her and nonchalantly pulls the big hood of Lexa's fall jacket up and over her head until the world around her goes black and all sounds become slightly muffled versions of themselves.

"There. All fixed."

---

They were clearing away the dirty dishes into the dishwasher when Raven suggested they should surprise Octavia at her trial run shift at Grounders the next night.

Clarke's first instinct had been to interrupt Raven with an enthusiastic 'yes' before she could even finish the sentence, but she held herself back. She isn't sure why; Raven would most certainly love that. But somehow Clarke doesn't want her excitement to be quite so obvious. Maybe that's because she doesn't really want to have to explain that a big part of why she is so on board with the idea is because she knows Octavia's potential boss, the manager of Grounders, is Anya; the mysterious blonde Asian woman who was at Lexa's fight in Tacoma and who, according to Lincoln, is the fighter's roommate and somewhat of a best friend. And best friends visit each other at work…right?

She can't explain it, but even the mere chance that Lexa might show up at Grounders makes Clarke want to go there. Lexa intrigues her. It's as simple as that and yet it's also kind of complicated. There's a million questions linked to that 'simple' fact, but Clarke doesn't really want to get into them. All she knows is that she wants to see Lexa again and find out more about her. And so she will.

"Yeah okay, I'll tag along." She shrugs as if she would have been just as happy staying home studying or watching Netflix.

Raven's reaction is just as expected. "Cool! Alright, she's heading over there at 7 or something, but I think they're doing like all sorts of explanations and like getting to know the bar area and stuff, so I was thinking we'd hop over there around let's say 11? Midnight? Something like that. Or do you think there'll be too much going on by then? Or too little? Have you been to Grounders before? I think I went once, but I'm not sure. God, we need to go out more, I don't even know the club scene anymore! Do you think it'll be full? I mean, it's a Saturday so I guess for Anya's sake I'd hope so. And I mean it's no fun when the club is empty, so I guess for our sake we should hope for a big crowd, too. I just hope there's not too many people. I don't want some drunky to fall on my leg. "

Raven's rambling is almost hard to keep up with, but Clarke is kind of used to her friend's fast pace. Even if she seems to be gaining speed lately.

"I think 11 is fine. If it's not busy yet maybe that'll give O some time to hang out." Clarke points out, getting a dishwasher tab out from under the sink. As she puts it into the little square compartment Raven smacks her lips and nods, before closing the machine.

"Yeah, you're right, that's true."

"I'm a genius like that." Clarke jokes. Raven smiles happily at her and then boisterously pulls Clarke's face towards herself. She plants a loud kiss on Clarke's cheek and then pats her head.

"Yes you are. My little highbrow."

Clarke raises an eyebrow. She's not sure she likes that nickname. But she's been called worse, she guesses.

While Raven starts sorting their leftovers into Tupperware containers, Clarke turns on the Radio. Hailee Seinfeld's 'Most Girls' is playing and immediately both of them start singing along, grinning at each other.

"Most girls are smart and strong and beautiful,"

"Most girls work hard, go far, we are unstoppable. Ugh, I love this song." Raven exclaims, dancing from one corner of the kitchen to the other. She's still favoring her right leg from time to time, like right now as she's pushing past Clarke to get to the fridge, but Dr. Kane said that was to be expected and frankly Clarke is just glad that Raven is taking care of it as well as she is. Plus, she seems to be really happy with the result of the surgery, so Clarke has taken to being cautiously optimistic as well.

"Oh, did you text Jeremiah back yet by the way?" Raven suddenly asks, taking Clarke by surprise again.

"Oh, um,"

The other day she told Raven and Octavia about feeling kind of bad for not responding to his texts for so long when they asked what was going on with that one guy she'd had a date with. She'd already told them about the semi awkward kiss at the end of their night. Octavia had shrugged it off as normal for a first date kiss, but Raven had nodded knowingly and just said 'men'. Clarke wasn't entirely sure what Raven had meant by that, but she gathered that it was alluding to girls, in general, being better kissers. Either way, they were no help at finding a way to text him back after having let so much time pass then and Clarke doubts Raven will be of any more use to her now. Still, she confesses,

"Actually, no. Not yet."

"Clarke!" Raven chides, whipping around, standing in front of the open refrigerator. Clarke sees the Tupperware boxes carelessly pressed into hardly big enough spaces and has to bite her tongue to not say anything.

Instead she grimaces sheepishly. "I know, I know. I just don't really know what to say." She defends herself kind of half-assed.

"He's being so sweet though!" Raven argues.

See? Not helpful at all.

"I know! I just-"

Just what? Clarke doesn't even know herself why texting him back has proven more of an act than one might have thought. She's just been really busy, as generic as that sounds. But with everything going on with Raven and Callie, she sort of simply hasn't been in the right mindset to think about a guy. She's pretty sure Raven will not accept the 'I was busy' excuse though.

"I'm just not sure I like him like that."

As she says the words, she knows they're true. It hadn't really occurred to her that that might be why she hasn't felt the urge to text him. Because who wouldn't like a guy who thought you were great and made you laugh and who, on top of everything, was cute, too? But Clarke knows this must be it. She just isn't excited enough about him. That's why she keeps forgetting he texted at all. And why she keeps stalling having to come up with a reply. She just doesn't like him like that.

Huh.

"Are you sure? He sounded so chill though, the way you described him." Raven cocks her head and eyes Clarke with an almost regretful expression. Clarke doesn't know why, it's not like Raven's the one being shot down.

"Yeah, I know. I don't know, I'm just not… feeling it." She shrugs to show that she doesn't know why either.

Raven hums, still looking thoughtful. "Well, it's a damn shame. Because Jackson or Jeremiah, the boy's fine." She pulls down the corners of her mouth, expressing just how impressed she is by the guy's hotness apparently, and Clarke snorts.

"Have at it, Raven. He's all yours."

Raven pretends to be intrigued by the offer, but Clarke can tell she's just playing. Not that it would be a problem. They overcame Finn cheating on Raven with Clarke, so Raven going after a guy Clarke thought she might be interested in, but actually isn't? No, that wouldn't be a problem whatsoever. In fact, Clarke herself thought how Raven and Jeremiah would get along great she remembers. Maybe she should introduce them after all. Even if Raven's interest seems to be merely meant as a joke.

They finish cleaning the kitchen together and then they make themselves comfortable on the couch with Clarke's books and notes and two hot chocolates as a little bed time treat. Octavia said she'd be spending the night at Lincoln's so there's no one to force Raven to watch her favorite shows with her, meaning Raven was free to quiz Clarke on her test material.

Clarke usually tries to avoid having to ask Raven to do that, since the girl always gets so invested in Clarke's studies that she ends up asking a lot more questions than necessary. It's sweet and a good way to find out how much you actually know, but when you're already struggling to cover everything that'll be on the test, there usually isn't much time to get sidetracked. Octavia is more a straight-to-the-point kind of gal when she's helping Clarke prepare for exams. But Octavia isn't here and Clarke is grateful that Raven said she'd do it. She just needs to get some structure to all the knowledge she's been cramming into her brain over the past few weeks. Getting asked questions and having to explain things out loud generally helps her sort out the chaos in her mind.

"Alright, let's do this. What's a stethoscope, how does it work and, most importantly… how the fuck do you spell that motherfucker?"

With a weak laugh and a sigh Clarke reaches for the first stack of notes on the table. Wordlessly she hands Raven the list of old questions she found on the course's facebook page and a large pile of cue cards she wrote together.

"Let's just start from the top and make our way to the bottom, alright? I numbered the cue cards."

"Sure, I can be a switch for you." Raven smirks. When Clarke just ignores her, Raven mumbles 'tough crowd', before starting with the first question.

---

Lexa just sat down with a protein shake and her book, when her phone starts ringing in her bed room. Quickly she jumps up and skips around the coffee table in a haste. She gets there just in time and is relieved when a man's familiar voice answers her greeting.

"Hello?"

"I see you've lost all manners since I'm not there to teach them to you anymore."

"Gustus!" Lexa's lips spread into a wide smile. She's been trying to reach him for weeks. Hearing his voice now, she realizes she's missed it more than she noticed.

"That's Sergeant Major Gustus to you. And who is this? Since you haven't identified yourself I may just have called the wrong number. I better hang up and redial."

"Oh my god, they finally promoted you?"

Lexa has been saying Gustus should be promoted from his rank of First Sergeant to Sergeant Major for forever. Well, she obviously didn't actually say it to anybody in the military, but she's told Anya as well as Gustus himself, that she thinks he deserves a promotion more than once. She's so happy to hear that their bosses finally got their heads out of their asses and did right by him.

"I'm so happy for you!" she tells Gustus.

Gustus isn't actually his first name, but by the time he told her his first name – Elliot – she was so used to addressing the man with Gustus that she never even thought about attempting to change it. As far as she knows, everybody, even his close friends like Indra, call him Gustus anyway. It's one of those cases where the family name somehow became the nickname somewhere along the road. It's actually not that uncommon among military folks.

"Who is happy for me?"

Lexa rolls her eyes. "This is Sergeant Lexa Woods, who am I speaking to?" she corrects herself, using a falsely sweet voice as she repeats the initial greeting, this time hopefully the way Gustus wants to hear it. When there's only silence on the other end, she quickly adds, "please! Who am I speaking to, please?"

Lexa can practically hear Gustus' warm smile through the phone when he names his name and rank again, letting her know she passed his test. Making her way back into the living room Lexa smiles as well. He always does this. It's almost like a little game they play. He pretends to be shocked by Lexa's lack of manners or seemingly lax training ethics and Lexa digs out the correct responses from her memories of her four year long military life. It usually doesn't take her long to get it right. The army teachings have a way of staying just underneath the surface of your skin at all times once they're engrained in you.

Whether she really gets it right or not, Gustus usually finds a way to criticize her anyway, however. But she knows he doesn't actually mean anything by it. The reprimands are his way of showing love, she knows, and they make her feel…cared for somehow. He's a lot like Anya in that respect, Lexa guesses. Maybe that's why she and Gustus bonded so well from her very first week at Basic Combat Training.

She really doesn't know what is worse, the fact that she's being punished – again – for something super benign; her right shoelace became undone. Someone please explain to her how that is her fault? Or that now she's being watched by the Senior Drill Sergeant, who's obviously had a bad day.

"You call that running in place, Private? You think when you run away from the enemy in that pace you'll have them laugh themselves to death? Is that your plan? Is that what you joined the army for? Will you take advanced classes in Stand-up comedy to complement that plan of action? Want me to buy you a clown nose? Nice red one?"

It takes all Lexa has not to roll her eyes and snap something back at the tall, broad-shouldered man. Instead she keeps staring straight ahead, at nothing, and picks up the pace, all the while thinking how incredibly stupid this is.

"That's more like it! Now you almost look like you aren't half-asleep."

'Why don't you go fuck yourself, Drill Sergeant Gustus.' Lexa thinks grimly, the swear words tasting bitter in her mouth even though she doesn't say them.

Everything aches. Her thighs feel like they're on fire. Her abs feel like…well, like she has them, which she wasn't so sure about before coming here, and her arms and shoulders are still killing her from the shark attack on their first day where they had to hold up their duffle bags over their heads; Lexa even longer than the others.

Even her head aches from lack of sleep and Lexa thinks she might cry from exhaustion before this day is over.

But she won't. She doesn't cry; especially in front of people. And there's really no way to escape them here. Anywhere.

As she stomps her feet into the ground, for whatever fucking reason, she thinks of Anya and the look on her face when she told her she was going to join the army. She had never seen Anya like that before. Angry, yes, shocked, yes, sad, yes, but never… beaten.

She can't get that look out of her head and the more she tries to, the more it seems to cling to her; and the more she wants to ignore the meaning behind it, the more she fears it may be true.

Maybe this is the end of something. Maybe she really won't come back. Maybe that look will be the last memory she will ever have of Anya. And maybe, just maybe, Lexa deserves all the heartache the thought of that causes her. If there's even still enough left of her heart to ache. Maybe it's just a black hole now, that's pulsing to the rhythm of the ghost of what was once the beating organ that kept her alive. Maybe that's what's really hurting and maybe it doesn't even matter. Not after everything.

Maybe the word 'maybe', the uncertainty and the darkness ahead, are the only things Lexa still deserves. Because she sure as fuck doesn't feel like she knows anything about anything anymore.

The only things she's sure about are that she chose this and that she won't quit.

That…and that Anya deserved better, but she can't really let herself go there just yet.

"Hey! You're not at Sleep Train! This isn't where you lay down and dream a little dream! Wake UP!"

Lexa clenches her jaw so tightly that she thinks she might actually break a tooth, but she manages to swallow down the retort that's bubbling up from her chest. It originates in her burning lungs and leaves a searing trail in her throat that feels like she should be able to hear it sizzling like acid.

"What, are you in pain? Is that what this is?" the Senior Drill Sergeant gestures roughly at her, all of her, as if to say 'Really? This is what they bring me?'.

It makes her feel like the scum of the earth. And despite everything she feels inside that would agree with him, the bubbling still intensifies in defiance.

The bubbling intensifies and Lexa thinks she might just burst open from the pressure that's building up inside of her. It spreads out like a vicious cancer, like a wild fire racing itself to burn down a forest, until it reaches every last part of her. Every toe and every finger and every godforsaken hair on her head, all tied up in that tight fucking bun.

"You're not special. You're pain isn't special." The Senior Drill Sergeant continues to hammer on and every new insult feels like a punch to Lexa's gut. Lexa can feel her control slipping away as if she were trying to hold on to the smoke the fire leaves behind and she's about to explode when something catches her attention.

"You're a solider now, Private Woods, one of many. You know what that means?"

Something in the way the question rolls off the Sergeant's lips makes everything in Lexa halt.

Lexa doesn't answer, but when he paces past her, she chances a quick glance at the six feet five tall tower of a man. His face isn't as rough as his voice would have you think, but you can see he's seen some things by the way he seems to look farther out than just across the green and brown plains in front of him as he walks.

Lexa could kick herself when she startles as the Senior Drill Sergeant suddenly turns around. Even though she snaps her eyes back forward immediately, she's sure he saw her looking.

She waits for the yelling to start once more, but her superior's tone surprises her again.

"Well, do you?" he asks, and his voice is softer than she ever thought possible for any Sergeant anywhere. She almost forgot what the question was, but then she remembers.

"Being one of many, Private Woods," Sergeant Gustus goes on in a low voice, now standing so close to Lexa that she can feel his warm breath on the side of her face. "means that all that anger and all that sadness and all that pain… doesn't have to be carried alone."

Lexa can barely breathe as her throat constricts so painfully, that all her other soreness is forgotten as if she had never felt it.

Her eyes sting as her heart breaks, but Lexa holds back the tears.

Because Lexa doesn't cry.

Not anymore.

"Better. So, guess who came 'round the base the other day." Gustus' voice snaps Lexa's thoughts back to the present and she readjusts the phone against her ear as she sinks back onto the couch.

Before she can venture a guess however, Gustus already answers his own question.

"Staff Sergeant Wilson, will you believe it?" a soft laugh indicates that Gustus had been more than surprised by the visitor.

"Really? I thought she was still overseas!" Lexa shares his surprise. She'd have thought her former Battle Buddy would at least call her if she got back into the country.

After all they spent nearly all of Lexa's four years in the military side by side.

"Why are you walking, Private? Are you lazy? You think you're on holiday? This is the goddamn army you're at! This ain't Disneyland! You ain't here to go on a ride and shake hands with Mickey Mouse! Get your ass out of my goddamn barrack! Run, run, run, run! Go, go, go! Goddammit-"

The rest of the Drill Sergeant's yelling is swallowed as Lexa and her platoon mates run out of the barracks and into the cold morning air. It's 4:43 am and it's freezing, but Lexa doesn't mind. She can handle the cold. She can handle the yelling. She can even handle Charlie.

Charlie Wilson is a 20 year-old girl from Miami, Florida. She's about three inches smaller than Lexa and possibly three times as smart as her, but the most fascinating thing about her has to be how she can manage to talk Lexa's ear off at the very short and few 'breaks' they get and still avoid getting smoked. Lexa's had to do push-ups, sit-ups, run in place and hold her duffle bag over her head for half an hour and this is only day 3. If Lexa ever finds out how Charlie avoids getting picked on by the Drill Sergeants even though she's not exactly quiet, she'll be one happy soldier, that's for sure. The way it's looking right now, however, Lexa will be lucky if her entire platoon doesn't hate her by the end of the week. Because most of the time when she gets smoked, they all get smoked.

Welcome to the army, bitches. Hooah!

However tough the Drill Sergeants are on her though, punishing her for every little thing from speaking when not spoken to, over 'showing attitude', to something literally as small as having a single hair out of place, Lexa is determined not to quit. Quitting is not an option.

Nobody ever said Basic Training would be a walk in the park, nobody ever said she would love it here, nobody ever promised her long, quiet nights or comfortable beds or nice, relaxing lunch breaks. And if there's something Lexa is used to, it's having to share her space with a bunch of people she doesn't really know or particularly like and being yelled at by adults for no valid reason. This is nothing new for her. This is just another Wednesday.

Charlie however is something Lexa didn't expect. She'd never heard of 'Battle Buddies' before, so when she was assigned one on day 1 of Basic Combat Training, or 'Boot Camp', she was not thrilled. Someone to look out for you? Someone to train with? Someone to talk to? Share your thoughts and feelings with? Have by your side all day, every day, until you graduate? No! This is not what she signed up for. She signed up for the army, not baby daycare!

She doesn't want someone by her side 24/7. She wants to be left alone. Train alone. Eat alone. Sleep alone.

Well, as alone as one can do all that when they're sharing a dorm with about twenty to thirty other recruits and the doors are always open.

At least they aren't really allowed to talk in the barracks. Apparently they haven't 'earned' that right yet. If Lexa weren't so happy not having to talk, she'd have a word to say about that stupid rule. Sometimes she thinks no one under the sun has ever actually read the definition of 'rights' before. Who comes up with the idea that being allowed to talk should have to be earned? And why 'rights' can be taken away as a disciplinary measure or some stupid lesson to be learned will never make sense to Lexa. In her book that defies the very definition of a right. They're thinking about privileges. Not rights. But fine, if they want to treat talking like a privilege, falsely call it a 'right' and then make them earn it? Whatever. Lexa couldn't care less about that particular restriction.

She's just glad she's out of reception. That was the longest fucking week of her life.

When they get to the Combat Grounds their instructors are already waiting for them. It's time for morning drills and Lexa doubts they will be any easier than they've been the last two days. She's not the fittest, mainly because she hasn't really worked out ever in her life and unfortunately took up Anya's nasty smoking habit over the past year, but she doubts anyone short of a pro athlete could walk away from these drills without being incredibly sore the next morning. As drills will be a daily occurrence from now on however, Lexa hopes her muscles will get used to them eventually and stop feeling like they're being ripped apart with every movement.

Either way, for now she'll just have to suck it up, so she gets into position and shouts along the repetitive 'yes, corporal' with her fellow soldiers-in-training as they're being whipped into shape.

Of course, Charlie is right by her side, and when they're being shouted at to pair up for the next exercise Lexa sighs and turns to face her.

There is a hint of an encouraging smile on Charlie's face as Lexa's body blocks her from their Sergeant's view and Lexa rolls her eyes internally.

Great. A babysitter and a soccer mom in one.

Just how she imagined her life in the army.

"Hooah!"

"She asked about you. Wanted to know what you were up to these days. I told her you were spending your days drinking beer and watching rugby. I think she was really excited for a second." Gustus tells Lexa just then. He chuckles at his own shenanigans and the casual conversational tone with which he talks gives Lexa the irrational urge to giggle. "Why she likes that pseudo sport, I'll never understand. It's just a-"

"A watered-down version of American Football." Lexa finishes his sentence, grinning to herself.

"Well, it is!" Gustus argues, laughter still in his voice. "I mean at least when she was watching Women's Soccer she had a good team to cheer on! But rugby? Tell me one good American team. Actually, name one American rugby team, period."

Lexa merely laughs in lieu of an answer and Gustus takes it as endorsement apparently. "Exactly."

They end up talking for almost an hour and when Lexa hangs up she holds a piece of paper in her hands. It appears Charlie's phone got trashed in an incident Gustus said he'd rather have Charlie tell Lexa herself and she lost all of her contacts. When she asked about Lexa however, she had Gustus give her Lexa's number and made him promise he would pass along hers as well.

Lexa carefully copies the digits from the paper into her phone and replaces them with Charlie's old number.

She smiles as she draws up a new text message.

---

When Anya first let Octavia know that her practice shift would be on a Saturday she thought the woman was crazy. Who would have someone bartend for the first time on the busiest day of the week? But Anya's argument was kind of compelling.

"If you can't handle busy, I have no use for you. Busy is exactly why we need you."

Touchè. Octavia had thought then. But she'd still been nervous all week, frantically trying to learn everything about cocktails and other useful bartender skill, and turning their kitchen into a war zone in the process. She had seen Clarke's looks, but thankfully her roommate had held back from tearing her head off. At least so far.

Despite her nerves she'd been excited to get to the club as well and now that she's finally here, she's one-hundred percent in her element.

It's crazy busy and there's an impossible amount of things she needs to remember all at once, but just like when Bellamy first taught her how to drive she just tunes out everything around her and tries to let her body take over.

Octavia has always been the physical type. She likes pushing her body, likes feeling her muscles work and for as long as she can remember her muscle memory has been of greater service to her than her mind ever was. Even in school she'd write things she'd need to remember out with her body. Repeating them to herself as she danced through her room or linking certain answers to certain skateboard tricks as she hung out with Raven at the park.

At first her mom always got angry when she was listening to music or milling about outside, seemingly instead of studying, but after a few fights and 'inexplicable' good grades she accepted Octavia's explanation and let her do her thing.

Now she just needs to apply her unusual technique to this. Bartending. How lucky that it's a rather physical job when you think about it; or don't think about it, more precisely.

Thankfully, Anya is too busy to watch over her shoulder all the time and the other bartender on shift – Octavia thinks she's called Sarah – doesn't seem overly watchful either. Rather she's nice and uncomplicated and Octavia thinks that if this works out they might actually work together quite well.

The pulse of the music adds to her excitement and she just can't stop grinning.

---

"Hold on, hold on!" Raven calls as Clarke wants to cross the street to where the neon Club sign lights up the street. Clarke turns around and sees Raven struggling to tug one of the decorative zippers on her pants leg out from under her new brace.

"Here, let me." Clarke says and lowers onto one knee in front of Raven.

"Oh my god, Clarke, I had no idea!" Raven exclaims in a choked up voice, clutching her hands in front of her mouth. "Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!"

"Shut up." Clarke snorts, not able to keep from laughing. She scoots a little to the left to make way for a man with a stroller who eyes them curiously before his toddler demands his attention, pulling on his jacket sleeve on the other side.

She prods the zipper out from under the brace's cushioned aluminum straps.

"Anywhere else?" she asks Raven, already checking the other straps by running a finger between them and Raven's leg.

"No, that's good." Raven replies and Clarke stands back up.

"Why did you even go for the zipper pants? Wasn't that kind of predictable that stuff would poke you under the brace?" Clarke enquires as Raven loops her arm through Clarke's and they cross the street together.

It's almost midnight and the streets are already dark, but the unmistakable buzz of weekend clubbing hangs in the air. People are walking up and down the streets in small to medium groups, talking to each other in various states of drunkenness and displaying the typical moods that come along with it. Clarke spots a very giggly girl hanging on to a tall, bulky guy who's ears are so red they almost rival the traffic lights he's standing under. Behind them three other girls are huddled around their friend, consoling her over whatever made her cry and take her shoes off and further down the street Clarke can hear some other guy bellowing out a song so out of key that there is no chance of recognizing it and she silently wonders if it's later than she thought or if people get drunk sooner than they used to.

"Because they're the shit and they make my ass look good." Raven answers as if Clarke should have known that and Clarke just hums. Fair enough.

As they get closer to the club the heavy black door opens and two guys and a girl walk out, laughing and shrugging into their jackets as one of them lights a cigarette. Or tries to. They pause two steps in front of the door so the one guy can cup his hands around his lighter and when Clarke goes to push past him he looks up and for a second she freezes.

That face. Those eyes, that mouth, the way his forehead crinkles as he draws up his eyebrows at her staring. He looks so much like Wells that her heart stutters painfully.

"Clarke?" Raven's voice comes from behind her and Clarke shakes herself internally. She manages to tear her eyes away from his face and quickly pushes towards the door, but she still feels like she just saw a ghost. She barely registers Raven apologizing to the guy and thanking him for stepping out of the way, before the door opens and a gentle hand pushes her to go inside.

There's a guy sitting on a three-legged high stool. He has an impressive beard. He asks her for something. The entry fee. Clarke struggles with her purse. Raven puts a hand on her wrist. Clarke lowers it and Raven pays for both of them.

Clarke gets a stamp on her right wrist.

Raven's hand returns to Clarke's back and ushers her a few steps further.

"Clarke?"

The word is louder in the quiet after the door has closed behind them and Clarke takes a deep breath. This time she physically shakes her head to get rid of the image.

"Sorry, sorry, I just…that guy…" she swallows hard and then looks up at Raven who's eyeing her with a mix of curiosity and concern, her hand still lingering on the small of Clarke's back over her leather jacket. "That guy looked exactly like Wells."

"Oh."

Raven knows all about Wells. All about how he was Clarke's best friend from the time they were babies. All about how they used to be inseparable. All about how he could always make her laugh even when she was angry at him or her parents, just by pretending to fall off his chair or choke on his drink, spitting everything out and all over himself. All about how he taught her how to play chess and all about how she hasn't played it since he died.

Raven knows. And when Clarke swallows again, she wordlessly steps forward and pulls Clarke into a tight hug. It lasts just long enough for Clarke to feel the shock leave her system, but not long enough for her to feel constricted and get caught up in the pain. It lasts the perfect amount of time and when Raven leans back Clarke smiles at her gratefully.

"Well, come on. I'll buy ya a drink, pretty lady. We'll drink one in his honor." Raven presses her lips together and bumps her shoulder against Clarke's, before starting down the stairs.

"We?" Clarke arches her brow, but has to smirk when Raven throws back her head, ponytail whipping along, and groans loudly.

"You! You'll drink one in his honor and I'll have a fucking virgin, okay? You happy now? Jeez, mom." The last part is mumbled just loud enough for Clarke to hear as she follows Raven down the stairs and her grin spreads.

By now they can faintly hear the music coming from the inside the club behind a double door at the end of a short hallway. At the bottom of the stairs a pretty girl with a feather in her hair is working coat check and Raven immediately perks up at the sight of her. Clarke rolls her eyes up and shakes her head good-naturedly as Raven's last steps towards the coatroom turn into a leisurely saunter.

"Hi there." Raven leans her elbows onto the counter that separates the coatroom from the rest of the hallway. Clarke can't see her face, but she just knows Raven is wearing one of her cocky smirks or maybe she went for the sweet smile with the big soulful eyes. Either way it seems to be working, because the girl, straightening up from rummaging around under the counter, chuckles pleasantly and gives Raven a dazzling smile.

She really is very pretty, Clarke thinks, silently checking the woman out while Raven starts up a conversation. The coat-girl's tan skin looks warm and soft and fits very well with her brown, wavy hair. Several braids have been plaited into it and some have small feathers hanging from them as well. Somehow that makes the girl look playful, but sophisticated at the same time and Clarke is secretly impressed. She's just trying to decide what color the girl's eyes are when she overhears Raven say her name and it draws her attention. Raven is telling the girl – Piper – how Clarke and she are friends of the new bartender and when the girl says, 'Oh, Octavia?' and glances at Clarke, Clarke smiles and nods, feeling slightly caught.

They give Piper their jackets and when Raven finally seems to decide she's done flirting – not before promising Piper that she'll bring her a drink later though – they continue on their way into the club. They feel the beat of the music more than they hear it and with every step closer to the double doors, Clarke and Raven get more and more excited. For very different reasons though, Clarke thinks, biting her lip when her stomach flips at the thought that Lexa may be just beyond those doors.

---

bzzzz bzzzz

Lexa looks up from her book as her phone vibrates on the table. She's a little startled at how dark it is around her and looks at the watch on her wrist.

12:08 am.

Wow. She's been lost in her book for over four hours now. She hasn't even moved once and she can feel it. Her back is stiff and her neck hurts from having to hold her head up for so long and Lexa lets out a soft groan as she rubs it with her left hand. Her right wrist hurts as well and she rolls it a few times before reaching for the phone.

It's a message from Anya. Before she even opens it the little camera emoji in her inbox tells her it's a picture and Lexa frowns. Isn't Anya supposed to be working the bar tonight? Saturdays are always busy, so Lexa can't see her just chilling around, taking pictures.

Curious now, she opens the message and almost drops her phone.

Leaning forward, she quickly clicks on the picture to bring it to full screen.

Clarke.

The picture shows Clarke and Raven, standing at the bar that Lexa immediately recognizes as the one in Grounders. Raven seems to be saying something, face lit up with obvious joy and excitement, and Clarke is smiling to herself as she looks down at her purse that's wedged between her and the bar.

She's so beautiful.

Even though the picture isn't the best quality, Lexa is in awe. Clarke's blonde hair falls over her shoulder in a graceful wave and the bar's famous lights tinge the whole scene a soft rainbow color. It makes it seem almost magical.

The smile on Clarke's face is small, but Lexa finds it incredibly mesmerizing still. It makes her want to know what Clarke is smiling about. Was it something Raven said to her? Was it something she thought of? Or was there no particular reason behind it at all?

What little she can see of Clarke's body makes her swallow. The black top she's wearing seems to be skin tight and is so low-cut that there is little left to the imagination. Two thin straps trail over the curve of her breasts, running down into the space between Clarke's breasts, where they meet.

Lexa thinks she may never tire of looking at this picture, but when she finally taps it again to shrink it back to its original size, she notices that Anya has added something underneath.

Guess who just came in. Get your ass over here.

Lexa doesn't have to be told twice.

---

By the time Lexa arrives at the club her nerves are raw. She's been rhythmically scratching over her fingernails the whole bike ride over, but it hasn't helped calm her down one bit. Instead she feels even more jittery now if that's at all possible.

She hardly notices Bossy greeting her on her way in and finds it incredibly difficult to stand still as Frank presses the club's stamp of the night against her left wrist.

As she descends the stairs towards the cloakroom Lexa tries to calm herself down. She takes a couple of deep breaths and forces her mind to manage her expectations.

Clarke is here with her friend. Why would she even want to spend time with Lexa? Maybe she already left. Maybe she is bar hopping and this was just a quick pit stop and Lexa came here for nothing like a damn fool. Maybe Clarke is already dancing with some guy or Raven and wants to be left alone. Her stomach drops at that thought, but she quickly pushes on. What if Clarke hasn't thought about her again at all and just smiles at her politely and then ignores her for the rest of the night? That thought isn't any less depressing, but the next isn't any better.

What if she asks her what she's doing here?

In a moment of panic Lexa's steps falter and she almost trips the last of the way down the stairs. She only just catches herself, but now her heart is really racing.

"Hey!"

Piper smiles widely at her, but when Lexa comes closer she frowns.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah." Lexa nods twice and then looks down, not sure why she can't hold eye contact with Piper all of a sudden.

"You sure?" Piper asks a little hesitantly, but Lexa is already a few steps ahead. She nods again with a quick glance over her shoulder, before aiming her eyes straight ahead again.

Get it together!

For some reason it's Gustus' voice reprimanding her in her head and Lexa quickly closes her eyes to refocus. She can do this.

No expectations. No expectation. No expectations.

The second the bar is in her line of sight, Lexa looks for the spot Clarke was standing in in the picture Anya sent her.

It's now occupied by a large brunette with legs for days and straightened hair down to her ass.

She just moved to another spot. She just moved. That's all.

As is typical for a Saturday night, the club is extremely crowded. On her slow way to the bar Lexa tries her best to inconspicuously look around for Clarke. No luck.

Instead she spots Sarah twirling a shaker over the back of her hand. When she sees her, she gives Lexa a nod in recognition and smiles at her.

Too nervous to smile back, Lexa ducks behind a sturdy guy in a neon wife-beater shirt as she presses on.

When the bar comes into view again Lexa sees Anya handing a bottle of alcohol to Clarke's roommate Octavia. Even though she knew Octavia was trying out for the bartender job, actually seeing Clarke's friend in this setting makes Lexa excited.

When she finally reaches the bar counter she circles over to the left and slips behind it.

Octavia is so busy with whatever cocktail she's making that she doesn't look up or make any indication that she noticed Lexa's presence. Anya, however, starts smirking the second Lexa appears next to her.

"Shut up." Lexa grumbles and Anya's smirk only grows, now accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

"She's on the dance floor." Anya answers a question Lexa never asked. Lexa only nods, turning away from Anya.

She pretends it's because she needs to look for the key to the office, but really she just can't stand the knowing way Anya looks at her, amusement evident on her face. It's not helping Lexa's nerves at all.

She mumbles a quick thanks, before she grabs the key off its hook and vanishes through the door leading to the staff and storage area.

As the door closes behind her the club noise cuts out almost completely and suddenly the loudest thing in her ears is her own heartbeat.

She walks past the staff bathroom to Anya's office. It's cool and stuffy back here and Lexa can feel a drop of sweat trickling down from her hairline. She delicately wipes it away, before rubbing the same hand against her black high waist skinny trousers.

She was so glad when she saw them in her closet. She thought Anya might have borrowed them at first, when they weren't where she thought she remembered putting them after her last laundry day, but there they were. They're maybe her favorites. Although she's never really worn them to impress someone in particular, Lexa knows the way they hug her legs is desirable in a situation like the one she has unexpectedly found herself in tonight.

And what situation exactly is that?

Clenching her jaw she shushes her mind internally.

As she steps into Anya's office she briefly debates whether she should even take off her formfitting suit jacket. It's actually meant to be worn inside, open and buttonless, but Lexa decides it's simply too hot in the club to leave it on.

She carefully folds it over Anya's desk chair, making sure her money purse won't slip out from the inner pocket and fall to the floor, and then turns on the spot and exits the office as quickly as she came in.

On her way back towards where the music is beckoning, she passes the bathroom again and stops in her tracks. On a whim she quickly dashes in and eyes herself in the mirror.

Her hair is open, parted in the middle, and flowing freely down past her shoulders. She even put mascara on; more than she has in forever – not counting her MMA 'commander' paint – and tried for a sort of smokey look with a little smudging underneath the eyes as well. She frowns, unsure, but there's nothing she can do about it now.

Her look trails lower to where her dark green, silky button-up is stuffed into the top of her trousers just at her navel. She tries to get out the wrinkles, but she can't quite get rid of all of them. When she tugs on the one, another appears.

With a final deep breath, she looks her reflection in the eyes one last time and then turns away from the mirror.

T minus zero.

---

Clarke is just on her way back to the bar when she almost runs into someone, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Oops, sorry!" Clarke exclaims happily, before a giggle dies in her throat when she sees who it is. "Lexa!"

Lexa looks about as shocked as Clarke feels. And that's pretty damn shocked. Where did she come from? Clarke knows she wasn't in the club when she and Raven got there. She knows because she looked, really well, and because she was disappointed when she couldn't see her anywhere.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke asks reflexively and Lexa's face falls even more. The brunette looks positively uncomfortable now. Oh shit, that was probably rude. After all, it's her friend's club!

"I mean, where did you come from?" she tries to amend. That doesn't sound any better, Clarke!

"Just now I mean, because I almost ran into you. Because I didn't see you!"

Lexa's expression still looks a little shaken, but Clarke is relieved when she finally talks.

"Um, o-office." Lexa stutters, vaguely gesturing to the door behind her. Clarke thinks it's the cutest thing. Also, was that door always there?

"Oh!" she nods and then smiles. She can't not. Because she thought she wouldn't get to see Lexa after all and now here she is! And she's really, really pretty. No, pretty is the wrong word. Lexa looks hot.

Really, really hot.

Involuntarily, Clarke's eyes trace over Lexa's body. Her entire outfit screams confidence and sex-appeal and Clarke feels a pleasant twinge low in her stomach. It passes in the blink of an eye, but a light fluttering sensation lingers behind and it's thrilling in a way that Clarke likes. A lot.

When she looks back up, she sees Lexa staring at her as well and suddenly she feels ten times hotter. In every sense of the word. Because Lexa's lips are slightly parted and her expression looks awestruck and Clarke is really, really glad Lexa came after all.

"Hey, I was just getting drinks, are you going to the bar?" Clarke asks and she has to shout a little as the song that's playing surges in a booming crescendo.

After another second, Lexa nods and Clarke takes that as her cue. Smiling happily again, she grabs one of Lexa's wrists and tugs her along after herself as she pushes her way to the bar. Lexa's skin feels soft and smooth against her palm and for a second Clarke worries that her hand might be sweaty. But the thought doesn't stay. She's too excited. When she spots an open space at the bar she quickly pulls Lexa with her.

For the second time that evening they almost collide, but Lexa catches herself. Clarke wouldn't have minded.

"Hey, Lexa! There you are!" the girl that introduced herself as Sarah earlier calls out when she sees Lexa and then adds something, but it's not loud enough and Clarke doesn't really listen. She's already trying to get Octavia's attention, who's at the other end of the bar.

"O! Octavia!" she calls out and then turns to Lexa without even making sure that Octavia heard her. "That's my friend Octavia! She's a bartender here now!" she explains to Lexa, who's standing right next to her.

Clarke let go of Lexa's wrist when they got to the bar, but she really wants to touch her again. Maybe not though. That would be kind of weird. They barely know each other! The thought almost makes Clarke laugh out loud, because it really feels like she and Lexa have known each other for way longer than they have.

Then again, Clarke practically saved Lexa's life when she choked at the gym. She touched her then, too. So maybe it would be okay.

Clarke's eyes drop to Lexa's middle. That's where her hands were when she did the Heimlich maneuver on Lexa. She tries to recall the feel of Lexa's body against her hands, but she can't. She wants to wind her arms around her again so she can properly pay attention this time. So she can remember.

She notices that Lexa is talking to her.

"What?"

"She said we already met." Octavia's voice comes out of nowhere. Not really. It comes from across the bar and Clarke beams.

"Octavia!"

Octavia laughs and Clarke laughs with her.

"Clarke!" Octavia echoes back at her and Clarke can tell she's kind of making fun of her, but it's all good. Octavia is here and Lexa is here and this night is awesome.

The bartender called Sarah, who's still standing across from them, addresses Lexa again. "So are you drinking tonight?"

Before Lexa can even respond someone answers for her.

"Of course she is! It's on me!"

Raven appears on Clarke's other side and Clarke smiles broadly at her.

"Raven!"

"Okay, not this again." Octavia interrupts, laughing and clapping her open hand onto the counter to get Clarke's attention. "Are you gonna order or what? I ain't got all night, honeys!" she drawls the last sentence the way Raven often does and Clarke wants to laugh again. She just feels so light now. Light and happy. But then she pulls herself together and concentrates. What did she want to get again?

"Yeah, what will it be, Commander?" Raven inquires, throwing an arm around Clarke's shoulder and leaning in closer, but Lexa shakes her head. Clarke thinks she looks a little uncomfortable, maybe even annoyed, when she says, "No, really you don't have to. It's fine."

"Oh," Raven makes a gesture with the hand that's slung over Clarke's body, as if physically swatting the refusal away. "I insist." She says and Clarke agrees.

"Yeah, she insists! She's been insisting all night." Clarke giggles and then lets out a small squeal when Raven unexpectedly tries to shut her up by pressing her hand over Clarke's mouth.

"Don't listen to Party-Griffin. Party-Griffin is perfectly capable of getting herself drunk. Party-Griffin did this to herself and she knows it." Raven tells Lexa and Clarke can see her grinning in her peripheral vision as she struggles against Raven's hand. Raven lets her go though, but Clarke only giggles again.

"Guys!" Octavia snaps them back to the task at hand and Clarke twists her body to the bar to stand at attention. Just as quickly she twists it back to face Lexa though.

"You should really let her get you something. It's for Wells." She explains and apparently that's all the convincing Lexa needs.

"Alright." Lexa nods once, eyes staying on Clarke. Clarke likes the way Lexa looks at her. It's quiet and loud at once and it makes her feel clearer, like someone cleaned up all her edges and redrew her with a sharper pencil.

Raven hollers and when she retracts her arm from Clarke's shoulder, Clarke sees Lexa watching the movement. It makes her insides tingle for some reason.

"Make sure it's a really difficult one." Raven tells Lexa in a conspiratorial voice, winking at her before glancing at Octavia, and Clarke's cheeks are starting to hurt from grinning so much.

Raven orders another drink, saying she'll bring it to the 'goddess in the coatroom', and Clarke thinks she sees Lexa's brows rise up in surprise. Maybe she didn't expect Raven to be into girls.

When Lexa is up, she orders a beer and Raven groans and tells her she's no fun, but Clarke thinks Lexa is totally fun.

Especially when she secretly shoots Clarke a mischievous smirk when Raven isn't looking.

---

Clarke is tipsy. It's obvious and cute and apparently Clarke's not dating Raven after all either and Lexa really doesn't know what to do about it. She doesn't know what to think. The way Clarke is not shy to get close to Lexa, touch her arm or hand or just simply smile that brilliant smile at her, makes Lexa entirely incapable of really doing much thinking at all.

Clarke's outfit isn't helping either, because the revealing top turned out to be a form-fitting mini-dress and the way it hugs Clarke's figure makes Lexa glad the club isn't well lit enough to discern the hue of red her face probably adopted the minute she laid eyes on her.

While Clarke seems to enjoy her slight drunkenness, apparently feeling carefree and happy as can be, Lexa was painfully aware of her awkwardness at first. But somehow Clarke's presence put Lexa at ease almost instantly. Something about her just makes Lexa feel like there isn't anything she could say or do that would put Clarke off and it's an incredibly freeing experience.

Maybe the beer Sarah put into her hands helped with that a little, but not counting the ever-present nervousness when she's around the beautiful blonde, she felt that way at the gym as well. Clarke just feels so… familiar.

Of course familiar doesn't negate exciting and when Clarke touches her arm just then, Lexa feels like she could generate enough electricity for a small village.

"Come on, let's dance!" Clarke shouts over the noisy crowd at the bar and Lexa's stomach drops.

"I told you I don't dance." She shakes her head, repeating her statement from the Halloween party.

She's not one to dance at a club. She's just not. There's people everywhere shouting and jumping, bumping into you and watching you, and Lexa really can't stand it.

It's not like she's never danced before, but she's never really gotten what all the fuzz is about. Everyone always says it's so freeing and exhilarating and a great way to let loose, but Lexa has always felt unnatural on the dance floor for some reason.

"Oh, come on!" Clarke whines, grabbing Lexa's lower arm with both of hers now. Lexa wants to protest again, but when Clarke's lower lip juts out, the words die in her throat.

"Not fair." Lexa mutters, feeling a little breathless at the sight of Clarke pouting at her; fluttering eyelashes and all.

"What?"

Lexa just shakes her head again.

Clarke pouts for one more second, but when Raven comes up behind her, she seems to give up.

"Alright," she shrugs, sighing dramatically. "I guess I'll have to ask Raven."

"Ask me what?"

Lexa tenses.

"Ask you if you'll dance with me." She tells Raven, eyes lingering on Lexa as she says it, before turning them onto her friend.

"Um, yeah!" Raven scoffs, conveying that that's an unnecessary question to ask, and Lexa feels herself clenching her jaw.

"Good." Clarke chirps and the way she smirks at Lexa while she says it, makes Lexa swallow tightly.

"Are you coming, Commander?" Raven asks and Lexa really wishes she would stop calling her that. She doesn't feel very in command at all right now.

"Yes." Clarke answers for her and then, with a slight raise of her brow, adds, "The Commander is gonna watch."

---

The dance floor is packed and dark and it should be hard to keep track of one person, but it's not.

Lexa's eyes never once leave Clarke and even if they did, Lexa thinks it wouldn't be hard to find Clarke again at all. She'd just know where she is. She'd just feel it without even looking, because Clarke feels like a magnet to her tonight and even if Lexa tried to sever the connection, she probably couldn't.

Lexa doesn't try.

She's standing in the same spot as she did a week ago, leaning against the wall with her drink in her hand. Only this time it's really Clarke she's watching on the dance floor.

And she's beautiful.

Just like on Halloween Lexa is fascinated by the way Clarke moves to the music. She's soft and smooth as she dances to the melodies, but then sharp and powerful on certain beats and Lexa can't really wrap her mind around it. Clarke seems to feel the music with every fiber of her body and she's not held back by shyness or self-consciousness which, Lexa muses, is what makes it so awe-inspiring.

It's joyful and it's honest and it's soulful and Lexa thinks she could watch Clarke forever.

She doesn't even mind Raven dancing with her.

Well… maybe just a little.

The two have obviously danced together a lot, because they move together like they can read each other's minds. They seem so comfortable and natural as they wind in and out of each other's personal spaces and even press their bodies so close at times that it borders on grinding and Lexa – aside from being slightly jealous; only slightly – is simply fascinated by it. She could never feel like that. Move like that. Let go like that.

Trust like that.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders, maybe just a little sarcastically, why that is, but then Raven grabs Clarke's hand, twirls her around to shared laughter, and suddenly Lexa is staring into blue eyes. Even across the dark dance floor they're mesmerizing.

She doesn't know why she isn't embarrassed that Clarke caught her watching so intensely.

Maybe it's because Clarke doesn't seem to mind, now smirking as she moves her hips to the music and slowly traces her hands up her own body. Maybe it's because Lexa probably isn't even the only one watching.

Or maybe it's because, really, there's no point in denying it anymore.

There is something between them.

A connection. An attraction. A draw. A pull.

And they both know it.

And finally Lexa gives in and when Clarke looks at her again, playfully beckoning her to come over, Lexa pushes off the wall.

---

Clarke can't believe Lexa is actually coming over!

She watches as Lexa puts her beer onto the board next to her and Raven's drinks and then starts towards her.

The fighter's eyes never leave her and just like that Clarke's lips curl up into a genuine smile.

She just can't help.

When Lexa catches her smile, the girl's lips twitch as well and it makes Clarke's stomach twinge in the most exhilarating way.

She wants to say something sassy and teasing once Lexa is within earshot, but when she sees her expression, she forgets all about it. Lexa is looking at her in a way that causes her smile to falter and her heart to stutter. Lexa is looking at her as if she wanted to ask her a million questions too delicate to form into words. She is looking at her as if she already knew the answers to all of them and as if she couldn't wait for Clarke to know them, too. She's looking at her as if she wanted to tell her things that have never been spoken aloud and as if she wanted to stay in silence with Clarke forever, chasing away any ghosts by simple touch; by just being together. Lexa is looking at Clarke as if they were as ancient and timeless as time itself and Clarke aches with a bittersweet yearning she's never felt before. It's too big for her body, too big for her soul, and she feels utterly, beautifully powerless against it.

She feels powerless against Lexa in that moment and it's so exquisitely all-consuming, she thinks she may never want to feel anything else ever again.

It should be scary, but it doesn't scare Clarke at all, and when Lexa finally stands before her, close enough to see the club's colorful, flashing lights reflected in her big green eyes, everything feels just so, so right.

Clarke is so caught up in herself and in Lexa and in things she can't put into words that she almost jumps when Raven's voice comes from right behind her.

"Heeeey! Commander in the house!" she whoops and Lexa's eyes flicker away from Clarke's for a moment, making Clarke feel like she was just brought out of a hypnotic trance by some magician clapping his hands. She swallows and only now notices that sometime between Lexa pushing off that wall and coming to stand in front of her, she apparently stopped dancing.

"Are you gonna dance with us after all?" Raven asks and Lexa makes them wait another blink of the eye, before nodding in lieu of an answer. A small smile playing around her lips.

Ugh! Why does she always do that? And why does it have such an effect on Clarke?

Raven doesn't seem fazed at all and just whoops again, throwing her hands in the air before she continues dancing, eyes closed and a happy smile on her face.

Clarke turns back to look at Lexa.

What now?

They just look at each other for another second, before Lexa leans in and Clarke tries to remember how to breathe properly.

"So, are you going to show me how to dance, Clarke?"

The question is innocent enough and yet Clarke feels like she's on fire and something in the way Lexa's eyes twinkle when she leans back again gives Clarke the impression Lexa knows exactly what she's doing.

It's so delightfully playful and so delightfully thrilling and Clarke can't help but laugh.

And when the music changes from one song to the next, they start dancing.

---

Raven left only a few minutes after Lexa joined them. She told them she'd watch their drinks now that Lexa is here, but Clarke saw her favoring her healthy leg as she made her way off the dance floor.

Clarke asked if she was sure, but Raven only waved her off without turning around; and just like that Lexa and Clarke were alone amidst the throbbing crowd.

Lexa is a little stiff, almost seeming nervous, and Clarke thinks it's the cutest thing.

The strong, tough mixed martial arts fighter seems awkward, yes almost clumsy, in her movements and when Lexa looks down with a slight frown of concentration on her face, Clarke presses her lips together to hide her grin.

"It's not standard you know?" she teases and Lexa looks up at her.

"What?"

"We're not trying to waltz here, Lexa." Clarke laughs, when Lexa's eyes reflexively dart to her own feet again, before returning to Clarke. "There are no wrong steps."

Lexa doesn't seem convinced and Clarke just chuckles again and then takes the helpless Commander's hips between her hands. She didn't know why she knew Lexa wouldn't shy away from her again, but the other girl only tenses for a second. Well, only tenses more for a second. She's pretty tense over all, but really, that's not Clarke's fault.

"Relax." Clarke murmurs reassuringly, taking another step towards Lexa, and sees the brunette's shoulders lift and lower as Lexa takes a deep breath.

"Good. Now move your body with me. Like this."

She starts winding, moving her shoulders from one side to the other to the beat, her body becoming more fluent as she gets into the song's rhythm. Soon her limbs feel more part of the music than of herself and she feels that exciting feeling of freedom and weightlessness cursing through her body.

Happiness bubbles up inside her and she smiles brightly as she watches Lexa watch her hands and then her body and Clarke feels just so alive.

Slowly Lexa slips into the beat as well, coming more and more out of her reserve and when Clarke takes her hands she returns her smile brightly, matching Clarke's movements.

They dance three songs together like this, holding hands and grinning at each other, and when Lexa moves her hips particularly sexily to Dua Lipa's Hotter Than Hell, Clarke cheers. She drops her jaw and then wiggles her eyebrows at Lexa and when Lexa laughs in response, a real, joyful, teeth-showing laugh, Clarke's entire body hums.

She never thought dancing could feel even better, but this is the happiest and giddiest she's felt in forever and she never wants to stop dancing with Lexa.

She's already out of breath when the next song's first chords fill up the club, but suddenly she's breathless in a very different way.

You know just what to say, things that scare me

I should just walk away, but I can't move my feet

Lexa's eyes are locked onto hers. They speak the words Clarke feels in her chest. That sound all around them now.

The more that I know you, the more I want to

Something inside me's changed, I was so much younger yesterday

They move towards each other at the same time; it feels magnetic, inevitable.

I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you

Don't need no butterflies, when you give me the whole damn zoo

They're so close now that Clarke feels Lexa everywhere. Their chests, their hips, their thighs press together and when they move, they move as one. Clarke's arms wind around Lexa's shoulders while Lexa's hands trace from Clarke's sides to her back, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and they never break eye-contact once; not for a second.

By the way, by the way, you do things to my body

I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you

Lexa swallows, her eyes drop to Clarke's lips, and Clarke feels tingles everywhere.

By the way, by the way, you do things to my body

I didn't know that I was starving till I tasted you

Their foreheads touch. They're sweaty. Clarke feels Lexa's breath on her lips. It's as shallow as hers.

Her heart races and races and races and then it doesn't, because soft lips press against her own and everything else just stops.

The kiss is timid and gentle and needy and breathless and Clarke's entire body is so wound-up and she can't stand the ache of it anymore and she wants more, more, more; always more.

Her fingers scratch up Lexa's neck and wind themselves into her hair and the sound that escapes Lexa makes Clarke's knees weak. She presses her body closer to Lexa, closer, closer, closer; always closer.

Their mouths open and Lexa's shaky breath mingles with Clarke's and it's all she can do not to moan, but any noise she would have made gets swallowed up when Lexa's lips embrace her lower one, a quiet desperation to it that tastes almost as sweet at Lexa.

Lexa, Lexa, Lexa; always Lexa.

---

NOTES:

So they finally kissed! Believe me, I've been as impatient as you to finally write this!

I hope you liked it and that you take the time to drop me a comment!

It's getting good, yaaalll!

Love, love, love; always love

Lea