Definitely, Maybe

A/N ~ God, I'm really not ready to be writing this. I just want to give a huge cheer to everybody who took time out of their lives to read my fanfiction, follow, review, ship, squeal, whatever. I've had such a blast writing it, this whole thing has been a joy from start to finish. By the time I'd posted four chapters, I think, I had more of you reading than I'd had on any fic before. The clexa fandom is the best thing, and I'm really glad my first fic for it has been this, and that it's made so many of you smile. Keep calm and clexa on. We are endgame.

I have plans for several more clexa fics, honestly I could write these two forever, so keep an eye out for my coming reunion-with-a-twist, and the rock band AU I'm plotting. If enough of you want a sequel, then it could be on the cards, but at the minute I'm not sure. I might do a few one-shots set in this AU, but again, wait and see.

Thank you!

25.

"Get it, get it, get it, Clarke, shoot, shoot now!"

Clarke shot, thumb hammering down on the button. She had no idea what kind of retarded game they were playing; from what she'd picked up of the plot, some of the characters came from space, some of the characters lived in savage tribes, and they were all fighting another lot of characters, who had cannibal armies. She didn't know what was going on, but everyone was addicted, and the way it animated Lexa was sort of hilarious. "I'm trying, Lex, I'm - oh my god, it's following me, kill it, kill it, kill it Lexa, Lexa!" Clarke watched her character crumple to the ground. "Motherfuck."

"I think we need a level twelve healer," Lexa frowned.

"I was the level twelve healer!" Clarke yelled. The level ended with a flashing, red 'failed' sign. I know we failed, don't rub it in my face.

"Okay, dorks, my turn." Octavia demanded, snatching Clarke's controller as Lexa offered hers up to Lincoln. "Then we discuss the plan."

Clarke sighed, bitterly revelling in the horror of her demise, scooting back to sit on the floor against the sofa beside Lexa. "The plan?" Clarke asked. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Yeah, the plan," Octavia told her, flicking through the characters to find her custom warrior. "The Mount Weather plan. Operation Freedom. The test bunnies? Come on!"

"I thought we'd heard the last of this." Raven sighed.

"Um," Octavia pressed play on the level. "That was before Clarke became queen in law to the grounders. I figured Lexa could get a bunch more people on board, and boom. Bunny rights central."

"Did you consider asking Lexa?" Lexa wondered.

Bellamy's house had been infiltrated and overrun, but he didn't seem to notice - that grounder girl, Echo, had somehow been dragged into the vortex, and he was debating something with her, crammed into one of the ratty old armchairs. Jasper and Maya were all cutesy and cuddly on the sofa, which they shared with a very awkward third wheel named Monty. Raven was sitting on top of Wick with a DS in hand, smirking and snapping in a way that somehow was adorable on them. Game night had grown. The Christmas tree, dripping bedraggled tinsel and faint fairy lights, shimmered in the corner of her vision.

And for once, Clarke wasn't worrying about Raven, or Finn, or anything else. She was just worrying about kicking cannibal ass with her amazing, amazing, girlfriend.

The night rain cascading down from the heavens tuned out the sounds of gunfire from the TV and Lincoln and Octavia yelling in front of her. It was the Christmas tree that did it, really, the shitty, messy tangle of guady decorations and sparse sparkles winking at her across the stuffed living room, but it was also Lexa. Lexa sitting beside her, smiling so easily, and her friends all around her, somehow having sorted their shit out in time for the holidays.

She clambered to her feet, holding out a hand to help Lexa up. She motioned for her to follow her out into the hallway of Bell's house. ("Stop fucking in my bathroom!" Wick contributed, and Raven smacked his shoulder.)

Once more, Lexa didn't question her. "Okay." Clarke told her, closing the living room door before Octavia's yelling could wreck the mood. She dug in her bag, hanging over one of the hooks by the front door, fishing in the hidden back zip for her smoothest move ever. "I have a Christmas gift for you. Well, I actually have several, but I wanted to give this one to you now, because I know we'll be at home, and we won't see each other in person on Christmas -"

After Christmas, Lexa would move in with Anya. They'd discussed it at length, because, really, living together in the first few months of a relationship was a recipe for disaster. And during the Christmas holidays, hopefully, Clarke would find a way to let her mother in on everything. (And wasn't that going to be fun?) Lexa's smile didn't waver, but when Clarke searched for that romantic, touched look in her eyes, she wasn't disappointed. "I hope you're not trying to guilt trip me, because you're not getting anything a single day too early."

"I'm so glad you said a single day too early." Clarke grinned, but it lasted only second before she felt it soften. She was staring at Lexa, and maybe she'd watched a few too many dumb love stories on Netflix lately, because it seemed to Clarke that she was looking into the future. She was looking into the everything; and with the gentle light of the distant lampposts through curling mist and desperate rain washing over them, distorted by the smudged glass of the hallway window, Clarke realized she had no idea what she'd do without Lexa. Lexa, who hadn't even been looking at her the first time they spoke, shut away from the world, whose ghost-smile as she helped jam shut a dripping window over wet books and tiny cake was imprinted on her brain. Whose soaked coat had crumpled against hers as they crowded under a single umbrella and raced back to their dormitory. Who brought her coffee and art notes even when she was angry, who told her things she probably hadn't told anybody. Lexa who showed her mountains under the sunset and let her hold her hand. Who tolerated Abby, who listened to all her nostalgia and watched the stars with her freezing hand in her freezing hand. Lexa, who she kissed in the snow and followed in the rain. Lexa who she loved, Lexa who loved her back. Lexa who was beautiful and smart and a little bit strange, and who was looking at her now in a way that made Clarke feel like she was immortal. She handed her the box. "You are definitely maybe the best thing that's ever happened to me." She knew Lexa was still scarred when it came to these things, but really, who wasn't? Clarke hadn't even truly been over Finn a few months ago.

Lexa's eyes flickered back to hers before she lifted the lid. In retrospect, Clarke probably should have wrapped the box up. Oh well. I have too much game for wrapping paper to contain. Clarke gave her a reassuring just-open-it-already face, and she lifted the lid off, and Clarke wondered if there was a line she'd crossed, if this was too cheesy, too fucking cheesy.

"And I'm only giving this to you now because I want to put it on you and I am not missing my one chance to turn life into a romcom." Clarke told her, wondering just how Glee was too Glee.

"It's beautiful." Lexa smiled. "But -"

"It's a piece of Mount Weather. Inside it, I mean -" Clarke felt all the blood in her body shoot straight to her mind, dizzyingly, face too hot and prickly. She'd bought the actual necklace online - gold chain and small, spherical gold cage. At first, it was just because she needed more things to buy Lexa, and she was just going to leave it empty, let her put whatever she wanted inside. But then she'd been hiking with Raven, and there were all the rocks, once part of the mountain, crumbling under her feet, and the thought had just hit her, and at the time it seemed like too good an idea to let slide. Now it was just seeming rapidly sillier and sillier. "I was just thinking about what you were saying that time we did laundry. How much you'd miss it if you ever left this town, and now you don't have to." Clarke swallowed, but all the moisture had abandoned her mouth. "It's stupid, actually. You can put whatever you want in there."

"Clarke," Lexa was smiling more with the rest of her than with her lips, which Clarke guessed shouldn't have made sense, but neither should Lexa, and she was the one thing Clarke did understand. "It's perfect." With the box still in her hand, she leaned in to give her a kiss that blasted all her worry out of the water.

Clarke grinned, and the falcons in her stomach seemed friendly, so she let them swarm, her blood warm and tingling. "Are you sure?"

"Now you're just fishing for compliments." Lexa told her. "I don't know why, you know I'll give them to you anyway."

"Let me put this on you." She took the necklace from Lexa, moving her hair out the way and stringing it around her neck. She could feel her pulse dance beneath her fingers; she was in love with the rhythm of it, and the little orchestra of her breathing. "Shit." Clarke's eyebrows drew into a frown.

"What? Is it caught on my hair?" Lexa turned her head slightly try to see what was going on, and that threw Clarke off even more - only her natural reflexes saved it as her fingers darted out to catch the chain before it slipped off.

"Nope." Clarke told her, stubbornly, fiddling with the catch again. It scraped her cuticle and snapped shut before it got where it was supposed to go. A pathetically indignant noise inadvertantly escaped her lips.

"Do you want me to do it?" She could hear the pre-laugh in Lexa's voice.

"I got this." Clarke insisted, grimly determined. The necklace almost slithered out of her grasp as she failed, one more, to hook it into place. "Fuck!" Lexa snorted. "Well, if it's so impossible to put on they should say something on the website!"

"Let me have a go." Lexa tried.

"I was trying to be romantic." Clarke muttered, feeling a bizarre cloud of sulk descend on her as she took a begrudging step back, holding the necklace out to her as Lexa turned around.

Lexa looked as though she was supressing a laugh. She swung the damn thing around her neck, fiddling behind her head for a moment before her hands came away and the chain hung down over her collarbone. Clarke had no idea how she managed to do that. Grounder magic, she supposed. "I think you're very romantic."

"Yeah, well," Clarke muttered. She tried! I'm going to sue that website. "You have to kiss me now and make me feel better."

Lexa's eyes met hers and melted her heart. "Like I wasn't about to anyway."

Clarke felt her smile in every cell of her face, of her body, of her when she leaned in, and they were kissing, beyond the roof, under the same stars they'd mapped from the playground of her childhood. So many weeks after they'd first kissed, and every time Clarke felt that sensation of ressurection - on both sides. Tidal waves, crashing, that glow unfurling, enveloping, the sudden jolt of clarity. Her hands tangled in Lexa's hair without ever asking her brains permission. Her brain didn't seem to be helping anyone these days - and it hadn't from the moment she stepped into that dormitory. She didn't care. God. A year ago, she could never have even imagined meeting somebody like Lexa, let alone loving someone like Lexa.

Because that was the thing - there was nobody like Lexa.

"Can the two girls making out in the hallway please keep it down?" Someone yelled, from upstairs, presumably one of Bellamy's other roommates, and then, quieter, "The gooeyness is killing me."

Lexa drew back slowly, and Clarke lingered in the hallway, allowed herself another eternity submerged in the colour of her eyes. Then she took her hand, and lead her back into the living room, and whatever else would come.