AN: I am in constant awe when I get notified that you all are still interested and continue to follow this story. Thank you so much for that. Like I've said before, I am having a great time writing this one. Thanks for reading.
One Month Later
Lexa promenaded the space of their apartment as she absentmindedly straightened items on shelves, and removed things altogether for safe storage. She shook her head when she realized that not only was it unnecessary, but instead of easing her nerves, the entire fiasco was causing her more stress.
When she received the letter in the mail, she hadn't expected to feel so nervous about a phone conference. Especially because the white envelope she had torn open with jittery fingers, had essentially summarized she was to become the newest client of the Maunon Publishing Company.
Upon discussion and agreement of a few things, of course.
Throwing herself into her favorite seat, the brunette sighed audibly as she re-read over her typed up notes. She wished Clarke could be sitting beside her whispering words of encouragement.
She mentally took note of the tenth tick mark to add to her ever-expanding 'Reasons Why Clarke Isn't Allowed to Leave for Chicago' list, before her phone pulled her from her thoughts.
Closing her eyes momentarily she inhaled and exhaled calmly before hitting the accept button on her screen.
"Alexandria Silva." She answered.
A small chuckle sounded off in her ear. "Since when do you greet me so professionally, D.C.?"
Lexa opened her eyes and released the spent oxygen she had been holding in her burning lungs. "Clarke?" She replied with relief. Had she missed the name on the screen? Yikes.
"The one and only." Clarke responded with a smile Lexa wished she could see in person. "I have a couple of minutes and I wanted to check up on you. Good thing I called too. Seems you might be panicking for no reason." She joked.
The brunette shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Well, seeing as this phone call I'm expecting could set me up or tear me down, I'm allowed a brief moment of utter panic."
Her blonde chuckled on the other end, and Lexa could almost see her eyes roll at her dramatic response. "MPC wants you, Lexa. They've already said so. This is just politics and documentation now."
Despite the encouraging remark, the writer couldn't help but shake her head with doubt. Nothing was ever that simple, was it? But could it be she had more than paid her dues by now?
Clarke was right; this was her moment, her ascension to the throne after having slayed the proverbial dragon.
Feeling suddenly optimistic she nodded. "You're right." She paused to exhale quietly. "It'll be ok."
"That's right." Clarke nodded on her end. "I know everything will be fine."
A brief pause between them allowed for their quiet breaths to mingle across the miles that separated them, and they found peace in it.
"How's Chicago?" Lexa finally asked.
The blonde snorted mordantly before responding. "Freezing."
"Oh, come on, are you telling me that good old California has ruined you for all four-season states already, Virginia?"
"Bite me." The girl quipped with a grin.
"I would, but because you have actual patrons that forced you to abandon me, I can't. And you must suffer for this as much me." She retorted.
Clarke smiled wide. "You miss me already? I've been gone for a day."
"A day is too long, Clarke." The brunette replied automatically, but sincerely. "Don't tell anyone I said that." She covered her weakness for sappiness.
"Your secret's safe with me, babe."
They smiled in unison before Lexa heard the rustling of what could only be Clarke's hand over the mouth speaker on her phone. "Gotta go?" She asked with a hint of sorrow.
"Yeah, the Sinclairs are beckoning me from a far and have sent their evil minion to collect me." The blonde replied light-heartedly.
"My writing is starting to rub off on you."
"I'd much rather have you rub off on me." She whispered into the phone just before the Sinclairs' assistant stopped in front of her with a frustrated glare in place.
"Clarke Griffin what's gotten into you?" The brunette replied in mock horror. "When you get home…"
"I can't wait." Clarke cut her off both because Wick's look was burning a hole through her forehead, and because she couldn't walk into a professional discussion all hot and bothered. "I l…good luck, babe. Talk to you soon."
Lexa stared pensively at the call duration digits that flashed on her screen, her mind reeling from the possibility that her ear had indeed heard correctly. That just for a fleeting second, Clarke had been on the verge of saying she loved her.
Little did she know that a couple of thousand miles away, Clarke made her way through a crowded art gallery, wishing she could have said it, while her heart beat thunderously inside her chest.
Her bittersweet turmoil was short-lived as she saw her phone light up, the number unmistakably announcing it was the call she had been waiting for.
"Alexandria Silva." She answered for the second time.
"Thank you for agreeing to take our call, Ms. Silva. How are you?" The woman's greeting sounded promising. A stark contrast to the way their call had started off when they rejected her work months ago.
Lexa couldn't help the buildup and ultimate release of a long quiet sigh before she spoke again. "Of course, Ms. Spencer. I'm doing well, excited to start this partnership. A bit nervous, too, I suppose." She admitted with a soft chortle.
"We're equally as excited. And don't worry, the anxiety will pass once we're done tonight."
The writer hoped that was a true declaration because she would like nothing better than to sleep peacefully after it was all said and done.
It was a longer call than either party had expected in the end.
What started off being a conversation about how well written the entire story was, and how the general feel and mood was exactly what MPC was looking for, swiftly turned into a multiple person analysis and critique of the work.
While Lexa was admittedly not fond of how the group did their initial reviewing, she quickly settled into a conventional back and forth of ideas with them.
"Give and take, Ms. Silva. This is a simple process that makes the world go 'round." Mr. Wallace interrupted the two women for the third time in the span of five minutes.
Lexa heaved a sigh away from her phone before she sunk back into her plush seat. "I can see you and I are not going to agree on this, but Ms. Spencer's idea sounds much more appealing to me, with all due respect." She shook her head and swallowed the urge to finish her sentence off with a resounding 'so fuck you'.
Ms. Spencer cleared her throat to continue where she and the writer had left off before they were cut off. "So, we agree that the ending has to be a close-loop ending?"
Careful consideration had the brunette tripping over her words, quietly and invisibly mapping out a pros and cons chart in the air. After a few minutes of silence, and in spite of the little voice in her head that told her to hang up, she decided to agree. "Yes. I will rewrite the ending to meet those demands, but with the condition that nothing else be changed or requested to be amended. My characters, my story, they all come alive because of my attention to every detail. I'm afraid if I skip around to change things, I'll end up scrapping the entire thing and starting from scratch so it's easier to understand in my head."
The two people on the other end looked at each other with impressed glances. Alexandria Silva was not only a great writer, but a true connoisseur of the craft. People like her were not to be taken lightly, and their work was definitely not something you modified on a whim.
Willing to agree to her terms, Wallace nodded along with Ms. Spencer. "Very well, Ms. Silva." He paused. "Welcome to MPC."
Lexa allowed herself to lean further into the sofa before closing her eyes in sweet victory. The feeling of accomplishment coursed through her and ignited a flame of pride she had never been truly acquainted with. "Thank you, Ms. Spencer, Mr. Wallace. I am pleased to be on board with your company."
"Great." Mr. Wallace replied. "We will have to meet to negotiate the monetary deals and to take care of the paperwork, but you are part of the team now."
"Thank you again." The brunette replied. "I will bring the edited ending with me. We can discuss any doubts or concerns about it then, if it's alright with both of you."
After approving once again, the call ended with an amicable and professional goodbye.
Sitting in the dark now, with only her laptop's glowing screen illuminating the room, Lexa allowed herself to cry. She cried because of the joy, she cried because of the sorrow, but mostly she cried because she feared her body and creative soul had been teetering on the edge of defeat for so long. And though she foresaw a long and strenuous road still, her path was clearly visible to her now, and that made her feel incredibly relieved.
She only wished Clarke could celebrate the feelings along with her.
Lexa: I can't wait for my onion rings and warm bath. ;)
The brunette watched the message as it was sent to her girlfriend, knowing she was likely walking around with potential buyers and enthusiasts, not having access to a phone call.
A sense of longing ran deep inside before she shook her head and decided to create an outlet for the sudden spike in emotions.
Lexa: I need a drink, who wants to join me at Polis?
Her friends were the other constant in Lexa's life, and she was grateful when most replied quickly taking her up on the invitation.
It was a good time at Polis Billiards as Lexa and her friends, including their maternal boss Indra, joined in a toast to congratulate her on the achievement.
Later that night, her intoxicated smile sobered up immediately when she re-read the same text a million times.
Clarke: The things I'm going to do to you to celebrate are too many to count. XOXO
Lexa is trying exceptionally hard not to compare everyone to her girlfriend.
It might be in vain mostly, but she has managed to work efficiently alongside the current server for the first time in the past three nights. And it's a good thing because it has allowed her to keep her mind on the drinks she rustles together expertly rather than on Clarke's absence.
The fact that her regulars bring the blonde up habitually doesn't help however, but she's trudging along and tracking the hours.
Which by her count, they had eighteen hours left before they could see each other again.
"When is my pretty girl coming back?" Her usual asked after tossing back a drink with a partial grimace.
Lexa shook her head. So much for sticking to making the drinks. "Do we need to go over this again, Bruce? Clarke is my pretty girl, please get your own." She teased with a smirk.
Bruce feigned insult and smiled. "I'd rather not. They'd keep all my money, and then how would I get my daily dose of Daniel's?"
Unable to hide the smile on her face, the bartender chuckled softly and nodded at him. "Good point." She served him another shot of the whiskey and pushed it towards him. "Without you, I'd be broke."
A dopey smile graced his reddened face. "Cheers to that." He raised his glass and took it down, providing the brunette with the levity she needed. "I hope she's coming back soon because you look about as good as I do on a lonely night." He slurred.
"Gee, thanks Bruce." Lexa responded with a lopsided smirk. "And here I thought I was doing a good job at masking my misery." She shook her head. "Luckily she's back tomorrow."
The man nodded with a smile. "Lucky you."
"Yes, lucky me. And no goggling alright?" She pointed a finger at him in mock warning, although she did feel a bit compelled to sound serious- defending her girl's honor and all of that good stuff.
"Of course not." He surrendered with a drunken but blank expression. "She's all yours, Lexy."
One thing was for sure, there was never a dull night at Tassels.
Clarke smiled politely every time one of the Sinclairs would make eye contact with her over the dinner table, but she couldn't be more distracted if a celebrity suddenly traipsed into the restaurant naked.
Her mind worked in partial division, one half glued to the conversation that was being held by her peers and business acquaintances, and the other wondering what Lexa was doing.
She ached to be home with her. Because while the Sinclairs and their business associates were friendly enough, and had the potential to make her a big name in their world (which didn't sound half bad honestly), they just didn't hold a candle to her brunette.
No one in her presence the past few days had her eyes, or her subtle smile, or even her chestnut waves. Not a single person could ever come close, and to make matters worse, the taste of unsaid words in her mouth made her anxious to let them loose.
To the point, she just wanted to be with Lexa and tell her how she felt.
Her mind wandered some more when the discussion began to take a more quiet turn as they reflected on the names Monet and Seurat. Clarke herself could hold a decent conversation on both painters of course, but the vibrating of her phone in her clutch pulled her way from it altogether.
She excused herself from the table with another smile and made for the nearest door. Luckily, the exit led to a private patio decorated with several sectionals and arm chairs.
Quietly taking a seat, she instantly smiled at the text she had just received.
Lexa: I hate everyone that reminded me you weren't at Tassels…again. :(
Clarke: Awww. I'll make Bruce pay for that, I promise.
A few seconds later a reply came through.
Lexa: Nah, I'll just charge him double for the shots next time. ;-)
Clarke: You're so evil, Silva.
Lexa: When it involves you, people better be cautious…
Clarke: Defending my honor, again, I see.
Lexa: Always. 3
Clarke's heart skipped a beat when she read the message. People used hearts in texts all of the time, sure, but her mind couldn't help but fire away with thoughts of Lexa's love for her.
She struggled for a few seconds to come up with an adequate response, wondering briefly if the brunette was on the other end sweating from her palms as much as she was.
Clarke: Wouldn't want it any other way, babe. XO
The blonde smiled nervously as she waited for another text.
Lexa: I can't wait to meet you at the airport tomorrow.
Clarke: Will you meet me with flowers?
Lexa: We both know I'm the anthophile, Clarke.
Clarke: Fine. What do you call a person who really really likes brunette's named Alexandria Silva?
Lexa: A cheater. There better not be another brunette with that name who you really really like.
Clarke: Idiot.
Lexa: Thanks.
Clarke: It wasn't a compliment.
Lexa: Yeah, but you know you love me anyway. ;-p
Both girls fiddled with the device in their hands, thrilled and mortified with the fiery dance they had just stepped into.
The cluster of butterflies that descended into the pit of their stomachs down from their throats made both smile wider at their screens.
Perhaps it wasn't the time or the manner to disclose such sensitive information, but neither girl could see any harm in the verbal foreplay they were engaged in.
Clarke: Maybe I do…you big dork. ;)
Lexa: Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.
Clarke rolled her eyes at that one before she laughed softly to herself.
Clarke: Gotta go, I see my dinner group getting anxious for my return.
Lexa: Chicken.
Clarke fought the urge to end her text with THE 'l' word for the third time in as many days, something she found fascinating given she hadn't really used it with anybody in a really long time. Yet, with Lexa, it had almost become a natural feeling, wanting to say it or spell it out for her during their talks. The blonde couldn't see herself fighting it for much longer.
Clarke: Whatever. Good night. Muah.
She smiled again when she read Lexa's goodnight text, this time adorned with the kiss emoji blowing her a heart.
Things were getting intense, and it awakened so much inside of the artist that she wished she could hop on a plane then and there.
When she walked back to the table, she realized the group had moved on to less artistic topics and were currently engrossed in talking dessert.
She smiled apologetically before sitting and ordering the same thing as the rest of them for the final course.
The group all chatted over servings of lemon poppy cheesecake, something Clarke had never tasted in her life.
"This is delicious." She commented with a pleased expression.
Jacapo Sinclair simply nodded with a matching look.
"So, Clarke, would you ever move back to Virginia?" One of the men at the table began as he sophisticatedly wolfed down the helpless dessert before him. She laughed in her head at the visual of a small cheesecake flailing its tiny arms (which for some reason were made of stick like a snowman's…odd).
Clarke smiled respectfully before shaking her head. "I don't see myself calling it home any time soon."
Meeting Clarke outside of her arrival gate had proved more difficult than Lexa had anticipated.
The throng of passengers making their way to and from the gates made it difficult for the brunette to get much further than the main doors. So, she opted for texting her girlfriend her location instead.
Her plan was somewhat thwarted, but she hoped Clarke would have a laugh nonetheless.
As the minutes ticked by, she made sure to keep a watchful eye on the crowd that exited the terminal. When she spotted the unmistakable strands of blonde, she pulled the bouquet from behind her back and pulled her lips up in smug grin.
"Welcome home." Lexa uttered with an outstretched arm, the makeshift arrangement coming inches from Clarke's nose. "I brought you flowers."
Shaking her head while laughing, the blonde accepted the gift. "I don't know whether to give you brownie points or take them away for this one, Lexa." She admitted before looking away from the 'flowers' long enough to meet the brunette's waiting mouth.
Their kiss was short and sweet, but they smiled as wide as possible before they walked hand in hand to the parking garage.
"So, do you like the flowers?" Lexa asked when they entered her car.
Taking another look at the bouquet that was still in her hand, she laughed with a nod. "They're beautiful." The flowers, or the ones Lexa insisted on calling flowers rather, were actually a dozen print outs of her face glued to skewer sticks. A red ribbon neatly tied into a bow held everything together.
"Nailed it, right?" Lexa replied.
Clarke continued to laugh softly. "Totally."
They drove for a while with the radio being the soundtrack to their thoughts before Lexa looked over at her girlfriend.
"I really missed you." She flashed her a lopsided smile.
The blonde nodded. "I missed you too. A lot."
"Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
"Good because you owe me some onion rings." Lexa replied with a grin.
As they walked in to their diner, and made their way towards their favorite booth, the girls talked about Chicago.
Clarke told Lexa about the buyers that were eager to own some of her work, and had requested a custom piece as a form of test. She mentioned she had accepted, pending their official deadline and buying price.
"That's great, Clarke." The brunette commented after she bit into an onion ring. "So, what is it they requested?"
The blonde smiled. "They want a landscape canvas of the redwoods."
"Really?" Lexa looked at her puzzled. "That's what they chose?"
After nodding, Clarke took a bite of her burger. "Yup. Care to go to the Sequoias with me?"
Her girlfriend nodded eagerly. "That sounds like fun. We can camp out and everything."
With wide eyes the girl replied. "No, no, no. I'm not camping. I'm not that outdoorsy." She glared at the girl across from her when she laughed softly at her.
"Fine. No camping." She relented. "But we're renting a cabin."
They continued to dig in to their food in silence as they shared dopey smiles across the table. When Clarke ordered a milkshake to share with her girlfriend, she opened another discussion.
"So, you mentioned you were going to tell me specifics about the MPC call when I returned." She smiled softly. "How was it? What did they say? You know, besides that you're the best writer they've ever had the pleasure of working with." She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously to bait the brunette into talking, tearing her away from the rather delicious looking beer-battered onion ring.
Lexa smiled and shook her head before setting the onion ring down. "They really liked the story, but they have an issue with the ending."
Clarke knitted her brows in question.
"They don't want an open ending like I had. They felt it would be smarter to tie everything together in a neat bow for the end."
The blonde shook her head. "How difficult was that for you to agree to?"
Rolling her eyes and releasing a heavy sigh she looked at the artist. "Extremely. I worked so hard for that ending. You know it's taken me this long to end it, and now they want me to change that. I know what they want is exactly the ending I was trying to avoid."
"I get it." Clarke nodded. "I know what it feels like not to be satisfied with what you created, or struggling to find the finishing touches." Lexa nodded along with her. "But I think you can come up with an ending that works for both you and MPC."
"I know I can, but I have three weeks. I must re-read everything to make sure the ending doesn't contradict or ignore anything that happened prior. It's going to take me some time."
"You can do it." Clarke paused to take a sip of the milkshake. "And it'll be fun…we get to work on our stuff together." She smiled.
Swallowing the mouthful of milkshake, Lexa grinned. "Don't we always work on our stuff together?"
"Jerk."
They looked at each other musingly, both struggling with the desire to utter three simple words as they continued their playful banter.
It was going to be hell until one of them could take the gamble and just let go.
TBC…
Lexa is finally getting her chance! She's in! And it looks like Clarke is going to finally feel what working for pay feels like with her art. Amazing. These two are looking to be having the time of their lives soon. I'm loving it. I hope you all are too. So, question, how long do you guys think it'll be before these two say the words? I feel it. It's gotta be soon. Do you guys think it'll be dramatic? Sappy? Cute? Mellow? All of the aforementioned? Also, I want a bouquet of those Lexa flowers. LOL.
