listen, today has been so wild i can't even word it. i woke up and i choked on my own saliva when i saw eliza's tweet, and i legitimately thought it was a hack until i saw bob and then rottenbart's tweets. i'm like - it's all just so funny to me and i'm so glad i stan adc more than i stan eliza taylor. cw is so wild - it's like an orgy network wow i can't even kjfhekijewoj

but anyway, whatever the fuck is going on with that show and that network, my clexa ass stays. i was actually even thinking of postponing the posting of this chapter until a couple of weeks later, but i figure y'all probably need a little relief from that in the form of clexa fics - and i am here to oblige.

now, read, ponder, and forget about the fact that they actually got married holy fucking shit cw is just filled with cheaters huh what the fuck aren't we glad alycia got out before the contagion got to her omfg

"I can't."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, you can."

"No, I can't," Marcus said a little regrettably, but regret wasn't going to do shit in this situation. "Clarke, I understand, and I apologize. But I can't."

"Marcus, he almost killed a patient."

"I will keep his name off the board from now on. He will only perform routine check-ups and nothing that requires him in the OR."

Gaping at the Chief of Surgery, Clarke couldn't quite believe that she had heard those words right. Just yesterday, she had been having a pretty good time. A very good time. One of the best times she had had in her entire life, if she was to be honest.

She couldn't help but felt some of her anger subside when she remembered how…utterly relaxed Lexa had been in her presence, unguarded and completely enamored with the puppies they had brought out to the beach. There was even a brief moment when she wanted to just give up all her decorum and lean forward to kiss the princess – a very brief moment that was interjected by the rationality that Lexa was definitely not ready for that kind of advancement yet.

Then Clarke had come back to work today, ready to do the first thing she had promised Finn Collins she'd do that night. She marched into Marcus Kane's office, calmly explained to him all that had happened, and demanded that proper punishment ought to be carried out, like, say, revoking his license as a medical practitioner and never let him anywhere near a hospital again.

"Did you hear what I said?" she asked, feeling the fire rise in her.

Marcus sighed and took off his glasses, as if this was hurting him. "Clarke, this is a complicated –"

"There is nothing complicated about the fact that Dr. Finn Collins almost killed a woman in the OR because he couldn't concentrate well enough. He is a disaster on two legs. He will end up killing someone in the future."

"Let's not be dramatic."

She raised her brows, daring him to say something more to bolster that claim. Smart enough as he was, Marcus knew to shut up.

"He is Dante Wallace's nephew."

Ah, Clarke got it now.

The Wallace family was, by no means, a big name in the medical industry. A business clan, through and through – development, mergers, food and beverages; you name it, they probably had their hands in it. If Clarke remembered correctly, the son, Cage Wallace, was involved in a hit-and-run that took a pregnant woman's life, but he got away with a slap on the hand in the form of community service and major compensation to the family. They were repulsive people.

They weren't much invested in the medical industry – not yet, at least – but the Wallace family was a big benefactor of Silver Hill. They sponsored medical equipment. Catered to parties. Funded the renovations. Introduced family members to accept treatment here.

Clarke had never understood why; she supposed she did now. And much as she hated it, she understood why Marcus was so reluctant. Still, "And?"

Marcus' brows twitched in slight irritation. "If I get rid of Collins now, this hospital will lose its biggest benefactor. We won't be able to run at all, let alone treat patients." Hearing those words come out of his mouth in that clipped accent of his only served to irritate her more. "I don't like it, but this hospital needs the money."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"Excuse me?"

She shook her head and gave herself some time to look around the huge office that Marcus was set up in. She absorbed the classy décor and the expensive furniture, the comfortable carpet and the nice as hell on-call room he had in the corner.

Lifting her hand, she absentmindedly waved it around the room. "The money from the Wallaces gave you this, huh?"

"Clarke –"

"I came to Silver Hill because I didn't want to work with my mother."

"Now –"

"Guess I forgot that you two are one and the same. That's why you're trying to sleep with her, right?"

"Dr. Griffin," he pronounced sternly, and Clarke had never seen Marcus so angry before, positively livid and looking like he was on the brink of leaping to his feet and yelling at her. Good. "I advise you to what you say next very carefully."

She clenched her jaw and licked her lower lip, standing up herself. "And I –" she adjusted the lapels of her coat and eyed him coldly "– advise you to watch Finn Collins carefully. If you don't do something about it, I assure you he is going to kill somebody eventually. And when that happens, not even all of the Wallaces' bullshit money can save you."

Before Marcus could chastise her for her less than graceful language, Clarke marched out of his office and to the nurse's station. Thankfully, her credentials were enough to access the logs for other doctors' current patients. If Marcus wasn't going to do something about it, the least she could do was make sure that Finn didn't another high-risk patient.

At the end of her shift, she had pretty much taken over two-thirds of Finn's patients, filling up her repertoire almost to the brim, and she could feel herself just about ready to collapse when the clock finally struck six in the morning and released her from her shift.

She had read through all of the notes that the interns had made, barely any from Finn Collins himself, and wondered how the fuck had this teaching hospital managed to hire such an incompetent doctor. The Wallaces may be powerful, but they couldn't be this powerful – there had to be some form of checks and balances that are actually ethical at the top. For a long moment, Clarke had to wonder if she made the right decision to join this hospital at all.

She made a mental note to call Niylah as she walked out of the hospital. She was just about to turn left where it would lead her to the park when a hand roughly grabbed her arm and swung her around, confronting her with a livid Finn Collins.

Oh goodie.

"What the hell, Clarke?" he hissed, almost right up to her face.

She took one look into his mouth and grimaced. "I may not be a dentist, Finn, but I think you should visit one."

"All of my patients?"

"You still have some rectal issues and bowel problems left on your list."

"Clarke."

"You're lucky you even still have a job, Finn," she hissed right back at him, tired of his incessant habit of complaining and inability to see his own faults. "You're lucky that you have Dante Wallace backing you," she added, quieter this time, relishing in his surprised blink. She smirked. "What? You think I wouldn't find out?"

He clenched his jaw, eyes growing darker. "I swear to god –"

"Is there a problem here?"

They spun around back up the way that led back to the hospital to see Octavia and Lincoln there, looking simultaneously confused and unhappy at they were looking at. Clarke had to bite back her surprise from seeing her best friend and the literal prince standing outside the hospital she was working at, because there was something more important that she was dealing with. She took the chance to step back from Finn and cleared her throat.

"No, Finn was just heading back to work." At that, she shot the man a pointed look. "Isn't he?"

Finn was still gaping at the fact that he was looking at the prince in the flesh. She wouldn't really blame him. Not even a week ago, he met the second princess of the country in the garden.

People needed time to process that kind of thing. She knew she inhaled two tubs of vanilla ice-cream after Lexa had left Libya six months ago to even accept that she had actually met the princess. Still, he could inhale his ice-cream at some other time. Now, she needed him to get the hell away from her face before she actually revealed his secrets to the actual prince.

There were things to be done. Procedures to go through. Niylah to call. But telling members of the monarchy was definitely the very last resort to handle this whole mess.

Fortunately, Finn only nodded meekly and even bowed at Lincoln for like five seconds. Clarke and Octavia's eyes met as Lincoln stared at Finn with increasing horror, and they had to keep their cool to not burst out laughing at the sight. Then the failing doctor stood up straight, cleared his throat, shot the blonde a desperate look, and scurried back the way he had just come, leaving the three of them standing by the sidewalk.

As soon as Finn was out of sight, Clarke sobered up immediately. "Your Highness –"

"Lincoln," he corrected, though he still looked confused. "I am Lincoln to my sister's…friends."

She gulped, even blushed a little, as she understood the meaning behind his hesitation. "Lincoln," she breathed, shooting a short glance at Octavia, "please don't tell Lexa about what you just saw."

If there was anything that Clarke had learned about their last encounter near the Avicenna statue, it was that Lexa did not take too kindly to threats. And it wasn't that Clarke wanted to brag about it, but she definitely did not mistake the undercurrent that had been building between her and the princess since the moment Clarke had chosen to stay as requested.

So Clarke was pretty sure that if Lexa heard about this, this entire hospital would have a storm coming. And she didn't want that. Despite the power play, she liked it here – the people, the patients, the things she got to do.

"Who was that?"

"Finn," Octavia offered.

"Nobody," Clarke replied at the same time. The two best friends shared a long look – one of desperation and another of consternation. She sucked in a deep breath and calmed her mind that had spiraled at the wild turn this whole thing had taken, facing Lincoln again. "That was no one. It was nothing. I can handle it myself. Lexa's got a lot on her plate. There's no need for her to worry about more."

"We both know she'll always care about you."

"Exactly," she admitted and extended a hand in his direction like he had just proven her point. "Please."

Lincoln was certainly displeased with her request. If they were closer, he would probably ignore her, even. But they weren't. They had literally just met like two days ago. Granted, surrounded by puppies, and puppies were known to be great bonding agents, but two days ago. They met once because they both cared about Lexa, and now, he was outside her hospital with her best friend.

The prince nodded in reluctant acquiescence.

She smiled widely and stuck her hands together in front of her chest in thankful gesture. "Thank you." She licked her lips and glanced oddly at Octavia, who at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Now, I just finished a very long shift and I'd very much like to go home. It's, uh, nice to see you again…Lincoln."

"We're talking about this later," Octavia shot at her as she took retreating steps down the sidewalk.

"Oh, we're not," Clarke remarked with a smirk.

If she had her way, Finn would be the last thing they'd be talking about when the three of them finally got together.

The sun had just gone halfway down from its midpoint above their heads when she woke up for a new day. Clarke lazed around in bed for awhile, hoping that it would help in getting all the uncomfortable kinks out and delay having to think about the latest dilemma she was forced to take on at the hospital.

Once she had convinced herself there was no more escaping and the music was becoming increasingly loud in her head, she pulled herself out of bed and started the coffee machine in the kitchen as she scrolled down her contact list to find her once-upon-a-bedmate's.

She didn't wait for any greeting when the call was finally picked up, launching immediately into, "Hypothetically, you have explicit knowledge of a medical practitioner's wrongful behavior and, honestly, unethical misdemeanor, what do you have to do about it?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the call, and then she heard Niylah whispering inaudibly and some shuffling of papers and the muffled click of the door. "I would have thought you would have run out of hypotheticals after getting your board certification."

Clarke closed her eyes with a huff, mumbling gibberish gratitude when the coffee had finished percolating and going ahead to pour herself a fresh cup of piping hot black caffeine. She pinned the phone between her ear and shoulder as her hands began to toss in sugar and creamer because she wasn't a monster.

"Trust me, me too," she grumbled as she started stirring the coffee.

"Do I want to know?"

"It's hypothetical."

"Are you in trouble?"

"Hypothetical, Niylah."

"You remember that you're literally best friends with a princess, right?"

She abandoned the spoon to lift a finger in the air, even though Niylah wouldn't be able to see it, but she was still trying to make her points. "One: she's not my best friend." Best friends were Raven and Octavia, occasionally even Niylah and Bellamy. Lexa was not her best friend; she was decidedly more – not that Clarke would tell anyone that. Then she lift another finger. "Two: it's hypothetical."

Niylah sighed loudly, because they had known each other since that certain sorority party in junior year and she knew Clarke very well. "The Council would consider you to be an accomplice by accessory," Niylah said. "It works the same for all doctors, including mental health specialists."

Clarke bit her lower lip and hummed. "Okay, so hypothetically, I tried to report to the Chief of Surgery, but they refuse –"

"You mean he."

"They," Clarke emphasized, closing her eyes and quietly decrying Niylah's intelligence, "refuse to do anything about it, because funding plays a role."

Niylah took some time to contemplate the situation that Clarke had just laid out for her. The doctor had been using hypotheticals because there was no way she would put Niylah in the position where she'd have to choose between ethics and her friend.

But the two of them knew fully well that this was long past hypothetical – still, Clarke chose to stick to it, if only to save her friend from dipping a whole foot into it.

The psychiatrist heaved an audible sigh over the phone and cleared her throat. "Clarke, hypothetically, based on everything you had just told me, you need to go to the Council. They can try to cover up as much as possible – money is very useful, I know that very well. But paper can't hold the fire for long, and sooner or later, someone will find out, and you'll be dragged into it. And you will lose your license."

Clarke kept her eyes closed, squeezing them shut tighter, as she contemplated a future as anything other than a doctor.

"Thanks, Niylah."

"Clarke," the psychiatrist said with a warning tone in her voice.

Clarke heaved a sigh and finally opened her eyes as she resumed stirring the coffee. "I'll be fine."

"I swear to hypothetical god that I will hypothetically beat you up if you hypothetically get fired. Maybe even hypothetically kill you."

Unable to help herself, the doctor burst into peals of laughter. When she calmed down, she said, "I think you're taking hypotheticals a little too far."

"You started it," Niylah deadpanned. "Take care of yourself, Griffin."

Once they had hung up, Clarke leaned back against the counter and started sipping on some sweet, wonderful, awakening coffee. Her mind began to resume its tour to a future without her boards certification, without the job of being a doctor.

Well, she could draw, she supposed, but it had been quite some time since she actually picked up a pen and do something other than random doodles.

But while drawing could be cathartic and much more calming than being a doctor, she hated the idea of losing that thrill that came with being a doctor, especially a trauma surgeon. Much as she hated to say it, Clarke had grown addicted to it. To the rush of new patients and new dilemmas and new complications. It got her heart pumping and her mind racing like nothing else. And she loved it.

Five hours had gone past since she sat herself down in front of her laptop and made herself draft the email that could save her career and ruin another's. Five hours, and she had only managed to come up with the words 'to whom it may concern'.

No one ever said she was a proficient writer. This was why she was a doctor. Her chicken scratch penmanship and barely passing grades during English class should be telling enough.

She was still staring at the blinker and cursing herself for not paying attention to Mrs. Hummings during a letter writing class in third grade, when her phone buzzed next to the third empty cup of coffee that she had drained today. No sleep was being had tonight, which wouldn't do well with her shift tomorrow evening, but fuck that.

Without looking at the caller ID, she picked it up and said, maybe a little too harshly, "What?"

"Um, are you okay?"

It took awhile, but there was no way Clarke wouldn't recognize that voice. "Oh, Lexa, hey!" she greeted, her harsh tone immediately shifting into one of surprise and gladness.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

Clarke blinked. "Yeah, I'm…" She drifted off, finding herself hitting a little roadblock. Was it considered treason to lie to the princess even though it didn't really concern the princess? Plus, Clarke didn't really want to lie to Lexa. "It's been a confusing day," she decided. "Why do you ask?"

"I just – I don't know how to explain it, but I've been feeling weird all day, and somehow I kind of thought it has to do with you." Without having to see the princess in the flesh, Clarke knew that Lexa was feeling hesitant. Doubtful. Uncertain. "Sorry if I'm overstepping, though."

"No, no!" Clarke quickly corrected her.

Honestly, she didn't know what to feel at the idea of Lexa being able to feel that something weird was going on all the way over at the palace. If Clarke was a more superstitious person, she would have just thought of things like soulmates or connections. But Clarke was scientific person – she was a doctor, all about facts and truths and chemistry.

This was no science. This was just…romantic.

She smiled and flicked herself in the forehead lightly for even daring to think it. "Thank you for calling. I am okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Good."

"Go –"

Clarke shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. Would she ever be a normal person when she was talking to Lexa? Probably not.

Just two days ago, she had definitely revealed to Lexa that she and Niylah used to sleep with each other, even though it had been a plan to keep it under wraps forever. She was being ridiculous – Alexandria Woods was driving her crazy, and Clarke was pretty sure she wanted to keep being crazy.

"How are you?"

"Oh, I'm – I'm – I'm good. Yeah, it's uh – I mean, yeah, I'm okay too," Lexa stuttered.

Clarke could only think that she was adorable. And kind of sad. Lexa had, obviously, been taken aback by the blonde's turning the question round back to her, not expecting to be asked of her own state of mind.

And Clarke had to wonder how often was Lexa ever asked how she was without any motives other than to truly know how she was. She wanted to know if the princess had anyone else who genuinely wanted her to be as happy and comfortable as possible with no ulterior motives, apart from her family and giant of a bodyguard. Clarke wanted to offer herself up as all of those things, just so Lexa knew that she had other people too.

"Why confusing?"

"Huh?"

"You said it's been a confusing day," Lexa remarked.

"Oh, I –" Clarke reached up to scratch at her temple as she considered her words and what she could tell Lexa without giving everything up. "It's just…work," she mumbled, adding on a sigh. It wasn't just work – it was ethics and the hospital and her career and the corporate reality that had gripped onto even the best country that she could think of. But it wasn't like she could tell Lexa those things. "I'm finding it hard to make a decision that shouldn't be hard."

Lexa hummed, like she knew something about it. Sometimes, Clarke forgot that the princess was actually a veteran. Someone who had been to an actual battlefield, killed people, nearly lost a leg in the name of the country her father ruled, and had to now use a cane to compensate for said damaged leg. Lexa definitely knew about making difficult choices than Clarke, that was for sure.

On any other day, if Lexa was any other person, Clarke would try to pick her brain and see what she could do.

But this was not any other day and Lexa was not any other person. Lexa Woods was daughter of King Richmond the Third. They pretty much set the law for the running of the country, including the healthcare services that were provided in this country, which did not exclude Silver Hill. It was probably even worse that Silver Hill was a teaching hospital.

This was her own battle to fight, blood or no blood. Plus, Clarke wasn't lying when she told Lincoln that she didn't want to add on to his sister's already very full plate.

"Hey, so I'm suddenly craving some Big Mac," Lexa suddenly said.

The blonde blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Um, okay?"

"You wanna share one with me?"

Another blink. And then a disbelieving laughter escaped her throat. This was the oddest and yet most relieving thing to happen to her. This whole day, Clarke had been feeling so heavy and so at odds with herself and the world, not even knowing that she secretly wanted something to come and take her mind off it.

Not even knowing that she wanted that something in the form of Lexa's voice in her ear, calming and soothing and oh so velvety.

"I'll be right there."

the only marriage i care about is "i swear fealty to you clarke kom skaikru i vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people"

holy fucking shit i cannot even lmaooooooooo i still haven't stopped laughing i'm laughing while writing this author's note TODAY HAS BEEN WILD GOOD FUCKING BYE