A/N: A very belated second part. Thank you for all the attention :) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The 100 :(
PART 2
Lexa smirked at the look on Clarke's face. She wasn't fooled by the dazed and confused routine. Obviously, the blonde princess hadn't expected her to know. She probably hadn't even made the connection between her and Anya. They did have different last names, after all.
Suddenly, Clarke was on her feet and striding out of the room with purpose. Lexa rolled her eyes. Typical princess dramatics.
Wait. What if she's going to be really childish and tell on me or something?
She wouldn't put it past Clarke to be so petty so she quickly turned out of the room and walked down the hallway to Marcus Kane's office. The door was already open, Clarke having clearly just barged in.
Unbelievable. Just because they're family friends she thinks that she can do what she wants. I bet she didn't even interview for her job here. Griffins and their connections.
She scoffed and stood next to the door, waiting for the whining and sobbing.
Only, it didn't come. Instead, Lexa was the one that was surprised.
Clarke didn't even bother knocking on Marcus' door. She pushed it open and let it bang against the wall.
"Clarke?" Marcus frowned. "What's the matter?"
"Did you know about the fundraiser thrown by my dad's company four years ago?"
Marcus blinked, but Clarke knew him well enough to know that his masked surprise was just a way for him to formulate an answer.
"Do not bullshit with me right now, Marcus. If I find out that you had anything to do with this, I-"
"Okay, just calm down-"
"Calm down? You want me to calm down? I just found out that someone embezzled two million dollars through my father's company!"
Marcus stood up. "Just close the door and-"
"No! You're going to tell me what happened, and you're going to tell me now!"
Marcus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "The intentions were genuine. Your mother wanted to raise the money after…you know, and Thelonious came up with the idea for the company to throw a fundraiser."
"Fucking Jaha," Clarke seethed. "Was my mother involved in this?"
"No, no," Marcus assure her quickly. "No, she had no idea."
"What a clusterfuck. Where is the money now?"
"You'd have to ask Thelonious."
"How was this kept from me?"
Marcus looked at her with a soft gaze. "Clarke, that was such a difficult time for you. Thelonious thought he had gotten away with it."
"But you knew," Clarke whispered, hurt. "You're like family, Marcus. How could you betray us like that?"
Marcus opened his mouth and closed it again. He hung his head. "Greed, Clarke. A man's greatest weakness."
Clarke wiped away the tears that were readily falling down her cheeks. "You are dead to me. I don't want you anywhere near my house, my mother or my son. Are we clear?"
She waited until she got a nod before turning on her heel and walking out. She halted when she saw Lexa standing against the wall.
"Clarke, I-"
"Guess you got more than you bargained for, huh?" Clarke choked out, desperately holding the tears at bay. "I hope you're happy now, Lexa."
Only stopping to grab her phone and bag from the boardroom, the distraught blonde barrelled through people to get out of the building as quickly as possible.
Clarke didn't know.
She had no idea.
Well, not anymore. Lexa had seen pretty well to that.
"Fuck," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand.
Things had escalated way beyond what she had anticipated. Maybe Clarke actually was innocent. Clearly, there was a lot about Clarke that Lexa didn't know.
A son?
A son?
Clarke Griffin was a mother?
But how? Who? When?
As Lexa slowly walked back to the boardroom, she flashed back to the look on Clarke's face when she'd walked out of Marcus' office.
What have I done?
All the anger that she'd held towards the Griffins for years… Could that anger have been completely misplaced? Could Thelonious Jaha have been the real bad guy the whole time?
Shit.
Lexa grabbed her phone off the table and dialled a number that she hadn't dared dial in several months. It rang five times before someone answered.
"Hey, it's me," Lexa began. "I have… I need to ask you something."
Clarke took a long drink from the bottle of vodka in her hand, wincing at the taste. She hadn't had any hard liquor in almost five years. The events of the morning had warranted something considerably stronger than her usual non-alcoholic beer.
A watery laugh escaped her. What a joke her life had become. A mother at twenty, and a family scandal to the tune of two million dollars, embezzled through her father's company.
"I just keep racking up the good decisions," she muttered. "Fucking Jaha."
She knew she needed to get more of the facts, but at that moment, she felt like she couldn't trust anyone. Not Marcus, not Wells, not even her mother.
And sure as hell not Lexa.
"Fucking bitch," Clarke choked out, a few tears escaping. She wasn't sure why, but the fact that Lexa had been the one to divulge this huge secret had made it hurt a lot more. Or maybe it was the way she'd delivered it…
Clarke shook her head, feeling it swim a little before settling. Her gaze lifted to the family portrait hanging over the fireplace in their living room. Her bottom lip trembled.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I messed everything up. I should have been here. I should've…"
I should have not disappeared out of the country to have my baby.
The shame ran over Clarke in waves. She'd made so many bad decisions. She thought she'd finally started rectifying her mistakes by focusing on building a bigger and better Polis, but no. She couldn't even manage that without fucking it up.
Two loud knocks echoes through the bottom floor of the house.
"This had better be one of Mom's Amazon deliveries," Clarke muttered, having the sense to leave the vodka bottle on the table and shuffled to the front door.
When she opened it, a dry chuckle left her mouth. "Wow. Here to kick me while I'm down?"
Lexa actually looked apologetic, but Clarke didn't believe her for a second. Anyone who clearly harboured that amount of hate for the Griffin name, yet could handle working so closely with one for two weeks had to have some serious issues.
"May I come in?" Lexa asked quietly.
"Why don't you give me the salt already?" Clarke asked dryly.
The brunette looked at her in confusion.
"So that I can rub it into the open wound." Clarke made the motion of hitting cymbals on a drum set. "I know, I'm hilarious." She leaned against the doorframe. "Just get whatever words you want out. Pretty sure nothing else will surprise me now."
"Clarke, I…" Lexa faltered and the blonde noticed that, for the first time, she was nervous.
Why the hell would Lexa be nervous after the brutal tongue lashing she'd dealt? "Just spit it out already. Jesus. I'm not getting any younger."
"I wanted to…a-apologise," Lexa murmured.
Clarke blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Yes, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way that I acted earlier. I…I thought that I knew what had happened, but I guess…"
"You guessed wrong, Lexa," Clarke snapped. "Apology not accepted."
She slammed the door in her co-worker's face (or was it ex-co-worker?) and trudged back to the living room. She'd just picked up the bottle of vodka before two loud knocks on the front door echoed throughout the house again.
Clarke groaned out loud. Why couldn't Lexa take a hint? At least she'd gotten what she wanted. There was no way Clarke was going back to work for Marcus. The only thing she really wanted to do was get drunk and cry.
She really wanted to cry.
Two more knocks.
"Fuck off, Lexa!" she yelled.
"Clarke, I'm not leaving until we've spoken."
The blonde rolled her eyes and took a long drink from the bottle. She knew that Lexa was stubborn, but the Commander was about to find out just how stubborn Clarke Griffin could be. She would be every bit the spoiled princess that Lexa was so sure she was.
An hour later, Clarke was drunk and Lexa was still knocking on the door every five minutes. Clarke stumbled towards the large oak door and yanked it open.
"Take a fucking hint," she slurred, gesturing vaguely to the gates a few yards down the driveway. "I don't want to talk to you."
Lexa blinked as she took in Clarke's appearance. She knew she looked terrible, but that was because she felt terrible. And drunk. She was drunk.
Drunk Clarke gave even less fucks than stubborn teenage Clarke.
"Clarke, I understand your trepidation, but I really would like us to talk about what happened," Lexa said in that measured tone that drove Clarke mad because it sounded like she was just so unaffected by everything.
"What happened was that you told me family stole money from your home. I didn't know so it was a bit of a shock, but hey. I'll survive." Clarke fired an imaginary gun at Lexa. "I'm a survivor. Oh, wait. No, I'm a princess, right? I can just pay someone to feel embarrassed for me, right? Someone else can feel the humiliation, betrayal and hurt. Does that sound about right? Since, obviously, I have no accountability."
Lexa sighed. "For an intoxicated person, you have a remarkable grasp of the English language."
Clarke glared at her. "Fuck you, Lexa. You got your wish. You'll never have to see me again. I won't go back to working for that two-faced liar. Since my family has wronged you so badly, maybe I'll convince my mom to move somewhere else. Wouldn't want the relocation of Polis to be tainted by the wicked Griffin family, would we?"
"Clarke, that's not what I want."
The blonde barked out a laugh. "Of course. Silly me. You've just hated me all your life, dreaded working with me because you actually do want me around." She drained the last of the vodka. "I may be drunk, but I'm not stupid. You've never liked me and now you don't have to even see me ever again. Win-win for you."
Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know that I fucked up, okay? I really want to apologise properly, perhaps when you're less…"
"Less what? Drunk? I didn't realise you'd become my keeper. You did apologise and I don't accept it. Now do both of us a favour and get off my father's property." Clarke scoffed. "Or don't, since it could actually not even belong to my father."
"Clarke," Lexa whispered, stepping into the doorway. "I didn't want you to question-"
"Then why the fuck did you say anything in the first place?" Clarke yelled, pushing Lexa's shoulder roughly.
"I thought you knew," she argued.
"You think so little of me that I would knowingly work in social welfare, spearhead a project featuring the very centre that my father's company stole from? Wow. Let's just go back to actively avoiding each other, Lexa. It was less painful that way."
Clarke went to close the door, but Lexa's arm shot out to stop it.
"Go away."
"No."
"You have no right to be here!"
"You're right. I don't. But I will not leave here without sorting this out," Lexa stated firmly.
Clarke's head swam. "Why? There's nothing to sort out! You don't even like me, Lexa! Why should it matter if you destroyed my family's legacy? Why should it matter to you that I don't have a job and now I have to rely on my parents' money to help me look after my son? Why should anything that I do or say matter to you? Huh?"
Clarke's seething anger was keeping her surprisingly sharp considering that she'd finished an entire bottle of vodka.
"You said that I am special, that I make Polis special," Lexa began after swallowing hard. Her hand still held the door open. "Clarke, you make Polis special too. You're the reason that they have something new to look forward to. The kids couldn't shut up about you on Saturday. Especially Artigas. He told me about everything that you envisioned for the new centre and Clarke, that's because you are special. No one else has stepped up to take on this project, even though it's been needed for years. I mean, I wanted to. I wanted to be the one, but I…couldn't. I…" Lexa faltered and looked down.
Clarke felt oddly sympathetic. She knew very little about Lexa – evidently – but what she did know was that the brunette never divulged anything that made her seem weak. She looked almost vulnerable.
Close the door, Clarke. She's just playing you.
Part of her believed that. Lexa had harboured such resentment for what appeared to be a very long time so why would she trade that for an apology?
"I grew up in Polis. It was my home from when I was twelve. I even tried sleeping there, but Indra warned me that I would just make things worse if I didn't stick to the rules of the group home."
Clarke blinked. Lexa was opening up…
To her.
What?
"I promised that I would be better for everyone there, that I would fight for them. I worked hard and kept out of trouble as much as I could. I gained the respect and trust of the adults in my community so when I started working at social welfare, they knew they had someone that was truly looking out for them. I know that I can be harsh and dogmatic, but it's how I survived."
Tell me about it.
"Maybe life should be about more than surviving," Clarke muttered, looking down at the bottle in her hand. "Don't we deserve better than that?"
There was a brief pause before Lexa responded.
"Maybe we do."
Clarke looked up and her breath caught in her throat. Lexa was staring at her, a curious sparkle in eyes she hadn't even realised shone such a deep green.
Breathe.
"Clarke…"
Lexa stepped closer to her and Clarke felt the empty bottle slip from her fingers. It dropped onto the carpet safely, but her heart was racing at the way Lexa was looking at her.
"Clarke, I am so sorry."
The blonde took a step back when Lexa took another towards her.
"Lexa, don't," she whispered.
"I am sorry, and you need to hear it. I'm sorry for judging you before I even knew you. I was so blinded by my hatred and mistrust that I didn't even give you a chance. I assumed things and that was a grave mistake on my part. As a result of my error in judgement, you have been irrevocably hurt and betrayed, and that is something that I can only apologise for as many times as you'll let me."
Clarke just shook her head as tears gathered in her eyes and blurred her vision. Lexa wasn't allowed to sound so heartfelt and genuine. Clarke couldn't in good conscience hate her if she was that genuine. She was reminded of how Lexa spoke during their presentation at Polis; her speech at that moment had that same passion and weight, albeit in a softer tone.
"I didn't know, Lexa," Clarke sobbed. "I didn't know."
"I know that. I know that now. And there are a thousand ways that I could have told you the truth, but I chose the one way that would hurt you most because I refused to believe that you were innocent. I-" she choked off and looked down. Clarke could see her struggling.
"This is a mess," she eventually sighed, feeling incredibly drained. The alcohol was giving her a headache, or maybe it was the tension.
"Lexa, I think that maybe you should go," Clarke whispered.
Lexa looked up at her again, and Clarke was truly surprised to see tears hovering on the edges of her lashes. She had never, in over ten years, seen Lexa Woods even close to crying.
"Come back tomorrow morning," Clarke said before she talked herself out of what was likely a very bad idea. "We'll talk then."
Lexa nodded. "Thank you, Clarke."
They looked at each other for a few moments before Lexa seemed to snap out of it and cleared her throat.
"Tomorrow," she confirmed, walking backwards to the door.
"Tomorrow," Clarke repeated with a slight nod.
She sure as hell needed the hours to prepare herself.
Lexa stood outside the oak door that she'd almost memorised the previous day with two cups of coffee in her hands. Why she'd thought that a cup of coffee from a corner café would work as some kind of peace offering when Clarke most likely had much better coffee in her house, Lexa didn't know.
She didn't know a lot, apparently.
She bit her lip as she remembered how broken Clarke had looked the previous day. She was destroyed. Lexa had done that. In that moment, she'd realised that she had no idea who Clarke Griffin was. She'd built up an idea of her in her mind from the little that she'd seen in school and at work. Granted, the embezzlement had all but painted a pair of devil horns onto the Clarke Griffin in her head, but Lexa really had assumed the worst.
Her own anger and jealousy had blinded her to the person that Clarke really was. She's spent the night thinking long and hard about all of their interactions from as far back as she could remember. Only once had Clarke ever actively been rude to her and that was when she'd (rightly) accused Lexa of having her car vandalised. While Lexa hadn't done the damage herself, a few less acquaintances from the centre were more than happy to mess up a rich girl's car.
Other than that, it had been Lexa that had initiated the rude remarks, the silent competitions, the judging.
In short, she'd fucked up.
Anya had explained that Clarke hadn't had anything to do with the fundraiser, that she and a friend had left on an impromptu trip to Canada. She also came clean that Jaha had been the one to forcefully request her transfer, not the Griffins.
Four years previously, Lexa hadn't given Anya the chance to explain, simply turning her confusion about everything into hatred for the Griffins and everything they stood for.
Suddenly, the door in front of her opened. Lexa's eyes widened.
"Raven Reyes?"
"Lexa Woods." Raven's tone was anything but welcoming. "What are you doing here?"
"I, um, Clarke invited me to come over this morning to…talk."
"To talk?" Raven folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door frame. Lexa briefly noticed how her left leg was secured in a brace.
"Yes."
"Clarke asked you to come over at seven-thirty to talk?"
Lexa felt her neck flush. She didn't like getting the third degree from someone she'd had even less dealing with in high school. "She didn't specify a time, but this is the normal time that we start work."
"Ah, work," Raven stated, arching an eyebrow. "You two have been working together recently, right?"
Is Raven…? Is she jealous?
"Yes, we have. We're working on relocating the Polis centre."
Raven just nodded and Lexa shifted her weight from one foot to the other, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated by the woman standing in front of her.
"Raven," a voice called from inside.
Clarke stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded across her chest.
"Hey." Raven's voice took on a very different tone. It made Lexa arch an eyebrow.
"You're gonna be late for work." Clarke chastised.
Raven walked over and dropped a light kiss on Clarke's cheek. It seemed a natural movement and Lexa couldn't explain how her stomach pulled lightly at the gesture.
"What are they gonna do? I'm the boss." Raven grinned.
Clarke rolled her eyes and angled her head down the hall.
"Fine. Jeez."
Once Raven had disappeared, Lexa felt that it was safe to step inside the house.
"Good morning," she greeted quietly.
"Morning," Clarke replied shortly. "Um, would you be okay waiting in the back reception room? It's just through the living room."
Lexa looked to where Clarke was pointing. "Yeah, sure." She held out the coffee. "I, uh, realise that you probably have coffee here, but…"
Clarke just looked at her for a moment and the way her blue eyes seemed to dig deeper and deeper into her chest, reminded Lexa of a very scary thought that she'd had the previous day while they were arguing.
For a very brief, very fleeting moment, she'd wanted to kiss Clarke Griffin.
That on its own brought a huge set of problems that Lexa wasn't remotely ready to deal with.
"Thanks," Clarke said, taking the coffee from her. "Sorry about Raven, by the way. She's just overprotective."
"She loves you," Lexa replied simply.
"Well, yeah. She can be a bit much, though. So, um…yeah." Clarke took a sip of coffee and hummed appreciatively. "Uh, just head through there. I shouldn't be too long."
Lexa nodded and followed Clarke's directions. The rooms were beautifully decorated. The first thing that Lexa noticed as she walked through the living room was the beautiful portrait above the fireplace of the three Griffins. They looked so happy and it made the guilt churn in Lexa's gut even more that she had tarnished the memory that Clarke had of her father.
Sighing, she sipped her own coffee and headed through to the next room. It looked a lot more lived in and comfortable than the living room. Lexa put her bag down and got comfortable on one of the sofas. She went through a few emails while she waited for Clarke.
"Hi."
She looked up and froze.
"Um, hi."
A little boy of around three or four was grinning at her.
"I'm Aden." He held out his hand, which Lexa felt compelled to shake.
"I'm Lexa."
"I'm four."
"I'm…not four," Lexa replied with a chuckle.
Aden giggled and Lexa saw that he was missing a front tooth. She immediately knew that he had to be Clarke's son. If it wasn't the blue eyes, wavy blonde hair or rosy cheeks, it was that giggle.
"What you got der?" Aden asked and Lexa had never thought that a mispronunciation of the 'th' sound could be more adorable.
"Oh, I just got some coffee on my way here."
"Can I have some?"
Uh oh.
"I think you'll have to ask your mom about that one," Lexa said, biting her lip.
"And Mom says absolutely not," Clarke announced, walking into the room. "Have you brushed your teeth, mister?"
Aden smiled wide, showing his teeth. "All clean, Momma."
"Good boy." Clarke leaned down to kiss his head. "Would you mind sitting in your art corner for a bit? I need to talk to Lexa about a few things."
"Okay. Bye, Lexa!" Aden waved and Lexa just smiled dopily and waved back.
Once Aden had disappeared into a colourful area in the corner of the room, Lexa dropped her hand and flushed.
"I'm sorry if he bombarded you with questions," Clarke said, surprising Lexa by sitting down on the other end of the same sofa. "He's at that age where his curiosity is virtually insatiable."
"He's amazing, Clarke. And he looks exactly like you."
Clarke smiled softly as she looked over to where he was busying himself. "Yeah, he does."
"Um, I did want to apologise if I came over too early," Lexa began.
"No, I expected you at this time," Clarke replied. "You're a creature of habit, Lexa. It's not difficult to figure out that you like routine."
"Uh, yeah. I do."
Clarke sighed and they just looked at each other for a long while. Lexa wasn't sure what she was meant to do, even though she'd had a clear game plan in her mind on the drive over to Clarke's house.
"I'm going to talk to Jaha," Clarke eventually said, keeping her tone low enough for Lexa to hear, but not drawing Aden's attention.
Lexa raised an eyebrow. "Is that wise?"
"As much as you may not believe it, I actually do possess a moral compass, Lexa, and what he did was wrong. He and Marcus won't get away with what they did."
"That's not what I-" Lexa tried, but Clarke cut her off quickly.
"Let's not pretend that you've done a one-eighty in the last twenty-four hours, shall we? Yes, you messed up. Badly. And now you feel guilty so you're trying to ease your conscience by making things okay between us. Or whatever."
"Partly true," Lexa countered. "Yes, I do feel guilty about how I said what I said. But I don't feel guilty for saying it, Clarke. I thought you knew. Could I have delivered the news better? Absolutely. There is no question about that. And for that, I am truly sorry." Lexa paused and let her sincere statement sink in by holding Clarke's gaze. "I wouldn't call this a one-eighty. You've only seen a very small part of my personality and even though I rarely show that I care, it doesn't mean that I don't, or that it's out of character for me."
Clarke lifted an eyebrow. "Okay. I'm not rejecting your apology this time, but I'm not sure that I can accept it just yet."
"Fair enough."
A short silence settled between them, their eyes locked for the duration.
"I have all of my sister's research notes," Lexa offered after a while. "I brought them in case you want to read through them."
She could see Clarke clenching her jaw. She let her formulate whatever it was that was obviously churning in her mind.
"Why do you hate me so much, Lexa?" she eventually all but whispered.
Whoa. She hadn't been expecting that. But she did have an answer.
"Jealousy," she said simply. "You had everything you could want, or what I thought you would want. You lived in a big house, had two parents who loved you and didn't have to worry about getting home safely."
Clarke furrowed her brow and looked down at her hands. "That wasn't fair of you to put a label like that on me. You didn't know me."
"I know. And it was wrong of me. I should have given you the benefit of showing me who you were without my stupid preconceived ideas."
"You should have. But, in all honesty, I didn't think very highly of you either, Lexa."
"Well, I'm not exactly the most approachable of people."
Clarke just shook her head. "This isn't about you being closed off. I hated you because of what you were able to do, regardless of your background. You were first for everything. It was like there was nothing you couldn't do, and do it well." She let out a brief laugh. "It was intimidating. You were intimidating. And my default setting is that I get defensive when people attack me."
"Can't blame you for that."
"You did," Clarke countered.
Lexa nodded. "I did. That was my own short-sightedness. I have no idea who you are, Clarke. I thought I did, but I really don't. And I'm sorry about that."
"Well, you do know one thing about me."
"What's that?"
"You know how I like my coffee."
Lexa let a small smile creep onto her face. "You always let me drive."
Clarke lifted a shoulder. "You like control. It's not that big a deal for someone else to drive me somewhere if we're both going to the same place."
"It kinda is for me, though," Lexa murmured, feeling her muscles contract as her defensive default setting kicked in. She was trying to fight her body's own defences, and it wasn't easy.
Clarke just nodded.
"And you let me take point on the presentation at Polis," Lexa added.
"Like I was going to stop you. You were on a roll! Besides, you were the best public speaker at school. I'm good, but not as good as you."
"I envy your self-assurance," Lexa blurted out.
"Well, I must be doing a good job of acting assured, because I sure as hell don't feel it."
"Why not?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Clarke bit her lip and looked at Lexa before answering. The brunette could tell she was weighing up the pros and cons of the conversation they were probably veering towards.
"I'm a young mother, Lexa," she eventually said. "I second guess myself every day if I'm doing the right thing. I wonder if me working is going to affect my relationship with Aden. I wonder if relocating Polis is going to help me deal with everything or if it's just a hopeless cause. And now… now I wonder how much of my life has been a lie. I wonder if my parents knew about the embezzlement. I wonder if they helped hide it."
Lexa's chest lurched when she saw two tears run down Clarke's face. She made quick work to brush them away, her glance flittering over to where her son was still playing.
"Lexa, I'm really tired of hating you, but I don't know if I could ever forgive you for telling me what you did. I don't know if I can stop hating you for ruining my father's memory."
And there it is.
"When I walked in and saw that picture of you above the fireplace, that was the first thought that crossed my mind," Lexa replied, wringing her hands. "I knew that you wouldn't be able to forgive me for that and, Clarke, that's okay. I don't expect your forgiveness. I would like for you to accept my apology because I can't change what I've already said and done in the past, but I can control what I do and say in the future." She took a deep breath. "And Clarke, I really would like to get to know you. The real you. The Clarke Griffin that I carelessly brushed aside in lieu of my own twisted version. I know our history is rocky, at best, but if we can somehow find a way to move past that or forget it and get this project done, then I think we'll be able to do a lot more than possibly rebuild a working relationship."
Lexa glanced up nervously, wanting to see Clarke's reaction, but also dreading it.
Once again, the pair found themselves staring at one another for an extended period.
"I can't go back to working for Marcus Kane," Clarke said firmly.
"Okay. We could set up an office at my place?" Lexa offered.
"Could we do it here, if it's not too out of the way for you? That way, I can still be with Aden when Raven and my mom are at work."
Lexa nodded. "Yeah, that's totally fine with me."
"Okay." Clarke took a deep breath. "Okay."
"Okay?" Lexa hedged cautiously.
Clarke stuck out a hand. "I'm Clarke Griffin. I'm twenty-four and I have a crazy, energetic, wonderful son. He's almost four, but he tells everyone that he is already four. I recently found out that my family has a bit of a sordid secret and I'm still dealing with that. I want to do something that matters with my life. I want to make a difference. I'm hoping that the Polis project will help in starting that dream for me."
Lexa took the outstretched hand and smiled. "Hi. I'm Lexa Woods. Also twenty-four. I'm a bit of a closed off control freak. I didn't have a good childhood, but I haven't let that hinder my dreams of making a difference. Like you, I would like nothing more than to see the Polis project become something so much more than what I could have every dreamed of. Based on what I have seen of your work, Miss Griffin, I think that you are absolutely on the right track to achieving that dream. I would really like to be a part of that process."
They kept a grip on each others' hands and kept eye contact.
"I think we could find a way to work together, Miss Woods," Clarke stated, a small smile creeping onto her face.
"That's really good to hear, Miss Griffin. But please, call me Lexa. I'd like for you to learn more about me, and it would be weird if you called me Miss Woods all the time."
Clarke half-heartedly rolled her eyes. "Very well, Lexa. And please call me Clarke. If I'm gonna be getting to know you better, you probably should know my coffee order."
Lexa smiled wider, squeezing Clarke's hand subtly. "I think this sounds like the beginning of a great working relationship, Clarke."
"Indeed it does, Lexa."
A/N: I'm toying with the idea of another chapter… I have plenty that I could flesh out, so I'm thinking that I will…
Hope you enjoyed it :)
-H