A/N: Woo! Rather quick update, wasn't it?

Chapter 2 – Pizza and a Potion

Lexa stepped over the coffee stain that remained on the floor. She was coming home from her day of classes at the university and her mind was quite preoccupied. In fact, it had been all morning, ever since a certain blonde from upstairs had landed quite literally on her doorstep.

Lexa was always aware of her neighbor, frequently hearing the front door of their building opening at odd hours of the night. Rather than feel annoyed, she almost always felt quite sorry for the mess of a sleep cycle her neighbor must have.

Several times in the past year, they'd passed while Lexa was locking her front door, or while the two of them had simultaneously made it to the front door of the building. Lexa had always attempted to smile back at her neighbor. The only problem was that whenever their eyes met, it always seemed easier to look away. She wasn't even really that shy, she just wasn't particularly good at talking to new people.

New, admittedly attractive, people.

She was considered a quiet girl, but in reality she talked at length to those she was comfortable with. Clarke just wasn't one on those people.

Not yet, anyway. That remained to be seen after their pizza dinner plans.

Lexa stopped herself as she hung her coat on its hook. She'd willfully allowed Clarke to invite herself in and cook her dinner. Did she even have all the ingredients in her fridge? Was Clarke bringing them? Would it be as pleasant a time as this morning? Would it be terribly awkward?

As much as she was nervously anticipating Clarke's arrival, she couldn't help but feel a little excited as well. Almost a year of barely exchanging words, and now a whole meal spent together? It surely was something to look forward to. And besides, she could use more friends.

Of course, she was by no means lonely. Lexa had always had Anya in her life to spend time with. As far as being supportive in every aspect of her sister's life, Lexa couldn't be more grateful for someone like her. The only thing was that sometimes, she could be a little too supportive. She always pushed Lexa to do her best, and it helped Lexa out greatly. She was always the type of sister to give lots of advice. Mom-like advice. Some might even call her advice, well, nagging.

Lexa didn't usually mind all that much, but was certainly glad to have her apartment back to herself after Anya's stay. Her alone time would never be taken for granted again, and she could always text or call Anya if she was ever lonely again.

Though she realized that she wouldn't be getting her alone time just quite yet, Lexa hardly doubted she would regret spending that time with Clarke.

Three sharp knocks sounded from the door to alert Lexa of her neighbor's arrival. She got up to answer the door and smoothed down the shirt she'd put on after changing, accompanied by black leggings. Lexa wasn't exactly positive how one would dress for a two-person pizza-making party, but she assumed it was something along the lines of what she'd chosen.

When she swung open the door, she took a deep breath and smiled back at pink-tinged cheeks and a wide grin. Clarke greeted her and lifted her bag of supplies. "I hope I'm not late. Against my better judgement, I kind of rushed down those stairs again."

"You're perfectly on time," Lexa answered and led her to the kitchen for the second time that day.

Clarke followed her and sat at one of the chairs on the island, the same spot she'd taken earlier, and set her bag on the island. Lexa noticed that she too had changed, from dress pants and Lexa's shirt to near-identical leggings and a long-sleeved shirt of her own. Lexa mentally congratulated herself for dressing correctly for the occasion.

Clarke reached in her bag and pulled out a fresh bottle of wine, shaking it a little for emphasis. "Do you have glasses?"

Lexa's lips formed into a smile in response and she pulled two wine glasses from a cabinet and draped them lazily upside down between long fingers, handing them out for Clarke to choose from. "Take your pick."

"Thanks," Clarke said before choosing the left one. "I hope you like red."

Lexa nodded, leaning against the island counter, and allowed Clarke to pour her some. "How did your meeting go?

Clarke took a sip of wine and smiled. "The art director, Mr. Wells, asked to look at my portfolio, and you'll never guess what happened."

Lexa only raised an eyebrow, so Clarke continued. "Among several of the pieces of art he chose, he happened to fall upon one with a coffee stain that I didn't catch before handing the portfolio to him."

"He wasn't upset or anything?" Lexa hoped. She'd been so preoccupied with trying to help clean up the wound on Clarke's arm and the stain on her clothes and had completely forgotten that the coffee might stain the art. Perhaps Mr. Wells had seen it and thought Clarke had been unprofessional. She truly hoped that was not the case. "Right?"

Clarke took another sip of her wine, the contents of her glass draining quickly. "He thought it was part of the art, and loved it. He wants it to be my main piece." She paused and shook her head, looking back at Lexa with awe still on present in her expression. "I didn't have the heart to tell him I just fell on my ass. Accidents happen."

Lexa smiled at her neighbor. A laugh was threatening to escape her lips, and Clarke noticed. "What?"

"I'm so sorry. I'm imagining it all again," Lexa shrugged and quickly looked into her wine glass, amused expression hopefully hidden. A quick glance at Clarke from the corner of her eyes told her she was a receiving a glare, but a playful glare nonetheless.

"Jeez, Lexa, we've only properly known each other for exactly one day and I can already tell that I'll never live that incident down for the entirety of our friendship."

"No, probably not," Lexa murmured and hid her smile behind the glass again. The level of liquid in it was waning increasingly as well. "How is your arm, by the way?"

"Nice change of subject," Clarke rolled her eyes. "I called my mom about it, but she's swamped at the hospital. She can get me in first thing tomorrow morning, though."

"Seriously? Because it looks, well, serious," Lexa gracefully added. "Did you at least change the dressing?"

"Yeah, after my meeting," Clarke nodded. When Lexa squinted doubtfully at her, she continued, "My mom taught me a thing or too, it's just an odd sort of angle to patch up by yourself, you know? Perhaps it's not the best job…"

Lexa had already reached for her arm again, not fully realizing that she kept invading her neighbor's personal space until her fingers had landed at the base of Clarke's sleeve. But then, Clarke was turning her arm over and allowing her to help. Her fingertips skirted the edge of the half-heartedly placed bandage and she looked into Clarke's eyes. "Would you mind?"

"I should be asking you that," Clarke laughed rather breathily, and Lexa realized that she truly was invading her personal space, inadvertently moving close enough so that her hips were just touching her neighbor's knees. She swallowed and blamed her lack of bodily control on the wine. Clarke's voice brought her focus back. "But please, go ahead."

She retreated for some much needed space and headed to her bandage supply above the fridge again, this time getting a washcloth as well. Lexa sat back in her own seat. Unfortunately for her, Clarke tried to be helpful and lean closer to give her an easier time. A quick glance told her that her neighbor's wine glass was already empty, so perhaps she hadn't yet noticed the weird proximity either. Or at least, wasn't affected by it.

At least able to breathe properly, she took the warm washcloth and gently cleaned the cut. As gross as it should've been, blood didn't really affect Lexa. As a kid, she'd played really rough and probably saw more blood on her own body than most people did before they were ten. She really didn't mind. Clarke flinched a little as one of her fingernails accidentally grazed her skin on the last stroke of the cloth, and Lexa looked up, concerned. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Clarke claimed, but Lexa saw a little more color in her cheeks. "It's all good. I'm probably just a little tender."

Lexa distractedly agreed. "Let's hope it's only a bruise, and not a break."

Clarke's only acknowledgment was the nodding of her head.

She abandoned the washcloth and finished applying the bandage with some antibiotic cream. Lexa smoothed the edges down as she had this morning, trying to be tender this time, but Clarke flinched still.

"Seriously, please let me know if I'm hurting you," Lexa frowned. She moved a few loose strands of her hair out of her own face to find Clarke's cheeks still pink.

"No really, it's fine," she insisted.

Lexa looked down at the arm she was still holding, finding it lined with goosebumps.

Goosebumps. Heh.

"There's no shame in being ticklish, Clarke," Lexa teased.

Clarke opened her mouth in indignation, coloration reaching her ears, horrified expression stuck in her face. "What?"

Lexa was blaming a lot of their behavior on alcohol tonight. She blamed her ability to talk to the neighbor she knew next-to-nothing about so freely on the wine. It was the wine she could also blame on the way she stroked the edge of Clarke's bandage once more while looking her dead in the eye, teasing grin never disappearing. Clarke flinched so hard that she took her arm back completely this time.

"Shut up," Clarke said, but her frown was soon, begrudgingly, replaced with an embarrassed grin to match almost that of Lexa's. "I blame it on the wine; it makes me easily ticklish." Lexa wasn't the only one making excuses tonight, it seemed.

"Hey, I don't usually stroke strangers' arms just to see them squirm either, so we can blame that on the alcohol, too. I've been told it makes me touchy," Lexa admitted with her hands up in defense.

"I'm, probably regrettably, filling up both our glasses again," Clarke announced as she did just that, "…but I trust we can handle ourselves with both our faults now out in the open."

"A harrowing idea." Oh, but it was so definitely the opposite of that. "So you think we'll be capable of making good pizza while wink-drunk?"

"Oh," Clarke practically sang, "That's only the best time to make pizza - while wine-drunk. That's when my creativity really comes out."

"If you say so."

Clarke reached into the bag she'd brought again. With another long sip from her glass, she said, "Alright, so I already have the dough prepared, but I didn't know your preferred topping choices, so I brought a bunch."

It was after that they decided to each make personal pan pizzas, so Lexa turned on her oven and retrieved aprons for the two of them. Clarke rolled out an appropriate amount of dough each pizza, and Lexa stood by the other girl's side, staring blankly at the ingredients laid out before them.

"Key to a perfect pizza is getting your sauce to cheese proportion right," Clarke declared and spread out a perfectly even layer of sauce on her pizza, handing the spoon to Lexa to do the same.

"You cook pizza often, do you?"

"Only on special occasions," she said, accompanying the statement with a wink.

Lexa drank some more wine and took the spoon determinedly. She spread a slightly less even, patchy amount of sauce on her pizza. She looked doubtfully at her cooking partner but Clarke nodded in approval. "You know, I changed my mind. There's no right or wrong way to decorate a pizza," she insisted.

Grated cheese was already put out in a bowl, ready and prepared to be sprinkled over the sauce. Lexa was busy adding a few chopped veggies to her pizza while Clarke was adding her own meat toppings. Releasing the last few ingredients on top of the cheese layer, Lexa found her hand stilled by Clarke's, trying to get her attention.

"Yes?" Lexa looked over into a face that was startlingly closer than she'd expected. She took into account that Clarke was at least a glass of wine ahead of her.

"Lex," Clarke blinked. "I'm going to tell you the secret to how to perfect your crust."

"Is it to lather it with olive oil and sprinkle garlic on it? Because I was goi-"

"No," she whispered. Lexa's hand was released. Clarke continued whispering, a little conspiratorially. "You see this leftover cheese? The best place to put it," she paused and demonstrated the action with her hands, "-is right in the crust here."

Clumsy hands were crowding some of the remaining cheese into the edge of the pizza, and then Clarke's fingers delicately rolled the ends of the dough over the cheese so that a stuffed crust masterpiece was born.

Lexa leaned over Clarke's pizza, albeit wobbly, to look and whisper, "Genius."

Clarke's hand flew to her back to steady her as she leaned back, and Lexa smiled in thanks. The hand released her, but they were both standing practically hip-to-hip. Clarke's eyes searched her face for something (perhaps making sure she wasn't going to pass out), the spell only broken by the sound of the oven signaling that it had reached the appropriate temperature. Lexa turned away first to retrieve a board for them to place their pizzas on.

Their pizzas were soon perfected by sharing styles of crust preparation. Pizzas in the oven and aprons off, they moved to sit down on Lexa's couch.

"Should we watch something while we wait?"

"Yeah, sure," Clarke agreed. "What's on Netflix?"

Lexa hooked her laptop up to her television screen for better viewing. They searched through a list of suggested shows. "How about Practical Magic?"

Clarke gave her a look that Lexa couldn't quite decipher. She asked, "Any reason in particular?"

"I love that movie. The bond between the sisters and their magical powers – it's my favorite. But perhaps more suited to the Halloween season," Lexa added as an afterthought. "Is it weird I'm feeling a TV show right now more than a movie?"

"Not at all, because I kind of am too," her neighbor replied, and pointed at the screen. "Look there's a show that's got good reviews."

"Oh yeah, I've heard about it from a few of my friends. What's Black Mirror about again?"

"Not really sure. I just know it's supposed to be a sci-fi show. I don't think it goes in any particular order."

"Fantastic," Lexa agreed. "I'm totally into that genre."

Clarke gave her a brief smile and reached over to press play. They sat on the couch in awe of the show, watching as the characters on the TV show tried to deal with a royal family member being kidnapped.

They nearly ignored the beeping of the timer when it went off, as they were already so engrossed in the show. However, Lexa responsibly removed herself from the couch and pulled out Clarke's pizza. It was placed on the cooling rack and Lexa's own pizza went back into the oven.

She joined Clarke back on the couch and saw that the girl had paused the show for her. Lexa sat down next to her on the couch and pulled out the forgotten wine bottle from behind her back. Her neighbor's eyes lit up and she immediately took it and poured them each some, finishing off the bottle with very full glasses.

They became absorbed in the show again, making pleasant conversation here and there about how they thought the show would end, but the timer soon went off, and so Lexa got up again. When she returned, she was holding plates with a slice for each of them. Once slice was much hotter than the other, so she settled her plate on her lap instead of immediately digging in.

"These look absolutely delicious," she remarked anyway as her mouth began to water. She glanced at Clarke and found her looking at Lexa, waiting. "What is it, Clarke?"

The half-emptied glass was held up between them, bright eyes gazing into her questioning ones. "A toast, to our new friendship. And to hereby making, probably, the best pizza ever."

"To friendship and great pizza," Lexa agreed, and they clanked glasses. Their fingertips grazed each other when the glass touched, a quick warm sensation contrasting with the cold temperature of their drinks. They held each other's gazes, eyes crinkling and lips stretching as they both downed the rest of the wine. Grimaces that can only come from too much alcohol at once and laughs that can only come from experiencing the same terrible, temporary feeling were shared between them.

They remained there on the couch for several hours, ever enthralled in the show they'd decided on. Still, comments were frequently exchanged between the two of them, creating an easy atmosphere that almost made Lexa feel as comfortable as if she were really watching with Anya. But in contrast to her sister's usually negative remarks about how certain stunts in television shows were "so fake," Clarke ignored the falsity of such stunts and focused instead on how well the show was produced. She was positive and brought a lighter atmosphere to the apartment, and Lexa found herself really enjoying Clarke's presence.

After they'd solidly dug into half of their own pizzas, Clarke spoke up. "Hey Lexa."

"Yeah?" she asked as her elbow (which had unknowingly been resting on Clarke's for quite some time now) was nudged. She could blame it on the fact that her couch sagged a bit in the middle, forcing any two on the couch to inevitably slide closer to one another. She could also blame the reason that she hadn't really tried all that hard to move away on the fact that they'd literally finished an entire bottle of wine. She could.

Lexa chose not to focus on it and, rather, focus on what the other girl was saying. "Sorry?"

"Can I have a piece of your pizza, I said," Clarke whispered with exaggeration. Well, in her state, Lexa couldn't really tell if she was actually slurring her words. "I'll trade you, piece for piece."

When Lexa said she was trying to focus, she really meant something along the lines of trying her hardest not to lean into Clarke, as she had moved to speak closer to Lexa's ear. It hadn't been just their elbows touching, she'd realized; their shoulders had been holding each other up for, well, she didn't know how long. But Clarke had just turned her head, nose tickling a few strands of her hair, and Lexa absolutely refused to turn towards her. She needed air again.

"Absolutely," Lexa tried, hoping to hell her voice came out normally. She reached for her pile of pizza and swapped one for Clarke's, handing her the slice.

"Cheers," Clarke said again, eyes glazed just a bit. They were still somehow bright, but Lexa really didn't understand how. The only light in her apartment came from the screen flickering before them. She dragged her own eyes away and instead turned back to her slice. They both sunk their teeth into each other's pizza, delighting in the others' topping choices. "Nicely done, Lexa," Clarke tried to say between bites.

"You too," Lexa mumbled with a full mouth.

"You know what I've just realized?" Clarke asked once she swallowed.

"Hm?"

She licked her fingers free of pizza sauce. "One of the whole points of me coming down here tonight was to get you back for letting me borrow the shirt. A shirt that, let's face it, probably brought me all of the best luck and was the real reason Mr. Wells didn't notice the coffee stain."

"Oh, I'm sure."

"It's like it was charmed or something," Clarke sighed, squinting at nothing in particular.

"What's your point?" Lexa asked, turning towards Clarke this time.

Much to her chagrin, the sheer hope that Clarke wouldn't erase the respectable, appropriate distance between them only seemed to make it happen faster. Lexa swore the other girl's eyes flickered to her lips but she really couldn't be sure.

She was probably imagining it.

Everything was hazy.

"My point? Oh, my point. My point is that I just realized I forgot to even bring the shirt," she spoke quietly and cleared her throat, adding, "I washed it and everything."

Lexa forgot how to work her voice all of a sudden, it seemed. She settled for shrugging and internally cringed when her shoulder brushed Clarke's. She attempted to clear her own throat. "It's okay."

"I guess it just means I'll have to make time to get it to you," her neighbor sighed, but she didn't look at all upset.

"It's okay, really," Lexa insisted, clueless as to what Clarke was getting at. "If it's too much trouble, you can always leave it hanging on my door. Seeing as we're the only tenants in the building, I'm really not worried about it being stolen."

Clarke frowned. "What if I want to hand it to you in person?"

"Well-"

"We're proper friends now, you and I," she pouted further. "We drank an entire bottle of wine, Lex. Can't go back on that." This time, words were most definitely slurred.

"Proper friends?" she repeated.

"Why do you look so surprised?" Clarke asked, a flicker of hurt in her expression.

Lexa shook her head and backtracked. A Clarke with hurt feelings was decidedly the worst. "I just don't usually make friends so easily, I suppose. Anya says I give off a scary vibe sometimes."

"Anya?" Clarke repeated, eyes out of focus.

"Yeah, I mean I would really only accept that sort of comment from someone I'm close with. And I suppose it might be true."

Clarke sat back on the couch and positioned herself so that her shin was parallel to Lexa's thigh, the sagging of the couch making it hard for their weights not to shift towards each other. Despite that contact, Lexa found it at least easier to breathe at this distance.

Currently, the girl in question was frowning at her, head tilted, considering Lexa's features. With a soft voice, she told her, "I don't think you look scary at all."

"No?"

"I don't know what this 'Anya' person in talking about," Clarke shook her head. "I'd want to be friends with you – I do." Proud of her assessment, she nodded once and held her hand out to Lexa.

Lexa took the hand as they shook on a secret deal. "Lovely. Let's be friends, then."

Lexa wasn't quite sure their skin contact was supposed to feel as strange as it had been feeling in such an early stage of friendship, but she decided to shove her wine-induced thought process down where it couldn't be thought of until Clarke left. And so, they continued to watch Netflix into the late hours of the night.