HI EVERYONE I hope y'all aren't mad at me for putting you through such a long wait! The past couple of weeks have been a lot of work, pretty stressful as well but now I'm back and feeling more hyped than ever for this story!
Enjoy!

It's seven o'clock when Lexa awakens, astonished and still very much on a victory high – but it seems her neck has developed a mind of itself, for her head is suddenly turning around, checking and seeing the empty spot on the left side of the bed.

She is not disappointed.

She is not.

But then why is she noticing, as she struts to the other side of the room, that the air still smells like her, and why is she invaded by this wicked thought, that maybe the sheets still smell like her as well? And as she takes a step towards the bed, she stops and huffs, in disbelief of such a ridiculous course of action.

This was excellent sex, but she is Lexa Woods, is she not? Lexa Woods appreciates excellent sex; therefore this is normal. No need to get all flustered over this, no need to look forward to practice, or the next game, or the trip back home because Clarke always sits in the front and maybe she could try to sit in the front as well for once…

A type of cold, robot-like concentration installs itself, taking total control of her blood stream while she's packing her two deodorant sticks, underwear and many other things (geez, it's almost like Anya is judging her from inside her conscience).

She did bring her own soap just to make her sister happy. The thought makes her smile for the first time of the day.

In the elevator, she meets Raven Reyes whose multiple bags barely fit inside the shaft, and silently wonders if there's a danger the machine might drop with all the weight.

"What you got in all of this?" She can't help but ask.

"Clothes", Raven shrugs, and her tone of common sense almost makes Lexa chuckle with the absurdity of the whole situation. "What don't you have in yours?"

Lexa smirks, eyeing the unique baggage currently sitting by her feet like a ridiculous guard dog. "Fair", she mumbles absent-mindedly as the doors open and they strut into the lobby, only to see that the bus has already arrived.

Reeve is putting on her coat with one vigorous shrug and meeting up with some of the equipment staff, then she motions casually towards the pile of luggage beside the chic lobby couch. "And to answer your question, Blake – nope, we won't be having a morning skate tomorrow."

Sweet, Lexa thinks, then pauses because that certainly means they'll be having an off day – an off day in Doah, with its miles and miles of beaches and cocktails and garlic lobster tails, and magnificent terrasses shaded by palm trees…

"When's the flight?" she hears Raven ask before climbing the bus stairs.

"We leave at ten, we get there around twelve thirty", Reeve affirms, taking her seat in front of the bus, then clapping loud enough to get the players' attention. "Alright, quick message to you girls. First of all, CONGRATS!"

The whole bus comes alive with cheers and shouts of victory, Raven going as far as yelling her signature 'woot woot' coupled with a fist pump.

"So, mighty fine win, that gives me no choice… How about I give you the afternoon tomorrow?"

The previous cheers seemed loud, yet they can't hold a candle to the roar of triumph and excitement drawn from such an announcement. If they weren't currently in a bus, the girls would almost be bouncing around like kangaroos on a coffee high.

"Oh shit, there's a beach there, right?!" Raven later asks a highly displeased Octavia who wants nothing but to settle on her seat with noise-cancelling headphones and her relaxation playlist.

She makes sure to let Raven know just that. "Yes, there is a beach there. Now-" She points to her headset with a fake smile. "My peace of mind."

Raven seems to reflect on the issue for a short while, then has another aha moment. "What about hot people? Hot people on the beach? Hot people on the beach under a palm tree?"

"I don't fucking know-" Octavia sighs, fumbling with her headphones like she doesn't even know what to do with them anymore. "Do I look like I know?" She asks around, looking at the teammates nearby and catching Lexa's amused gaze in the process, gaze that says I'll take over.

"Ever heard of Doah girls, Reyes?" Lexa asks with the tone of the globetrotter who's seen anything and everything.

Raven's eyebrows come shooting up in bewilderment. "That bad, huh?"

"Fucking diabolical", Lexa winks, then has a sigh of nostalgia. "Magical, but diabolical as well."

She's caught Clarke's attention with that last comment. The blonde goalie is first clueless about the conversation, but is then informed by Octavia's non-verbal communication - which consists of mimicking big boobs being grabbed and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, come on." Clarke deplores, her feminist instincts set off by the topic. "Girls there aren't all pieces of meat for you to jump on, Lexa."

Raven quickly joins her side to make sure she doesn't get the blame. "Very true, Clarke. And I asked about the guys!"

"What is your deal with objectifying people like that-" Clarke starts, only the be cut off carelessly by Lexa.

"I didn't really watch the guys, to be honest."

"So you are not only gay, but very gay", Raven shrugs, unwrapping the odd sandwich she's just produced from one of her multiple bags.

"That's right."

"Couldn't you simply assess quality?" Raven tries again, desperate.

"Would you leave her alone? She isn't an expert, last I checked." Clarke intervenes seriously.

Lexa chuckles, unable to keep her arrogant self locked out any longer. "Wouldn't be so sure about that."

That makes Clarke pissed.

And for obvious reasons, one would think, except Lexa is more used to annoyed Clarke - the Clarke that gives her a little smack upside the head or pushes her away (still smiling uncontrollably) whenever she says something inappropriate, because of course Clarke then acts all chocked like the respectable lady she is, says her name like an angry mom calling over her guilty child, gives her the eye enlargement. Then it's all 'shut it, would you?' and 'would you please grow up?" but she's still got that light in her eyes that means she either wants to slap her or kiss the dear life out of her.

It takes a while for Lexa to even figure out why Clarke would be mad at her, but she finally succeeds at the complex task by playing the scene over and over in her head, then focussing solely on Clarke's reactions, and the words to which she was reacting and holy shit she's jealous.

Lexa is confused and blinks, blinks, blinks.

Jealous?

That doesn't seem like Clarke, she first thinks, but is suddenly hit by truckloads of content – images of Clarke rudely joking about her many admirers, Clarke's very frequent eye rolls whenever she brought up a previous affair, and the way she'd get uncomfortable whenever someone joked about Lexa's sex skills.

The face she made that one time Wayne sat on her lap.

When she asked her whether she wanted to trade her for Robin Eriksen.

It's suddenly too much for Lexa, and she finds herself literally chasing Clarke on the runway to the plane, only to bump into the wall the goalie clearly built around herself.

"Do you want something?" she asks, unshakable.

Lexa almost rolls her eyes, but stops at the last second in fear it would only make Clarke angrier. "Uh, maybe a nice panini, now that you've asked."

Seeing Clarke's deadpan look, she quickly adds : "Other than that, no, I don't want anything."

"That's great", Clarke simply affirms, every single part of her face implying the exact opposite.

Lexa cannot help the sigh that escapes her lips as she scans her interlocutor's eyes in search of any concrete signals. She finds none.

"Alright, then, I'll go straight to the point… That's what I'm gonna do."

It suddenly appears to her that once again, Clarke reduces her communication abilities by ninety eight percent. "Starting now", she pathetically specifies, and feels like Bambi trying to walk on thin ice.

"Well good to know", Clarke replies with a little sarcastic nod that sends Lexa burning.

"Fuck, why do you have to be like this…?" She mumbles, then gets downright startled by Clarke's reaction.

"I'm sorry?" She asks, her tone sending shards of ice flying towards Lexa's face.

"Jesus Christ, Griffin, take it down a notch", the captain counters, not giving her bewilderment away.

"What would you rather have me like? I'm not plastic enough for you, is that it?"

"Plasti-" Lexa starts, then promptly starts her sentence over. "What are you even saying?"

Clarke scoffs indignantly as she crosses her arms over her chest, dropping one of her bags in the process. "I'm saying that with the ease with which you bring up your affairs." At that, her voice turns into a hushed whisper. "That if you bring me up in the future, even anonymously, I will…"

She stops, in search of words, and Lexa is nearly moved by the vulnerability demonstrated, the raw disarray leaking from Clarke's façace of composure.

This invites doubt inside Lexa, a doubt so searing and scorching it leaves her bare, searching for her breath, shame puddling in her guts. She gets sick of herself, even only for an instant.

And for Alexandria Woods to feel sick of herself, that says it all.

"Clarke", she only says – the way the name comes tumbling out of her is deeply surprising.

"Yes", the goalie bites back, still hostile.

"Do you really think I could do this?"

To you, she should've said, do this to you, but it's too late.

She sees the surprise light itself in Clarke's cobalt gaze like a spotlight on a scene – sudden, almost chastening, turning her into a performer waiting for the curtain call.

She isn't aware of the terrible certitude eating Clarke from the inside, the certitude that no, she does not think Lexa capable of such things – truth is, she cannot cope with the fact that Lexa hurts people, that it's what she used to do and therefore can do again, even though she held her in such extraordinary ways, even though she was breathing erratically in her neck just last night, even with the look she gives her, the look that says terrible things and speaks terrible thoughts that maybe she wants to kiss her again so bad and maybe she would be ripped apart from the inside if it so happens that she can never see her again.

Of course, not knowing all this makes it all the more complicated.

"Yes", Clarke lies, with a look to the left at the boarding in progress.

Lexa believes her.

Doah looks like heaven on Earth when the plane lands, looks like all the plastic sets of a typical Hollywood movie – the way the water reflects the sunlight and the palm trees sway like they're dancing, and everyone seems so joyful and satisfied it's almost uncanny.

Raven, being Raven, jumps straight to her hotel room and is back from said room in a matter of minutes (not that Lexa counted), and when she erupts from the automatic doors and into the tropical weather, she's got pink sunglasses on and a straw hat that makes her look 'touristy', as Clarke puts it.

Together, they assemble their beach group, composed of Lexa, Clarke, Raven and Charlie. The rest of the girls either decided to stay at the hotel for the afternoon (Lexa heard the spa is famously recognized) or are leaving to shop or play golf. The idea of an 18-hole game in such paradisiac setting first appealed at Lexa, but for some reason Raven loathes golf.

"Why do you hate it that much?" Clarke later asks while assembling a polka dot parasol, and laying a blanket under it.

"She won't tell you", assures Charlie, who obviously knows something more than the others.

Raven looks up at them, both hands holding ice cream sandwiches. Her hat lends her this austere look, one her sunglasses can only amplify. "No, and you won't either."

"You can't control me", Charlie says, tone sassy and defying.

"I sure cannot", Raven admits, but she's already motioning towards the sunscreen bottle on the blanket, "yet this bottle here can act as a weapon."

"In what way?" Langton asks, pro forma, for she knows exactly what her friend means.

And Raven jumps to her feet, bottle in hand - which she points at Langton in a threatening manner. "I would suggest running."

"Thank you for the suggestion", replies the winger, but she's thrown aback by the sudden squirt of the bottle, and the jet of sunscreen she barely has enough time to block with her hands.

Clarke sees them run past her and smiles at the infantility displayed – she's mature, as usual, she's got the smile of a parent watching children play.

Once the pair of 'children' is away from sight, Lexa breathes in and realises that she and Clarke are now alone, side by side, and this makes the air around her turn torrid in and instant. She wants to make sure things don't get awkward, therefore she looks for tools of any nature – and finds one. "Frisbee?" she asks, waving the object around and grinning when Clarke lets a chuckle escape her rigid exterior.

"That's probably the less fun thing you can do at the beach", the blonde mutters nonetheless.

"Says who?" Lexa exclaims like the ten-year-old she suddenly becomes whenever there's a game involved.

"Me and every other person I know", Clarke replies with a shrug.

Lexa snorts, turns her gaze to the waves grasping at the sand and leaving it damp and dark in their wake. "See, you're no fun, when you're like that."

Clarke sighs, rubs at her face with the top of her wrist. "Sorry."

"No problem", Lexa also sighs. "I'll just look dumb if I play alone."

That makes Clarke laugh.

A proper laugh, not just a chuckle. Then she looks at Lexa and her eyes have gone soft, have gone affectionate, and it's almost too real, too close to the look you see between married people, that look of admiration that says I'm lucky you're here.

Maybe Clarke is realizing that Lexa has this part of her, this outrageously innocent, childish part of her, that she doesn't show anybody else.

Some hidden side of a solid, imperturbable woman who puts on a show and celebrates her goals like an arrogant superstar but is also likely to transform into a puddle of goo as soon as a certain blonde goalie enters the room.

"Oh, I'm that funny?" Lexa grins, sticking her tongue out a tad.

"You have your moments", Clarke admits, still laughing softly.

"Frequent moments, dare I say", Lexa points out, stretching out on her blanket.

"Rare", Clarke coughs, yet not entirely masking the word.

Lexa scoffs, then blows a raspberry. "Lies, Griffin. You're a big liar."

"Ouch! Did I just get called big?" Clarke barks back, only half-insulted.

Immediately, Lexa tries to recover. "No, of course not-" She gestures randomly in the air, as if trying to fill in the blanks with eloquence (except the effect isn't convincing). "You're… thin."

If Clarke had been drinking coffee, she would've spit it out violently. "Wait a sec, that's all you can do?"

"I guess."

"Don't guess, try", Clarke offers, seemingly unable to notice Lexa's growing discomfort.

Discomfort which spawns from the feelings growing inside of Lexa – feelings of attachment, feelings she can barely repress with their indomitable force pushing down on her resolve, pushing down and extinguishing all things she thought she knew, resulting in uncertainty.

Brutal uncertainty.

She's left hanging on a thread, she's left searching for answers she does not possess.

"What do you want me to say?"

Her voice sounds exposed.

"Geez, I don't recognize you, today. A month ago, you were flirting all the fucking time, and now you can't even call me-"

"Don't do this, Griffin."

She is pretty. She is terribly, dangerously, rivetingly pretty. Therefore Lexa cannot call her such a thing, she cannot submit to emotions of any kind because that's when it becomes real.

And then it's not easy anymore, it's not in good fun and in laughter and in messing around in hotel rooms, half drunk, with no worries and no expectations.

"You're right", Clarke simply admits.

Lexa raises an eyebrow, surprised by such a quick compliance. "I am?" She says, and the truth is a part of her wants to call Clarke pretty, wants to call her charming as well, wants to tell her she's getting fond of her, but that's as impossible as it is humiliating to Lexa. Just then, it occurs to her that she might regret this one day. She chases the thought away immediately.

"Yeah", Clarke puffs, her words almost indistinguishable from the air escaping her lungs simultaneously.

She turns around so that they're both facing each other, bent arms acting as pillows for their heads. "We'd need rules", Clarke says, lays it out in the open, but her voice sounds indecisive like she's just proposing something, not deciding its verity, and let's not forget she didn't want rules at first, or simply didn't think they needed any. One could even imagine a possible question mark at the end of her sentence.

Do we need rules?

"We would", Lexa affirms like it's a mantra she doesn't truly relate to. A philosophy quote whose meaning she can't properly grasp.

"Alright, then."

They both sound hesitant, maybe even reluctant. "It'll be safer."

"Definitely", Lexa declare, a bit too keen.

"Yeah, so the first one… Any ideas?"

Lexa doesn't have to think about it too long. "No staying the night?"

"Uh-huh, yeah, that'd work."

Lexa notes the possibility tone, how she uses would instead of will. "No kissing in public."

"Well of course not", Clarke affirms with a fake laugh that almost instantly dies out.

The next one burns a bit as it leaves Lexa's mouth (not that she'll admit it). "No expectations."

"No displays of affection", Clarke counters right away, and any quick-witted individual would've labeled it as self-defence.

"No cuddling", Lexa says after a short moment of reflection.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, no big spoon and little spoon", the captain declares like it's common knowledge.

"When would that even happen?" Clarke asks, sceptic.

In bed, she wants to say. "I don't know", she says instead, and quickly changes the subject. "No exclusivity."

"What, you wanna fuck other people?" Clarke asks, the hint of a bite in her tone.

No, Lexa thinks. Not because she doesn't want to, but because she can't. Maybe she's broken, or something like that. Maybe (surely) Clarke did this to her. "Well, suppose we want to try something else… After a while."

"Not a good answer", Clarke warns with as much calm as she can muster.

"I said hypothetically!"

"I do not remember you saying that."

"Strange."

"You either hallucinated it or made it up for the sole purpose of escaping my wrath."

At that, Lexa frowns. "Impressive deduction."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

Clarke turns to face her and she looks like she's studying her, searching for something, a clue of some kind, perhaps? "But seriously though, I don't mind if you wanna get your daily dose of chicks, just don't talk about them, or don't mention them, or don't-"

"No, of course not", Lexa assures right away, and the secret here is she's saying no to many things – no to bringing someone else home again, no to the meaningless fucks she used to barely remember the day after when she woke, no to even thinking about another girl, for she's trying real hard to picture herself with anyone other than Clarke, yet fails miserably. For some reason, she sees only, only her.

Sees her eyes and lips, remembers the crease of her back and how she arches upward a tad when Lexa kisses her neck, and the sound of her voice when she begs. She gets dizzy just by thinking of it all.

"Well then, that settles it, doesn't it?"

Doesn't it? A question, again. It's almost like this whole conversation has this big, invisible question mark standing at the end of it.

"Yeah", Lexa mutters, a bit shaken up like she's just been pulled back from the depths of her subconscious and into the reality.

A reality which can be summed up by a few words – Doah, the beach, the unknown.

She grabs the frisbee again from the top of the cooler and abruptly stands, motioning towards the stripe of pale sand stretching along the coast. "Get up and toss the fucking frisbee."

Clarke obeys without a word, but she's smiling.

"That's great Lexa – if you could turn just slightly to the left and bend forward."

Clarke watches Lexa nod politely, and obey in the blink of an eye – one must say that Lexa likes spotlights, whether they be during a game or during a photoshoot, or during a commercial such as the one they're filming right now.

And Clarke has to admit that standing near camera three with her goalie pants is growing uncomfortable, just as she has to admit that Lexa giving her best charming grins at said camera is very fun to watch.

They're filming Bauer commercials during which each of them has to try out a new piece of equipment, making for both individual clips and a commercial of them going toe to toe and joking around.

As soon as Clarke hears the pitch, she thinks, that'll make some good bloopers.

And she's right. In fact, it is now two in the afternoon, and they've had to push the commercial to the very end to get the snippets out of the way (that's not how they said it, but surely it's what they meant). She never thought she'd be saying that, but Lexa is funny today.

"Should I break into a dance?" Lexa asks at some point – just standing there at the end of the take, looking all too serious and without the shadow of a smile.

The staff members all look at the producer, who blinks. "That won't be necessary."

"Alrighty then", Lexa casually backtracks and later turns towards Clarke, making sure they've got a camera on them. "I can tell they've never seen me dance."

Clarke almost snorts her sip of coffee, then recoils on her chair in fear she might fall down. "I think so too", she giggles, and the two exchange a knowing glance that makes Clarke recall their moments of chemistry on the ice, and she suddenly realizes just how many of these they've shared.

The main scenes are simple: in the first one, there's a camera close up on water bottles being hit by Lexa's pucks, and then the next scenes either involve Lexa training coupled with a voiceover, and then her playing against Clarke.

Clarke's part also involves training by herself, making routine saves and measuring her skills to Lexa's. She's noticed how sports companies have developed an interest in them, how they enjoy the mix of Clarke's bubbly personality and Lexa's confident, self-assured demeanor.

"Okay so from the moment you say 'when I'm in that place'."

Lexa turns towards the technician, nods politely and gets in position near the sliding camera. She has to sprint to the center of the ice, then break suddenly and recover a puck, drawing a circle in backwards skating.

"In three", warns the producer as he raises three fingers.

Lexa just stands in cool concentration, and sets off like a bullet as soon as the clapperboard snaps. The sound of scraping blades fills the arena, only amplified once she breaks casually yet graciously, and sends snow flying a half meter away.

She snatches the puck flat on the blade of her stick, manipulates it in an effortless move then slides it between the other pucks, lined up and dangerously close to one another – but Lexa neither hits nor touches any. When she gets to the last one, she quickly jumps over the line and takes a shot at the net, even going as far as doing one of her signature celebrations – gliding with one knee down and a hand stroking the ice.

It almost seems too good to be true – and Clarke knows this is when she comes in.

"Cut!" Yells the producer. "Alright, I think we'd need a goalie!"

Clarke smiles at that, pulls her jersey over her head and reaches for her mask on the table nearby. "Coming for ya, Woods", she chants as she steps off the carpet and onto the ice, drawing a few circles as a warmup.

"Why don't you stretch or something?" Lexa replies, mouthpiece half out and helmet unfastened - all of it part of the captain's irreverent, show-off attitude that Clarke does not like.

Does not.

"Oh, how nice of you, I didn't know you felt this concerned about my flexibility."

Clarke catches a technician's glance towards the producer, glance that says who did we hire? She even thinks she sees the producer shrug, but it might've been an optical illusion.

So she does stretch, just to piss off Lexa – and because it barely works, she begins to think Lexa just isn't as easily frustrated as she once was.

Or maybe she likes seeing Clarke stretch.

The goalie reviews each and every move she does while stretching and struggles to grasp the possible sexiness they would hold. She is way too dressed to be sexy at the moment, isn't she?

"Alright, Lexa's voiceover goes 'this is my territory'. Then, zoom on the net, we hear Clarke saying 'and this is mine'. So we've got the clash of both worlds."

"Who wins? Is it up to us?" Clarke asks, not forgetting the ongoing rivalry between the two of them.

Lexa just rolls her eyes, because she's doing a job and not playing right now – but she's still got her playful smirk that says she wants to win so bad. "Clarke, you child", she mumbles, suddenly acting like the adult.

"I think the point is to make it end in a tie", an assistant suggests from behind the others, notepad in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.

"Good idea", says Lexa, like the witty little shit she is, and her voice almost sounded frank.

Almost.

The first shots turn out to be a complete yet intended mess – at times they're literally chasing each other on the ice, making jokes or dancing in sync. Clarke laughs so much she can barely feel her face.

Ultimately, they shoot more intense shots – it's still in good fun, but they're taking it more seriously. Lexa is told to experiment different types of dekes, and Clarke eases off once she sees Lexa attempt to spin around while hitting the puck mid-air. It turns out that it's a shot she actually does in practice, and however crazy it may seem, Clarke lets it in (she was probably too focused on Lexa's attractive, concentrated expression).

"Try, Griffin", the captain mutters while recoiling backwards slowly, looking annoyingly laid back.

"Okay, get off Thunderbolt", Clarke counters with a smirk.

She waits for Lexa's confused expression to unfold as she takes a quick drink from the Gatorade bottle on the net. "Who's Thunderbolt?"

"The high horse you're sitting on."

Lexa outright abandons, spinning so as not to face her anymore. "Griffinnnnnnn…!" She whines, but she's evidently entertained - it shows, with the smile she tries (and fails) to wipe off her face, and the snorting laughter that later escapes her lips.

"Should we keep that?" asks the cameraman, twice as confused as Lexa.

"No", Lexa replies, polite but firm.

Clarke's attempt at bewilderment comes out as a strangled snicker. "What? Yes! Put it in the bloopers!"

The cameraman's gaze jumps from Lexa, to Clarke, to the producer who gives a feeble nod. "Eh, why not? It's fun."

"You didn't laugh", Clarke points out carefully.

"I experienced a mental hilarity", the producer shrugs, and Clarke starts genuinely liking the guy.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lexa asks with the look of a puzzled puppy, and Clarke just shushes her.

When urged to explain further, Clarke simply rambles as she usually does. "Let's just say I am a funny, complex individual and the jokes I make are sometimes-"

"Dumb, Clarke. You make dumb jokes", Lexa finishes, poker-faced.

Clarke lets out a vociferous sigh of annoyance. "Pardon me!? I'm sorry you aren't smart enough to understand them."

"I think you're not smart enough to understand them, which makes you think they're way better than they actually are."

"I DO understand, since I'm the one making the joke!"

"Debatable."

Lexa braces herself for the hit – it comes in the form of a lively push that sends her sliding towards the board.

"You're a jerk. I'll rob you", says Clarke, and Lexa is suddenly delighted.

And so they start by doing practice shots, supposedly for fun, but the two girls grow more involved by the minute (Clarke almost pulls a muscle extending the leg for a save she doesn't even need to make).

They do have fun, though.

And Clarke wouldn't admit it immediately, but she's smiling inside out. She feels alive, she feels like she's on top of her game, and why not on top of the world, while you're at it?

The funniest, most absurd thing that comes to her is how she used to hate Lexa – she avoided her in corridors, sped away when she approached, yelled at her, sneered at her, pushed her away whenever she invaded her personal space. And now she loves it, when Lexa gets up close. She would never push her away again – not seriously, that is.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot!" Clarke yells in an attempt to distract Lexa, even going as far as sending her paddle sliding towards her skates. It'd be really nasty if only Lexa wasn't one of the finest skaters – she just jumps over it and recovers the puck in a burst of laughter.

"Yeah, no stick, how's that?" the captain teases while approaching the net, shoulders unstrung yet gaze still in attack mode.

"I can manage", Clarke affirms, knowing very well that she cannot, in fact, do so.

Not against Lexa, in any case.

The center picks the puck from the ground, bringing her stick closer to the ice to gain speed once she suddenly jerks upwards – the puck now glued to her stick blade – and spins to knock the puck inside the corner of the net.

Clarke has seen that move already – has seen it, studied it, told herself that no player ever does that in a game but here she is now wondering if Lexa has the confidence required to pull such a feat instead of just shooting. Then she sees the cocky smirk reappear, sees the producer's hands rise in bewilderment and joy, and she knows Lexa could do it, would do it.

She's all fuzzy inside, now. Isn't this great…?

They look at the clips with genuine excitement, as Clarke can tell that the ad will definitely look badass, what with Lexa's half driven, half relaxed behavior and the evident complicity the two of them share on the ice. The whole crew looks satisfied with the work – and when Lexa asks if they have enough material for some bloopers, all of them nod vigorously at the same time.

"We're just funny, I guess", Clarke shrugs as they later fool around on the ice a bit.

Lexa passes her in backwards skating, and she's got a mischievous glimmer in the eyes. "Well I don't know about you, Griffin, but I do know I'm hilarious."

"Now, now, don't let it go to your head", Clarke sighs, yet still playful.

"Too late", Lexa sings, gaining speed and making the lap effortlessly.

Clarke just rolls her eyes at that, and cups her mouth to shout at her captain now shrinking in the distance. "I think it did end in a tie, though!"

Lexa pivots backwards immediately, looking both amused and irritated. "Griffin, you threw your stick at me. I call that desperation."

Clarke scoffs and her eyebrows shoot straight up. "Desperation!? If I was that desperate I wouldn't throw my equipment and thereby make my job even harder."

Lexa opens her mouth, then closes it before it gets awkward. Clarke catches up on her towards the exit of the rink and gives her a playful shove. "And they said you were a roughneck."

"I am in fact… Would you stop laughing?!"

"Sorry", Clarke half giggles, stepping off the ice.

"You just forgot how dangerous I am", Lexa brags like a ruffled peacock, and she's almost at the hallway when she hears Clarke bark in laughter once more.

"You're real dangerous, Lexa – oh don't talk back, dear, you'll look like a lion cub trying to roar."

And Clarke is stepping into the locker room when she feels Lexa's stature pressing into her back and soon remembers that Lexa is pretty tall on skates and Lexa is also very jacked, and then she finds her green eyes once she turns around – not quite menacing, but reminiscent of this boiling heat of a character who's now become an entirely new person. "How long has it been, Griffin?"

"No idea."

"Make an effort", Lexa outright growls, and Clarke swears she saw her jaw twitch.

That kickstarts her brain all right, but she's unable to pinpoint the amount of time that went by since the Classic. A week, maybe? Surely not two weeks. Surely.

"There it is- me making an effort. Not very successful so far."

Lexa's eyes settle on her face, avoiding her gaze and piercing her barriers altogether, and it's like she's a rare animal being spotted by a curious explorer. Suddenly, she feels naked under a spotlight.

"Uh, it's been eight days, and believe it or not you don't wanna piss me off when I'm horny."

"Ha! That sounded wrong and I love it."

"It was supposed to be wrong, Clarke, it's not like I tried to hide anything."

And with that, Lexa takes a step forward (more like an agile leap, but Clarke tries not to pay attention) and that sends a small gust of her breath in Clarke's neck.

Fuck.

Clarke takes a deep breath, unaware of it being a big mistake for she then breathes in Lexa and it takes everything in her not to stumble backwards and fall on a pile of bags. Then Lexa is slightly leaning forward and their mouth are inches away, inches of need and pure, gut-wrenching lust. "Bad plan. Bad plan", Clarke mumbles, the first time not as intelligible as the second.

Lexa not only hears her but huffs in impatience.

"It's never a good plan, Griffin. Don't you see that?"

"Hey, it's not my fault you fucking picked me up like a sack of potatoes-"

All air seemingly leaves her lungs at once when Lexa dips forward and kisses her way down her neck – she sighs and almost nods her head unintentionally. "I do get your point."

She feels the tip of Lexa's tongue and her knees buckle – yet the captain seizes her with charming confidence, hand first on the small of her back, then moving down to her ass and giving a firm squeeze.

"I see we've reached the ass level."

Lexa almost chokes on her own saliva. "What?"

"The level of intimacy where one gives butt squeezes."

Lexa gives her an eye roll, pupils full of that mischievous gleam of hers. "I'll show you butt squeezes, you little-"

Clarke quickly backs away with a little yelp as Lexa pursues her around the room and quickly closes the distance, imprisoning her into a fierce but playful bearhug.

"Lexa, for fuck's sake!" Clarke squeaks a she squirms away from her grip only to be slapped on the ass. She turns around, not sure if she feels insulted or not – but all anger suddenly vanishes from her once she sees Lexa's toothy grin. "You little shit…"

She "attacks" Lexa with little shoves and slaps but the latter is laughing so hard the whole situation turns comedic in itself. "Ouch, stop that, you're hurting me."

Clarke just pouts – but Lexa pulls her in and kisses said pout, kisses it, like she's not that self-advertised jackass anymore but its softer, gentler counterpart, the part Clarke blushes at and giggles at, the part that wants to act tough but cannot. Not anymore.

They kiss like they're deprived and starved and parched – it becomes dirty when Lexa sucks harder, starts biting and licking all at once and Clarke lets out a sigh that reverberates into her mouth. Soon they're breathing erratically, mouths crashing and recoiling only to take in little gulps of air, just enough to stay conscious, that is. Kisses deepen, become this sort of frantic, risky business, become violent, become dangerous. Clarke feels her mind as it's derailing, breaks the kiss with a loud pop to find Lexa's eyes still locked into hers – feral, careless. "We're getting dumb."

"Uh-huh", Lexa hums with an immediate descent back to Clarke neck, going up to the back of her ear this time, both sucking and biting.

"Fuck, you don't know where we are, do you?"

Lexa appears to make an effort. "Nobody's there, though."

"Nobody from the team."

"Doesn't matter."

"What about all the fucking staff, Lexa? What, do you think this whole place just empties itself while all of us are gone?"

That makes Lexa flinch. "No, I get you."

Once they've effectively separated and retreated to opposite sides of the room, silence settles and lingers until Lexa lets out a frustrated sigh. "You're right."

"I know", Clarke offers with a smile that might just be a scowl and Lexa's eyes jump right back to her face, take in the sight of her all agitated and apprehensive, take it all until it gets too much and her glance has to flee elsewhere.

"What if that's just us getting accustomed to the rules?" Lexa blurts out, rubbing at her neck while Clarke stays motionless.

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Then they're nodding at each other, almost frantically. They're both unaware that this looks a lot like denial.

"Alright, then."

"Yeah", Clarke mumbles unconsciously.

"Stop saying 'yeah' all the time."

"You say it as well."

"You say it more."

Clarke chuckles feebly. "If by more you mean one time more than you-"

"See ya, Griffin", Lexa interrupts her suddenly as she struts out of the room and into the hallway, thinking she might just pass out from the animosity and the adrenalin coursing through her blood, back and forth.

She's getting weak, these days, isn't she?

One minute spent with Clarke Griffin and she's worn out like she ran a marathon.

From time to time, she even regrets her life in Polis - not because it was further away from her family and friends but because it was easier.

She lived alone.

She spent time forgetting stuff, and she almost succeeded.

Maybe it's because of Clarke that she now sees glimpses of her life go by at extreme speed and that she feels the urge to run red lights and just get her freedom back, get it all back like it was before when she had control. She pulls the windows down and feels the wind rushing in her lungs and in her hair, some sort of shock, something that both chokes her and revives her.

At once, she blinks, and she sees Costia.

The door, as it slams, sends a framed picture swinging to the floor. The crushing noise resulting tells Lexa the glass broke, but she couldn't care less.

"Alright, Lex, just tell it as it happened."

The voice of her sister came from the other side of the door, she's sure of it.

"Nothing to tell", she assures, but she's trembling like a leaf now.

"Oh, please."

Lexa takes a deep breath and feels the tears gathering at the corner of her eyelids. "Alright, she cheated. That's what you wanted to know, is it?"

Silence. Anya must be a mess too, it appears, with the quivering sigh she hears behind the door.

Then, her voice turns smaller, like it doesn't know where it belongs. "Oh, Lexa."

"Don't pity me. I… She wanted to get back at me."

"And for what?"

Lexa opens her mouth but is interrupted at the very start.

"Don't tell me you neglected her."

"But I did. And she's a bitch for doing that, but I wasn't great either so I guess that's a lesson."

"Lexa, she cheated while you merely did your job and went to all the try-outs and made sure you'd earn your living. I don't call that neglection."

"I didn't say I deserved it, I just said she had a reason. An… You have to see me as I am, alright, not as your sister. Look at the headlines, and look at this life I'm living and then tell me how I can fit someone in."

"That has nothing to do with-"

Lexa finds herself standing in the room like a neurotic freak, all trembling hands and pale skin and reddened eyes. "I'm tired of being like this! I'm… I'm giving so much…! Don't you see that!? Dinners, all on me, super expensive gifts, then I fly there and back, because I can't be late or I can't leave my cellphone ringing in my pocket without fearing she might jump to conclusions and say I'm ignoring her! Goddamnit, I'm not doing this shit again! I… I did it once, and it's not for me, and I'm not getting through this again!"

"Breathe, Lexa, breathe."

She starts walking circles in the room, restless. "Yeah, 'cause it's not what I'm doing right fucking now…"

"Just… Just in and out, Lexa, in and out."

And she does, just for the sake of it.

In.

She almost coughs, but exhales slowly as the pain in her chest grows and the tightness increases. "She… I found them in the shower. She was there and she was glad and that was payback, to her. Fuck."

Out.

She coughs violently, and that makes room for the sudden burst of emotion - tears and whimpers come rushing out of her, leaving her panicking and falling right down to the floor, just when Anya opens the door and catches her, hugs her, wipes the tears off her face. "I got you, I got you", is all Lexa hears, all that gets to her as she grips her sister's arm with a sense of urgency she didn't even know existed.

"I loved her", Lexa chokes and Anya just strokes her hair and tells her she knows.

And from there, they rock back and forth on the bathroom's ceramic floor.

Lexa falls asleep in her sister's arms.

Thank you for reading, see you next update!

Lots of love

xx