Chapter Three

The ride to Lexa's house was relatively painless. At least, from what Clarke could tell. The brunette did actually take her up on the offer to wear her helmet…and her shoulder pads. Clarke tried not to be insulted (she was an excellent driver, after all) but every time she glanced over at Lexa, the girl had her eyes closed and a grimace on her face.

At a red light, Clarke reached out to place her hand on Lexa's knee and the teen practically jumped out the window. "Are you doing okay?" Clarke asked, softly, when Lexa finally opened her eyes and looked over at her. Clarke was only going ten miles an hour (which was about thirty miles below her usual speed) and Lexa still looked terrified.

"I'm f-fine," Lexa replied, gritting her teeth slightly. "J-just a l-little anxious." She took a deep breath. "I really don't like cars."

"I can see that," Clarke sighed. "How did you handle driving down from TonDC?"

"Not very well. I had to lay down in the back and pretend I was on a boat." She took another deep breath as Clarke started driving again. "It didn't work as well as I'd hoped, but Anya didn't want to stop or slow down. She said it would be like…ripping off a band aid."

"And it wasn't?" Clarke asked. Lexa shook her head. "Okay, so…how about we try something different, then?"

"Like what?" Lexa asked, gripping the door when Clarke accelerated to 15 so she could make a yellow light. She slowed the second they were in the clear.

"Well, at the speed we're going, we'll be at your house in about…ten minutes," Clarke estimated, grinning a little. "So that's enough time for two songs." At the next light, she reached for the radio, switching it on. "You wanna play DJ?"

"Just to distract me?" Lexa asked. Clarke nodded. "Fine. I don't think it'll work though." Keeping a firm grip on the door, Lexa reached out for the radio, her long fingers wrapping around the dial, searching through the static for something she liked. When she found it, a wide grin spread across her face and Clarke lifted one brow as Mel B's laugh echoed around her car.

"Spice Girls?" she laughed. "Really?"

Lexa's smile widened further. "Yo I'll…TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY, REALLY WANT!" Clarke burst into hysterics as Lexa began singing at the top of her voice, bouncing around in her seat a little. It took her a couple seconds to realize that the light had turned green and had just gone back to yellow as she drove through, her eyes focused on the road as Lexa continued to sing.

After a few seconds, Clarke started to sing along with her, making sure that both of her hands gripped the wheel (if only to comfort Lexa who might, at any moment, start drowning in her anxiety again) as she accelerated little by little until she saw the sign for Lexa's street and made a right turn, slowing down so that she could see the house numbers through the drizzling rain.

"It's that one," Lexa said, pointing to a little blue house at the end of the block. There was a two-car garage situated next to the house and a dented red Camry parked in front. "Looks like Anya's home already."

"Your sister?" Clarke asked and Lexa nodded, smiling a little. Clarke watched as her grip once again tightened around the door handle when she pulled into the driveway. Then Lexa's body seemed to relax completely when she shut off the engine and she practically scrambled out of the car into the rain, breathing an exaggerated sigh of relief. "You are so dramatic," Clarke teased and Lexa stuck her tongue out at her, underneath the helmet, receiving an eye roll from the blonde as she shut the car door and followed her friend up to the front door.

Lexa removed her helmet as she stepped through the door, tossing it to the side. "I'm home!" she called out, moving to take off the shoulder pads as well.

"We're in the kitchen!" a voice called from deeper in the house and Clarke followed Lexa down a hall to a rather large kitchen with an island in the center and a full arsenal of hanging pots and pans and utensils. Adjacently, it opened up into a kind of dining room with a six-person table covered in papers as a young boy bent over them, writing hastily with a pencil. At the stove, stirring a large pot of something that smelled amazing, was a tall woman with long blonde hair. She turned as they entered and smirked at the sight of Clarke. "Hello," she greeted. "Who's this?" she asked Lexa.

"Anya," Lexa replied, giving her a quick warning look, "this is my friend, Clarke. Clarke, this is my sister, Anya, and that nerd right there is my baby brother, Aden."

"Takes one to know one!" the boy shot back, not turning his eyes from his paper.

Clarke snorted and turned back to Anya, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you," she said, stepping forward. Anya put down her spoon and wiped her hand on the dishtowel draped over her shoulder, before offering her hand to Clarke over the island.

"Likewise," she said, her eyes twinkling. "So," she continued, giving them both a knowing look, her eyes focused mainly on Lexa, "you finally made a new…friend, huh?"

Confused, Clarke turned to see Lexa cross her arms over her chest, glaring at her older sister. "I have friends. Indra's my friend."

"I'm starting to believe you made her up," Anya said, turning back to stir the pot. "You've never invited her over for dinner." Lexa flushed at that.

"Indra's really busy," she murmured. "And her parents are strict. I told you that." She glanced at Clarke, nervously.

"It's true," Clarke said, sensing her discomfort. "Indra was never allowed to come to any of my birthday parties because her parents were against processed sugar. But, boy, give that girl any kind of candy…" she shook her head and Lexa snickered. Anya grinned at them over her shoulder.

"Well, I look forward to meeting her at next week's game. She's a cheerleader, isn't she?"

Clarke nodded. "So am I, actually," she said. "Indra and I are both bases."

"Bottoms?" Anya asked, giving them a Cheshire grin. "I thought most cheerleaders were tops."

"You mean flyers?" Clarke asked. She knew what Anya meant, but Lexa was close to having a full-fledged aneurysm next to her. She'd always wondered what it would be like to have an older sister. Now she was glad to be an only child, if only because she was able to escape the embarrassment. "Not all of us."

"Hmm," Anya said. "The more you know. Anyway, dinner will be ready in about half an hour. Aden, start putting your homework away and set the table."

"Why can't Lexa do it?" Aden asked, finally looking up at them with a pout.

"Because Lexa is going to wash the dishes," she replied. "Now come on. Get to it."

Aden sighed and pushed away from the table, piling all his papers together and setting them to the side, neatly. Clarke turned to Lexa, who was giving him a soft smile, reminding Clarke why it might be nice to have a younger sibling.

"Lex," Anya said, "go bring your dirty football shit up to your room, okay? I don't want it laying around like that. You're going to need it next weekend."

"Whatever," Lexa sighed, picking her pads up from the floor and making her way back down the hall.

Clarke followed her. "Nice meeting you," she called over her shoulder. In the living room, she scooped up Lexa's helmet before she could reach for it and then followed her up the steps to the second floor.

Lexa's bedroom was the second room on the left, down a short hallway. The door was cracked slightly and the doorknob was smudged glass. She turned it roughly and shoved the door open, revealing what looked to be a rather average room. There was a full-sized bed, a desk, two end tables, and a dresser lined with photographs and candles of all shapes and sizes. The floor was littered with cardboard boxes that had yet to be emptied, by the looks of it, but Clarke's eyes were drawn to the frame on the desk and she found herself gravitating towards it, the faces becoming clearer as got closer.

In the picture was a couple; a man and a woman. The man had a dark beard and brown eyes. His hair was shaved at the side and gelled back at the top, but Clarke could see a braid peeking out beside his right ear. He was rather large in stature, which was a stark contrast to the woman beside him, who was tiny and blonde, her hair cut into a pixie. She looked like a smiling Tinkerbell, her cheeks rosy and her lips as red as rose petals. She was wearing a white veil and he was wearing a black suit; it was their wedding day.

"They're my parents," Lexa explained, coming up next to Clarke. The blonde turned to see Lexa studying the picture with a soft smile on her face. "My mom gave that to Anya when we first came to live with them, so that she would never doubt how much they wanted us and loved us. But Anya used to catch me sneaking in her room to look at it, so she just…gave it to me."

"'Came to live with them'?" Clarke asked, confusion lacing her voice.

Lexa lifted one eyebrow. "You must have noticed that none of us looks alike, right?"

Clarke's eyes widened and she only had to think a second about it, before she nodded. None of the siblings looked like one another, nor did they look like either of their parents. Except Lexa; she could be her father's daughter…sort of.

Lexa smirked, turning back and walking toward her dresser. She plucked a frame from the top and brought it back to Clarke, placing it in her hands. The picture was of a young girl, sitting in a beanbag chair with a book in her hands and a toddler in her lap. Her mouth was open and Clarke could see she was missing a few teeth. Her hair was messy and blonde, some of it falling over her forehead, but Clarke could tell it was Anya. The girl in her lap must have been Lexa then, fast asleep against her sister's chest, thumb in her mouth. One of Anya's arms was wrapped tightly around her.

"That was the first day they came to our group home," Lexa informed her. "I was three and Anya was ten. She'd chosen me to be her baby sister and was really protective of me. It was a sort of adoption day, but Anya didn't really care too much about being chosen by a family. At ten, you're usually too old to get adopted, anyway, you know?" Clarke frowned at that, but nodded. "Anyway, our dad was the first one to see us and pointed it out to my mom, who was a photographer. She always said that they decided right then and there that they were going to leave with both of us in their family." Lexa smiled and Clarke could see a tear in her eye. She lowered one hand to hold hers and squeezed. Lexa gave her a smile and squeezed back.

"The year after that, we got Aden, who was only about a month old at the time and it was my turn to be the big sister." She tugged Clarke back to the dresser and held up another picture. This one was of a chubby four-year-old girl with a sizeable gap in her front teeth, sitting in a wide chair and holding a little bundled up baby with a tuft of strawberry blonde hair. Her smile lit up the room.

"Aw, you were so cute," Clarke gushed, reaching up to pinch Lexa's cheek. Lexa swatted her hand away, laughing, then put both photos back down.

"Shut up," she murmured, blushing slightly. Clarke laughed and squeezed her hand again, before backing away to look around the room a little more. In the corner, on the floor, was a stereo and she immediately switched it on, curious as to what other kinds of music Lexa was into. What flooded the room next made her laugh out loud.

"Billy Joel fan?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at a blushing Lexa. Wow, she blushed a lot.

"Are you saying that you don't like Billy Joel?" Lexa asked, raising one brow. "Because I think that may be a deal breaker."

"No, I love him!" Clarke assured her, turning up the music and then jumping to her feet. "He said 'SON CAN YOU PLAY ME A MEMORY, I'M NOT REALLY SURE HOW IT GOES'," she sang, dancing toward Lexa until she could pull the laughing girl into her embrace, spinning her around. Lexa quickly fell into step with her, grasping both of Clarke's hands in her own as they continued to do a mock waltz around the room, laughing as they continued to sing at the top of their lungs.

Clarke couldn't remember ever having this much fun in her life. Not even with—

The sudden, intrusive thought had her pausing in her steps for a second too long and then she was tripping and falling back onto the bed, tugging Lexa right over her with a grunt. The music had already started to fade by the time the brunette got her bearings and was able to push herself up with her hands on either side of Clarke's, their legs tangled off the side. Their noses were practically brushing for a moment longer than necessary before Lexa realized what was happening and scrambled to get off, losing her balance before Clarke pulled her back by her shoulders. In hindsight, she might have pulled a little too hard because the next thing either of them knew, the skin of their foreheads was slapping together and there was an audible clunk as their skulls knocked against one another.

"Ouch," Lexa groaned, finally untangling herself from Clarke and rolling over onto the bed beside her. Clarke echoed the sentiment and pressed her hand to her forehead. After a moment, they each turned their heads and shared a look, before they burst into hysterics, laughing and snorting unattractively, their eyes and lungs burning by the time their mirth died down to a couple of scattered giggles. They shared another look, green and blue melding between them, and Clarke could swear that Lexa was getting closer…

But then there was a knock on the door and Clarke bolted to her feet, catching herself as the door opened and Aden peeked in. She prayed she didn't look as out of sorts as she felt and the bored look the twelve-year-old gave her told her that her prayers were answered. He turned his gaze to Lexa, who was now sitting up, leaning back on her hands, casually.

"Dinner's ready," he told them. "Anya made lamb stew."

Lexa groaned, rolling her eyes. "Again?" she huffed.

"What did you expect?" the boy asked. "She only knows how to make, like, three things. Unless you want burnt toast or eggs again, I suggest you eat the stew." He turned to Clarke. "It's actually really good, I promise."

She smiled at him. "Sounds great," she said. He returned the smile and slipped back out, leaving them alone again.

Lexa let out a groan and fell back to the bed. "I'd rather eat a leather shoe," she said, throwing her hand over her face so that the words were muffled.

Clarke laughed and rolled her eyes. "Why are you so dramatic?" she snorted, tugging on Lexa's arm in an attempt to get her to stand. It was harder than she thought. "Lexa, come on. You eat a little stew and then we can have ice cream." Lexa breathed a deep sigh and finally allowed herself to rise.

"Fine," she said. "But I'm only doing this for the rocky road."

"Is Anya's stew really that bad?" Clarke laughed, tugging her toward the door.

"No, but we're had it nearly every night since we moved here. Our father was a chef and yet he couldn't teach her to make literally anything else. Hence, my appetite for leather."

Clarke snorted and shook her head, opening the door and pulling Lexa out after her, their fingers involuntarily tangling between them (not that either of them minded much, anyway).

I'm not sure if I want it to be a slow burn. The pace might pick up a little later, but how do you all like it so far? I'm going to try to update at least once a week, but I also have a lot of Castle fanfiction to update so don't hold me to that. Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!

ALSO WATCH FEAR THE WALKING DEAD IF YOU HAVE AMC AND SUPPORT ADC!