Chapter Text
“Sorry I’m late.”
Lexa startled as the voice of her cousin interrupted her monotonous monologue of yuletide woes.
Anya tossed her thick coat over the back of the barstool with a flourish and settled into her seat. “Traffic was-” Anya took the glass Lexa slid towards her and dragged a long, appreciative sip. “Fine.” She shrugged. “I’m just terrible with time management.”
“I’m aware,” Lexa sighed. She stared down at the drink in her hand, mesmerized by the way the slightly viscous cocktail clung to the sides of the glass.
Anya nudged her shoulder. “I didn’t expect dramatic fanfare, but I gotta say, this welcome is way less warm than I imagined.”
Lexa chuckled to herself. Anya was right. She hadn’t seen her cousin since the funeral. She’d never spent a Christmas without their Grams, and it was actually incredibly kind of Anya to come down early just so Lexa wouldn’t be alone. So Lexa mustered up a small dose of enthusiasm.
“Sorry,” Lexa murmured, turning in her seat to wrap her arms around Anya’s warm frame. “The holidays, you know?”
Anya rubbed a couple soothing circles on her back and squeezed with unusual softness. “I know.”
They held each other for a few seconds longer, and when the display of familial affection got too much for the both of them, Lexa retreated with a soft smile.
“So-” Lexa sipped her drink. “How’s the wife?”
“Good,” Anya nodded. “Jolly. Her enthusiasm for the holidays is annoyingly cute.”
“Y’all are adorable,” Lexa genuinely laughed.
“Ugh-” Anya rolled her eyes. “Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t get all nice and sappy just cuz it’s December, and I sorta called you out for not giving me a hug when I walked in.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.” But at the dark look Anya threw at her, Lexa held her hands up in resignation. “Fine.”
Anya glared for a moment longer, threatening Lexa to keep her word, but Lexa didn’t flinch. Anya might have looked tough and scary to the outside world, but she was a mush of feelings and caring underneath it all.
So Lexa just smiled and raised her drink. “Cheers.”
The clink of glasses signaled the start of their little festivities, and within an hour, Lexa’s cheeks warmed with the heat of alcohol and fond memories.
“Do you remember that Christmas a few years ago?” Lexa gasped, grasping Anya’s shoulder.
“You talking about the time Grams got tired of waiting around for you to not be a completely useless lesbian and decided to get you a date for her Christmas party herself?”
Lexa wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “And she arranged that wild speed dating trap for me.”
“I can’t believe you fell for that. How long did it take you to realize the random errands weren’t actually errands but elaborately planned meet-cutes that everyone was in on except you?”
“Hey-” Lexa, bold from the alcohol, punched Anya in the shoulder. “I thought I was helping her. The party was that night. You remember how crazy she’d get, wanting to make everything perfect and magical. It is not my fault I was trying to be a good and helpful granddaughter.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Anya shook her head and laughed. “I just assumed you would’ve picked up on the fact that multiple women giving you their numbers in the span of two hours wasn’t normal.”
Lexa just raised her eyebrow.
“Oh, shut up,” Anya scoffed light-heartedly. “You are so not as irresistible as you think you are. You inherited way too much of Grams’s sentimentality to be some sort of player.”
Lexa’s heart panged, and she hid her smile behind another sip of her drink. It was true. She’d never been one to date around or pursue countless romantic encounters, even if they did occasionally fall into her lap. She supported her friends and even Anya when they jumped from person to person over the years, but it just wasn’t for her.
She wanted that connection, that undeniable feeling of trust and comfort, and yeah, her Grams was the same way. Lexa used to love to hear her tell story after story about how she’d met their grandfather, how she’d known in a second that he was different, how she felt a sudden sense of familiarity. She wanted that. She wanted that inexplicable moment of knowing this one person was worth it all.
“Speaking of Grams’s desire for you to find someone…” Anya leaned over to dig her hand into her coat pocket.
“Grams’s ornament,” Lexa gasped.
Each band of tarnished silver, intricately designed in a beautiful pattern, shone in the dim light of the bar. Lexa reached out, and Anya placed the precious memory into her hand.
“Where did you get this?”
“Grams gave it to me last Christmas, just before I went home. She told me to give it to you when I thought you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Do you remember the story she’d tell?”
“Which one?” Lexa ran her thumb over the silver bauble, clutching it like a lifeline to her grandmother. “Grams told a lot of stories.”
“She did, didn’t she?” Anya smiled. She nudged Lexa’s shoulder. “But I’m talking about this, dummy.”
Lexa set the ornament on the bar, reminiscing about the past. “This was a magic ornament that would make the ones you loved most appear.”
“Grams would hold it tight and recite a spell every year before she’d hang it on the tree,” Anya nodded. “Then she’d smile in that beautiful way she always did because ‘it worked.’ And she’d hug each one of us. She was cheesy like that. Just like you.”
Anya brushed her fingers over the silver where it rested, reverential and sincere, and spoke with a calm and clear voice.
“The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,
Be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear.
Winter spirit with your warmest bite, bless me with your kindest might,
The ones I love who feel the same, return to me from where you came.”
Lexa glanced around the empty room, and Anya did the same. Not a soul appeared, save the bartender drying glasses at the end of the bar, but then again, three pm was a little early for most patrons.
Anya shrugged, “Guess it doesn’t work.”
“Unless it did,” Lexa smirked. “Anya, do you hold me dear? Am I the one you love the most? Are you actually as sentimental and cheesy as Grams was?”
Anya whipped towards her, finger pointing threateningly at Lexa’s face. “If you don’t wipe those idiotic puppy eyes off your face, I’m going to-”
“Okay, okay,” Lexa surrendered with her hands held high and her laughter joyous. “I’ll stop teasing.”
Anya took a steadying breath, and her features softened. “I’m going to miss her this year.”
“Me too.”
“Well-” Anya picked up the decoration and placed it in Lexa’s hand. “I should be getting back. The in-laws are expecting me for dinner.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Lexa asked as she pocketed the ornament.
“I’ve seen your place. You barely have enough room for you.” Anya slapped a bill large enough to cover their drinks and a generous tip on the bar, shaking her head as Lexa reached into her pocket. “My treat,” she dismissed Lexa’s offered cash.
“You do remember that I own a house now, right?” Lexa shrugged on her coat and held the door open for Anya. The daylight, dimmed through the darkening clouds, was still bright enough to make her squint.
“Yes, I know you used your inheritance to buy a home. How responsible of you,” Anya sighed. “But the wife is coming down in a few days, and her parents ever so graciously offered up their guest room for us.”
Lexa suppressed her smile. Anya really was a softy for those she loved.
“You want to share a cab?” Anya offered.
Lexa shook her head. “My place is in the opposite direction, but it isn’t far. Just a ten-minute walk.”
“Okay,” Anya shrugged with impressive nonchalance. She called the cab company, and Lexa waited with her, enjoying a few more minutes of light teasing until the unmistakable golden yellow car turned the corner.
Lexa gave Anya a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?”
“Yes, Lexa. I’ll be at your place at six pm sharp. Try not to burn the ever-living shit out of whatever you have planned.”
Lexa sighed and, with formidable self-control, let the dig slide. “See you later, Anya,” she waved as her cousin slid into the backseat of the car.
She watched until the taxi turned out of sight before spinning on her heel and heading home. The sun peeked through the fluffy and darkening clouds that would undoubtedly bring snow that night, and Lexa tucked her hands in her pockets as a particularly blustery gust of wind swirled around her.
Her hand wrapped around the ornament.
She held it in front of her, admiring its timeless beauty. Her mind danced with visions of warmth and happiness as her family sat around the tree last year. Lexa snuggled close to her Grams, and Anya cuddled up with her wife.
The bittersweet memory pulled a deep sense of longing from her chest. She really missed Grams, but more than that, she wanted what Anya had. Someone to hold and share those warm moments with.
Lexa was well aware she was only twenty-six; she had her whole life ahead of her. There was no reason she should feel so envious of her cousin’s relationship, but it was the holidays and the holidays often brought up those feelings.
She ran her thumb over the silver decoration once more, whispering to herself out of the comfort of nostalgia, or perhaps it was the nagging possibility that this thing really was a magical ornament that could bring her to someone she could love.
“The secrets I hid in the night, reaching out through space and light,
Be they far or be they near, bring to me the ones I hold dear.
Winter spirit with your warmest bite, bless me with your kindest might,
The ones I love who feel the same, return to me from when you came.”
A mass of warmth, fluffy fabric, and blonde hair smashed into Lexa’s body. She flung her arms wildly, and gloved hands wrapped around her forearms, pulling her down.
She landed with a gasp and thud, but the body beneath her absorbed most of the fall.
“I’m so sorry!” Lexa scrambled, desperate to remove her tangled limbs from this stranger below her. But in her haste, she lost her footing and face-planted onto the warm chest beneath her. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry.”
Lexa somehow managed to get her arms to listen to her frantic brain and planted her hands on the firm ground, pushing herself off her accidental tackle victim.
And her already flushed and embarrassed body heated further.
This woman was gorgeous.
Her honey hair splayed across the rough concrete, and her sapphire eyes widened as her totally kissable lips curled into a smile.
“Lexa!” The woman sat up, forcing Lexa to do the same. She threw her arms around her neck, pulling her into the warmest hug Lexa had ever experienced.
Lexa sat there, enjoying the bizarre yet completely welcome feeling, and after a moment released this charming stranger and pulled them both to their feet.
The woman smiled big and bright, and a swirl of nerves and excitement erupted in Lexa’s belly. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” Lexa asked.
The fascinating stranger narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she studied Lexa. “I’m-”
“Mom! Are you okay?” a small voice called out as a tiny person sprinted around the corner. Her long dark hair flowed behind her and came to a crashing halt as she slammed into the stranger and wrapped her little arms around her waist. The little girl hugged the woman tight, gaping up at Lexa. “Momma?”
The woman knelt down, rubbing the kid’s shoulders. “Momma’s fine, sweetpea.”
She took her child’s hand and stood. She rubbed the back of her head, grimacing and suppressing what Lexa assumed was a gasp of pain.
“Are you sure?” Lexa asked as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She pressed the menu button, ready to call for help. “That was a hard fall, and I’m afraid you took the brunt of it for us. Can I call an ambulance? A doctor?”
The stranger shook her head, glaring at Lexa’s phone. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She glanced up, meeting Lexa’s eyes. She held her gaze for a long moment, and Lexa fought the urge to squirm under such intense scrutiny. But then she slammed her eyes closed and rubbed the back of her head once more. “Fuck, 2011,” the woman mumbled under her breath.
“It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?” Lexa nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many natural disasters. At least it’s almost over. Only a few more weeks. But then we’ve got the whole 2012 apocalypse thing to deal with, so I’m not sure if that’s going to be much better.”
The woman stared, and Lexa’s cheeks just might as well have been tattooed red with how often she kept embarrassing herself in front of a pretty woman.
“The Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012,” Lexa explained, wishing her verbal ramble would just stop, but apparently her pretty-woman-rattled brain was incapable of such a feat. “The Mayan god of creation and war is supposed to come to earth for some sort of event. The end of the world, so they say. I guess we’ll just have to live it up for the next year.”
The little girl looked up at Lexa, wide-eyed with alarm, and tugged on her mother’s hand without breaking her intense eye contact. “Momma?”
Lexa cringed, and if possible, her cheeks pinked further. She shook her head and cursed her very existence for frightening this kiddo.
“Hey, sweetpea,” the woman scooped her up and whispered into her ear. Within seconds, the little one smiled big and bright, nodding her head up and down with a devilish smile. They rubbed their noses together, and the stranger placed a kiss atop her forehead. The entire display was undeniably cute and wholesome, and Lexa’s heart squeezed from all the adorableness.
Not wanting to seem like a creepy and gawking weirdo, Lexa cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she smiled. “Are you sure I can’t call a doctor for you…”
“Clarke,” The stranger thankfully caught on. “I’m fine, thank you. And this little one is my daughter, Macie.”
“Hi,” Macie waved as Clarke balanced her on her hip. Her bright eyes twinkled with mirth, and Lexa smiled back.
“Hi, Macie. I’m-” Lexa stopped short. She stared at Clarke. “Wait, you called me Lexa. And hugged me. Have we met before?”
“Oh, um, yeah,” Clarke, for the first time, blushed. “We have, actually.”
Lexa hid her face behind her hands. “This is so embarrassing,” she mumbled as she sifted through memory after memory, frantic to place Clarke in her past. But she came up empty. “I can’t believe I don’t remember you,” she grumbled.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Lexa’s entire body flushed with the compliment. A few moments with this woman and she was a blushing and rambling mess. Was this what Grams was talking about when she’d tell Lexa about her grandfather? Was this that moment of knowing?
If there was even the slightest chance this woman was exactly what Lexa was hoping for, she could not miss her chance to get to know her. So Lexa took a deep and steadying breath and leapt towards what felt like the most sure yet gigantic leap of faith she’d ever encountered.
“I know this might sound weird considering I just tackled you and can’t seem to remember meeting you,” Lexa rambled in one breath. “But would you like to go grab a cup of coffee? You can remind me how we met, so I can feel like a fool for ever forgetting.”
Lexa leaned in just a fraction closer. She dipped her eyes to meet bright gray ones. “And I happen to know there’s a cafe nearby that makes the best cup of hot chocolate in the city,” she smiled at Macie.
Macie gasped with glee, and she turned towards her mother so quick, Clarke had to readjust her hold to ensure the kiddo didn’t tumble to the ground.
Lexa bit her lip to suppress her delighted chuckle because she could just make out Macie quietly begging Clarke to say yes. Clarke’s resulting look, that look of completely loving annoyance, told Lexa she’d won them over.
Clarke sighed and turned to Lexa with a soft and knowing smile. “Sure, why not?”
Even though Lexa knew she’d say yes, the verbal confirmation ignited a firecracker of happiness deep in her belly. She let the smile spread on her face, not a care in the world if Clarke could see it. Lexa didn’t want to hide it.
Clarke adjusted her hold on Macie and grinned. “Lead the way.”
As they walked side by side towards the coffee shop, the sun peeked from behind the clouds, and something caught its bright rays. It twinkled and sparkled against the gray sidewalk, and Lexa reached down to scoop it up.
She smiled as she tucked her grandmother’s ornament into her coat pocket.