Work Text:
Lexa had her thoughts on a long hot bath when she got home. Her feet ached and her head throbbed and she wanted a little quiet time, maybe a glass of wine, after that hellacious shift. The season was picking back up for the aquarium she worked and school field trips were left and right. At least three a day. She was so tired of screaming children and picking up their messes and trying to be as friendly as she could muster but by the end of the day she was sure her smile was as fake as some of the exhibits she presented.
The aquarium was closing up and she did her last minute duties before clocking out, grabbing her things, and bolting out the front door to her bicycle. Lexa fishes out her keys and bends down to unlock the chain wrapped around the bike rack before tucking it all away and jerking her bike into possession. When it moved very little, she tugged harder with the same resistance as before and the rattling of another bike.
"What the..." she trails off and bends down to find someone else's chain attached to the bar of her bike. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
She looks up and down the dark street, yellow light flickering above her from a street lamp, but no one walked with purpose toward her. Lexa jostles the bike before she slams it down, though it doesn't exactly go anywhere. The bike it is chained to supports it and she just slumps down to the concrete and leans against the rack.
She hears the music waft from down the street. It's faint but there and it only agitates the woman, knowing that whomever owns the bike could be at one of the bars, dancing until all hours in the morning. Walking home isn't exactly practical and being new in the city, she didn't have anyone to call and she certainly didn't have enough money for a taxi.
An hour later, Lexa is still sitting there though she's probably in the forth position since she sat down to try and keep comfortable. She began to worry the person wasn't ever going to come back.
"Hey, you okay?" she hears and tiredly looks up to find a blonde woman above her.
"Some asshole locked their bike to mine," Lexa complains and watches the expression change from concern to worry to something apologetic.
"Oh."
"Oh," Lexa repeats as the other kneels down and rolls the lock to open, "you're the asshole."
"Yeah... I'm so sorry. Did you try to unlock it? I never changed the original combination from 0000."
Lexa stares at her for a moment, stunned, and began picking herself up from the ground. She found it hard to show the anger she felt but she assumed it was only because she was so tired and not because the girl was extremely cute.
"You're asking to get your bike stolen," she tells her.
"Am I? How long did you sit here before I showed up? You could have stolen it. Hell, you could have gotten your bike free."
"I... well, how about paying attention to where you put your chain," Lexa tells her, trying to muster up the energy to be mad at the stranger. She grabs the handles of her bike as the blonde sets it free.
"Look, I'm really sorry, okay?"
"It's fine," Lexa shrugs. Obviously it's not fine but she's tired and wants to get home. She slings her leg over the seat and gets comfortable, offering another fake smile before she pushes herself forward. The woman doesn't object.
The next day, she carefully places her bike on the outside of the rack and locks it with as much distance as she could. The blonde's bike is no where in the line.
When she gets off work, though, the dark purple cycle is there albeit on the other side safely away from her own. She's flooded with relief until she sees a piece of paper taped to her seat. Lexa rips it off and reads what's on he front.
Forgive me? she reads and looks around her. No one in sight. She returns to the note and opens up the flap to read the rest.
Maybe over a drink? Or coffee if you don't drink?
-- Clarke.
A ten digit number on the bottom of the paper causes her eyebrow to lift curiously. She doesn't notice the smile on her face right away but when she does, she knows it's genuine.