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Since her last relationship ended so disastrously, Lexa had zero interest in finding another. (After all, finding your girlfriend in bed with someone else tends to send you running away from another chance for commitment at breakneck speed.)
Instead of putting time into a relationship, she threw herself into her work to stay occupied during the day and she was easily charming enough to find attractive women to keep her occupied at night. No dates, no phone numbers, just sex and a mutual understanding that it meant nothing else.
Her system worked well - she was winning all of her cases, she was physically satisfied, and she had the expanse of her new bed to herself every night (she let Costia keep their bed when Lexa moved out, having no interest in keeping the bed after finding Costia in it with someone else) - and she had no intentions of changing it.
That plan quickly fell apart.
Wine, attempting to cook dinner, and watching the presidential debate ended with Anya driving her to the hospital wearing a bloody “Make America Gay Again” shirt and spandex shorts for stitches and, later that night, Anya driving her back home with stitches on one hand and the phone number of a particularly attractive blond doctor scribbled on the back of a business card in the other.
Clarke was sexy, and after their first date Lexa could’ve taken Clarke back to her apartment, slept with her, and never called her again.
But Clarke was also intelligent and witty and brilliant and unlike anyone else Lexa had ever met and she even surprised herself when she suggested they go on another date.
Clarke picked the restaurant this time, and since it was close to Lexa’s apartment, Clarke drove to Lexa’s and they walked to the restaurant together, enjoying the crisp fall evening in DC. Throughout the entire evening their conversation was constant, never faltering or feeling awkward, and as Lexa held Clarke’s coat out for the blonde to shrug on, Lexa couldn’t help but realize how good it felt to be with someone like this, where they both knew there was potential for something, where they both knew it wasn’t a one night stand.
When they both had their coats on Clarke’s hand found Lexa’s easily, and she wound their fingers together, while Lexa them out of the bistro. Clarke was startled when Lexa stopped them rather abruptly at the door to the restaurant and peered outside.
Clarke stepped forward to peer out the window, trying to see what had stopped Lexa so suddenly, before she smiled, turning to face Lexa. “It’s just a little rain, Lex, it’s not gonna hurt you,” Clarke teased.
Lexa couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks at Clarke’s use of the pet name and her embarrassment at her own reaction had her at a loss for words.
“Unless you’ve secretly got some Wicked Witch of the West stuff going on, in which case, it might kill you, but it would be a good show,” Clarke laughed.
“No secret witch stuff going on here, I promise,” Lexa said, smiling. “But we did walk here and I don’t have an umbrella.”
“So?” Clarke asked her, smirking in a way Lexa could only describe as dangerous. Clarke tugged on their joined hands and pushed the door open, walking out into the pouring rain and laughing as her heels splashed in a puddle that formed on the sidewalk.
“Clarke! What are you doing?” Lexa gasped as the cold rain started to fall on her head.
“I’m walking you home, silly,” Clarke said. “Although I probably should’ve checked the weather before I wore these shoes.”
“Clarke this is insane, I’ll just get an Uber!” Lexa said, almost having to yell so that Clarke could hear her over the sounds of traffic and the rain.
“That’s no fun,” Clarke laughed, pulling Lexa forward once again.
Lexa sighed, taking her hand from Clarke’s and digging around in her purse. After a moment she found what she was looking for and offered the small pouch to Clarke. “They’re shoes,” she said, “for your feet.”
Lexa cringed at that, realizing how stupid it sounded. She could practically hear Anya’s mocking laughing in her head.
“Thank you!” Clarke gasped, grabbing onto Lexa’s shoulder for balance and taking off her heels, replacing them with the simple ballet flats Lexa gave her before shoving the heels in her own purse. “Do you carry those around with you?” she asked, finding Lexa’s hand once again and joining it with her own.
“Oh, uh, yeah, I do actually,” Lexa said, laughing softly. “Normally I’m fine walking to and from the Metro stop for work, but sometimes I’ll switch my heels for those, especially if I’m coming back from the office late or if I’ve got a trial the next day and know I’ll be standing a lot.”
“Oh my god!” Clarke said, suddenly. “I’m such a terrible person I took these and you’re wearing heels too, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s fine, Clarke,” Lexa said. “I spend most of my waking hours in heels, I’m used to it. I’m not the one who gets to wear comfortable shoes to work,” she said, remembering the hot pink clogs Clarke had been wearing when Lexa first met her that night in the hospital.
“Okay first of all, those clogs are cute and they’re actually really good for your feet. Plus the kids always love the bright colors. I’ve actually got another pair I let someone decorate with stickers,” she laughs. “Anyway, it’s not my fault you’re not my usual clientele,” Clarke teases, making Lexa laugh.
The night they met Clarke had been in the emergency room for a consult when she saw an intern fumbling with a stitch kit and jumped in before the intern could start, stopping him from giving Lexa the wrong kind of stitches for the injury that she had and saving her from a nasty scar once they healed. Her day was supposed to be ending when she saw them, and she could’ve found another doctor to do Lexa’s stitches, but the ER was busy and Lexa intrigued her, so she stayed. (She’s glad she did.) It wasn’t until their first date that Lexa found out Clarke was actually a pediatric surgery resident, leaving her thoroughly embarrassed that she, a fully grown woman with a degree from Yale Law who was the youngest person ever made partner at her firm, had been treated by a pediatrician.
“And I still feel terrible,” Clarke pouted, stopping in her tracks. “We can totally call an Uber if you want, I should’ve thought of that before I insisted we walk.”
Lexa smiled at her and squeezed her hand, before leading them forward once again. Clarke quickly matched her pace and leaned into Lexa slightly, their shoulders brushing.
“Thank you,” Clarke said.
“For what?”
“For walking,” Clarke said, matter-of-factly. “I love the rain. I always have.”
“Really?” Lexa asked her.
“Mmhmm,” Clarke smiled. “When I was little, probably 5 or 6 years old, it started to pour rain on the day my parents and I were supposed to go to the beach, and I was really bummed about it. It was the beginning of the summer and it was going to be our first beach trip that year and my Mom actually had like, three days off in a row, which was crazy for me when I was a kid, since she was still a new attending at the hospital and she was working a lot, so I was really looking forward to it. It was still a super hot day though, so my Dad sent me up to my room and told me to hurry up and put my bathing suit on. I thought he was crazy, but I did it anyway. When I came downstairs he was in his bathing suit and somehow convinced my mom to do the same and they took me outside and we played in the backyard in the pouring rain, jumping in the puddles and playing tag. My Dad had even gotten us spray guns as a surprise for the beach trip, so he got those out and we played with them. After we got tired we were all caked in mud and so Dad let me spray him with the hose so he could go inside and get towels for Mom and I without making a huge mess. It was so funny, he got the towels and wrapped me up in them like a burrito and took me upstairs to take a bath while my mom showered. When we came back downstairs Mom we saw that she made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, which was my favorite when I was a kid, and we ate dinner and watched movies and they let me stay up past my bedtime,” Clarke said, smiling broadly.
Lexa smiled as well, imagining tiny-Clarke running around with a squirt gun. “That sounds really nice,” she said.
“It was. It was one of the best days of my life. Ever since then I’ve loved the rain.”
“I can see why,” Lexa laughed, stopping the two of them at an intersection while they waited for traffic to clear. Once they had the signal to walk Lexa was about to take a step forward, but Clarke pulled her back.
“Puddle,” she said, looking down. Clarke dropped Lexa’s hand and leapt over the puddle, landing gracefully on the other side and mentally high fiving herself for not falling on her ass, like she sort of assumed she would. “Allow me,” she said, offering Lexa her hand once again.
Lexa couldn’t help the giggle that escaped with Clarke’s gesture, but took Clarke’s hand and stepped over the puddle anyway, smiling. Once she was safely on the other side she felt Clarke tug her closer, the blonde standing on her tiptoes to make up for the considerable height difference exacerbated by Lexa’s heels and pulling her into a kiss. Lexa kissed her back gleefully, parting her lips when she felt Clarke run her tongue over them, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Forgetting about the rain, they got lost in the kiss, and failed to notice when their walk sign changed, only breaking apart when a car honked at them. Lexa grabbed Clarke’s hand once again and ran them across the street, both women giggling profusely.
Despite her earlier hesitance, when Lexa realized they were only a block away from her apartment, she found herself sad at the prospect of their walk coming to a close. Unfortunately, those thoughts were interrupted as the rain began to fall harder, startling Lexa and making her let out a little yelp, while Clarke just laughed harder.
“C’mon,” Clarke said, tugging Lexa’s hand and leading them down the block in a run. “You’ve gotta tell me where to stop,” she called back to Lexa. “It’s dark and I don’t know which is yours!”
Lexa laughed as well, and shouted when they neared her building. “It’s this one!” she said, pulling Clarke into the vestibule of the building. Both breathless from running, Lexa wasn’t happy about having to drop Clarke’s hand in order to reach for her key card to actually enter the building. Once she found it, she looked at Clarke, who was still smiling brightly, despite shivering from the air conditioning. “You should come inside,” she said. “You’ll freeze on the way home in those wet clothes. You’re shorter than me, but I’m sure I’ve got something dry you can change into.”
“It’s okay, I always keep an extra set of clothes in my car. The glamorous life of a doctor,” she laughed.
“Oh, of course,” Lexa said, her face falling at the prospect of having to say goodbye to Clarke.
“I just, uh, I mean, I could still come inside, though, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah,” Lexa said, her eyes darting down to Clarke’s lips. “That’s okay.”
Clarke found her own eyes on Lexa’s lips and tugged her closer once again, pulling her down into a heated kiss. “Or,” Clarke whispered, her nose brushing against Lexa’s, “I could forget about the clothes, and just come inside?”
Without a moment of hesitation Lexa smiled. “Follow me.”
Clarke woke the next morning, fully content, with Lexa curled into her side. They were both wrapped in Lexa’s bright white duvet and with the brunette’s skin against her own, Clarke was warm and totally satisfied, not wanting to leave the confines of the wonderfully cozy bed any time soon. She was running her fingers through Lexa’s hair, gently scratching her scalp when Lexa woke up, sniffling.
“Good morning,” Clarke whispered, one hand still playing with Lexa’s hair. As Lexa groaned, her head feeling heavy and her nose congested, she curled closer into Clarke’s body, the blonde’s arm wrapping around her tightly.
“G’moring,” Lexa mumbled, her voice hoarse.
“Oh baby, you sound terrible,” Clarke said, suddenly concerned. She’d never spent the night with Lexa before, and while she knew her own voice was rough when she woke up, it was nothing like Lexa’s, which Clarke could immediately tell was indicative of something other than sleepiness.
“My head hurts,” Lexa said.
“Shhh,” Clarke said, sitting up.
“Clarkeeee,” Lexa whined, reaching for the blonde.
“You’re sick,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Much to Lexa’s displeasure, Clarke climbed out of bed and padded out of the bedroom. With Clarke gone Lexa quickly fell back asleep, only to be woken again by Clarke sitting on the bed.
“Drink this,” she said, offering Lexa a cup of steaming liquid. “It’s Theraflu, it’ll help.”
Grateful, Lexa sat up, the duvet falling down to her waist, and she took a sip of the beverage, humming as the warmth coated her sore throat. Lexa took a few more sips, then moved to put the mug on her bedside table. She tried to pull Clarke closer, but Clarke stopped her.
“You need to drink all of that,” Clarke said. “It really will make you feel better. And you should probably put on some clothes.”
“Oh, shit, sorry, I-” Lexa said, her words stopped as Clarke pulled her in and kissed her softly.
“You’re covered in goosebumps, you must be cold, that’s all,” Clarke said, kissing Lexa once more before pulling away from her and standing. “Where can I find you some pajamas?”
“Clarke, I can get my own pajamas,” Lexa said, admiring the fact that Clarke had neglected to put clothes back on after waking up.
“Which one of us is the doctor here?” Clarke teased.
“Which one of us wins arguments for a living?” Lexa shot back, smirking.
“The one who’s gonna tell me where I can find her some damn pajamas,” Clarke said, laughing as Lexa pouted.
“Door next to the bathroom is the closet, all the drawers are labeled,” Lexa said, laying back into the pillows and pulling the duvet up to her chin. “Take whatever you want.”
A moment later Clarke returned, this time with a bundle of clothes in her arms. She set a pair of silk pajama pants and a tank top on the bed next to Lexa, which Lexa grabbed and changed into, before cuddling back into the bed. Clarke smiled at her and grabbed the mug from the bedside table, handing it to Lexa.
“Too bad you don’t have a TV in here,” she said, scanning Lexa’s room as she pulled on a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts for herself.
“I do,” Lexa said. She pointed to a large armoire in the corner of the room, which Clarke walked over to and opened, revealing a TV.
“Nice touch,” Clarke laughed, walking back to the bed and grabbing the remote from the bedside table before climbing in and wrapping her arms around Lexa without a second thought.
“I don’t use it much,” Lexa said. She leaned into Clarke’s embrace and sipped her drink again, smiling.
“D’you have Netflix?” Clarke asked.
Lexa nodded and took the remote from the blonde, opening Netflix and handing it back to her. “Go crazy.”
Clarke scrolled through Netflix, smiling as she saw what Lexa had watched recently. “You really like documentaries,” she said.
“They’re interesting. But you can watch whatever you want, I’m not picky,” Lexa said, taking the last sip of her drink and setting the mug on the table.
Clarke skipped through Netflix a bit more before finding something she thought they would both enjoy. “Have you ever seen Cutthroat Kitchen ?”
“Don’t think so,” Lexa said, curling into Clarke’s side again and resting her head on her chest. “Let’s watch it.”
Clarke smiled and hit play, setting the remote down and wrapping her arms around Lexa again, kissing the brunette's temple as the show began.
They were halfway through the first episode when Lexa realized how normal it felt to be with Clarke like this, even after only knowing her for a few weeks. When she met Clarke she wasn’t looking for a relationship - in fact, she was actively avoiding relationships - but Clarke sent Lexa’s original plan flying, and as she lay in the blonde’s arms Lexa realized she didn’t mind it one bit.